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Describing his new
"rest"-quarters to a friend in Australia, he wrote : "Why, if it weren't for the shrapnel and the long distance shells and occasional snipers you wouldn't know there was a war on."
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At Anzac |
The strong point of the Australasian soldier, apart from his courage, which we may take for granted, is his
initiative, the quality which brought him so triumphantly through the ordeal of the
25th April. It was against his will that he gave up the tactics which on
this occasion had given him victory and fame. Only under the pressure of necessity did he dig himself into his trenches. But once he
had done this, he adapted himself to the new conditions, and became an efficient and steady trench fighter.
The chief accusation levelled against the Anzacs by experienced onlookers was that
during their first charges they showed complete disdain of cover. But
they soon added wariness to their other military virtues, and learned that it was rather foolish than brave to expose oneself needlessly to the delicate attentions of a dead shot at
100 yards distance.
It has been pointed out that the whole area of the beach, besides being continually exposed to shrapnel fire, was regularly bombarded from opposite directions, by a gun known as "the Anafarta" gun and the still more famous "Beachy Bill." The latter was really a whole Battery of guns
snugly located in an olive grove at Kilid Bahr. Again and again our warships and artillery claimed to have silenced
"Beachy," but again and again, when our worst had been wrought upon him, he
saluted us with his morning hymn.
There was often heard at Anzac the cry, "Beachy's coming," frequently followed by the too familiar order : "Stretcher-bearers wanted."
When "Beachy Bill" and his progeny dropped shells near the dugouts, there was generally a scuttle for safety. The Australians learned to time the explosions, and after one had occurred, they would come out of the dugouts and employ themselves till the next one was due. The incautious sometimes put their heads out too soon after the shell had exploded, and some of these fella victim to the German
gunners who often fired shrapnel a few seconds after the shell had fallen in hope
of securing victims. On an average, "Beachy" is said to have accounted
for 12 men a day.
But it was in the front trenches that the resource and bushmanship of the Australian was most brilliant and valuable. It is calculated that there
were over 300 miles of saps and trenches upon the narrow area of Anzac Cove. The average cutting was about 7 feet in depth and was often wide
enough for two men to walk abreast. During the actual fighting the trenches, of course, had to be dug quickly and were often merely a few
inches deep. Life in the trenches, even at the quietest moment of the Anzac
occupation, was full at every minute of excitement, exultation, and the
danger of sudden death.
One marksman describes the shooting at the loop
holes in the Turkish trenches 400 yards away. He started putting bullets
into the fire holes at this distance. "Whenever I missed," he continues,
"they had the audacity to wave a shovel. They have an uncomfortable way of putting their bullets into our sniping holes, too." The snipers
provided a very serious problem, and it was through one of them, as has been seen, that Australia's greatest soldier met his end.
They would come right into our lines and dig themselves in with a week's
provisions, concealing themselves with the greatest cunning in every possible hole or crevice, and in several cases covering themselves with foliage so as to be
indistinguishable from the surrounding cover.
In one case an Australian soldier, after
searching vainly for a Turkish sniper's location, saw to his astonishment a thick shrub which had been lying some way ahead deliberately rise from its place
and move ten or fifteen yards. The soldier, taking no chances, fired into the thick of it. It lay still, and no more sniping came from that quarter that day. Closer investigation disclosed the cause of the trouble. "A Turk had been dressed in green clothes and was now found lying dead beneath
an olive sapling." (Melbourne
"Argus" November 8th 1915.)
This habit of protective mimicry was frequent among the Turkish snipers. Some men not only wore green clothes, but painted their faces green so as to be indistinguishable from the leaves of the trees in which they
hid. Sometimes they would fire till our men got within five yards, when they would ask for quarter. At other times, they would play what one
correspondent calls the stretcher game. Several would come down with a stretcher, and the leader would shout "Make way for a stretcher party."
