parties claimed the islands in the Ægean, neither being in a position to hold them successfully. Consequently, when the Dardanelles operations commenced, we naturally decided to regard the islands as "No Man's Land," although the Greeks knew that, in the event of a successful campaign, we should probably hand them over to their keeping. It is certain that without them we could never have carried on the operations in this theatre of war.

We left the anchorage of Kephalo with every light obscured and silence enjoined, even white clothes and cigarettes being forbidden on deck. It was fortunately a dark night even for these parts. At slow speed with a picket-boat close on our quarter we crept across the twelve miles separating us from Suvla Bay, which by now was generally presumed to be the place chosen for what we hoped would be a surprise landing. Two cruisers, the Theseus and Endymion, carrying large numbers of men, and specially fitted with gangways over their sterns to allow the troops to walk down into motor-lighters, were sent on with destroyers towing motor-lighters full of troops to be at the point of disembarkation at about 11.30 p.m. We on the flagship steered a slightly more northerly course, in order not to interfere with these vessels in the darkness, and arrived in Suvla Bay at about 12.30 a.m.

The fact that the landing had already begun was shown by desultory rifle-fire from the shore, but of so spasmodic a character that a feeling of hope arose that the surprise was complete. Impatience now became general for the first gleam of daylight. After an apparently endless wait the dawn began to make in the eastern sky, and there was enough light to get some idea of the general state of affairs.

On C beach the troops had landed from the cruisers and destroyers in the darkness with practically no opposition. A beautiful sandy shore, sloping at sufficiently steep an angle to allow the motor-lighters to beach without difficulty, facilitated the landing. The troops, dashing forward, were able to penetrate inland and drive the small bodies of Turks out of their trenches. They then advanced over the now dry salt lake some considerable distance.

On A beach things were not so successful. Here, a shallow ridge of sand, running parallel to the shore, held up three of the motor-lighters carrying some 1500 men at a point where wading was impossible, owing to the deeper water inside the ridge. Here the men were subjected to considerable rifle-fire from bodies of Turkish troops and suffered a number of casualties. Picket-boats, however, succeeded in taking them off and landing them on the beach.

By this time it was possible to see more plainly what was taking place. Two batteries of Turkish field-guns opened fire with shrapnel and high explosives on the landing-parties and on the three lighters which were firmly fixed on the sand reef. The lighters specially claimed the attention of the enemy's guns, doubtless under the impression that they still contained troops. Beyond the lighters large numbers of men could be seen filing along the beach, or forming up, and amongst these, large columns of sand and dust showed where the shells pitched, causing many casualties.

At about five o'clock an enemy aeroplane was sighted, but so occupied was everyone with the work in hand that practically no attention was paid to her; and shortly after, four large bombs were dropped in quick succession in the harbour, causing huge columns of discoloured water to rise, but doing no damage to the shipping, which by now had grown in numbers. Five fleet sweepers arrived bringing large numbers of men, who were landed rapidly to support those already ashore, and as quickly disappeared into the scrub beyond the beach. The Talbot and Chatham were now busy with their 6-inch guns driving back those Turks who still endeavoured to oppose our landing. The Talbot by a few well-placed shots entirely disposed of a battery which had considerably annoyed us during the early part of the operations. It was impossible now to see exactly what was taking place, as the low-lying land, over which the troops were advancing, was hidden by sand dunes from the harbour.

By now large transports were arriving with more troops and stores, and a battery of field artillery was landed and quickly galloped into a position on Lalla Baba, where they could give good support to the advance.

A slight description of the country in which this attempt to straddle the peninsula was taking place may be of interest, as seen from the sea. On our left Suvla Point, with Nebruniessi Point to the right, formed a small bay known as Suvla Bay some mile and a half across. To the right of Nebruniessi Point a long gently curving sandy beach some four or five miles in extent terminated where the Australian position at Anzac rose steeply to the Sari Bair range. Inside and immediately in front of us was a large flat sandy plain covered with scrub, while the dry salt lake showed dazzlingly white in the hot morning sun. Immediately beyond was Chocolate Hill, and behind this again lay the village of Anafarta some four miles from the shore. As a background, the Anafarta ridge ran from the village practically parallel with the sea until it took a sharp turn due west to Suvla Point, where it gradually sloped down to the coast. Beyond the plain in front of us a number of stunted oaks, gradually becoming more dense further inland, formed excellent cover for the enemy's snipers—a mode of warfare at which the Turk has become an adept.

By climbing into the foretop of the vessel, it was possible to watch the living cinema of battle. Glasses were necessary to distinguish the light khaki of our men against the scrub and sand. The troops marching in open order across the salt lake formed a most stirring picture as they crossed the unbroken surface of silver-white. Overhead shrapnel burst unceasingly, leaving small crumpled forms on the ground, one or more of which would slowly rise and walk shorewards, while others lay where they fell. Beyond this open space it became almost impossible to follow the movements of the battle, but the continual rattle of musketry showed where the advance was proceeding into the more thickly wooded plain. Our hopes that the surrounding ridges would be taken before nightfall were unfortunately not realised. The enemy, though not in great strength to commence with, were continually reinforced, while the broken nature of the ground made anything like perfect cohesion amongst our various units extremely difficult. To make matters still worse, the enemy's shells caused dense bush fires, which, driven by the wind, burst into sheets of flame. Great difficulty was experienced in dealing with snipers. Officers and men were continually shot down, not only by rifle fire from advanced posts of the enemy, but by men and even women behind our own firing-line. The particular kind of tree in this part, a stunted oak, lends itself peculiarly to concealment, being short with dense foliage. Here, a sniper would lurk with face painted green and so well hidden as to defy detection. Others would crouch in the dense brushwood, where anyone passing could be shot with ease. When discovered, these snipers had in their possession enough food and water for a considerable period as well as an ample supply of ammunition. Although this seems a murderous kind of warfare, there is no question as to the pluck of the sniper, of whatever nationality, for he has little chance of getting back to his comrades and small likelihood of quarter if caught.

Water, or rather the want of it, was a serious bar to our progress in the initial stages. Those who formed the first landing-parties carried provisions and