Typescript copy of diary entries of Percy Wellesley Chapman, 1 July 1915 to 30 June 1916 - Part 2

Just after we left Freemantle I mentioned about Edwards
kicking up a bit of a row, we received news by wireless today
that he has been sentenced to 12 months' hard labour. The
wire came through two or three days ago I believe, but Captain
Stucky kept the news till things had quieted down I
suppose. We have not passed a ship since we left Freemantle,
the course we are following is not the usual one,
I suppose that is the reason. The sergeant's slushy has
just passed with cheese and biscuits and the bugle has just
sounded "Come to the cook-house door, boys, come to the
cook-house door" so it's biscuits now and then bed.
Monday 19.7.15.
Well, well, so ends another lazy day.
And so there ebbs another lazy day
Unto its close. And in her gentle way
Sweet sleep descends bathing with misty thought
The minds of those who through the day have wrought.
Sweet Dian in her bright and silvery car
Glides gently o'er the ever restless deep
Scattering her glistening arrows near and far
Piercing the waves that ever rise and leap.
We have been in the tropics a couple of days now but we did
not come across any menagerie lions running round the earth.
When crossing the tropics the only thing of interest was a
flying fish which came on deck.
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Wednesday 21.7.15.
I am comfortably seated forehead on one of those large
iron things that the ropes are fastened to when the ship is
along-side a wharf, my knowledge of ships is still very
meagre. I did not write up my diary yesterday and it was
rather an exciting day too. First of all a ship called
the Aeneas passed us, she is a passenger boat twin screw and
a bit bigger than our boat, she had on board about 1700
Queenslanders two of whom had died. I dont wonder fellows
pegging out on troop ships if they get anything wrong with
them, especially in the tropics. The flying fish were rather
plentiful yesterday, they look like grasshoppers to me.
Smithy and Jansey are near me now pointing them out to each
other. Measles have started on board, there are about ten
cases all told, Lieutenant Smith, the officer commanding the
6th, has them also. I don't think it troubles his troop much
though. We spend the day doing Semaphore drill mostly. I
have also learned the Morse code just to pass the time along,
that is the way to read telegrams by the dots and dashes,
of course it can be used with lamps too, a short flash represents
a dot and a long one a dash. When we are not doing
Semaphone the veterinary fellows give us lectures on the
horse or one of the sergeants will lecture on pitching a
camp or something of that sort, but the best fun of all is
the medicine ball, it isn’t a pill you know but looks like a
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football the only difference being that it is stuffed with
hair, we pass this to each other or throw it trying to
take the next chap off his guard and when we have got up a
sweat we have a shower. I mustn't forget about the concert
last night, it was our first and although the talent
was not of the highest still it passed away the evening.
The principal item on the programme was the ship's band,
this consisted of about a dozen fellows all dressed in the
most outlandish costumes they could get. Fife, one of the
6th of the Ist, was band-master, he directed the movements
through a megaphone, and was arrayed in Captain Stucky's
sword a long butcher's coat covered with the tops of lemonade
bottles for medals. The rest of the band had any
instrument they could get, pokers, tubs, bones, etc., some
of the items rendered by the songsters would not pass muster
with the ladies, but troopers have a language of their own.
Thursday 22.7.15
In four more days I believe we will be passing the line.
Today the Lascars have been very busy making a large tank out of
tarpaulins for the christening of those who have not been
across the line before, there ought to be some fun next
Monday. Nothing of importance has happened today just
semaphore drill and the medicine ball. There is a canteen
on board where most necessaries can be obtained, such as
soft drinks, biscuits, handkerchiefs, etc., Ted is not
very well today I am not anxious about him though as it is
only a headache he has got and no sign of measles, but if
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he got measles I would not like it. Conditions on board
are very cramped and all the spare space is occupied with
horse-boxes so there is not much room for exercise, the
only exercise is the medicine ball and boxing. Before we
left the Australian coast we all had to sleep below in
hammocks, and since we had to have our meals where we slept
it was not very nice, especially as there were only two
salt-water showers where the fellows could get a bath and
they do not always run. Now, we sleep on deck slinging our
hammocks in the empty horse-boxes. Every day now there is
an inspection for measles, we all have to strip and the
Doctor passes judgment; two chaps from our table have them
Capp and Horder, they are not very bad though, Capp keeps to
his bunk but Horder sits reading or looking miserable in
one of the horse-boxes all day.
Friday 23.7.15.
I have come back to my diary more because I like the
feel of it than because I have any news to write about.
I have been up in the bows spouting to some of the fellows.