The men detected the fraud mainly through the speaker's quite definitely un-Australian accent. "We shot them down," says the writer, "and found we had bagged a dozen with a machine gun and three boxes of
ammunition." A favorite trick of the Turkish snipers was to remain behind in concealment after a Turkish charge, and from their point of vantage shoot
our men in the back. Certain parts of Gallipoli, notably Snipers' Gully, and Shrapnel gully, became particularly dangerous through their efforts.
The Anzacs organised hunts by night for these pests, and thus exterminated several nests of them, but they required most careful attention during the daylight, and this was provided for by a skilful organisation of counter
snipers.
A New Zealand officer of a sporting turn of mind took the matter in hand and organised a service of crack shots whose sole business it was to
protect the most dangerous routes against the Turkish snipers' fire. He picked his men carefully and stationed them at every conceivable point of vantage. They made a study of every corner and crevice which could
possibly give refuge to the enemy, and if any sniping took place, the author of it did not live long, for
there would be some twenty rifles on the watch for him.
By these means some valleys and ridges which had previously been amongst the most deadly became perfectly safe, and our men could walk along them as securely as if they were in a trench. There was keen competition for the championship at this game, the record probably being
held by Private W. E. Sing, a Queenslander of the 2nd Light Horse Brigade, who during fifteen weeks accounted for a century of Turks.
Here, too, must be mentioned the machine gun service and the remarkable achievement of Captain J. Wallingford, who left New Zealand as Assistant Adjutant to the Auckland Infantry Battalion. Early in the campaign he was given command of the New Zealand
Machine Gun Section. On April 27th he performed a most gallant feat, for which
he was decorated. On this date the Turks had put tremendous pressure upon our line at Walker's Ridge.
Messages came down to the effect that all officers were shot, and that there
were no reinforcements. Matters looked very serious, and General Walker sent Captain Wallingford up to see if any relief could be
offered.
Creeping along the ridge he found
about 100 men, Australians and New Zealanders, lying on the ground, exposed to the Turkish fire.
He led them forward, and came across one of his own guns with the gunners dead or
wounded, and a heroic boy trying vainly to get the gun into action. He adjusted the gun just as the Turks were coming out of the trenches across the ravine, and he let them have it repeatedly each time they charged, completely stopping their attack.
Five weeks later the position was recaptured by the New Zealand troops. Captain Wallingford's achievement saved the whole of the Anzac's left flank from being broken. He was a superb marksman. When the
New Zealand Infantry were transferred to Achi Baba, he remained behind to supervise the
Machine Gun service. At one time he had thirty-two guns under his control, and he played a prominent part in the attack on Rill
60, after which he was invalided to New Zealand.
It is impossible here to reproduce a hundredth part of the heroic deeds and romantic episodes which were the common staple of life upon Gallipoli.
One of the most remarkable incidents was that narrated in a letter by Colonel
Pope, describing the seizure of two Australian officers by the Turks at Dead
Man's Ridge, a site between Quinn's Post and Pope's Hill. Colonel Pope relates that
he was told on one occasion that some Indians wanted to see him.
He went out and met two of his officers
talking with six swarthy soldiers, all bearing rifles and fixed bayonets. As soon as the Colonel set eyes on
them, he remarked that they looked like Turks. One of the officers replied
that they were Gurkhas, and said they wanted Colonel Pope to go with them
and see their commanding officer. But the Colonel knew them for what
they were. Meanwhile, they were gathering round him, and one of the most ferocious-looking of them seized his wrist. "I had purposely kept
pretty close to the edge of the gully," he said, "and I called out 'these
beggars are Turks,' and pulled out as quickly as I could, pulling the Turk
after me and Jumping over the edge of the gully. The Turk let go and I fell down forty feet." The Turks got away with the Adjutant, Captain
MacDonald, and with Lieutenant Elston. The Colonel considered that this daring plot was probably instigated by the Germans.
