full account of the attacks made on the
newly gained bluff upon our left. Shells busy bursting on "W" Beach.
Some French aeroplanes have arrived--God be praised! Shocked to hear
Birdie has been hit, but another message to say nothing serious, came
close on the heels of the first. Anchored at Imbros when I got a cable
asking me what forces I shall need to carry right through to a finish.
A crucial question, very much affected by what the Admiral told me last
night. Nothing easier than to ask for 150,000 men and then, if I fail
say I didn't get what I wanted, but the boldest leaders, Bobs, White,
Gordon, K., have always "asked for more" with a most queasy conscience.
On the face of it I need many more men if the Fleet is not to attack,
and yet I am not even supposed to have knowledge, much less an opinion,
as to what passes between the Fleet and the Admiralty!

_16th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ De Robeck came off the _Lord
Nelson_, his new Flagship, in the morning. The submarines are shadowing
him already, and there seems little doubt they are on their way.

Bridges has been badly wounded. The news upset me so got hold of H.M.S.
_Rattlesnake_ (Commander Wedgwood), and started off for Anzac. Went
ashore and saw Birdie. Doing so, I received a different sort of salute
from that to which a Commander-in-Chief landing on duty is entitled by
regulation. Quite a shower of shell fell all about us, the Turks having
spotted there was some sort of "bloke" on the _Rattlesnake_. We went
round a bit of the line, and found all well, the men in great heart and,
amidst a constant crackle of musketry, looking as if they liked it.
Birdie himself is still a little shaken by his wound of yesterday. He
had a close shave indeed. A bullet came through the chinks of a sandbag
and scalped him. He fell to the ground senseless and pouring with
blood, but when he had been picked up and washed he wanted to finish his
round of the trenches.

Embarked again under brisk shell fire and proceeded to the hospital ship
_Gascon_ where I saw General Bridges. He looked languid and pale. But
his spirit was high as ever and he smiled at a little joke I managed to
make about the way someone had taken the shelling we had just gone
through. The doctors, alas, give a bad, if not desperate, account of
him. Were he a young man, they could save him by cutting off his leg
high up, but as it is he would not stand the shock. On the other hand,
his feet are so cold from