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[Page 12]
On the morning of Aug./16/15, I was put on water fatigue, and had to go a mile down to the well, near the seashore. There were three wells, called respectively, Turks well, French, and Australian well. The Turk had the best water in it, and was used by the English infantry; the French belonged to the Artillery, and the Australian, which was a tidal well close to the shore, and had with brackish water, belonged to us. Whilst waiting my turn to get water, the sea looked so inviting, and the day was so hot, that I made up my mind to have a bathe. I went to a place a little distance away, where there were few stones, and undressed and after undressing, dived in. The water was A1 and a number of chaps came in with me, and we were disporting ourselves, when suddenly the water ahead was whipped up with machine bullets, and the patter of a machine gun heard. I ran up the shore a bit and laid flat behind a hummock on the burning sand; and was kept staying there an hour, whilst the sun scorched my back. None of our party were hit, but a few men near the well were, and a number of tins riddled, which was aggravating as tins were very scarce. I got my eight gallons of water, and started back and when halfway, the chap in front of me was shot in the leg; and we eventually got getting to our destination without further mishap.