'Twenty-third of April,' said Ken. 'St. George's Day. Then I tell you
what, Dave, this is going to be a Sunday job.'

'You mean we'll be landed on Sunday?'

Ken nodded.

'That's about it,' he answered.




CHAPTER III

THE LANDING


'Hallo, what's up?' asked Dave Burney. 'We're off again.'

It was the night of Saturday the 24th of April. For the greater part of
the day the 'Charnwood' had been lying off Cape Helles, which is the
southernmost point of the Gallipoli Peninsula, while the people listened
to the thunder of guns, and watched the shrapnel bursting in white puffs
over the scrub-clad heights of the land.

Now, about midnight, she had got quietly under way, and was steaming
steadily in a nor'-westerly direction.

'What's up?' Dave repeated in a puzzled tone. 'This ain't the way to