'Can't you climb the bluff. It's not so steep a little way to your right?'
'I could, but my German friend isn't exactly in climbing trim. He's rather badly bust up by the look of him.'
Dave glanced round.
'"My German friend isn't exactly in climbing trim."'
'It looks to me as if the ledge you're on broadens a good bit to my left. You wait where you are, and Roy and I will come round and give you a hand.'
Dave's head disappeared, and Ken sat down, with his back against the bluff. He had had a bad shake up, and was glad of a few moments' rest. He was quite safe where he was, for the bluff protected him from stray Turkish bullets.
Down below, through the mist, boats were shooting landwards from the transports, bringing more men, stores of all kinds, ammunition, and materials for setting up a wireless installation. He saw that they were under constant fire from the snipers on the cliffs above, and though for the moment the haze protected them, the mist was fast rising. It was going to be precious awkward when the full light came.
In a much shorter time than he had expected, his two companions appeared in sight around the curve of the ledge. In the dawn light he could see that their khaki was torn and covered with stains, while their faces were scratched and bleeding. But both were in splendid spirits.
'My word!' exclaimed Roy. 'This is what you might call a night out with a vengeance.'