World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Turkey -- Gallipoli Peninsula
The wind is cold and blowing steadily from the north-east, yet the sea
is not too rough for the getting off of stores. Lord Howard de Walden
and General Percival, the Brigadier of the 86th Brigade, which embarked
last night, are now on the beach as part of the regulating Staff of the
evacuation programme. This Staff, controlled by General Fanshawe, is
almost as efficient as could be, with the result that the last stage of
the evacuation is working like clockwork. Every man is accounted for.
_No_ man can leave before his time, _no_ man should be left behind.
Commander Unwin, who gained the V.C. at the landing of April 25th for
gallantry on “V” Beach, is in charge of conveyance of stores, animals,
and men from the beaches to the ships, and night and day he is on duty
on the piers. He stands over 6 feet and is broad in proportion, with
the typical clean-shaven face of a sailor, and with a voice that roars
orders through a megaphone, causing those who are ordered to jump about
a good deal quicker on their jobs than they probably would do otherwise.
I go down on the beach with a Staff officer this morning after a few
“Good-morning” shells have crashed on the beach roads and on the mounds
of earth, and we call at the embarkation office, in a sand-bagged
house, dug and built in the cover of a rock. There we find a few of the
Staff hard at work. The weather has been kind, and we are up to time
with the programme. We talk to two Yeomanry officers who are on the
Evacuation Staff. Everything is working perfectly, and I feel confident
that we shall succeed in evacuating long before the Turk discovers our
absence. Ships, when loaded full with supplies and passengers, proceed
to Mudros Harbour, where they are unloaded quickly, coming back the
following night. No ships pass to and fro between here and Lemnos
during the day, so that every morning that the Turk wakes up he notices
no extra ships lying anchored or the absence of the ships departed.
The view of the shipping lying in the bay inside the boom appears
unchanged, as is the case of the beaches day by day.
Regularly at dusk we go up to the C.R.E. nullah and issue rations from
the reserve supplies there. To-night we issue to the 88th Brigade only,
and the work in consequence is quickly finished. The distance to the
line is now short for the A.T. carts to take the rations up, for the
best part of their journey is made empty, namely from the lines at the
end of the promontory to our dump in the C.R.E. nullah. The journey
back to their lines from the trenches is now made with empty carts, for
all forward stores have been evacuated. There is no doubt that the Turk
hears the carts approaching to the various cookhouses, for the carts
rattle and the various parts of the harness clank loudly. Their sound
is certain to be heard by him in his front line, for the nights here
are so still. The Turk fires over towards the direction where he knows
the roads lie, hoping to claim a casualty in mule or man.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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