, 1915, disease and scarcity of water had depleted our ranks;
instead of having four days on the firing-line and eight days' rest, we
were holding the firing-line eight days and resting only four. In my
platoon, of the six non-commissioned officers who started with us, only
two corporals were left, I and one other. For a week after he had been
ordered by the doctor to leave the peninsula the other chap hung on,
pluckily determined not to leave me alone, although staying meant
keeping awake nearly all night. By this time dysentery and enteric had
taken toll of more men than bullets. These diseases became epidemic
until the clearing-stations and the beaches were choked with sick. The
time we should have been sleeping was spent in digging, but still the
men worked uncomplainingly. Some, too game to quit, would not report to
the doctor, working on courageously until they dropped, although down in
the bay beckoned the Red Cross of the hospital-ship, with its assurance
of safety, rest, and cleanliness. By sickness and snipers' bullets we
lost thirty men a day. Every day the sun poured down relentlessly,
adding to the torment of parched throats and tongues. Every night,
doubly cold in comparison with the day's burning heat, found us chilled
and shivering.

[Sidenote: The wounded considered lucky.]

Nobody in the front-line trenches or on the shell-swept area behind ever
expected to leave the peninsula alive. Their one hope was to get off
wounded. Every night men leaving the trenches to bring up rations from
the beach shook hands with their comrades. From every ration party of
twenty men we always counted on losing two. Those who were wounded were
looked on as lucky. The best thing we could wish a man was a "cushy
wound," one that would not prove fatal. But no one wanted to quit. Every
day rumors flew through the trenches that in four days all the Turks
would surrender. Men dying from dysentery and enteric lingered to see
it, but the surrender never materialized.

[Sidenote: Faith in Australians.]

We knew that in the particular section of trench held by us an advance
was hopeless. Still, we thought that some other parts of the line might
advance. There was always faith in the invincible Australasians. Early
in October, 1915, had come the news of the British advance at Loos. The
report that reached us said that the enemy on the entire Western front
had begun to retreat. The Australians, catching the Turks napping, took
two