The Indians stood the climate far better than the British or Australians, either as vegetarians or as habituated to the sun and protected by their colour, whereas the Australians and many of the British sought to avoid heat by going naked, and so exposed their white skins to the unaccustomed and baleful rays. Life in the bazaar or jungle had also rendered Indians immune to diseases against which our civilisation stands unprotected, and flies did not pursue the cleanly food of Hindus and Sikhs with the same persistent avidity. If some of the British troops upon the Peninsula had been exchanged for the Indian troops serving in France and Flanders, both armies would have gained in health. But perhaps a greater cause of disease than sun or flies or infection was the monotony of the diet, as mentioned before. Sir Ian’s appeals for canteens remained unheard till August 30, when a canteen-ship actually appeared at Anzac. Deputed purchasers from every unit hurried down to buy. Bursting with money, they stood in queues, but none received more than one-sixth of what he asked, and, as in a starving town, scarcity laughed at cash. But after the arrival of that one shipload of variety, the numbers of sick suddenly fell, and ultimately ten shiploads came. Allowance must also be made for the arrival of the 2nd Australian Division, which raised the average of health, until the infection spread among its members also; and that was soon. But more disheartening even than inactivity or disease was the disappearance of the dead and wounded. During August some 40,000--about one-third of the whole force--had gone. Entirely sufficient provision had now been made for the wounded alike in the largely increased number of hospital ships running to Alexandria, and in the hospital camps established near Suvla A Beach (too near the Hill 10 batteries) and on two positions along the Suvla promontory (also disturbed by shells owing to the proximity of store depôts, landing-places, and Corps Headquarters); at well-sheltered points along the Ocean Beach, near Anzac; upon the flats at the end of Kephalos Bay, in Imbros; and especially on the breezy rising ground overlooking Mudros harbour on the opposite side to Mudros town. The dead either lay beyond reach, gradually shrinking to dust on “No Man’s Land,” or were buried in carefully tended little cemeteries, their graves marked with wooden crosses and decorated with shell-cases or white stones arranged in patterns. Brief as regret and lamentation must be in war, it is melancholy to return to familiar dug-outs and find that the familiar occupants have gone, leaving possessions which they will not need again, and perhaps a written notice to warn off intruders from the deserted habitation. The sense of loss was especially poignant at Anzac, where, united by the bonds of adventure and nationality, the men had lived as in a crowded community of fellowship. [Sidenote: DISADVANTAGES OF NEW DRAFTS]