Part 23

Stone and brick buildings for offices, workshops, and store-houses, a narrow-gauge railway with petrol-driven engines, electric generating stations, half a dozen substantial piers, and miles and miles of roads--all had been built since the end of April. In the harbour itself lay more transports, store ships, colliers, oil ships, and water-tank ships than before the first landing. A line of French battleships faced a line of British. Monitors big and monitors little, cruisers, scouts, and sloops off duty, coaled, provisioned, and rested prior to returning to their bombarding or submarine-hunting jobs. Up in a corner, near Mudros West, and opposite Turkish Pier, lay the _Blenheim_, the mother ship of destroyers, surrounded by those of her children off duty. At another part of the harbour the submarines, resting after having come down from the Sea of Marmora through the nets across the Dardanelles, or preparing calmly to go up there again, nestled alongside the _Adamant_. Two or three white hospital ships were at anchor inside the harbour; eight or nine out beyond the nets at the entrance. Among all these puffed and snorted a great number of motor-lighters, the "water-beetles"--doing all the work of moving troops and stores, and doing it marvellously well. In fact, it is difficult to imagine how the work would have gone on without them.

The first day of her "rest" the _Achates_ coaled, and on the second took in provisions from the little _Dago_. This little steamer ran between Malta and Mudros with frozen meat and vegetables for the fleet. She also at times brought the private stores ordered by the gun-room messman, so that the Honourable Mess had a warm spot in their hearts for her.

That week's rest extended for nearly two months and a half. During this time, so many of the officers and men were employed away from the ship that the _Achates_ became immobilized, and did not take her turn for "guard" duties or as "emergency" ship. Every morning sometimes as many as two hundred and fifty of her men were called for by the "water-beetles", and taken away to coal leviathan transports, or to dig up rubble and load it into some steamers which were being prepared to be sunk as breakwaters off the various beaches on the Peninsula. The big steamer _Oruba_ presently arrived, and the _Achates_ had the job of dismantling her and preparing her to be sunk at Kephalo.

Those coaling jobs did not appeal to the snotties, though even they had their compensations, as the Orphan proved when he came back from coaling the _Mauretania_ for three whole days, dirty and tired, but with tales of pleasant meals on board her, and hugely proud because he had managed to buy two boxes of kippers and one of haddock.

For a whole week, each of the Honourable Mess had a kipper or a haddock for breakfast, and Bubbles considered that "it wasn't such a rotten war after all".

The Pink Rat about this time finally broke down, and had to be sent to the naval hospital ship _Soudan_ with a recurrence of his old "W beach" dysentery. He never rejoined the _Achates_, and on the broad shoulders of Bubbles devolved his light duties as "senior snotty".

Flies were troublesome, but not so bad as at Suvla, and the weather remained gloriously fine until the end of October.

Every evening after "seven-bell" tea, whenever it was possible to obtain a boat--a whaler or a gig--as many of the Honourable Mess as could get away would pull or sail down to the harbour entrance, land, cross over a narrow neck of land near the wireless station, and bathe in a delightful little cove; afterwards they would kick a football about on some level ground there, and sail or pull back with grand appetites for dinner. Why the China Doll was never drowned on those expeditions it is difficult to explain.

Two football grounds had been made, quite close to this "wireless" station, and the use of them was given to each ship in turn--two matches a day on each. So, often the ward-room and gun-room combined to play the officers of other ships; often, too, the men arranged matches between different parts of the ship--Bubbles and his fo'c'sle men--the Orphan and the Sub with their foretop men--the War Baby and his marines--the Lamp-post and Rawlins with their quarter-deck men.

