Go down to the docks. Alexandria is a wonderful place now. Always one of the most cosmopolitan cities of the East, she has now added the responsibilities of a military base. Here, from her teeming docks, are fed the troops in Gallipoli and Mesopotamia—and here may be seen at all hours of the day and night great ships being loaded by chattering and chanting natives with food and munitions. Troopships also, swallowing up men or moving slowly out into the harbour; tugs, lighters, colliers, and the like, throng her watergates, and the quays present a vivid picture of bright colours, as the gaily dressed natives go about their work. Fussy trains puff alongside the ships and disgorge men, mules, and horses, in never-ending streams. Mountains of hay, bully beef, and biscuits are stacked along the quays, and the rattle of gear and the groaning of the great cranes fill the air with strange sounds. And above it all, the fierce sun glares down on the hot stones, and the pitiless, steely-blue Egyptian sky, inscrutable and cloudless, spreads overhead like a vast dome. Leaving this hive of industry, I turn my steps to the Regina Palace Hotel, where I am introduced to an Italian family by Cox. Awfully jolly girls. Have some dancing. Meet Neville, of South Wales Borderers, a friend of mine in Birmingham. Go for motor drive into the desert with Gregory. _July 20th._ Went out in the evening with Prince Adil in his yacht, Henderson and our French friend. The Prince provided food, consisting of cold dishes, cocktails in a Thermos flask, and whiskies and sodas. It was delightful cruising about the harbour in moonlight and skimming along the water, heeling right over when we ran before the wind. _July 21st._ Ordered to join _Seeang-Bee_, a filthy little tramp, packed with troops. Fortunately for us, they are full up, and so I am told to go on board the _Anglo-Egyptian_, a cleaner boat. Find a draft of Gurkhas on board and a draft of Sikhs. English officers; fine lot of men. About a dozen officers all told on board. Sikhs a weird lot; now and again a mysterious chant, sung by them, comes up from the lower decks. In the morning had quite a touching farewell at the hotel with all the Italian girls, the French children, and my little friend the Russian Cossack, aged five years, and their pretty French governess. I am getting to speak French quite well now. _July 22nd._ We were to start last night, but owing to submarine scare we have not yet sailed. _5 p.m._ The hospital ship _Sudan_ has just come in, and the hospital train, ambulance-lorries, and motor-cars are drawn up waiting the wounded. I have been on board and have spoken to one of the wounded officers, who tells me that there have been two battles since I left, and that we have made further advance, in the centre of our line, therefore straightening it a little, but have lost very heavily. Also he told me that the 29th Division are leaving Gallipoli, and that one Brigade is at Lemnos or Tenedos.