Part 28

"You _are_ a silly ass," the Sub laughed.

Night fell. The breeze freshened steadily, and the two lighters alongside No. 4 Pier already banged up against the stone wall in a very uncomfortable manner.

Presently some of those remaining guns began rumbling over the ridge to the beach, and their teams went round to No. 3 Pier, or cantered back over the ridge, with a jangle of harness and thudding of hoofs, to fetch more.

When the first lighter had been loaded--with field-guns mostly--her crew hauled her off by the warps, the south-west breeze blowing freshly in their faces, and the little waves already splashing against her bows. A picket-boat took hold of her and handed her over to tug T1, which towed her away to sea.

The Orphan went with this first load, and found it a very different matter to-night. Though the breeze had not yet attained any great strength, a slight, lumpy sea and swell ran, outside, and when he at last reached the transport's huge side he had much difficulty in bringing the clumsy, heavily loaded lighter alongside and making her "fast". As it was, she bumped and rose and fell so much that it took nearly two hours to hoist out all those guns, and their "crews", laden with their heavy kits, and most of them sea-sick, could hardly climb the awkward Jacob's ladders dangling down the ship's dark side.

At last the lighter was cleared, and the tug, lurching out of the darkness, brought off the Gunner with another heavily laden lighter, left him alongside, and towed the Orphan back.

It was now nearly eleven o'clock; the breeze had become a strong wind, and meeting the current flowing out of the Dardanelles, raised an angry, steep sea. This immensely increased the difficulties of handling the motor-lighters, steamboats, and small tugs which simply swarmed off "W" beach and its piers. The clumsy motor-lighters were a danger to themselves and a terror to others, for they often refused to answer their helms when they left the lee of the sunken hulks and their bows first met the seas. It required much skilful seamanship for the steamboats to get hold of them in the pitchy darkness and turn them in the right way.

The Orphan found more guns waiting to be taken off, and he was about to commence to haul them on board his lighter when an order came that they were to be destroyed where they stood. Some Sappers arrived, and began fixing gun-cotton charges in them.

"They are the last of the guns to be sent off," said the officer in charge of them. "It does seem rough luck, doesn't it?"

"What was it like when you left?" asked the Orphan.

"Perfectly quiet; that was an hour ago," he told him.

The Orphan had nothing to do now but wait for further orders.

There was so much wind blowing inshore, towards the trenches, that though he strained his ears he could not hear the sound of the usual sniping, rifle-firing--in fact he could hear nothing from the direction of the trenches. Every now and then a momentary flash showed out behind the ridge on the Asiatic shore, and one of "Asiatic Annie's" shells came along; to-night they nearly all burst on the ridge close to Cape Helles lighthouse, and absolutely harmlessly. Occasionally a big monitor, half-way across the Straits, fired a 12-inch gun, and then everything round "W" beach, and the white tents above it, were lighted up momentarily--like the click of a camera shutter--and the Orphan would catch a sudden glimpse of motor-lighters and picket-boats, horses and men, on No. 3 Pier, perhaps long lines of troops coming down the road from the ridge, or a motor-lorry or motor-ambulance coming down to the beach. Then the blackness shut down again, except for the tiny flicker of the oil-lamp tied to a post at one corner of the pier.

The Orphan passed this time of waiting talking to the disappointed Gunner officer, who told him yarns of yesterday's fierce bombardment, and said how annoyed they had been when that battleship had wiped out their beautiful "target" of advancing Turks. "You'll hear, all right, if the Turks do get into our trenches to-night, after our chaps have left them," he said. "They are all mined, and most of the communication trenches too. There will be the most infernal noise."

Then out of the darkness came Captain Macfarlane and the Sub. The Orphan heard the Captain say: "All right, you can try and take those guns off. If you can't manage it, blow them up in the lighter."

Then he was sent round to No. 1 Pier to find out why two motor-lighters could not get off. He scrambled along the beach, past the end of No. 3 Pier, where a large number of gun- and limber-teams were waiting to embark in lighters--the horses waiting much more patiently and quietly than "humans" would have done--and then past a regiment which had just marched in from the trenches, most of the men lying down to relieve the weight of their heavy packs. The Orphan guessed correctly that most of these packs had a Turkish shell--or two--in them as "curios".

