This camp on the slopes of the cliff is now the Rest Camp of the Division, and while two Brigades are in the line, one Brigade is at rest. At rest, that is, from bullets, and, if they keep under the cliff, from shells, but not at rest from digging fatigues. The road has to be made, and so have the dugouts on the side of the cliff. They get good bathing though, and bathing out here beats any that I have ever struck. I talk to the only two officers left of those who were with the Worcesters in England. They appear very breezy and bright. We are hard at work building our men’s bivouac, which is in the form of a funk-hole. We are digging it in the side of the cliff, from the top, and it will be entered by about ten steps leading down on to a terrace, which will run on the outside of the house, dug into the cliff’s side, under a sloping roof made with a sailcloth. It will be so situated that, should shells come our way, they will either burst on top, where our old bivouac still is, or fly over the cliff and burst in the road below or in the sea. We are modelling ours on a bivouac of some R.N.D. officers about fifty yards further up the cliff-side. On their terrace they have all their meals, including dinner at night, which is a luxury, with the sound of the waves washing against the road below and the view of Imbros in the distance. In their dugout house at night they go to sleep with more feeling of security than I have at present. I share a tent with Phillips. Just as I am turning in, Way comes in to say that Asia has just started sending over high explosives. None reach us, but they make a devil of a row, and I fall asleep feeling rather uncomfortable. _June 12th._ Woke up at 5.30 a.m. by shelling, shells from Asia nearly reaching a big transport that had come in overnight, on the opposite of our “bivvy.” Wind and flies as bad as ever, and it is getting very hot. Dust smothering everything. Turks reported to be sick of the war, and rumoured to be individually seeking a chance to give themselves up. But it is still a long, long way to Achi Baba. That must be taken first. Cliff on the west side up to Gully Beach covered with troops, looking like a lot of khaki ants from a distance; all back resting. They have to keep well under cover of cliffs, as they would soon be shelled. Major Lang, Worcesters, killed in the last battle. He was the officer I saw in the trenches when I went up for Bush’s letters. Bush also killed. This side of the war is the most difficult to bear. Just heard that Brigade are moving back to trenches after three days’ rest. _June 13th._