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At Suvla Bay

Chapter 7 MEDITERRANEAN NIGHTS

Word Count: 1173    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

the main purport of any great adventure, whether it be a polar expedition, a new

of all precaution, we might be torpedoed at any moment and go down with all hands, or strike a mine and be blown up. We knew that victory or defeat were hanging in the balan

late on the saloon table; the sickly smell of steam and grease and oil from the engine-room; the machine gun fixed at the stern with its waterproof hood; the increasing brilliance of t

deck blistered our naked feet. In a few days we became sun-tanned. Each one of

was very little fresh water to drink. It was July.

out it-a mystery look; it looked like a "juju" country, with its sandy spit running like a

der of a Mediterranean sunset transform in schemes of peacock-blue and beetle-green, down and down, through emerald, pale go

of apparently commonplace souls who could really apprecia

nfess that I rather thought it had been exaggerated by authors, a

spray; calm lapis-lazuli blue; a sort of greeny, mummy-case blue; flashing, silk-shot blue, like a kingf

else. What it is I do not know, but it hangs in the water like a cloud. Once there was a sho

"light up," and then another, till the whole purple-velvet of the Med

anny, to see the same old stars we knew in England

t floating along beneath us

l and took a real interest in Nature, but one who had a sound, natural philosophy and a good idea of the re

ng. We knew we were part of the Mediterra

e put in

anned them stood upto row their oars-and rowed the right way forwards, instead of facing the wrong way, as we do

they cried

gar-e

gar-e

rt! T

us as the Irish Div

My father Iri

ng for pennies. They were wonderfully lithe and gra

r pennies and tins of bully-beef. He was fat and sun-

ef!" he shouted. "Me

retrieve these tins when t

the tobacco and cigarettes exceedingly ch

y we put to

own course, sailing under sealed orders, no one knew whither, n

the yellow sands? ... Mystery and adventure sailed with us-and each day the heat increased. The sun blazed from a br

imagine what desperate adventurers they had suddenly become. Some had never been out of Ireland, others had been as far as Portsmouth, and taken a return

re and there a white dome or a needle-minaret. And so we warped into harbour, through the boom and past the lightships,

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At Suvla Bay
At Suvla Bay
“John Gordon Hargrave (6 June 1894 – 21 November 1982), (woodcraft name 'White Fox'), was described in his obituary as an 'author, cartoonist, inventor, lexicographer, artist and psychic healer'. As Head Man of the Kibbo Kift, he was a prominent youth leader in Britain during the 1920s and 1930s. He was a Utopian thinker, a believer in both science and magic, and a figure-head for the Social Credit movement in British politics. "At Suvla Bay"; Being the notes and sketches of scenes, characters and adventures of the Dardanelles campaign. (Excerpt from Wikipedia)”
1 Chapter 1 IN WHICH MY KING AND COUNTRY NEED ME2 Chapter 2 A LONG WAY TO TIPPERARY3 Chapter 3 SNARED4 Chapter 4 CHARACTERS5 Chapter 5 I HEAR OF HAWK6 Chapter 6 ON THE MOVE7 Chapter 7 MEDITERRANEAN NIGHTS8 Chapter 8 THE CITY OF WONDERFUL COLOUR ALEXANDRIA9 Chapter 9 MAROONED ON LEMNOS ISLAND10 Chapter 10 THE NEW LANDING11 Chapter 11 THE KAPANJA SIRT12 Chapter 12 THE SNIPER-HUNT13 Chapter 13 THE ADVENTURE OF THE WHITE PACK-MULE14 Chapter 14 THE SNIPER OF THE PEAR-TREE GULLY15 Chapter 15 KANGAROO BEACH16 Chapter 16 THE ADVENTURE OF THE LOST SQUADS17 Chapter 17 "OH, TO BE IN ENGLAND!"18 Chapter 18 TWO MEN RETURN19 Chapter 19 THE RETREAT20 Chapter 20 "JHILL-O! JOHNNIE!"21 Chapter 21 SILVER BAY22 Chapter 22 DUG-OUT YARNS23 Chapter 23 THE WISDOM OF FATHER S--24 Chapter 24 THE SHARP-SHOOTERS25 Chapter 25 A SCOUT AT SUVLA BAY26 Chapter 26 THE BUSH-FIRES27 Chapter 27 THE DEPARTURE28 Chapter 28 LOOKING BACK