Many good games they had, and if only there had been any cheering news, this period would have been a very pleasant one. But nothing went well anywhere. The great "push" in Flanders and France had come to a full stop; the Russians only just managed to keep the Germans from advancing--in fact, but for the approach of winter, people wondered whether they could keep them out of Petrograd (no one could get used to that name), and whilst the Germans and Austrians swept across the Danube into Serbia, the Bulgarians poured across the eastern frontier. Troops in thousands, French and British, had been rushed across to Salonica, but Greece still "sat on the fence"; she would not help, and the French and British arrived too late to prevent Serbia being overwhelmed. No attempt had been made on the Peninsula to advance; and dysentery raged in the army--thousands of cases being taken away every week. The number of German submarines in the Mediterranean had become more numerous, and the area to patrol with trawlers, destroyers, scouts, and sloops was so vast that the difficulties of suppressing them grew enormously. One thing alone was satisfactory: enough stores had been landed on the various beaches to maintain the army there, at a "pinch", for six weeks--long enough to tide over any probable period of bad weather, when landing might be impossible. There was also a certain satisfaction in seeing the constant stream of ships which came in through the harbour entrance every morning, and to know that they had safely run the gauntlet of the submarines; but everyone realized that "The Great Adventure" had failed, and that to maintain the army in its present precarious footing on the Peninsula was causing an immense drain on the resources of British shipping, without any apparent disadvantage to the enemy.

One bright spot cheered everyone--the deeds of our own submarines in the Sea of Marmora. But for them, the prestige of the Allies in the East would have fallen to a very low ebb at that time.

By the middle of October "all white" uniform changed to "all blue", and this marked the commencement of cooler weather.

Lord Kitchener arrived early in November, inspected all the army "positions", and went away again.

Till his coming, there had been some speculations as to the possibility of evacuating the Peninsula; but the extraordinary difficulties of this operation had been so evident, that those two military experts, the China Doll and the Pimple, had long since decided that it could not be accomplished without tremendous loss of life, a huge number of men left behind as prisoners, and most of the guns abandoned.

Now, again, everyone wondered what Lord Kitchener thought, and what would happen.

After his departure the weather broke up temporarily, and a south-westerly gale--only a mild one--left Suvla and Anzac and Cape Helles beaches strewn with wrecked or stranded picket-boats, lighters, and "water-beetles".

In the third week of November the _Achates_ received the welcome order to proceed to Kephalo. The full moon shone brilliantly as she slipped out through the nets, and off she went. Two hours after leaving Mudros the track of one torpedo shot across her bows, and half a minute later another passed some eighty yards astern of her--Fritz, or one of his brothers, had fired two torpedoes--so she increased speed and "zig-zagged".

The danger had vanished by the time it had been realized; and all that the Honourable Mess and the gramophone knew about it, was the sudden rushing down of men to close those water-tight doors and hatchways which remained open, and a lurid description from the Pimple afterwards. It did not interrupt the delightful concert with worn-out records and blunted needles.

By three o'clock she entered the submarine-net "gate" at Kephalo; and when the sun rose next morning it shot up from behind Achi Baba, and once again they heard the distant booming of guns.

Kephalo, at the corner of Imbros Island nearest to the Peninsula, is a narrow harbour with high hills on one side and a narrow spit of land on the other. It is entirely open to the north-east--the quarter from which the worst of the winter gales blow--so three ships, including the big _Oruba_, had been sunk across it, higher up, to give protection to the little piers built there, and to the picket-boats, motor-lighters, and ordinary lighters which worked round them.

Kephalo had become the advanced base of Anzac and Suvla, ten and twelve miles away respectively, and it was absolutely necessary that troops and stores should be able to be landed or embarked at all times. Here, too, were the aerodromes which "Cuthbert" and his brothers so delighted to bomb. One of these was stationed on the low spit of ground; and the Orphan, who had the knack of making friends with everyone, and the knack of generally being in the right place at the right moment, managed one afternoon to be taken "up" in a reconnoitring aeroplane. He and Bubbles had strolled along to the aerodrome, wandered round until someone invited them to tea in the "mess"; and whilst in the middle of it, the "Flying Officer" on duty received an urgent signal: "Hostile submarine reported off Gaba Tepe, steering S.W.; please send aeroplane reconnaissance to search".

"Confounded nuisance!" exclaimed the Flying Officer. "I wanted to write some letters; the mail goes to-morrow morning. Well, you chaps can tell a submarine from a shark, I suppose; which of you would like to come along and spot old Fritz?"

