It was fighting of another sort when Greeks and Persians traversed this ground. For the Narrows was, more than possibly, the crossing-place of the Hellespont for either host. Anzac or Gaba Tepe would be, almost inevitably, right in the track. Australian trenches perhaps cut across the classic line of march. Who is to say that the site of Xerxes' Headquarters-camp is not at this moment serried with Australian dug-outs? Where he stood to embark, the wireless operator may now be squatting in his sandpit receiving from our cruisers. Certainly every mile over which we are fighting is charged with classical associations. The new geographical nomenclature stands contrasted with the classical, as do methods of transport and fighting. What does the dust of Persian Generals know of Quinn's Post, Walker's Ridge, or Pope's Hill? Even the Turkish names are despised. We are "naming" our own map as we go on. Pope's Hill is a feature in the landscape considerable enough to have justified a Turkish name before we came here. The map of Gallipoli, as well as that of Western Europe, is in a state of flux. Should Gallipoli be garrisoned, Australian terms, not to be found in the dictionary, will stick; scrubs, creeks, and gullies, dignified with the names of heroes who commanded there, will abound. It is by way of Shrapnel Gully we regain the beach. The Australian hospital stands on the right extremity--by no means out of danger. A sparse line of stretchers is moving down almost continuously. This is a hospital for mere hasty dressing to enable wounded to go aboard the pinnace to the Hospital ship standing out. Collins Street doctors who have left behind surgeries "replete with every convenience" find themselves in others that are mere hastily run up _marquées_. Half the attendants hop or limp. They have been peppered. The dentist's outfit is elaborate, and plagued men may have teeth "stopped" or extracted. There is a mechanical department, too, where artificial teeth are repaired--teeth that have been wrecked on the Army biscuit, which is not just angels'-food. Dentists' kit is almost complete; lacks little, in fact, but an electric current. The beach is animated. There are A.S.C. depôts almost innumerable, wireless stations, ordnance stores, medical supply stores, and what-not. This is not the pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war, but the hard facts and hard graft and dirt, sweat and peril, of righteous war. It is by these mundane means the clash of ideals is proceeding, and by which a decision will come....