Five Months at Anzac Part 5

There were very few horses on the Peninsula, and those few belonged to the Artillery. But at the time I speak of we had one attached to the New Zealand and Australian Headquarters, to be used by the despatch rider. Anzac, the Headquarters of General Birdwood, was about two and a half miles away; and, being a true Australian, the despatch-carrier declined to walk when he could ride, so he rode every day with despatches. Part of the journey had to be made across a position open to fire from Walker's Ridge. We used to watch for the man every day, and make bets whether he would be hit. Directly he entered the fire zone, he started as if he were riding in the Melbourne Cup, sitting low in the saddle, while the bullets kicked up dust all round him. One day the horse returned alone, and everyone thought the man had been hit at last; but in about an hour's time he walked in. The saddle had slipped, and he came off and rolled into a sap, whence he made his way to us on foot.

When going through the trenches it is not a disadvantage to be small of stature. It is not good form to put one's head over the sandbags; the Turks invariably objected, and even entered their protest against periscopes, which are very small in size. Numbers of observers were cut about the face and a few lost their eyes through the mirror at the top being smashed by a bullet. On one occasion I was in a trench which the men were making deeper. A rise in the bottom of it just enabled me, by standing on it, to peer through the loophole. On commending the man for leaving this lump, he replied, "That's a dead Turk, sir!"

ARTILLERY

Watching the Field Artillery firing is very interesting. I went one day with General Johnstone of the New Zealand Artillery to Major Standish's Battery, some distance out on the left, and the observing station was reached through a long sap. It was quite close to the Turk's trenches, close enough to see the men's faces. All directions were given by telephone, and an observer placed on another hill gave the result of the shot--whether under, over, or to the right or left.

Errors were corrected and the order to fire again given, the target meanwhile being quite out of sight of the battery commander.

It was amusing to hear the heated arguments between the Artillery and Infantry, in which the latter frequently and vehemently a.s.severated that they "could have taken the sanguinary place only our own Artillery fired on them." They invariably supported these arguments by the production of pieces of sh.e.l.l which had "blanky near put their Australian adjective lights out." Of course the denials of the Artillery under these accusations were very emphatic; but the production of the sh.e.l.l-fragments was awkward evidence, and it was hard to prove an alibi.

The advent of the hospital ship _Maheno_ resulted in a pleasant addition to our dietary, as the officers sent ash.o.r.e some b.u.t.ter, fresh bread and a case of apples. The b.u.t.ter was the first I had tasted for four and a half months. The _Maheno_ belonged to the Union Company, and had been fitted up as a hospital ship under the command of Colonel Collins. He was the essence of hospitality, and a meal on board there was a dream.

While we were away along the beach for a swim one afternoon, the Turks began sh.e.l.ling our quarters. It had not happened previously, and everyone thought we were out of range. The firing lasted for about an hour and a half. I fully expected that the whole place would be smashed. On the contrary, beyond a few mules and three men hit, nothing had happened, and there was little in the ground to show the effects of the firing. (I noticed the same with regard to the firing of the naval guns. They appeared to lift tons of earth, but when one traversed the position later very little alteration could be detected.) The Turks, however started at night again, and one shot almost buried me in my dug-out.

The number of transports that came in and out of Anzac while we were there was marvellous, and a great tribute to the British Navy. There is no question as to who is Mistress of the Sea. Occasionally we heard of one being torpedoed, but considering the number constantly going to and fro those lost were hardly noticeable. The _Southland_ was torpedoed while we were in Gallipoli, and Major Millard (who was on board) told me that there was not the slightest confusion, and only one life was lost.

TURKS AS FIGHTERS

One cannot conclude these reminiscences without paying a tribute to Abdul as a fighting man. All I know about him is in his favour. We have heard all about his atrocities and his perfidy and unspeakablenesses, but the men we met fought fairly and squarely; and as for atrocities it is always well to hear the other side of the question. At the beginning of the campaign it was commonly reported that the Turks mutilated our wounded. Now I believe that to be an unmitigated lie, probably given a start by men who had never set foot in the Peninsula--or who, if they did, had taken an early opportunity of departure. We were in a position to know whether any mutilation had occurred, and I certainly saw none. I believe that similar reports were existent among the Turks regarding us, and I formed that opinion from the att.i.tude and behaviour of one of the prisoners when I went to dress his wound. He uttered most piteous cries and his conduct led me to believe that he thought he was to be illtreated. I have mentioned before the cla.s.s to which most of the prisoners were. They were always most grateful for any kindness shown them.

As to their sense of fair play, when the _Triumph_ was sunk, they never fired on her--though I understand it would have been quite allowable directly the men set foot on another warship. Again, about a fortnight after the landing at Anzac, we tried to land a force at Gaba Tepe, but had to retire and leave our wounded. The Turks signalled us to bring them off, and then they never fired or abused the white flag.

The third instance occurred on our left, when we made the advance in August. Our Ambulance was under a hill, and a howitzer battery took up a position just in front. The Turk _sent word_ that either the Ambulance or the battery would have to move, otherwise they would be forced to fire on the Ambulance.

The sh.e.l.ls we got on the beach could not be attributed to any disregard of the Red Cross, for they could not see the flag, and moreover the Ordnance was next to us, a thing utterly out of order, but unavoidable under the circ.u.mstances.

My career on the Peninsula came to a close at the end of September, when I fell ill and was put on the hospital ship. The same evening a very willing attack was put up by the Turk. One had a good and most interesting view, as one was in perfect safety. The bursting sh.e.l.ls in the darkness were very picturesque.

Prior to going off we had often discussed the pleasure of getting between sheets and into a decent bed--how one would curl up and enjoy it. But my first night under those conditions was spent in tossing about, without a wink of sleep. It was too quiet. Being accustomed to be lulled to sleep by the noise of six-inch guns from a destroyer going over my dug-out, I could now hear a pin drop, and it was far too quiet. We found we were to be sent to England. Malta was no place in which to get rid of Mediterranean fever. The treatment the people of England give the Australians is handsome in the extreme. They cannot do enough to make them comfortable. Country houses are thrown open to the invalided men, perfect strangers though they are, and all are welcome.

Together with Major Courtenay (with whom I came over) I was taken to Lockleys, in Hertfordshire. Sir Evelyn and Lady de La Rue had a standing invitation at Horseferry Road, the Australian Military Headquarters, for six officers. We happened to be among the lucky ones to be included, and the kindness I received from our host and hostess will be remembered during the remainder of my life.

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