They both grinned with delight; but Bubbles carried too much weight--at least a stone and a half more than the Orphan--so the Orphan was chosen.

The emergency aeroplane--a biplane--rested on its wheels outside the sheds. They walked across to it.

"Climb in!" said the Flying Officer. "No, you won't want a coat; stick on this cap and goggles--pull the flap down over your ears--and get in as you are; we shan't be away more than an hour. Sit down behind; I've altered the control gear--can work it from the front seat."

The Orphan had never been in an aeroplane before, and tingled with excitement. He sat down and winked at the disappointed Bubbles whilst his new friend climbed up in front of him and began to play about with levers and switches. "If you do see Fritz, signal with your hand--bang me on the back--it's no good shouting: I shan't be able to hear you."

The blades began whizzing round as the engine buzzed; men gave the machine a shove and a push; the blades went so fast that they only made a mist in front of the Orphan's eyes; the ground dropped away, and he shouted to Bubbles to wait for him--though it wasn't much use shouting, because of the noise of the engines.

Up they went, passing over the _Swiftsure_, the _Achates_, and the other ships in the harbour, and out beyond the line of submarine-net buoys.

They headed right over the sea, first of all towards Helles; passed it, swept round, and the Orphan clutched at the sides of the "body" as the aeroplane altered course, for he thought she was slipping sideways. Not a sign of Fritz did he see, but below him lay the end of the Peninsula, its white tents, "W" beach, the hull of the poor old _Majestic_ showing clearly under the sea, Achi Baba and the streaks which represented the Turkish trenches. In another ten minutes he looked down on Gaba Tepe, at one of the "Edgar" class firing shells which he could see bursting among the streaks on top of the hills there. Up the coast the aeroplane sped, passed Suvla with its black submarine-net buoys--he counted one hundred and fifty-two of them; the two battleships inside them looked tiny, so did the tents on shore. Then, with another wide sweep over the sea, and bending to the right, he was carried along the left-flank coast till he could see the little gap of Ejelmar Bay, where he and the Sub had tried, that night three months ago, to find Fritz; and beyond it, with some humpy hills between, the sun glittered on a broad sheet of water and a silver streak which came in sight, in and out beyond the hills--the Sea of Marmora and The Narrows.

Round swept the aeroplane; he clutched the sides; she steadied and flew back towards Helles again, but not a sign of a submarine could he see; and in fifty-five minutes from the time he had started, he was landed with a gentle bump outside the aerodrome, and found Bubbles waiting for him.

"You _are_ a lucky chap," he bubbled. "Did you see Fritz?"

The Orphan shook his head. "But I saw The Narrows and old Marmora; wasn't that splendid?"

"Anybody fire at you?" Bubbles asked.

"Oh no!" explained the Flying Officer; "there was a bit of a haze over the sea, so I could not go very high--shouldn't have seen Fritz if I had--so it was dangerous to go too near land. We never climbed above 2500 feet."

They only just had time to catch the evening boat off to the _Achates_, so they had to wish their new friend good-bye and hurry back along the beach, the Orphan talking thirteen to the dozen.

Pride filled the bosom of this young officer, for he was the only one in the ship who had seen either The Narrows or the Sea of Marmora. "It looks so near to The Narrows!" he said to the Sub that night. "It doesn't look more than an hour's walk. Things have turned out rottenly, haven't they?"

"It _is_ rather tragic--really," the Sub said.