By the time he reached No. 1 Pier and found Mr. Armstrong, things were in a bad way. Two crowded motor-lighters lay there, lashed side by side, bumping uneasily, and the new platform over the pontoon and those barrels which filled the gap in it was swaying and creaking in a most unpleasant manner, waves thudding against it every moment.

"Curse--the--lighters--curse--everything!" swore the Lieutenant, pronouncing each syllable very deliberately, and without the faintest trace of excitement. "The--whole--show--will--go--in--a--minute-- barrels--pontoon--and--lighters--as--well. One-- of--the--con-founded--lighters--can't--start--her-- engines--and--the--other--one--has--smashed--hers."

"The Captain is sending a tug in to help," the Orphan shouted loudly--one had to shout because of the creaking and grinding of the pontoon and barrels, the noise of the wind and waves, and the bumping of the motor-lighters.

Then a tug did back gingerly in, passed a tow-rope aboard the lighters, and started to tow them out; but the rope "parted" as it took the strain, and the two crowded motor-lighters, catching an eddy of the strong wind and current, began drifting helplessly back again on to the damaged pier. In another half-minute they would have been hopelessly crushed against it; but, in the nick of time, the engine of one of them took it into its head to start, and just managed to move the two of them sufficiently to give the tug a chance of getting hold of them and towing them out to sea and safety.

"My--blooming--oath!" said Mr. Armstrong; "that--was--a--near--thing," and he sucked hard at his pipe.

A man, coming from the "Inner Hulk" over the straining pontoon, shouted to him: "A destroyer has just made 'fast' inside the 'Outer Hulk', sir."

"All--right; I'll--send--the--troops--along. Go--along--and--fetch--'em," he told the Orphan; "those--blokes--sitting--along--the--thundering--beach. Tell--'em--to--thundering--well--get--a --move--on--if--they--don't--want--to--be--left--behind. Con-found--this--pipe!" As the Orphan darted away he heard the rending sound of timber cracking and ropes "parting". He found some officers; they passed the "word" along; gave orders, and No. 1 Company of that battalion rose to their feet, picked up their rifles, and commenced to straggle down to the pier. As the Orphan and the first of them reached it, there came a loud crashing of smashing woodwork, loud shouts of "She's carried away, sir!" people came running back from where the pontoon had been; and Mr. Armstrong, walking slowly up to him, said: "The--thundering--thing's--carried --away--al-to-gether. It's--the--very--devil. Go--and--tell--the--N.-T.-O. See--if--you--can--find-- me--a--bit--of--wire--my--pipe's--choked."

Back went the Orphan to No. 4 Pier, but Captain Macfarlane was not there, nor at No. 3 Pier. Someone took him to the new office "dug-out" at the top of the beach; and there he found him, sitting at a table with an oil-lamp hanging above it, smoking a cigarette, tugging at his beard, and looking quaintly amused at a number of officers who were all asking him questions at the same time.

The Orphan wriggled his way through them, and burst out with: "The 'barrel pier' has gone, sir--washed away!"

"How very annoying, Mr. Orpen; very annoying indeed!" he said, smiling grimly. "We shall have to send the soldiers off from No. 3 Pier. Go down and tell the pier-master to embark them on the two 'stand-by' motor-lighters, and tell Mr. Armstrong to go down and help him."

The Orphan, noticing that the lamp was hanging by a piece of wire, thought that there might be some more somewhere about, looked round, and saw a piece lying under the table--just what Mr. Armstrong would like. He picked it up, and was just wriggling his way out again when the Captain wanted to know what he was doing.

"Mr. Armstrong's pipe is choked, sir, and I saw this bit of wire."

"Dear me! dear me!" smiled the Captain. "Misfortunes never come singly; do they, Mr. Open?"

"No, sir," said the Orphan, not knowing what else to say, and dashed off; found the Pier-master--another Naval Lieutenant--and gave his message. Then he went off with his piece of wire to clear Mr. Armstrong's pipe, and tell him to go down to No. 3 Pier.

"All--right--hold--this--thundering--megaphone-- whilst--I--clean--my--pipe."

