During the morning he was pretty bad, and crying and groaning, but became quite quiet, cheerful, and confident when the doctor arrived. However, gangrene had set in, as he had been four days lying on the battlefield before he was found, and he died suddenly at twelve o’clock. A Tommy breaks the silence by saying, “Poor Alf ’as snuffed it.” We were all very quiet for a bit, after they came in and neatly rolled the body in a sheet, and, placing it on a stretcher, carried it away. But after a bit a cheerful atmosphere comes over us, and we four officers “ragged” round, the Tommies enjoying the fun. Why be morbid about death? We’ve all got to go through it. I am allowed to get up at two o’clock, and went and had tea on board the _Aragon_. This was the ship that my original Brigade Staff came out on, with the Worcesters and Hants. The old associations that I had with the _Aragon_, through so many officers that I had become friendly with and who have now gone West, depressed me somewhat, and I was glad to leave. At every turn I am reminded of those days in April, and while walking along the upper deck I could almost see the ghosts of those cheery men who marched round and round of a morning to the music of popular airs played on a piano by a gifted Tommy. I hear that “W” Beach was bombarded this morning. About five hundred shells came over, the heaviest bombardment the beach had ever had. The harbour and island have changed completely since I was here last; great camps, French and English, have sprung up on shore, and the harbour is full of French and English warships and transports and their attendant small craft. _July 6th._ It is funny hearing the bugles again, and looking round the camps, one might be on one’s fourteen days’ annual training. I am very rheumaticky, but getting fit fast, but am going to be sent to Alexandria for a few days’ change. I hope to get back to the Peninsula before the 29th Division go, for I hear they are going to be relieved shortly, and I want to be with them at the end. The 38th Brigade of the 13th Division has arrived here, and the rest of the Division is following. I think that is the Division which is going to relieve us. It is curious, because I was in that Division as Second-Lieutenant. At five o’clock the motor ambulance comes for us, and we go down to the British Pier. They have made two piers, one for the French and one for the British, and they are the centre and hum of life all day and all night. Troops arriving, troops leaving for the Peninsula, wounded arriving back from the Peninsula and wounded being sent off, after a brief stay in the Mudros hospitals, back to the bases, either Cairo, Alexandria, Malta, or England. And then, of course, stores and ammunition are continually being unloaded and reloaded, and all nations seem to be engaged in the work—black, brown, and white. It looks utter confusion, and yet I suppose it is not. The French seem to be much better at system than the British.