to see me once or twice on business, has told me that in his opinion the most trying duty of all is seeing the animals watered. The troughs are in full sight of the Turkish gunners, and the long lines of dust emerging from the transport gully give the clue. He tells me that this is when he gets jumpy. Absolutely in the open—water trickling into the troughs slowly—and he has to stand and see that every beast has enough. Then the shelling starts—mules fall, but still the others must have their fill and not be _hurried_, and it seems like hours, and some of the beasts all unconscious—appearing as if they will never finish. It must be a merry job—and it has to be done three times a day. An officer has to be present, or the overwhelming temptation to hurry up and get off becomes too much for the men, and no wonder! _September 29th._ Camp Commandant comes to inform us that we have to clear out of our place, which is comparatively safe, and move to an exposed position further inland, in full view of the Turks. We shall be absolutely shelled out if we have a Supply depot there, with A.T. carts and motor-lorries coming to and fro from Main Supply depot all day, and it will cripple our work. Hope to get this order cancelled. Have told D.H.Q., who have promised to see Camp Commandant. Usual artillery firing all day, and ship’s guns joining in. Submarines have been busy. One French transport sunk and two British—one empty and one containing Gurkhas and Punjabis. _Swiftsure_ had a narrow escape the other day, two torpedoes just missing her. _September 30th._ A very fine day, not a cloud in the sky; very hot, and flies, now in myriads, perfectly appalling. See Camp Commandant as to moving our Supply depot to the exposed part of the Peninsula. Finally he gives way, and finds another and safer place for us at the foot of IX Corps Gully. Hardly any shelling from Turks, but our guns busy and battleships as well. Go up to Brigade in evening. Quiet night, and so ends September, a deadly month. No movement on our part all the month: no action, except little mirror stunts such as straightening our line, digging saps, bombing expeditions, and artillery duels. All the time we steadily lose killed and wounded and a seriously large percentage of sick, and we drift and drift on. _To where?_ OCTOBER _October 1st._ A very misty morning, everything hidden in the valleys, also the ships in the harbour. At one o’clock we are shelled by high explosives and 5·9 shrapnel, and it lasts an hour; very unpleasant. I hate the shelling more and more as time goes on. Some mysterious move is going on. The 87th, now at Imbros, have wired for their machine guns, and rumours that troops have left here during the last two nights are about. Has Bulgaria come in against us? _October 2nd._