Whenever I am going on my pet subjects I always wish afterwards
that I had not done so. I would not mind if the
audience were well up in the subject but when a fellow
has all the say it feels a bit like bragging.
Saturday 24.7.15.
I am lying idly dreaming, in my hammock forward swung
Listening to the swish of waters, to the call of
Neptune's daughters,
Murmuring tales of distant shipwreck where those cruel
sirens sung.
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Stretched around me on the hatchway lie the troops in
deshabille
Some are smoking,some are reading,some at full length
all unheeding
Rest in slumber quiet and still.
Gradually the place around me taps imagination's stream
And in gentle thought I wonder, to that ancient poet
yonder
Who created the sireens?
What voice is it calls the traveller to those fateful
wave-swept rocks
And in aerial fashion driving, though against it he is
striving
To those doors whereon death knocks.
'Tis the spirit of adventure calling to his stranger
self
Beckoning him to deeds of daring,bidding him to give
up sharing
In the hunt for ease and pelf.
26.7.15.
To-day is Monday, rather an eventful one for the
majority of those on board, as this morning about six
o'clock we crossed the line. The large canvas tank the
niggers were making is hanging before me now as I write,
filled with water. We were roused out of bed by reveille
sounding at a quarter to six this morning, and all those
sleeping forehead in the horse-boxes were ordered to take
their hammocks down and put them in the hammock bin behind
below. As the horse-box I occupy is the most forward on
deck I had to comply with this order. Generally the boxes
forehead are the cleanest and quietest on board, but just
at present the bally niggers are knocking the point off
the iron deck with little hammers, so peace has flown. But
to continue the dipping, a number of fellows were chosen
to do the dipping. Fife represented Father Neptune, and
one of the signallers dressed as his wedded wife. I took
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snaps of them and if they turn out all right I'll send
them home. Neptune, of course, had his crown on and carried
a trident, his beard was made of rope frayed at the end,
his wife was dressed in a kimono, the only ladies' attire
on board I suppose. The rest was made by one of the ship's
officers I believe. I took a snap of her ladyship which
may not look altogether proper. Neptune's chief attendant
was a barber adorned in a canvas suit and hat, his chief
instrument was a razor about three feet long made by the
ship's carpenter. There were also various attendants who
roped up those who had to be dipped and ducked them in the
trough. We were not allowed for'ad until after the procession
round the deck. Neptune then took up his seat upon
the throne accompanied by his wife, and a herald called
out the names of those who had to make his acquaintance.
Captain Stucky was the first to be shoved. Upon being led
before the throne for judgment Neptune rose and said "Oh
tis is one of the men who fined one of my men twenty
shillings so that he could not buy Sarto and biscuits; off
with him to the barber's chair." There the Captain had
flour and water rubbed all over his face, after which he
was put through the trough. The doctor followed next and
went through the same treatment. Lieutenant Smith was
then called upon but the inoculation had upset him somewhat
so he was left alone. All the non-coms. were done next
with the flour and water, and after their turn came ours,
but with us the flour and water was put aside, and in its
place they used a mixture of paste, red ochre and various
other sundries. The first two or three who sat answered
the barber's questions, whereupon their mouths were filled
with this beautiful mixture but the remainder kept their
mouths shut. Passing through the trough was very like
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the way sheep are driven through a dip. Some one stood
on top with a mop and as they collared our legs he shoved
our legs heads under. The trough was about twenty feet
long by six wide and had three to four feet of water in
it. We have passed now into the region of the monsoons,
the white horses are showing their silvery manes and every
now and then there'll be a swish and salt spray will flood
the deck; tomorrow I believe will be rough, but in two or
three more days we'll be at Aden, and in about seven or
eight we should be landing at Alexandria. Salway has his
bunk next mine now and the other day he was in doubt as to
what he should say in his letter. News on board is not
very plentiful. I suggested, that if it was a young lady
he wished to write to I would have much pleasure in writing
it for him. He acquiesced with pleasure to my suggestion
and after a moment's thought said the lady's name was
Flossy. This is what I wrote:
To Flossy.
Oh Flossy dearest, as I sit upon my hammock here -
Smoking in dreamy indolence thinking of you, my dear.
Sweet visions of your pretty face flash through my idle
mind
Kindling anew that passion old of which you seemed so
blind.
Sweet Phoebe in her silvery ear glides o'er the troubled
deep
Scattering her glistening arrows around me as I sleep,
Awakening blissful visions when on the golden sands
We walked in loving idleness holding each other's
hands.
