The whole force assembled at a point about half-way between Imbros and the intended landing. It was 1.30 a.m. of the 25th. The smoke rising against the westering moon probably betrayed their presence, but they waited till the moon set behind the jagged mountains of Imbros soon after three. As directed, the first tows were then manned, and the three warships moved abreast slowly towards the shore, followed by the trailing boats. At 4.10 a.m. they stopped, within about one and a quarter mile of shore, and the tows moved slowly forward, the destroyers following them at about half an hour’s interval. Probably it was in that interval that the salutary mistake occurred. Whether misled by ignorance of the coast and by the starlit darkness, or carried unconsciously by a current which sets along shore towards the Gulf of Xeros, the tows approached land rather more than a mile north of the appointed landing. The beach to which they made is a shallow arc of sand stretching for about half a mile between two small projections in the coast-line--Ari Burnu to the north, and what the Australians called Hell Spit to the south. One deep ravine, starting from an almost precipitous cliff (to be known as “Plugge’s Plateau”) divides the arc near the northern extremity at right angles to the shore; but confusedly broken and steep, though not absolutely precipitous, ground rises all around the cove--“Anzac Cove”--to a general height of over 200 feet. Wherever the ground--a mixture of soft sandstone and marl--was not too steep for vegetation, it was then covered with thick green or blackish scrub, chiefly prickly oak, difficult to penetrate, and in places six feet high. In later months the scrub served as a danger signal, for the spots where it remained were exposed to rifle or shell-fire. Everywhere else it disappeared, leaving the yellow surface bare. [Sidenote: THE ANZAC LANDING]