At Gib. the company of soldiers for which the _Pamir_ was to carry supplies waited for us until the night before. But as we were held back by the fog and as the company was wanted in the East in a hurry, they went, piling their stuff on the deck of their boat. But the English didn’t wish to waste the hundred tons we had at their disposal, so they dumped in a great lot of preserves and jam and chocolate which was waiting on the dock. English soldiers feed jolly well, and the war must be costing England a pretty penny. We bought tobacco at Gibraltar and cards and Spanish wine. It is cheap and of good quality. But the place is as dull as ditch-water. It is apparently because of the war. There’s nothing worth seeing there except the landscape with the rocks. For the rest it might be a penal settlement. The _Pamir_ steered straight for Mudros, where they told us to report and get our orders on the spot. In the Mediterranean the weather was not so very bad, but all the same, Fourgues is right--one never knows what’s going to happen in the way of weather; the wind changes without one’s knowing why and the sea rises in an hour. The _Pamir_ had a roughish time, all the more so as Fourgues wouldn’t go fast because of the explosives in the hold. But it wasn’t worth the trouble carrying those shells, because when we reached Mudros they told us that of the two ships which were to take them, one had been sunk by a submarine the week before at the Dardanelles, and the other, after just escaping the same fate, had returned to Malta to be repaired. But how damned stupid it is to have known nothing at all about it simply because we had no wireless! We looked as though we had come down from the moon with our shells for the ---- and the ----, and everybody was laughing at us.