The first job the _Achates_ had, after arriving at Kephalo, was to send working parties across to Anzac to help salve some lighters, a tug, and two picket-boats, driven ashore by the first of those gales from the south-west. The first of the fierce gales from the north-east followed, after two days of calm, and drove such heavy seas into Kephalo harbour that the ship had to put to sea, and anchor round the corner of the island, behind another row of submarine nets, in Aliki Bay. She came back as soon as that gale had blown itself out; but on the 27th of November another north-easterly gale commenced, and next day she again had to shift round to Aliki Bay. Here she and all the other ships that had come round for shelter rode out that three days of blizzard which caused such horrible suffering to the troops at Suvla--to British and Turk alike. The temperature on board ship never fell below 30 degrees, but at Suvla it fell to something like 15 or 18, even lower. First of all, before the gale it rained in torrents, and as the water collected and flowed down from the hills behind Anafarta into the valley, it washed over the Turkish trenches, levelling them, and carrying drowned Turks, drowned mules, barbed wire and their posts right over a long section of the British lines, drowning a large number of the British, flooding their trenches, and carrying everything before it till the Salt Lake was reached. When the rain ceased the bitter north-east gale flung itself down from the hills, bringing at first heavy snow; then the terrible cold froze the water in the trenches, and hundreds of our men, up to their middles in it, died of exposure, and very many hundreds suffered from frost-bite.

During those three days the troops at Suvla experienced the climax of hardship and exposure. The Turks suffered even more than our own people; and when daylight broke after the worst night, they were left exposed in the open with their trenches swept away, and our men--those whose hands were not too numbed to fire a rifle--shot them down like rabbits. Afterwards, a gentle breeze sprang up from the south-west, and, almost as if in pity, a warm sun shone down on those much-tried armies.

On the Tuesday the ships trailed back to Kephalo again, getting a glimpse of Samothrace with its snow-clad peak glittering in the sun--a most gorgeous, exquisite spectacle.

They found that the centre one of those three breakwater ships had disappeared entirely, and the head of the harbour behind them, close to the piers, was absolutely littered with wreckage. This centre ship had broken in half on the Sunday night, and the seas sweeping through the gap had hurled all the picket-boats and lighters sheltering behind her on to the shore, in one jumbled, tumbled mass.

They presented a most extraordinary sight piled on top of each other, and half buried in a huge mass of seaweed swept in with them. A big distilling steamer, with her rudder gone and her rudder-post smashed, had been driven ashore farther along the bay; beyond her lay a "water-beetle" high and dry, and, still farther along the shore, one of those small provisioning "coaster" steamers which ran between Kephalo and the Peninsula.

Salvage work commenced immediately. The Lamp-post and Rawlins took fifty men ashore, and worked, day after day, digging away the seaweed which blocked the little piers, and trying to refloat the least damaged of the steamboats; the Sub, with a number of men, had to rig shears to lift out the engines and boilers of those which were hopelessly smashed--all very unpleasant work, because that seaweed decomposed quickly under a hot sun and gave out the most unpleasant odour.

A more pleasing job had Bubbles and the Orphan. With a large working party they commenced to dig a channel through the sand--good, honest, clean sand--in order to refloat a stranded "water-beetle". They paddled about all day and had a huge lark.

On the second morning, as they prepared to go ashore, Uncle Podger, on his way to his bath, sang out: "Take your little buckets and spades and go down to the beach, dears, but promise Mummy not to get wet."

"We'll promise Uncle a jolly 'thick ear' when we do come back," they laughed. "Come along by the seven-bell boat, bring a basket and some tea 'grub', and we'll have a picnic there."

"Cuthbert" came over from Maidos once or twice, just to make "kind enquiries", find out how the salvage operations progressed, and see whether three or four bombs would be of any assistance. They were not; none of them dropped near enough to help, and all much too far away to do any damage.

The weather became simply perfect, and after a week's hard work the _Swiftsure_ had hauled off the distilling ship and one of the "water-beetles", the _Achates_ had towed off that small steam "coaster", and Bubbles and the Orphan had dug a channel sufficiently deep for a tug to come along and tow off their stranded motor-lighter.

That especial job being finished, these two midshipmen again had time to look round and see what life would bring. It brought news of woodcock and partridge--woodcock in the deep sheltered valleys, and partridge on the slopes of the hills. The little Padre lent them his shot-gun, and away they tramped one day, taking the China Doll to "beat" for them and to carry home all the birds. They swore a solemn oath that each should fire alternate shots, an arrangement which made a "right and left" difficult to get when frightened coveys were put up. Bubbles fired the deadly shot which eventually killed a partridge, and, of course, by the time the Orphan had seized the gun the rest of that covey had swooped out of range.

