one post to the next. All this carried a certain interest because we
knew that the Turk might come near at any time in the shape of a
flying raiding column to reach the canal. Rumours were frequent of
his proximity, and when Turk Top one night frantically reported
mysterious green lights, out towards the enemy, serious preparations
were made for his reception. The climax came, however, about noon
one day at Hill 70 when those who were not asleep heard, with a
mixed feeling of old familiarity, "s-s-s-sh-sh-SH--flop." Most of
us, after cringing in the usual manner, said, with a relieved air,
"Dud." Then followed commotion. They had arrived and were shelling
the post. The shimmering desert was eagerly scanned by the officers'
field glasses, and all kinds of things were seen and not seen.
Meanwhile someone went to look at the "Dud," and found not a shell
but a large stone, still quite hot. It finally dawned upon everyone
that we were bombarded from the heavens, and not by the Turk. It was
a meteorite, still preserved amongst the battalion's war souvenirs,
which had upset our composure.

Whilst on duty at these posts we had a visit from the Marquis of
Tullibardine, now Duke of Atholl, of the Scottish Horse, who was
responsible for this section of the Canal defences. Lieut.-Gen.
Lawrence, afterwards Chief of Staff in France, who was in command of the
northern section of the Canal defences also paid a visit, and
remembered us as part of the brigade which he had commanded on
Gallipoli. Important changes took place in the battalion at this time.
Lt.-Col. Canning, C.M.G., relinquished the command, and returned home
for duty in the Cork district. His departure was sorely regretted by all
ranks, for during the twelve months he had been with the 7th, his
capabilities as a commander had only been surpassed by his solicitude
for the men's welfare, so that he had made his way into our hearts as a