The infantry battalions were in the same plight as the mounted regiments. Although having absorbed the 3rd, 4th, and 5th Reinforcements, these one-thousand-strong battalions of the landing were now pathetically weak--the strongest not totalling more than 300 men. Four months of living on monotonous food, of constant hammering at the Turk, of thirst and danger and fatigue, had left its mark on the hollow-cheeked, sunken-eyed, but dauntless-spirited soldiers of Anzac. Arriving at night, the men of the N.Z. Infantry Brigade stumbled along the dark and dirty highway. Many of the troops slept by the wayside rather than struggle on and further weaken themselves. As there were few tents at the camping place, it turned out that the ones who did struggle on were in no sense rewarded, and to make matters worse, a real Mediterranean downpour set in. Daily more "Indian pattern" tents arrived, into which as many as forty men crept at night. Gradually the number of tents increased, the weather cleared, and the men made an effort to extract a little pleasure out of life. Here at least there was no shelling, and the food, in quality and quantity, surpassed our most sanguine expectations. For the first time on active service we tasted the luxury of canteens. Even recreational institutes sprang up. Day by day the men gained strength until they were colourable imitations of the original arrivals at Anzac. How genuinely pleased we were to get the many gifts of eatables from New Zealand, and from good friends in England and Scotland--these good people can never realize what pickles, strawberry jam, condensed milk, crisp Edinburgh shortbread, illustrated periodicals, and letters meant to those war-worn, homesick men. A gift particularly touching was a large consignment of sweets packed in tins by the school children of the Dominion. Some of the cases had evidently been stowed too near the ship's boilers, as, on being opened, there was discovered a conglomerate mass of molten sugar, tin, and little notes from the various packers. Weird mixture though it was, the sweets were most acceptable, and appreciated not only for their value, but for the kindly solicitude that prompted the service. [Illustration: A FRENCH SENEGALESE. Dressed in white with a red sash, these troops were very vain and like all negroes could not keep their hands off the henroost.] Nurses!