July 23 was the anniversary of the “constitution” proclaimed by the Young Turks in 1908, and it was expected that the enemy would celebrate the dawn by another attack. Being then at Anzac, I made the following notes, which are here included as giving some idea of usual daily life upon the outer lines: “Reinforcements were known to be arriving, or perhaps arrived, across the Narrows--100,000 men, as reported. It was Ramazan, and the sacred moon, three-quarters full, gave light for climbing the precipitous yellow cliffs. By eleven I was at the highest point. Through deeply cut saps and ‘communications,’ the work of Australian miners, the way runs in winding labyrinth. Though the depth of our three-mile position measures no more than three-quarters of a mile from the shore to the farthest point inland (not counting by the measurement of cliff and valley surface, but straight through the air), the length of sap and trench runs to much over a hundred miles. The point I reached had served as a machine-gun emplacement, but that evening it was watched by a Sikh sentry who stood in the shadow, silent as the shadow. Mounted on the firing-step I looked over the sandbag parapet upon a peculiar scene. “Far on my right lay the sea, white with the pathway of the setting moon. Up from the shore ran the lines of our position. Close outside the lines, north, south, and east, the Turks stood hidden in their trenches--25,000 to 35,000 of them, as estimates say. All the time they kept up a casual rifle-fire. Some six miles away, in the centre of the Peninsula south, I could see the long and steep position of Kilid Bahr plateau, where the Turks drill new troops daily, and three or four miles farther still away rose the dangerously gentle slopes and low, flat summit of Achi Baba. Beyond it gleamed the sudden flashes of Turkish and British guns defending or assaulting the sand-blown point of land between Krithia and Cape Helles. Sometimes, too, a warship’s searchlight shot a brilliant ray across the view. “At one o’clock the moon set in a deep red haze over the sea. But nothing happened. The enemy merely kept up a casual fire upon our sandbags, shaking the sand down upon my face as I lay on a kind of shelf beside the parapet. Then suddenly, just on the stroke of two (about midnight in London), an amazing disturbance arose. [Sidenote: A TURKISH OUTBURST]