Hawk and I had slept upon the deck. Now we got up and stretched our
cramped limbs. Slowly we warped through the quiet seas.

You must understand that we knew not where we were. We had never heard
of Suvla Bay--we didn't know what part of the Peninsula we had
reached. The mystery of the adventure made it all the more exciting.
It was to be "a new landing by the Xth Division"--that was all we
knew.

Some of us had slept, and some had lain awake all night. Rapidly the
pink sunrise swept behind the rugged mountains to the left, and was
reflected in wobbling ripples in the bay.

We joined the host of battleships, monitors, and troopships standing
out, and "stood by."

We could hear the rattle of machine-guns in the distant gloom beyond
the streak of sandy shore. The decks were crowded with that same khaki
crowd. We all stood eagerly watching and listening. The death-silence
had come upon us. No one spoke. No one whistled.

We could see the lighters and small boats towing troops ashore. We saw
the men scramble out, only to be blown to pieces by land mines as they
waded to the beach. On the Lala Baba side we watched platoons and
companies form up and march along in fours, all in step, as if they
were on parade.

"In fours!" I exclaimed to Hawk, who was peering through my
field-glasses.