As the summer wore on the beat became intense, and every day was a blaze of sunshine, hardly mitigated by a cloud. The Australians fared
better, through being accustomed to the heat of their native climate, than the British at Helles, who, as certain of them have told us, found the fierce sunlight trying and terrible. The average Anzac used to dress in a loose shirt and a pair of khaki drill shorts, such as the Gurkhas use, with the knees uncovered; very frequently he wore the shorts minus the shirt: Many men who could not get the shorts ready-made, amputated the legs of trousers.
Officers dressed like men, and it was often very difficult to distinguish a general from a private. Both in the trenches and the dugouts, the Anzacs suffered great irritation from flies, which swarmed in such numbers that they covered thickly the walls and floor of the shelters.
The men carried on a minor warfare against these pests, and the trenches in places were "placarded with health notices like a suburban town hall," such as "Don't let the flies kill you. You kill them." Even during normal conditions, as far as anything upon Anzac could be called normal, the men found it difficult to get enough drinking water. There were few wells or springs in the Cove.
Most of the water had to be brought by transports. For the greater period of their time the men were restricted to a ration of about a pint and a half a
day which, considering the intense heat in which they had to work, was very short commons.
Life would have been impossible upon the Peninsula, even at times free from heavy fighting, unless the men had been possessed of indomitable spirit, and had had that feeling of brotherhood and trust in their officers which makes the spirit of a great army. The Anzacs have been said to have lacked discipline, but this only means that their discipline was not the same as that of the British regular. They did not take their officers on trust to the same extent, nor did
they believe, as does the British Tommy, in the infallibility and almost divine grace of the subaltern
simply because he happens to be a subaltern. Nor was there the exemplary rigidity and formality which prevails between officers and men in the British ranks.
There is a tale of an officer who, immediately before a review by a British general, said to his men, "Try and look as smart as possible, and, for Heaven's sake, don't call me Alf." But it would be a profound mistake to regard the easiness of intercourse prevailing between Australian officers and men as a sign of any real laxity or weakness. It is quite certain that without the essentials of discipline the Anzac troops never could have done what they did, and, as a matter of fact, once their officers had gained their trust and affection they would follow them devotedly to the death.
The relationship between the senior officers and the men was splendid. It was not only the company commanders who were in close touch with the troops. The battalion chiefs and Brigadiers greeted their soldiers familiarly by name as a father greets his children. There was the warmest and fullest sympathy and understanding
among all ranks, and each Brigade seemed a big family. A great deal of nonsense has been talked about their laxity of discipline by men who have not known the Anzacs or their record. In this connection it
may be worth while to quote the verdict of an English officer who had fought with them and come to love them like brothers.
"It is said that the Australian soldier is often lacking in discipline. It all depends what you call discipline. Let me give you an example. When we landed, the men were ordered to advance with fixed bayonets and do the work with cold steel. They were not to Ere unless it was absolutely necessary. Days afterwards we found some of our men out in the bad country
beyond Quinn's Post, dead, with their rifles beside them. The bayonets were fixed and not a round of shot fired. They had obeyed orders until the
last. They must have had innumerable temptations to loose off their rifles, but they died like soldiers, with red bayonets and clean barrels. I call that discipline."
As to their bravery there is countless testimony, coming both from friend and foe. All expert observers have noticed that the Australian soldier represents a type quite
distinct from other soldiers, and sets about his work after a totally different fashion. The same generosity which distinguished the
Australians in their relations, before battle with the British, French, and Indians and made them lavish with their rations and cigarettes, took shape when danger came in an utter recklessness of life, and even in the desire to fling life away rather than surrender an inch of ground gained.
A British officer who visited the thin line at Quinn's Post declared the Australian soldier to be the greatest fighter in the world. Mr. Ashmead Bartlett, who had excellent opportunities of
judging our men's quality, writes
"I do not think I ever saw so many determined faces in my life. They seem to be born fighters. Whoever thought that Great Britain had such Colonials ? If the war has done nothing else before, it has discovered these giants whom we did not know. Their minds are as big as their bodies. The men joined upon a wave of enthusiasm. They seemed to realise what they had to do from the first."
