It was cruel luck that he even was not permitted to land, for I learn that he was hit in the heart on the hopper shortly after General Napier was laid low. His last words were, “Oh, Lord! I am done for now.” I notice also that a bullet has torn the toes of his left foot away; probably this happened after he was dead. I hear that General Napier was hit whilst in the pinnace, on his way to the _River Clyde_, by a machine gun bullet in the stomach. Just before he died he said to Sinclair-Thomson, our Staff Captain, “Get on the _Clyde_ and tell Carrington-Smith to take over.” A little while later he apologized for groaning. Good heavens! I can’t realize it, for it was such a short while ago that we were all such a merry party at the “Warwick Arms,” Warwick. I report to Captain Stoney, of the K.O.S.B.’s, who is the M.L.O., and he hands over supplies to me. I clear the beach, make a small Supply depot and take stock, and start to issue to all and sundry as on “W” Beach the previous day. All day the French are arriving from the Asiatic side. No shelling. Evidently the Turks have no artillery. Davidson, an R.N.D. officer, tells me that he is quite used to handling the dead now. He has been told off to identify them on this beach and to take charge. I have a good look at the _River Clyde_. She managed to get within two hundred yards of shore, and now she is linked to the beach by hoppers. Two gangways are down at either side at a gentle slope from holes half-way up her sides, and very flimsy arrangements they are. It is difficult for the troops to pass each other on them. Men poured out from these holes in the ship at a given signal early on Sunday morning, and were quickly caught by machine gun fire, dropping like flies into the sea, a drop of 20 feet. Some of those who fell wounded from the hopper in the shallow water close inshore drowned through being borne down by the weight of their packs. Colonel Carrington-Smith, who took over command of the Brigade when General Napier was killed, was looking round the corner of the shelter of the bridge through glasses at the Turkish position on shore when he was caught by a bullet clean in the forehead and died instantly. Sunday night on the _Clyde_ was hell. One or two shells, luckily small ones from Asia, burst right through the side of the ship. Doctors did splendid work for the wounded all night on board. A sigh of relief came from all on board when the signal was given next day to land and take the beach, which was taken after much hand-to-hand fighting, the enemy putting up a gallant resistance, encouraged as they were by their success in preventing us from landing on this beach on Sunday.