A mysterious order for forty-eight hours' silence was hailed with delight by the men. No work was to be attempted, not a shot was to be fired. It was well to let the Turk believe that we could stay silent if we wanted to. If he had come on to investigate, our machine guns would have punished him severely. But he was too wary, and not prepared to put his head into our noose. He made no move. Perhaps he had a hearty laugh at our tempting him, so the ruse certainly prepared him for an occasional silence that might be priceless later on. Presently he became bolder and put out a good deal of wire. The silent period was lengthened and eventually ended at midnight of November 27/28, having lasted seventy-two hours. CHAPTER XVII. The Evacuation. Even as the military feat of the landing was unparalleled, so the situation now presenting itself to the staff was unique. Nowhere in history could be found any precedent. This was not an ordinary strategical or tactical retreat. With our farthest post about 3,000 yards from the sea; with a No Man's Land in many places only 20 yards wide; with the opposing trenches held by an unbeaten enemy--we had to disengage ourselves, march down narrow defiles, and embark from flimsy piers, each one of which was liable to be heavily shelled during the operation. This was no time for muddling through. Cool and ingenious brains propounded plan after plan. The orthodox thing would have been to attack everywhere but at Anzac and Suvla, and under cover of these diversions, seek to beat a retreat. But for many reasons this method did not commend itself. Already indiscreet people in high places had openly talked of evacuating the Peninsula. The Press of England had discussed the matter, and the Turk was bound to be suspicious. So it was decided that the enemy must be deceived as much as possible. A rumour became persistent that Lord Kitchener, with a great new army, would land and make one last grand effort on Christmas Day. Secret instructions were issued to officers that the evacuation would be accomplished in three distinct phases. First: all surplus men, supplies, and animals were to be sent away. Secondly: during December 13 and 14, a whole battalion and regiment should go out of each brigade--this alone would reduce the force by over a fourth. Thirdly: on the nights of December 19 and 20 there should embark the last rearguard, specially selected men, in numbers just strong enough to hold the line. With the memory of the blizzard and its accompanying wind--the wrecked piers at Imbros and Anzac were mute evidence of its fury--General Munro decided to accelerate the evacuation of Anzac and Suvla. On December 8, General Birdwood was ordered to prepare a detailed plan for the daring and perilous enterprise. Almost everything depended on the weather. Unless anything unforseen happened, Rear-Admiral Wemyss undertook to remove all the troops by the night of Sunday, December 19.