The spirit in which the Anzacs went about their work is well portrayed
by Mr. John Masefield in his book, "Gallipoli." He first described the miracle, or what seems such,
by which an Army of 30,000 men and 1,000 tons of shells, cartridges, and
food were smuggled on to Anzac, and concealed there during the nights of the
3rd, 4th and 5th August without the Turks ever suspecting their
existence.
"For three whole nights," he
continues, "nearly all the Australians at Anzac gave up most of their sleep.
They began the work by digging a cover. They took a personal pride and pleasure in playing the game of cache-cache to the end. It is difficult to
praise a feat of this kind, and still more difficult to make people understand
what the work meant. Those smiling and glorious young giants thought little of it. They loved their chiefs and they liked the fun, and when
praised for it looked away with a grin."
Physically, as well as spiritually, the men were splendid. The heat had bronzed and tanned them, and exposure to wind and weather hardened them, and they were trained to the finest possible pitch. Many of them were men of great physical beauty, and of
commanding stature, and every one of them was sinewy and hard as nails. It has been remarked that even the picked troops of the Prussian Guards cannot compare with the Australians in magnificence of physique, for many of them were gross and fleshy, whereas the average Australian had not an ounce of spare flesh to spoil the
symmetry of his frame.
Mr. John Masefield writes thus of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps:
"They were almost all men who had enlisted since the
declaration of war, and had had not more than six months' active training. They
were, however, the finest body of young men ever brought together in modern times. For physical beauty and nobility of bearing they surpassed any men I have ever seen. They walked and looked like the kings in old poems, and reminded me of the line in
Shakespeare, 'baited like eagles having lately bathed.' "
The Australians were regarded by the doctors as the best patients of all, though the Gurkhas were said to run them close. When the wounded came staggering down or were borne on stretchers from the firing line, there was not one of them who did not make a show of being brave, and there were many who laughed and cheered and sang. This heroism was infectious, and the well known Gallipoli Bill, other-wise Private A. R. McPherson, remarks that "wounded men who would ordinarily raise Cain
over a toothache now suffer indescribable pain with cheerfulness." Such results as these would have been impossible without the strong feeling of brotherhood which ran through the whole Australasian Army.
One could quote instances of their heroism almost to infinity. Again and again was repeated the action of the "man named Laurence," who crossed a fire-swept field merely to get some wounded men a drink. There occurred incidents, too, like that quoted by the brilliant Australian War
Correspondent, 'Mr. Keith 'Murdoch, of the bomb-thrower in one section who carried scores of these combustible missiles through the heaviest fire.
He reached a spot near the Turks' advanced trenches where he could bomb the
enemy at close quarters. Lighting a cigarette he lit his bombs from this and threw six before he was shot. "Six bombs passed from bag to cigarette, from cigarette to the Turks, and all agreed that even to throw six bombs before the Turks could kill him was a great effort."
On another occasion, a group of four men were working on a mine shaft when men from another regiment came along to relieve them. These four refused to go with their Battalion until they had finished their job, as they wished it to be known as "their own and no one else's." It was in the same
spirit that the 16th Regiment of the 3rd Australian Infantry begged to remain in the trenches when they were ordered to be relieved, and practically did five weeks on end there.
The way in which they faced death may be gathered from the letter of a soldier in the 8th battery of the Australian Field Artillery. This letter indicates the spirit in which our men at the front face the
supreme ordeal of the battlefield :-
"This is how the men in this Battery die. When the smoke from the bursting shell had cleared away, Wallis ran out to see the damage. He found Mick Taylor crawling about the ground, covered in blood, and dazed. Wallis said: 'Are you badly hit,
Nick?' 'No, Bill. I'm only scratched. Look after Doug. and Stan.' We subsequently found that he was wounded in 14 places. Wallis then picked up Doug. The poor lad had one arm off and one leg shattered to the thigh, and internal wounds. He said, 'I'm done. Look after
Nick and Stan. Don't mind me.' One soldier named Carter was leaning on the gun. He had a fearful
wound in his side. 'I'm sorry I'm moaning. It will upset the others; but
I can't help it. I can't help it.' He died, poor lad, almost immediately. His last words were: 'Did they get the gun?' Doug. was in fearful agony, but
kept saying: 'I'm dying, but, by God, I'll die game.'
