Rode to the gully to Cregan. On duty at depot in the afternoon.
Fighting last night in centre and again this morning. Noticed very big explosions in Turkish trenches on their right, throwing earth and smoke quite 300 feet. On inquiry found that they were our trench mortars at work, throwing 100 lb. shells. That will shake things up a bit.
Very quiet night.
August 14th.
On duty at depot at 6 a.m. Very quiet, no shelling. Wonderfully quiet altogether now: hardly a rifleshot.
Rode up to the Gully Beach, and then rode out with Mathias to Pink Farm and walked up the trench to Brigade H.Q. Hardly a shell, and only a few bullets. What is happening? Anyway, it is nice for us, and it is a relief to be able to ride about in safety.
Found Way at H.Q., and also saw Thomson once more. Was very glad to see him. Rode with Way back to the gully, passing old Butler asleep under a tree. Told him that a shell would soon pitch on his “tummy”; to which he replied, “It is all right: the Turks think I’m a mule.”
Call on Munster Fusiliers beyond Gully Beach in dugouts on cliff, half way to Shrapnel Point, and have tea with Geddes and Nightingale. We passed General de Lisle superintending the building of a new pier off Gully Beach.
Have a nice canter home. After dinner a Turkish four-gun battery on Asiatic side fires over a salvo of high explosives, followed by another and another in quick succession. It was a surprise to us, but did not last long, as our friends the Monitors got on to them, on which I suppose they limbered up and bolted. I hope they will not do it in the middle of the night. The shells burst in the Arabs’ camp beyond the aerodrome, causing them to clear, making a row like a panic-stricken poultry yard.
No news from the north.