At No. 3 Pier these latest arrived troops were already marching down into the "stand-by" motor-lighters, with a scuffling of tired feet, a clatter of rifle-butts, and the continual, monotonous, weary sound of "Form two deep! Form two deep!" as more infantry neared the shore end of the pier.

They were tired and dirty and trench-stained, and they cursed as they stumbled against each other in the dark, but they were very cheerful. As soon as one lighter had taken as many as she could hold, she shoved off, and grunted and snorted across to the "Outer Hulk".

"Nip over there; jump into that steamboat," the Pier-master called out. "Find out how many more men that destroyer can take."

The Orphan jumped down into a picket-boat lying alongside, and found Bubbles there.

As he took him across to the destroyer, the Orphan asked him what he had been doing all night.

"Generals, and their Staffs," Bubbles shouted happily. "You've no idea what a lot of trouble I've had with them. Some of them have actually started giving me orders. I've 'told 'em off' properly. They get quite tame then. I've taken some off from 'V' beach as well; everything's going on well down there. This sea running in is pretty beastly, isn't it?"

The Orphan climbed up the destroyer's side, and found her deck crammed with soldiers. He pushed his way up to the fore bridge, and heard her Captain yelling down to the men on the "Outer Hulk": "Get some more fenders along. Slack off that hawser." He was told that "If you don't 'get out of it' in a 'brace of shakes' you'll get a sea-passage, for nothing. I'm just going to shove off out of it. I can't take another soldier, and I'll stove my side in if I stay here much longer."

The Orphan went back to the steamboat, across to the pier, and reported that the destroyer was just shoving off.

"I can see that for myself," grumbled the Pier-master, as a flash from the monitor's gun suddenly showed the destroyer backing out.

This same flash also showed a heavily-laden lighter being warped off from No. 4 Pier, so the Orphan knew that the Sub had managed to start his journey with those last guns.

Then two teams of horses came jangling down to the pier unexpectedly, and the irritated Pier-master sent Bubbles to try and find a horse-boat or lighter alongside the "Inner Hulk". He came back with one; was nearly run down by another destroyer; got it alongside. Those twelve horses walked down into it as if they knew all about the business, and the very last horse to be taken off from "W" beach was towed away into the darkness.

Captain Macfarlane came down and told them that he had received a telephone message from Headquarters Office that the trenches had been finally evacuated, and the covering brigades withdrawn. "Everything IS absolutely quiet up there," he said.

The Orphan and Bubbles were greatly excited at that news. They tried to picture these last troops stealthily creeping out of their long line of trenches--extending from Ghurka Bluff and the Nullah, across the plain in front of Krithia, along the lower slopes of Achi Baba, and across and along the ravines past Sedd-el-Bahr--coming down the communication trenches, treading softly, and not making a sound, expecting all the time that Turkish patrols would give the alarm, and that the Turks would only be waiting for that moment to light the plain with star shells and rush down on them.

"We should hear the mines blow up, anyway," the Orphan said, as both snotties stood and listened, hearing nothing but the howling of the wind and the lapping of the waves, and the bumping of the picket-boat against the pier.

"It must be exciting for them," Bubbles said, bubbling with excitement.

After having secured several empty motor-lighters alongside, in readiness to embark the last troops, there was nothing to do.

"Have--a--sand-wich?" said Mr. Armstrong, producing a bulky package which Richards had prepared for him. They ate them sitting on the top of the picket-boat's cabin, as she bobbed and bumped against the side of the pier. Mr. Armstrong told them that one of the Generals coming down was a cousin of his named Bailey, and that if he did come down to this pier he wasn't to go off without seeing him. General Bailey had a brother who had been a Sub in charge of a gun-room when Mr. Armstrong was a midshipman in it. "A--thundering--good--chap," Mr. Armstrong said. "He--used--to--beat--me-- thundering--hard--have--an-other--sandwich."

Before the sandwiches were finished, the Orphan had to go up to the Captain's beach office. The Senior Military Landing Officer, rather upset about something, was talking nervously.

"Oh, Mr. Orpen, there are some men who can't be taken off from Gully Beach, round by the left flank, on account of the heavy sea," the Captain said calmly. "They are starting to march this way. Go down and tell the Pier-master and Mr. Armstrong to collect as many empty motor-lighters as possible. Come back here when you have given this message."