They sent the China Doll to retrieve the bird, and sat down to smoke their pipes and shout good advice at him; for the hill-side was covered with boulders and thick scrub, and the China Doll had a big job in front of him. "Keep it up, China Doll; never despair!" they shouted encouragingly as he came back with his hands and knees scratched and bleeding. "'If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again.' We've got another hour to wait for you. Off you go!"

At last the bird was picked up; and in the gun-room that night they held an inquest on it, and found that "it had been well and truly killed by one or more missiles discharged from an explosive weapon, and that no trace of foul play, such as bludgeoning or being strangled, could be discovered".

Then came the question as to how it should be "hung", and for how long. The China Doll said that "the proper thing to do was to hang it by the head, and when the corpse dropped off, then it would be just right." They thought of trying the experiment on him, but desisted on the urgent representation of Uncle Podger that, if the China Doll's body dropped off his head, the work of the Ship's Office would be seriously delayed whilst he, Uncle Podger, attended the funeral as chief mourner--and, besides, he had no _crepe_ band to go round his arm.

Eventually Bubbles and the Orphan ate that bird on the second day--after innumerable visits to the gun-room galley to see how it progressed--and it was as tough as tough could be. They gave the China Doll the gizzard.

A week later the little Padre mildly suggested that next time they borrowed his gun they might clean it before they put it back in the case. "It doesn't get quite so rusty," he said apologetically.

For many months the southern portion of Anzac--Brighton Beach and Watson's Pier there--had practically been abandoned, because "Beachy Bill", a high-velocity 4.1-inch gun, somewhere up in the Olive Grove, above Gaba Tepe, had the range of the pier so exactly that he would hit the end of it, or lighters lying alongside, with his very first shot of the day, and his fire at night was almost as accurate. Several attempts had been made to destroy him (probably he had several brothers), but these had not been successful.

One day--the 10th December--the _Bacchante_, an "Edgar" cruiser, and two monitors went across from Kephalo, and fired a great number of rounds into the Olive Grove. Whether "Beachy Bill" or his brothers were hit or not, no one could actually say; but only one gun fired after that day, and it made such inaccurate shooting as not to interfere with work either on the pier or the beach. It did not fire at all at night.

At the time no one, except perhaps Captain Macfarlane, knew the meaning of this great expenditure of ammunition; but two days later, "all hands and the cook" were told off for various jobs, either at Suvla or Anzac, in motor-lighters or picket-boats, or actually on the beaches themselves; and it dawned on the enthusiastic Honourable Mess that, after all, an attempt was to be made to evacuate those places, and that the last prodigal bombardment of the Olive Grove had been for the purpose of finally destroying the guns there, and making it possible to use Brighton Beach and Watson's Pier for the embarkation.

So secretly had everything been carried out, that no one in the gun-room knew that most of the stores and the greater part of the guns, horses, and mules had already been withdrawn.

They had seen fleet-sweepers and the troop-carriers--the _Osmanieh_, the _Ermine_, _Reindeer_, _Redbreast_, _Abassiah_, and several others--crowded with troops on their way to Suvla or Anzac; but they had not seen them returning still more densely packed with men, nor the transports with horses, guns, and stores. This had all been done by night.

Rumours flew round that though Suvla and Anzac were to be abandoned, the end of the Peninsula, in front of Achi Baba, was to be reinforced by all that remained of the 29th Division, and maintained at all costs.

The Lamp-post and Rawlins, ordered to take charge of two "water-beetles", donned their dirty old khaki delightedly, and took over their "commands". The Lamp-post had K26, a single-screw lighter driven by one big motor. K67 belonged to Rawlins, and possessed two little motors driving twin screws. For the first day they were employed in Kephalo harbour, and had a great argument that night as to which would prove the faster. The Lamp-post bet Rawlins a dinner at the club at Malta, or at the first civilized place the _Achates_ went to, that his one big engine would beat the two small ones.