Gee, forty-five years of age, and who at the best of times could not be called robust-looking, stuck this storm through at his post in the trenches, which are situated on the lowest ground—trenches which in consequence suffered the worst of all—until he was relieved. He told me after that on coming back on relief he came to a small nullah, and that he was so weak and finished that he actually cried like a child before he could summon up the will-power to get across that little brook, which at ordinary times he would have cleared at a leap. _Later._ The evacuation of Suvla, which was decided on before the storm and then cancelled, I believe has now been finally decided on. Parties are now hard at work at night improving the second line, which stretches behind our first line on the same latitude as our C.R.E. dump, across the Gibraltar road and over to Hill 10. A third line is being dug just a short way in on the mainland from “W” Beach, and over the hill of the promontory a fourth line also. Our dugout is now being rapidly repaired, and the dugouts behind on the higher ground, one story higher, are now finished. All the dugouts are built together as a whole, really forming a picturesque house. On the ground floor, up a short path bordered by little gorse-bushes and a rockery, one enters our messroom, furnished with a table, arm-chairs, and a stove made from an oil-drum. Two smaller rooms lead out from the left, and two from the right. One is the clerk’s office, in which he sleeps, and the other three are each occupied by Horne, Elphinstone, and myself. Next to our dugouts, on the same level, are the dugouts of the Q.M.’s of a few regiments, which are built on the same scale as ours, but separated by a flight of about a dozen steps running up in a bend to a row of smaller dugouts, which house the N.C.O.’s of our Supply Section, a few quartermaster-sergeants, regimental N.C.O.’s, and the two Brigade postal staffs. Opposite, in the gully, as the trenches that we had made are now damaged beyond repair by the recent storm, the remainder of the men live in shelters made from sailcovers and tarpaulins, with shrapnel-proof roofs, built in places where boulders and mounds of earth protect them from high explosive shells. Behind us is an Egyptian encampment, situated in full view of the Turks among rocks and boulders. But as they sleep most of the day, working only at night digging on the beaches, they cause very little movement to be seen by the enemy, and in consequence have been very little shelled. If a shell does come near them, however, they make no bones about running as far away as possible, chattering like a lot of chickens. All day cases of frozen men, now happily diminishing in number, are being shipped off. It was the most terrible storm I have ever witnessed. DECEMBER _December 1st._