His last words were: 'I died with the gun, didn't I`-and so he went. Dear lad, the most gallant, the most unselfish little
soldier God ever made. He has taught us all how to die. Mick may pull through with his 14 wounds. God grant it
may be so. I do not think in the whole history of the war there is anything to eclipse this incident for gallantry or unselfish devotion of comrades. The General spoke to us all. He said :
Dear lads, I have heard of nothing grander than the way your comrades died. I am proud of your Battery. I would be proud to be a gunner in your Battery. I only hope that when you return that you will be appreciated as you should be.' We buried the dear lads side by side at midnight. It was a real soldier's burial. The minister's voice was drowned in the crack of the bullets
whistling overhead, and thus we left them." ("Argus,"
30th August, 1915.)
Every Australian family which has had a relation at the front, and very few have not, must have gleaned from his letters numerous instances of such otherwise unrecorded and unsuspected heroism. The outside world, which has not had such opportunities of information, still knows from public records how the Anzacs fought and died. The ist Brigade must live through history by its valor at Lone Pine, the 2nd Brigade by its great charge across the shrapnel-spattered plain at Helles, the 3rd Brigade by its unforgettable prowess at the Landing, and the 4th Brigade by its assault on the well-nigh impregnable fastness of Abdul Rahman Bair.
All the world knows how the scanty and indomitable New Zealanders held the heights of Chunuk for three days and nights against the Turkish hordes, and by their unaided valor well-nigh secured victory for the Gallipoli Campaign; and the world knows, too, how the
8th and 10th Light Horse leapt forth on their forlorn hope at Russell's Top and faced a death so certain that the doomed men
shook hands with one another, as for the last time, before leaving the trenches.
Certain of the Anzacs, were of special eminence, and deserve particular mention. The first place here must be given to General Sir
William Throsby Bridges. Reference has already been made to his death. He was wounded by a sniper's bullet in Monash Gully when visiting the trenches on the hills on Sari Bair. He refused to be carried down by the direct road to the sea front, in view of the danger which his bearers would run if they took that route.
He was, therefore, taken slowly through the winding valley, and it is noteworthy that while this was happening, no shots were fired from the Turkish lines. It was found that the bullet had severed two large arteries in the upper part of his leg, and the doctors found it impossible to, stop the bleeding. He was placed on a hospital ship, and had probably as skilful
medical attendance as any which could be provided throughout the Empire; but the flow of
blood continued, and the General gradually grew weaker and passed away quietly before the ship reached Alexandria.
General Bridges had made a great reputation for himself in the days of peace as a remarkably efficient administrator and organiser. Taciturn and unbending, he was a soldier who took his profession in the most serious spirit. An Australian correspondent received a few years ago a letter from a distinguished Swiss officer, who had been present at the Swiss Army
manoeuvres. He declared that the foreign military attach6 who impressed him most and who seemed to have the fullest grip of the situation was Colonel Bridges.
His great achievement in Australia was Duntroon College, the national military school for officers, which he had constructed after the model of the best military colleges in Europe and America. He was wrapped up in the success of this institution, and he lived to see it bear fruit in the gallantry and efficiency
of the younger men whom he had trained. He was not only valuable to the
nation in peace time, however, for at the Landing and afterwards he showed the qualities of a great soldier and general.
