s of Sari Bair. From
over Asia it had risen and, doubtless, beyond the unwon ridges that
blocked our view, the Straits of the Narrows were glistening like a
silver ribbon in its light. We would have been dull fools if we had
gazed otherwise than spellbound at this sunlit landscape, where the
blood of lost battles was scarcely dry upon the ground.

What surprised us most was the invisibility of the warring armies.
On the beaches, certainly, there were tents and stores and men
moving. But the rolling countryside beyond seemed bleak and
deserted. Only occasionally a high-explosive shell threw up a spout
of brown earth, or a burst of shrapnel sent a puff of white smoke to
float like a Cupid's cloud along the sky. And yet two armies were
hidden here, with their rifles, machine-guns, and artillery pointed
at each other.

Yes, and yonder invisible Turk had behind him a sun whose rays were
pouring down upon our guilty troopship. Any moment we might expect
to hear a shell, addressed to us, come whistling down the sun-shaft.
We had reached at last the shell-swept zone. From now onwards there
could be no certainty that we would not be alive one moment and dead
the next. We shivered pleasantly.

It was not till noon that a lighter came alongside, and, having
taken us all aboard, proceeded to make for the beach. All the while
the Turk left us unmolested, causing us to wonder whether he were
short of ammunition, or just rudely indifferent to our coming to
Suvla or our staying away. Two shells or three, we thought, would
have had their courteous aspect. But without greeting of any kind
from the enemy our lighter rose on the last wave and bumped against
the jetty. We gathered our equipment, and with egotistical thrills
stepped upon the Gallipoli Peninsula. For the first time we stood in
Turkey. We felt in our breasts the pride of the invader.

Monty, as spokesman of our party, led us into the office of the
M.L.O., and assured the gentleman that we had come to Suvla to find
the East Cheshires.

"The Cheshires aren't at Suvla," said the M.L.O., with the acerbity
of an overworked staff-officer. "They never were, and never will be
at Suvla."

"Oh," answered Monty brightly, seeing a vision of his friend, the
M.L.O. of the _Aragon_, "then they'll be at Helles."

The Suvla M.L.O. blasted Monty with a look, and said: "That's the
remark of a fool."

"Exactly," agreed Monty; "it was the remark of an M.L.O."

And he explained how, al