line.

Those men who went out with a lot of "la-di-da swank" soon found that
they were nowhere in the game with the man who cut his drill trousers
into shorts--went about with his shirt sleeves rolled up and didn't
mind getting himself dirty.

There were very few "knuts" and they soon got cracked!

Shouting and talking was another point in scouting at Suvla Bay.
Brought up in towns and streets, many men found it extremely difficult
to keep quiet. Slowly they learnt that silence was the only protection
against the hidden sniper.

I remember a lot of fresh men landing in high spirits and keen to get
up to the fighting zone. They marched along in fours and whistled and
sang; but the Turks in the hills soon spotted them and landed a shell
in the middle of them. Silence is the scout's shield in war-time.

It fell to my lot to make crosses to mark the graves of the dead.
These crosses were made out of bully-beef packing-cases, and on most
of them I was asked to inscribe the name, number and regiment of the
slain. I did this in purple copying pencil, as I had nothing more
lasting: and generally it read :--

"In Memory of 19673,
Pte.------
Royal Irish Fus.
R.I.P."