bent willow and thorn bivouac; part of a field telephone with the
wires running towards the upper ridges of Sirt; the remains of some
dried fish and an earthenware jar or "chattie" which had held some
kind of wine; a few very hard biscuits, and a mass of brand-new
clothing, striped shirts and white shirts, grey military overcoats,
yellow leather shoes with pointed toes, a red fez, a great padded
body-belt with tapes to tie it, a pair of boots, and some richly
coloured handkerchiefs and waistbands all striped and worked and
fringed.

It was near here that our first man was killed later in the day. He
was looking into one of these bivouacs, and was about to crawl out
when a bullet went through his brain. It was a sniper's shot. We
buried him in an old Turkish trench close by, and put a cross made of
a wooden bully-beef crate over him.

The sun now blazed upon us, and our rain-soaked clothes were steaming
in the heat. The open fan-like formation in which we moved was not a
success. We lost the officers, and continually got out of touch with
each other.

At last we reached the zone of spent bullets. "Z-z-z-z-e-e-e-e-e-pp!--
zing!" "S-s-s-ippp!"

"That one was jist by me left ear!" said Sergeant Joe Smith, although
as a matter of fact it was yards above his head. Here, among a hail of
moaning spent shots, our officers called a halt, made us fall in, in
close formation, and we retired--what for I do not know.

We went back as far as the old Turkish well. Here Hawk had something