If the French manage to hold their own, it will considerably lessen the morale of the enemy, and the hill should be taken in the near future, and our own job will be half over. _8.30 p.m._ Battle still going on. On beach Tommies singing “There’s a Little Grey Home in the West.” Sun just going down behind Imbros, making most lovely colouring. Sea dead calm: most peaceful scene, looking out to sea, but when one turns one’s back one sees a great battle raging three miles inland. Extraordinary contrast. _June 22nd._ Very hot, but perfect day. French attack successful yesterday. They took two lines of trenches, and so have shortened and strengthened our front. Walked with Phillips and Birch (second in command of another submarine that has just arrived) to Gully Beach, overland. All quiet on front. Turkish artillery dead quiet, but French “75’s” now and again popping off. See Brigade H.Q., now in rest on the side of cliffs, and also Essex Regiment. Hear that Revel, of the Essex, has died of wounds. Ripping young chap. Had a cheery chat with him up at Brigade H.Q. two weeks ago. The 29th Division officers are falling fast now, and we feel their loss terribly. A Taube came over this morning and dropped three bombs, but only hit one man, wounding him slightly, but killed nine horses. I thought I saw the bombs drop quite clearly, as I was watching through glasses, and it was surprising the time that they took to drop. I may have been mistaken—the Taube was about over me—but I thought I saw a pencil line, as it were, drawn against the sky. Nasty suspense waiting for the things to reach the ground. O.C. of the West Lowland Territorial Engineers killed by shell at gully yesterday. Very fine chap. _8 p.m._ A quiet day. Rumour that we are to expect asphyxiating gas dodge, and that we are going to have respirators served out. Unfortunately, the prevailing wind is down the Peninsula and in our faces, and we are barely four miles from the Turkish trenches. Beautiful evening, and the sun setting behind Imbros is making most exquisite colouring. _June 23rd, 10.30 a.m._ Turks very quiet. French “75’s” now and again firing. Very hot, fine day. Rode last night to Gully Beach with Carver, round by road on cliffs on “W” coast. Beautiful moonlight night. Wagons trekking up and down, and now and again a sentry challenges with his bayonet pointed to the breasts of our horses, which we rein in, at the same time shouting “Friend,” answered by “Pass, friend; all’s well.” I should like to feel that it really was “all well.” Enemy aircraft brought down yesterday, falling in Turkish lines. French losses in recent battle, 2,000. To-night I ride again with Carver to Gully Beach, which is now the home of the 29th Division H.Q.