nfantryman. Day after day,
the Battalion was called upon to supply from 400 to 600 men for
fatigues. Sometimes these were day fatigues under the R.E.; more
frequently for the A.S.C. or Ordnance at one or other of the beaches,
unloading and stacking stores and ammunition; but most of our work was
by night, when large parties were employed under the R.E. in the
construction of main communication trenches to enable troops to be moved
up to the various sectors of the firing line without using the exposed
roads or crossing the open. Though the men never pretended to like this
work it was carried out cheerily enough.

Facilities for personal cleanliness were rare on the Peninsula, but when
in rest camp the men were encouraged to bathe, a portion of "X" Beach,
which was within half a mile of our lines, being allotted for this
purpose. Full advantage was taken of this. The cliff overlooking the
beach was honeycombed with untidy dug-outs; the beach itself rough and
dirty, the water still dirtier, clay-coloured and coated with a thick
scum of straw, grain, and other light debris from the barges that were
unloading--all that could honestly be said in its favour was that it was
wet. After a time the officers discovered that it was worth the
forty-minutes walk to bathe at a cleaner and more attractive beach,
Morto Bay, on the other side of the Peninsula. This lay within the
French sphere. To reach it we had to pass through some of our allies
Rest Lines, and it was interesting to have a peep at them and at their
ways of doing things. The beach at Morto Bay was clean and sandy; the
water clear, though very shallow for a long distance out. It was an
ideal spot for a lazy floating bathe. But it had one drawback. The
enemy's Asiatic batteries and their aircraft were rather addicted to
landing shells and dropping bombs in its placid waters--shells and bombs
intended, no doubt, for the camps near the shore, but none the less
distracting to the bathers whose ablutions they disturbed. Two of the
officers returned one evening with a thrilling tale of a huge bomb which
had landed in the sea within fifty yards of them.

Our Church Parades, which were only possible when in rest camp, were
peculiarly impressive. To assemble the men during daylight was out of
the question; the services were therefore held under cover of darkness.
Although attendance was voluntary there was almost invariably a good
turn-out. None of us is likely ever to forget the