It is delightful weather and we continue our life, preparing the figures and accounts to draw the rations at night, and arranging for their issue. Usual shelling all day. In the afternoon, as I walk across the plateau to D.H.Q., an enemy aeroplane comes swooping over. I am near a party of men marching and hear the pop-pop of a machine gun. Almost immediately after, I hear the swish of bullets and see them kick up the dust round about. At first I can’t make it out. Then it dawns on me that the daring aviator is actually firing on the troops near me. I notice that instead of having a cross painted on his machine he has a square, which is the sign of the Bulgarian Flying Corps. I go back to tea with Farquhar in his lines, dug in trenches on the cliff-side over Corps H.Q., situated further round the cliff from our dugouts. As we are at tea, four enemy machines sweep over to “W” Beach, and shortly after I hear the sound of dropping bombs as they circle round and round. Our anti-aircraft guns (not plentiful) endeavour to bring them down, but they circle round unconcerned, and having discharged about thirty bombs, swing round and make back for their lines, keeping out to sea off the coast. I get back to the beach and find that their bombs have caused many casualties. To my great sorrow I learn that Cox, of the Essex, has been hit clean with one, and also a friend of the same regiment, both being killed instantly. They had come down from the rest camp to purchase some luxuries for the canteen for Christmas Day. After sticking it all this time to be killed like this, just two weeks before the time when the Division is to be relieved for good, is really far worse luck than met Algy Wood, of the same regiment. And now there are no more of the original Essex officers left. It has been rough to-day, especially at Imbros, which has a very exposed harbour, and in consequence it has been possible to issue only a very small percentage of fresh meat. It is bad luck, for to-morrow is Christmas Day, and I should like to have given the Division a full issue of fresh meat. However, a consignment of Christmas puddings has arrived from Lady Hamilton’s Fund and will be issued. We were promised many other luxuries, such as oranges and other fruits, but these have not arrived, owing to the difficulty of transport by sea. And so, for the majority of the men of the Division and all troops inshore, bully beef will take the place of the customary roast beef and turkey. _December 25th._ It is very beautiful weather. We do the best we can for the troops in the way of supplies, but it has to be bully beef and Christmas puddings for their dinners. The Turks are unusually quiet. I believe they know that it is our Christmas Day. We have a Christmas dinner in our dugout and a very cheery time. One of the cheeriest Christmas dinners I have ever had. Parcels from home pooled helped to make a good spread, and one can make excellent rissoles from bully beef.