A steamboat came alongside soon afterwards, and Dr. O'Neill, singing out that he would borrow her to tow away the wounded, went up on deck.
The Orphan, very anxious to have another look round, followed him to the superstructure deck, and there he left him talking to a white-haired naval Captain in khaki—the Beach-master of "V" beach—and a big, burly, red-faced man, in very much stained khaki, with Commander's shoulder-straps. This was Commander Unwin, who had won the Victoria Cross the day before.
The midshipman went for'ard to where some army officers and signalmen were standing watching the shore. From there he saw the foc's'le, the maxims, and the sand-bags behind which he had crouched. He could not see the lighters and pontoons because they were hidden by the fo'c'sle, but right in front of him was the great mediæval castle of Sedd-el-Bahr, with its bastion towers—one of which he had just seen demolished—its curtain-walls, and arched gateway at which he had fired that maxim. Farther to the right, the height of the walls decreased as they jutted out into the Straits; they were much battered about, and, in several places, huge breaches had been blown in them by the ships' guns. Fallen masonry sloped down from these breaches into the sea itself. Scrambling along the rocks below the walls, and wading through the shallow water round the masses of fallen masonry, he saw many of our soldiers. Officers were evidently forming them up below the breaches; men were crawling up these slopes and kneeling down in front of barbed-wire entanglements, which he could plainly see across the top of one breach; somewhere close by a maxim spluttered, and a few single shots—whether English or Turkish he did not know—rang out. The Albion's shells were now bursting some way in rear of these breaches.
Close to the water's edge, sheltered by some rocks, a dark-blue army signal-flag began waving to and fro. The Orphan could "take in" Morse, and spelt out "R-E-A-D-Y T-O A-D-V-A-N-C-E". He heard one of the signallers standing behind him repeat this, and a tired, weary voice called out: "Signal to the Albion to cease fire." He heard the rustle of the Morse flag signalling to the ship; a minute later the signaller called out: "They've taken it in, sir."
The weary voice sang out again, in the most matter-of-fact way: "Tell Colonel Doughty-Wylie to carry on the advance—as arranged;" and, fearfully excited, he heard the blue flag behind him whipping backwards and forwards, and saw the blue flag on shore answering.
Then men seemed to appear in hundreds; they swarmed at the feet of those breaches, and began dodging and climbing up them. Rifle-fire burst out, maxims rattled, and the Orphan held his breath to watch what was happening; but then he was pulled away, and Dr. O'Neill, savage with rage, ordered him back to the boat. "I've been looking for you everywhere; now's our chance to get away to the hospital ship." So, very reluctantly, he went back to the launch.
As he and Dr. O'Neill were going down the ladder, at the foot of which they had spent most of such an exciting night, a big man, his face wrapped in bandages, rushed down after them, and wanted to know if it was necessary for him to go off to a hospital ship. His tunic was soaked in blood.
"I feel all right; I don't want to go," he said.
"Take off those bandages," Dr. O'Neill snapped, and he rapidly unwound them.
Dr. O'Neill sniffed.