A hot, sultry day, and the flies a pest. A very quiet morning. No news. Hardly any shelling on the part of the Turk, but our artillery and ships’ guns fairly active. I go up to Brigade H.Q. to tea, and after, on the way back, call in at the 88th Field Ambulance, situated in a tent encampment on a plateau lying between Karakol Dagh and the Turkish positions. Here the situation is most interesting. The white tents and marquees are in full view of the Turks, and not a shot comes near, for John Turk plays the game. It is almost like living in a garden city, with the open country all round, and the feeling one gets is very odd—so near to war and yet so far! Patients rest quite at their ease in their walls of canvas, while over their heads, singing their dread song, the Turkish shells pass on their way to the beaches. _October 29th._ A hot day, and flies very trying. Turks busy with artillery at Chocolate Hill and Anzac. Our artillery busily replying. Nothing our way. Heard firing off coast of Bulgaria last night. Our artillery have been very active all day, and are still firing, although it is dark. We have now several new batteries ashore, and for the past few days the Turk has been very quiet. We had only two shells over our way to-day. Our artillery seems to be getting well on top. Munro has arrived, all good luck to him. Now perhaps we shall get a move on. We feel now, either move on or off. But Heaven defend us from the inaction and waste of time of the last six months! Stewart has gone off, suffering very badly with dysentery. He was stubborn about it, and would not see the doctor, until at last he had to be carried off on a stretcher. I shall miss him very much, as he was good company. _October 30th._ A hot summer day, and flies a plague. The Division has sustained a sad loss to-day. Algy Wood, of the Essex, has gone West. He had been through everything since the landing, and at noon to-day was shot in the throat while in the support trench near his “orderly room.” He became a friend of mine, as he became a friend of all he met, and I have often referred to him in my Diary. He just had time to say to his sergeant-major, who went to him, “I’m finished, sergeant-major,” and then died. A name that will never be forgotten by the survivors of the 29th Division. Nearly all the best have gone now. Lord Howard de Walden comes into our dugout in the evening and has a chat; he is our D.A.A. and Q.M.G., and very popular. Munro is ashore to-day with Staff for a pow-wow at IX Corps H.Q. No news from Salonica. _October 31st._ Another summer day. Hardly any shelling on our part, and absolutely none on the part of the Turk. And so ends October, a monotonous, dreary month. Phew! how many more such months? NOVEMBER _November 1st._ Last night was very rough, and several lighters were wrecked on the beach. We also lost a destroyer, which ran on the rocks just off West Beach. No loss of life.