As the French were so successful in their last battle, having captured those trenches and the Haricot Redoubt on their left, thereby straightening and shortening our line, I think there is going to be another general attack for the hill to-morrow, preceded by an exceptionally heavy bombardment. If successful, then the danger of asphyxiating gas attack for the present is over.
Went up to Brigade H.Q. with Phillips. Beautiful moonlight, and all quiet on front. Had a nice gallop back on West Krithia road, but my mare nearly ran away with me; a bit dangerous going, as there were so many shell-holes about. Pink Farm and West Krithia road get so badly dusted with shrapnel all day and every day now, that I usually go up by night or early morning to H.Q.
June 25th.
It is now exactly two months since we landed. Turkish artillery has been fairly active to-day. It has been very hot, but a beautiful day, and is now a most beautiful night, with the sea dead calm. We are having some nice bathing. The fly pest is worse than ever, and is frightfully worrying. The attack is not to come off to-morrow, after all, but Sunday.
To-day the Lord Nelson, escorted by destroyers, went up the West Coast and bombarded some target behind Achi Baba. Shortly after, a column of smoke arose behind the hill, and evidently the Lord Nelson has made good practice. She was shelled by a Turkish field battery, but only two shells burst immediately over her, and hardly did any damage.
June 26th.
I rose at 5.30 a.m. and, getting my mare saddled, rode over to the other side of the beach and woke up Butler, the Quartermaster of the Worcesters, who had promised to give me what he called “a personally conducted Cook’s Tour to the first-line trenches.” We had some hot tea and biscuits and a tot of rum, and then we mounted and started off. My mare was full of the joy of life and very fresh.
As we went over the crest on to the West Coast road, mist was hanging low on the cliffs and at the foot of Achi Baba. Above, the sky was cloudless. The words of Omar came to mind—
Awake, for Morning in the bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to flight.
I wish the stone would put the Turks to flight.