When he returned, the Captain gave him a signal to take up to the temporary "wireless" station, a little way along the top of the cliff.

"You had better hurry," he said, good-humouredly, looking at his watch, "if you really don't mind, or they'll be packed up before you get there."

The Orphan dashed off up the main road, and then along the branch path to where he knew the "wireless" station had been "put up".

"You're just in time," the Naval Lieutenant in charge of it said; "I was just going to give the order to 'pack up'."

"Here!" he shouted to the operator. "Call up those two destroyers; they'll be wanted to come alongside the 'Outer Hulk'."

"The N.T.O. says you can pack up when you get those signals through, sir," the Orphan said.

"All right; those destroyers will have the deuce of a time getting alongside if the wind goes on increasing as it's been doing for the last half-hour," the Lieu-tenant said. "What d'they want 'em for? anything gone wrong?"

The Orphan told him, and as he turned back he ran into some soldiers carrying heavy square tins.

"What are you doing?" he asked one of them.

"Going off to soak the stores with petrol," he said, and hurried on up to the Ordnance Depot.

Down the main road were now coming the first of the "covering parties"--some of the men who had actually stayed in the trenches till the last moment, many of them limping heavily, most of them talking cheerily. Some had maxim guns on their shoulders, others carried the tripod-stands, others maxim belt-boxes.

"Which way for the Margate steamer?" a Cockney voice called out.

"Turn to your right when you get on the beach," the Orphan shouted as he passed them; and the same voice called back: "Hi, Guv'nor! I've lost me return ticket. I ain't got no money, and I don't want to be left behind--I ain't 'ankering after a trip to Constantinople."

The tired men began to laugh.

The midshipman found Captain Macfarlane in his office, and told him that these men were coming down. He went out and stood at the top of the beach as they went past, their feet scrunching on the stones and shuffling through the sand as they marched down to No. 3 Pier, straight aboard the motor-lighters waiting for them.

A little officer came past, walking with a very tall one.

"Is that General Bailey?" called Captain Macfarlane.

"Hullo, Macfarlane! I knew your voice," he replied, stopping.

"Everything all right?" asked the Captain; and the Orphan remembered that this was Mr. Armstrong's cousin, and listened eagerly for what the General, who had just gone through this terribly anxious time, had to say.

"A pipeful of ship's tobacco, and I should be a happy man," was what he actually did say.

"I know where I can get some, sir," the Orphan interrupted. "Mr. Armstrong has plenty down at No. 3 Pier."

"There's a picket-boat waiting for you there, General. Mr. Orpen will show you the way. Everything all quiet when you left?"

"Everything. The Turks haven't stirred from their trenches; have hardly fired a shot all night. We've brought everyone back."

The Orphan piloted the General and his Staff Officer through the crowd of men round No. 3 Pier, and found Mr. Armstrong.

"General Bailey, sir; he wants a pipeful of ship's tobacco," he said, and left them there; hearing Mr. Armstrong's funny drawl: "You're--a--sort--of --cousin--of--mine--sir--your--brother--in--the-- Navy--used--to--beat--me--thundering--hard--a-- thundering--good--chap--take--the--whole-- blessed--pouchful."

"Bubbles!" the Orphan called, as he found the picket-boat, "I've brought you another General."

"Put him down below in the cabin with 'Kaiser Bill'," Bubbles sang out laughingly. "What 'Kaiser Bill' doesn't know about looking after Generals isn't worth knowing."

The wind by now had increased to almost the force of a gale, and a most unpleasant sea was swirling in through the gap in No. 1 Pier--where the pontoon had been--and round and between the ends of the sunken "hulks". In spite of this, those "covering parties" were safely taken off; the clumsy motor-lighters pushed and shoved out past the "Outer Hulk" by tugs and picket-boats, and then there was nothing much to do until those men marching back from the left flank and Gully Beach arrived. The Orphan was sent with some of the beach party to bring down the "gear" from the "wireless" station, and when he came back he found a white-painted hospital motor-lighter alongside No. 3 Pier. The Army doctor in charge had asked to be given an opportunity of trying to save the most valuable of the surgical stores still left in the Casualty Clearing-stations, and now was up there with nearly a hundred R.A.M.C. orderlies, bringing down cases of surgical instruments and expensive apparatus as fast as they could. They had already filled two big ambulance wagons, and man-handled them down on to the beach, and everyone was helping to unload them.

