New landing has now linked hands with Anzac, and is three and a half miles inland.
Our troops at the new landing are not moving as fast as was at first expected, but reports are that Kitchener’s Army are fighting magnificently.
The Indian Brigade unfortunately had to give ground last night, but not of much consequence.
I semaphore a message from the beach to McArthur on a submarine, and submarine smartly picks it up and acknowledges. It is from a lady friend, from whom I have just received a letter, to a friend of McArthur’s.
On the way back a shell comes near; goes right through the roof of D.A.Q.M.G.’s office as I was passing, and penetrates the earth wall on far side while D.A.Q.M.G. is writing at his desk. It did not explode, and he was most fortunately unhurt. Afterwards, he said that he dropped his pencil with surprise.
August 12th.
A fairly quiet day. Rode with Hyslop to the gully. Hardly any shelling on “W” Beach, and what shells did come over were only “poop-squeaks,” the majority not bursting. I suppose the Turks are taking the artillery away from here to positions against our men at Suvla. Aeroplanes buzzing about as usual this end, and one of the “E” type submarines comes down from the Straits. But the Navy keeps things dark, and since the last submarine stunt we have heard nothing.
Destroyers off “W” coast find a target on west ridge of the hill. Findlay-Smith comes to dinner.
August 13th.
Very hot, and a calm sea. Not much shelling, but a few “poop-squeaks” fall in Supply depot; one man wounded. Shelling seems to be dying away.