n, who were taking over our line, replaced one after
another my men on the firing-step, and kept the negligent fire
unbroken. With a whisper I officially handed over my sector to their
company commander.

"You'll follow us to-morrow, probably," I said, to comfort myself
rather than him. I didn't want the man who relieved me to be among
the killed.

"What _will_ happen, _will_ happen," he murmured. "Good luck."

"We shan't be sure we're really going," I prattled on, lest silence
became morbid. "I simply can't believe it. Either we shall be
killed, going from here to W Beach, or our orders will be cancelled
at the last moment."

"Pass the word to Captain Ray," whispered a voice, "to march his men
out."

"Word passed to you, sir, to march," said the sergeant-major.

"From whom?"

"Pass the word back--who from?"

"From Commanding Officer."

I walked to the head of my company. "File out in absolute silence,"
said I, not remembering at the moment that this was the great order
of evacuation. I watched my company file past me--twenty-eight men.
Then I followed, wishing it were lighter, for man never quite
outgrows his dislike of utter darkness--and this was a nervous
night. We threaded guiltily through the old trench system, and
emerged into the Gully Ravine, hardly realising that we had bidden
the old lines good-bye.

Since dusk the Turk, as apprehensive as ourselves, had been shelling
the Gully. And now, as we splashed and floundered along it, shells
screamed towards our column, making each of us wonder dreamily
whether he would be left dead by the wayside. We reached Artillery
Road, and discerned the shadowy form of the remainder of the
battalion.

A figure appeared from somewhere, and I recognised the voice as the
C.O.'s.

"I shall take the other companies by the road under the cliffs. Take
your men over the tableland, and wait for me at W Beach. We shall
get there more quickly and less noisily that way."

"Yes, sir," said I, saluting. But under my breath I swore. I had no
desire to take my men along the plateau, because, whereas the road
under the cliffs was well sheltered, the tableland was exposed to
all the guns on Achi Baba, every one of which--so jumpy was the
Turk--seemed manned and firing. And I had set my heart on getting my
company--all twenty-eight of them--off the Peninsula without the
loss of a single man. The route, too, lay over Hunter Weston Hill,
and I wanted to avoid seeing and thinking