.
Private J. Adams.
Private C. G. Graham.
Sergt. F. H. Waddingham.
Lance-Corpl. M. F. Newnes.
Private M. M. Fitzpatrick.
Private H. W. Greenwood (wounded).
Private A. Harris (1st Rft.).
Private W. A. Johnstone.
Private E. Morrow (1st Rft., killed).
Private G. B. Neilson.
Private T. W. Spencer (1st Rft.).
Private H. K. de W. Harvey.
Private C. McKail.
Private N. A. Munro (killed).
Private E. S. Smart (1st Rft.).

CHAPTER X.

LEMNOS ISLAND.

The crowded "Osmanieh" left the anchorage opposite Anzac early in the
morning of the 13th December. Removed, for the time being, from the
everlasting noise and risk of battle, feeling also that the morrow would
bring real rest and a life of comparative ease, the troops slept well in
spite of their uncomfortable surroundings.

After daylight the transport entered Mudros Bay and before noon the
disembarkation had been carried out at a pier near the northern end of
Port Mudros.

The Battalion formed up and then moved off by a military road, made by
Turkish prisoners of war, which ran through the lines of the 2nd
Australian Stationary Hospital, the 3rd Australian General Hospital, and
a Canadian General Hospital, all of which were accommodated in marquees.
The staffs, and some of the patients, of these establishments stood by
the roadside as the new arrivals passed. Many friends and acquaintances
were recognised and the C.O. of the 2nd Stationary Hospital (Major G. W.
Barber) invited the officers of the Battalion staff to a dinner, to be
held the following evening, to mark the first anniversary of the medical
unit's departure from Australia.

Seen on the line of march for the first time for over three months, the
Battalion presented a sorry spectacle as compared with that witnessed
when it left Heliopolis on the 3rd September. Equipment fitted anyhow
and clothes were torn and stained. Few hats remained, their place being
taken by caps of various sorts and even woollen comforters. But the most
pitiful feature was the appearance of the men themselves. Emaciated
bodies, colourless faces, and lack-lustre eyes, revealed the effects of
the privations undergone, the continuous exposure to shell fire,
and--most of all--the inroads of disease.

The route the Battalion now followed led around a shallow inlet of the
sea to a camp near the little village of Sarpi. The distance was little
more than thre