time we had the joy of receiving some letters and parcels, and
even a very limited supply of canteen stores. People at home hardly
realised as yet where we were, the conditions under which we were
living, and the time it took for parcels to arrive. One officer
received three parcels--the first containing his keys which he had
left on his dressing-table at home, the second, some sort of
collapsible boot-tree, and the third, about a three years' supply of
Euxesis shaving cream. Many a good cake too had to be hurriedly
removed and buried deep in the refuse pit. All the same, parcels were
a great joy to receive, and provided many an excellent tit-bit for
supper. Many, unfortunately, went missing--especially if they had the
labels of Fortnum & Mason, John Dewar, or Johnnie Walker. We sometimes
wondered if they were timid and preferred the comforts of the beach to
the hazards of the trenches.

The canteen arrangements could hardly be called a success either.
Occasionally a few supplies trickled through to us, and once an
expedition to Imbros was arranged to purchase stores at the local
markets. Eggs, fruit, biscuits, oatmeal, chocolate, etc., were ordered
by the hundredweight, and an officer sent to make the purchases. He
returned to tell us the expedition had fallen short of complete
success. His share of the plunder for the Regiment had been one packet
of chocolate which he had eaten.

[Illustration: OUR TRENCHES IN THE FRONT LINE AT SUVLA
Emery Walker Ltd. sc
_To face page 20_]

We had now completed our turn in the line, and were relieved by the
158th Brigade, and went back to our old place in reserve which we
found very filthy. How we wished there were Dr Tukes in every regiment
and battalion. He had so inculcated everyone of us--officers and men
alike--with the vital necessity of cleanliness and the deplorable
habits and peregrinations of the household fly, that we sometimes
wondered if we were scavengers or soldiers. Though we lay no claims to
perfection--or anything like it--few trenches were cleaner than ours
were, and right to the very end of the war we never left a trench or
billet without it being cleaner and more "lime and creosol"-ated than
when we entered it.

The water arrangements had also been revolutionised, and we actually
had cookers and water-carts in the lines, but the greatest joy of all
was to go bathing again. The weather was not nearly so hot, and the
flies which had tortured us in their myriad