ing on the distant Suvla front. Doubtless more guns were
rumbling along the streets of Constantinople, and troops
concentrating in its squares. They were out for the biggest victory
of the Central Empires since Tannenberg. Six divisions from Suvla
and four from Helles would be a good day's bag. Perhaps the Turks
were not without pity for the tough little British Divisions that,
depleted, exhausted, and unreinforced, lay at their mercy on the
extremities of the Gallipoli Peninsula.

We knew they were coming, and joked about it.

"It's getting distinctly interesting, Captain Ray," said Doe, as we
sat drinking tea in Monty's dug-out in the Eski Line. "I say, give
me a decent funeral, won't you?"

"We shan't bury you," answered Monty unpleasantly. "We shall put you
on the incinerator."

"If the worst comes to the worst, I shall swim for it," said I,
always conceited on this point. "It'll only be a few miles easy
going, in this gorgeous December weather, from Gully Beach to
Imbros."

"But, _au serieux_," continued the picturesque Doe, "do you realise
that this is December, 1915, and we shall probably never see the
year of grace 1916? Damned funny, Captain Ray, isn't it?"

"Don't be so romantic and treacly," retorted Monty. "You'll do
nothing heroic. You'll just march down to W Beach and get on a boat
and sail away. There's going to be some sort of evacuation, I'm
sure. They've cleared the hospitals at Alexandria and Malta, and
ordered every hospital ship in the world to lie off the Peninsula
empty. They are prepared for twenty thousand casualties."

"Yes," agreed I, "and, as there are no reinforcements, it can't mean
a big advance, so it must mean a big retreat. There's nothing to
bellyache about. We're going to evacuate, praise be to Allah!"

"Oh, try not to be foolish, Captain Ray," returned Doe impatiently.
"Have you been so long on this cursed Peninsula without knowing that
we couldn't evacuate Suvla without being seen from Sari Bair, nor
Helles without being seen from Achi Baba? And, directly the jolly
old Turk saw us quitting, he, and the whole German army, and
Ludendorff, would stream down and massacre us as we ran. We'd want
every man for a rearguard action to hold them off. The bally thing's
impossible."

"Well, we did the impossible in getting on to the Peninsula," put in
Monty, "and we shall probably do the impossible in getting off.
Besides, not even Turks can see at night."

"That's all very fine,"