As a matter of fact, the last night of the evacuation had gone off so smoothly, in spite of the unfortunate change of weather, that people hardly realized that the original scheme had been drafted under the impression that the "covering parties" would probably have to fight their way back. The maxims in the picket-boats had been placed in them so that the picket-boats should try and cover the embarkation of those last few people who would rush down to the beach; the white-painted hospital lighter was there to, if possible, take off any wounded who could crawl or hobble to it.

In the complete absence of any interference by the Turks this fact had been almost forgotten.

The Sapper working-parties, who had been sprinkling petrol over the Ordnance and Commissariat stores, now began to return, and set to work with pick-axes to smash the engines of some motor-lorries which had to be left behind, and rip their tyres to shreds.

The Orphan having nothing whatever to do, and feeling very tired, wandered down to No. 3 Pier and found Bubbles and his picket-boat.

"I say, Bubbles, got anything to eat?"

Bubbles had. He produced a packet of sandwiches out of a haversack, and the crew brought the two of them a bowl of hot cocoa. They sat on the top of the picket-boat's cabin, and whilst they were munching away happily, they heard someone singing out: "'Ave you seen Mr. Orpen about?"

It was Plunky Bill's voice.

"Hello! What d'you want?" the Orphan called; "I'm here."

Plunky Bill came aboard. "Beg pardon, sir; I thought as 'ow you and t'other young gen'l'man could do with a couple of army macintoshes. I've just 'appened to come across two;" and he added confidentially: "If you'd like any more, I knows where I might be able to lay me 'ands on 'em."

"Where did you get them?" they asked; but Plunky Bill only told them that "he'd been looking round a bit". "I'll just stick 'em alongside 'Kaiser Bill', and then they'll be safe. You'll find a couple of them there 'lectric torches in the pockets."

"Whatever else have you got?" Bubbles laughed, seeing that he was bulged out with things.

"Nothin' much, sir; nothin' but a few pairs of them injy-rubber trench boots, sir. It do seem such a shame to leave 'em for the Turks, and they'll come in 'andy on board."

He put these boots down below under the forepeak, and went away again, towards the beach.

"That makes up for the macintosh spoilt by that shell the other day," Bubbles said. "They're jolly good things; you can wear them in plain clothes."

They did think of calling him back and asking, him to bring down some more for the rest of the gun-room, but a picket-boat came lurching alongside with the Sub in it, and in their eagerness to know whether he had managed to get off the last of those guns they forgot about macintoshes.

"They're half-way to Mudros by this time," the Sub shouted happily. "I'm off to tell the Skipper. What's the delay? What are we waiting for?"

They told him of the men from the left flank, and away he went.

At about three o'clock the first destroyer came alongside the "Outer Hulk" and made fast. This would have been a difficult job in daylight, on account of the heavy sea which was running, the strong wind, a very strong current swirling down from the Dardanelles, the very limited space for manoeuvring, and the dangerous proximity of the lee shore. In the pitchy darkness of the night it was ten times as difficult.

Thank goodness, just about this time, the first of those men began to tramp down the road from the ridge, footsore and weary after their long and anxious march--long march, that is, for men who had spent so many weeks continually in trenches. The Orphan helped to guide them down to No. 3 Pier, and they limped into the waiting motor-lighters, and were taken across to the destroyer.

By a quarter to four, not a single soldier remained on the Gallipoli Peninsula except a Sapper "demolition" party busy setting fire to the petrol-soaked stores, and waiting to ignite the fuses which should blow up the magazines containing all the ammunition and explosives which had to be abandoned.

By four o'clock these Sappers had come back to the beach and embarked aboard a motor-lighter. The whole circle of the ridge above "W" beach and the slopes of the gully now began to flicker with little flames, and in an incredibly short time the strong wind fanned them until the whole place was a mass of roaring, crackling fire.