Acolus gently whispers your name upon his way
'Oh Flossy, dearest Flossy', his murmurs seem to say -
And Neptune spurning his dolphins across the raging main
Echoes anew the fancied strain again and yet again -
Till gentle sleep removes her finger from my fast closed
eyes
Leaving these pretty visions to vanish in the skies.
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Sally refused my little attempt, said it was too dreary
28.7.15.
I have just come, from forehead looking at the whirlpools
surging round the bows; we were drifting in the
mighty deep while the wind whistled and moaned through the rigging
This is the third time something has gone wrong with the
engine. The first was just off Melbourne, the next just
rounding the Leeuwin, and this is the third, off the African
coast about eight hours from Cape Guadafui. We have all
been ordered to sleep below to-night as the horse boxes
might go overboard - should the sea become rough it would
be beautifully stuffy down there. The third engineer on
board this boat is a bally German. I don't like him. We
are having sports on board in a couple of days, and as there
is a sports meeting in a few minutes and I have been put
on the committee I will not write any more to-night.
31.7.15.
I don't think I can write much to-night, the perspiration
has a habit of oozing out of one and trickling down
one's forehead and into one's eyes. We are in the Red Sea.
October 19th.
I'm sitting in the corner of a railway carriage
with my eyes on the opposite seat. Around me are kits
rifles, bandoliers, distributed higgledy piggledy everywhere.
The reason is that on this eventful day we are off to the
Front - Gallipoli. Most of the fellows going have not been
there before and are all anxious for their first experience.
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I don't believe there are any cold feet among the lot.
"Good-bye, Good-bye” - that is about all I can hear at
present - "Good luck to you, give'em one for me", etc.
Friday 22nd.
It is rather a novel experience to be upon an
eighteen-thousand ton vessel steaming along in a zig-zag course
in order to avert submarine attacks, but that is what we
are experiencing at present. The "Franconia" which we are
upon is the biggest vessel I have ever had any experience
with. We are very comfortable on board, nearly three thousand
all told. Ted, Jock Holland, Blackwell and myself
have a cabin to ourselves. The only inconvenience is that
the portholes are all closed at night in order that no light
may be shown, in the day that should a torpedo get us, the
water won't be able to get in so freely. We are all issued
with lifebelts and have to wear them everywhere we go, they
are a bit of a nuisance, but at present I am using mine as
a seat. We are steering rather a peculiar course at present,
past numbers of little islands. The Ionian Islands I suppose
they are, and this must be the Ionian Sea. This is how this
sea got its name. Many, many years ago when Jupiter and all
his lesser deities held their sway Io was a very beautiful
nymph, the daughter of a river-god called  Well,
you know what an old flirt Jupiter was. Io was one of his
many lady-loves and one day while they were spooning on the
bank of a river hidden from Juno's jealous eye by a cloud,
that suspicious lady suddenly dissolved the cloud so that
Jupiter had only time to change Io into a heifer, but the
trick would not work. Juno suspected something and asked
for the heifer as a present, a gift which under the circumstances
Jupiter could not refuse. Juno then gave this
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heifer to the care of Argus, whose eyes you know never all
close at once, but Mercury, instructed by Jupiter, told him
such long monotonous stories that at last he dozed off
allowing Io to escape. She fled over land and sea, being
ever pursued by a huge gad-fly sent by Juno to torment her.
She crossed the Ionian Sea which takes its name from her,
reached the Bosphorus Straits which she swam. Bos is the
Latin for ox, and Bosphorus means the ox ford, or the ford
which the ox Io swam; at last she reached Egypt where she
recovered her normal shape again. And here we are ploughing
our way between these many Isles which are now capped by
storm-clouds. Fleecy mists are drifting in the valleys, but
the sea is calm, there is hardly a ripple on it, the only
movement felt on board is the tremor from the engines and that
is scarcely noticeable. I wonder how many vessels have passed
this way in days gone by. Perhaps Ulysses on his way from
Troy met some of his fairy-folk upon these Islands, or Jason
in his search for the golden fleece anchored upon their shores.
At present upon every deck are soldiers; some are sleeping,
some playing cards, others like myself writing up their
diaries. No one seems very concerned about submarines, in
fact it is very hard to realise there is any danger, and the
six-inch gun which pokes it nose over the stern gives a
feeling of security - blue jackets are always marching up and
down with glasses in hand.
October 28th.
At last we have arrived at our destination. We
landed here the night before last about nine o'clock. It
doesn't even yet feel like real warfare, great huge ridges
border the coast line, the sides of these are occupied by
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