The last day came. It was Sunday, December 19. Little by little the forces at Suvla had been reduced to 12,000 men and 16 guns, whereas, to hold a front line the length of ours, 33,000 men would be required by regulation. The day was passed as usual, each man doing his utmost to give a crowded appearance to the scene. At sunset, the guns fired their parting salute and were withdrawn--the last at 9.30. The men were then brought away--rather more than 6000 to Suvla Point, rather less to Nibrunesi. A small party was left to keep up rifle-fire in the front trenches. Larger parties were left to hold the second and third lines. The rest embarked. Shortly before midnight the front line came in, leaving lighted candles which at irregular intervals burnt a string to discharge a rifle, so that a desultory fusillade was maintained for about an hour. The second and third lines followed in turn, only sappers remaining behind to close up the barbed-wire gates, to cut the telephone wires, and to set trip- and contact-mines at points of likely resort. A party of 200 (I think, 9th West Yorks) were to hold the fourth line to the last, and sacrifice themselves if the Turks attacked. Intermittent outbursts of firing came from the Turks, and we could hear the rumbling explosions as they toiled at blasting new trenches--an interesting example of labour lost. Once an aeroplane whirred overhead, invisible until she dropped one green star, which blazed for a few seconds just below Saturn and showed her to be ours. On the earth a few fires burned where camps were once inhabited, but gradually they faded out. Two lights glimmered from deserted hospital tents along the curving shore; for our doctors had remained to the last in readiness for the deaths and wounds of disaster. But now even they had gone, leaving notes to thank the Turks for their consideration towards the Red Cross. Otherwise, only the sea and the moon showed light, and over the white surface of the water those thin black lines kept moving away. From the little harbour arose the varied noise of screaming mules, rattling anchor chains, shouting megaphones, engines throbbing and steamers hooting low. Still the Turks gave no sign of hearing, though they lay almost visible in the moonlight across that familiar scene. At last the final lines of defenders began silently to steal down the paths of Karakol Dagh, leaving four A.S.C. officers under Col. Hodsoll to fire vast piles of abandoned stores--biscuits, bully-beef, and bacon. Officers of the beach party, which had accomplished such excellent and sleepless work, collected. At 4.30 a.m. of the 20th the defenders of the fourth line--about 200 in all--embarked from the concealed pier on the Gulf of Xeros side of the cliffs. And at the same time, General Byng, motioning Brigadier-General Reed, his Chief of Staff, to pass in front of him, left Suvla Point, being the last to leave.