Sickness continued to make its levy on the officers. Lieut. Ruddock went down with pneumonia on the 13th November, and was succeeded as Adjutant by Lieut. G. A. Read. Captain Montgomery, who had returned to duty, had again to be sent away and was followed a few days later by Lieuts. G. A. F. Smith and H. J. Bowra. Dean Brennan, who had fallen a victim to jaundice, was also evacuated. Major Leane became ill, but as the Battalion was in reserve he was granted his plea to be allowed to remain with his company, and eventually pulled round. The weather was now becoming cold and unsettled. A third blanket was issued to each man. These blankets were of varied colours and when spread out to dry or air gave the landscape an appearance that must have puzzled any hostile aviator. On the 15th the wind began to rise early in the morning and blew clouds of dust about. The sea also became troubled. Two days later the atmospheric conditions got worse. Several boats were blown ashore and the piers damaged. About 8 p.m. rain descended and drenched those whose dugouts afforded little protection. During the worst period the enemy became "jumpy" and opened a heavy fire on the hill above. The prospect of having to ascend the slippery tracks was forbidding. However, quiet returned and daybreak revealed the sea rapidly subsiding. About this time, the Battalion witnessed an enemy aeroplane pass over our positions--dropping several bombs and arrows. One bomb fell near to the main ammonal magazine, but, very fortunately, failed to explode. This was the first of many similar experiences in other theatres of war. That the war had not destroyed the humane instincts of the soldiers was evidenced by an incident which occurred near the beach and was witnessed from Happy Valley. Two mules, secured together by neck chains, were being led northwards by a native attendant. Inadvertently, it would seem, the man left the cover of the excavated road, which was used for traffic and took his charges out into the open. Here they came into full view of the enemy snipers, who promptly killed one of the animals. The attendant immediately took to his heels and left the live mule anchored by the chain to his dead companion. Bullets began to throw up the dust around him--and it seemed to be only a matter of seconds before he would go too--when a Light Horseman ran out from cover, some 50 yards away, undid the chain, and, under an increasingly rapid fire, led the second animal to safety.