e busy putting up the operating
marquee and other tents, and the cooks in getting a fire going and
making tea.

The stretcher-squads worked slowly forward. We passed an old Turkish
well with a stone-flagged front and a stone trough. Later on we came
upon the trenches and bivouacs of a Turkish sniping headquarters. There
were all kinds of articles lying about which had evidently belonged to
Turkish officers: tobacco in a heap on the ground near a 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 to
say.

"Our place is advancing," said he, "not retiring because of a few spent
bullets. There's men there dying for want of medical attention--bleeding
to death."

The next time we went forward that day was in Indian file, each
stretcher-squad following the one in front.

A parson came with us. I marched just behind the adjutant, and the
parson walked with me. He was a big man and a fair age. We went past the
well and the bivouacs. I could see he was very nervous.

"Do you think we are out of dan