If Abdul had entered our trenches then he would have found only a skeleton army waiting to fight a forlorn hope rearguard action. But all along the trenches he would have found other things. Cigarettes and jam and tobacco; all sorts of presents and Christmas boxes. Scores of the boys before leaving wrote little farewell messages to the Turks. Typical examples were these:--"Au revoir, Abdul. See you later on"; "Good-bye, Mahomet. Better luck next time"; "Abdul, you're a good clean fighter and we bear you no ill-will"; "Merry Christmas, Abdul; you're a good sport anyhow, but the Hun is a fair cow"; "So long, Abdul." And having told Abdul what he thought of him, the irresponsible Australian sauntered down to the beach and embarked! But many a silent tear was shed for the pals they had left behind, the quiet dead sleeping on Gallipoli.... It didn't seem quite right to clear out and leave Australia's dead behind. Some of the boys voiced the thought of many, "Tread softly, boys, and don't let them hear us deserting them." Some of the padres planted wattle round about the graves on Shell Green and Shrapnel Valley and Hell Spit and Brown's Dip.... By half-past one all were away but the "die-hards." Then from the Apex, after a final volley, streaked the first batch of the skeleton rearguard. There is a breach in the brave Anzac line at last. But Abdul does not know it yet. Soon the dare-devils at Quinn's Post heave a few bombs, then silently slink back, down the precipitous hill-side, and along the gully to the beach. From Courtney's and the Neck and the Pimple and Ryrie's Post and Chatham's all along the line came the "die-hards," full lick to the beach. But to their unutterable surprise there is no attack. They are not followed. The trenches that for eight long months defied the Turkish attacks are now open, not a solitary soldier left. But Abdul does not know it. There is still an intermittent fire from the Turkish trenches. They think our silence is some trick.... At half-past three on the morning of December 20 there was a burst of red flame and a roar like distant thunder. This was repeated shortly afterwards, and our two big mines on the Neck blew up. It was our last slap at the Turk. We cannot say what harm it did, but thinking the explosions were a prelude to attack the Turkish line all round Anzac burst into spiteful protest. There was a wild fusillade at our empty trenches, and on the transports the Australians smiled grimly. Shortly afterwards the Light Horsemen on the extreme right--Ryrie's lucky Second Brigade rearguard--entered the waiting cutters on Brighton Beach. Then the stores--such as we could not take away--burst into flame. Only two men were wounded.