He directed the sending of reinforcements to critical points, and showed the greatest coolness, determination, and grip in face of one of the most
trying situations which a British commander has ever had to face. He was equally cool beneath rifle fire, never seeming to consider danger in face of the greatest risks. His death came as the greatest shock to the whole of Australia, and it was felt that his commanding qualities made him absolutely irreplaceable to the Commonwealth.
General Sir William Birdwood before the Boer War had seen a good deal of frontier fighting, and had taken part in the Tirah
campaign of 1897-189S. In South Africa he served with great distinction; he was one of the first officers to enter Ladysmith after the relief, and was Lord Kitchener's Military Secretary during the last phases of the War, retaining this position for the seven years after Lord Kitchener had become Commander-in-Chief in India.
General Birdwood subsequently commanded a Brigade on the North-west Frontier, and became Quartermaster General of India, and was afterwards Secretary to the Viceroy of India in the Army Department. He is as great an administrator as he is a fighter, and from the beginning to the end of the Gallipoli campaign was idolised by his men, -with
very many of whom he was on terms of the closest personal familiarity. He will ever live in Australian and New Zealand history by the name which he so splendidly deserved-"The Soul of Anzac."
After the death of General Bridges the ist Division was commanded by an Anzac officer, who became as distinguished as he was beloved. Brigadier-General Walker had been Chief of Staff of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, and at the Landing had been largely responsible for the formation of the Anzac line in its southern point, and for the building up of the line connecting this with the northern front. He was in the thick of the
fighting here, and his courage and coolness won him the affection of all beneath his command. When he took command of the ist Division, he came to know his troops with a thoroughness which has been achieved by few Divisional Commanders, and he was regarded by them all with the deepest personal affection.
He knew every inch of the line beneath his command, and had visited positions which he would only allow others to visit in cases of the most urgent need. His spirit had sustained
his command during the long months of trench digging and trench warfare, and had helped to lift the
1st Brigade through its heroic fight at Lone Pine. His little figure was familiar and welcome in every part of Anzac, and his sturdy fighting qualities are fittingly commemorated by the naming after him of that hard won and hazardous
position, Walker's Ridge.
On October 13th General Walker was wounded in the arm and hip, but his work had been done, and done splendidly.
Brigadier-General Sinclair Maclagan had gained a high reputation in Egypt as a commander who combined strict discipline with tact, and he here showed himself a skilled soldier and a clever tactician. His
command, the 3rd Brigade, had been sent to Mudros in March to practise landing on an exposed beach in small boats. It bore the brunt of the landing on the 25th April, and its success was largely due to its commander's superb leadership and organising power.
Brigadier-General James Whiteside McCay was, before the War, a lawyer, practising in
Melbourne and Castlemaine, Victoria. He at one time held the portfolio of Defence in the Federal Parliament, and was perhaps as able a Defence
Minister as Australia ever produced. He has strong literary tastes, and comes of a family which has distinguished itself in literature. He has always shown keenness and "grip" in everything he undertakes, and his insistence on strict discipline was of great value to the
1st Division during the months of training in Egypt. His superb and intrepid leadership during the great charge at Cape Helles has made his name famous throughout Australia, and won him special mention in Sir Ian Hamilton's Despatches.
After the charge, he returned to Anzac with his Division, and took part in the fighting there till he was badly wounded by a Turkish sniper, and was sent to an hospital at Malta, after which he returned, for the time being, to Australia.
Among the most distinguished New Zealand Commanders were Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston, and Brigadier-General A. H. Russell. The former led the New Zealand Brigade in the great charge at Helles on the 8th May, and was specially praised in Sir Ian Hamilton's second Despatch for his
dash and valor. He subsequently led the right assaulting column in the Sari Bair offensive, while Brigadier-General Russell commanded the right covering column. The achievements of these forces have been fully chronicled in another chapter of this volume.
Another brilliant New Zealander was Colonel L. C. Malone, of the Wellington Battalion. By profession a solicitor, he developed remarkable engineering ability, and transformed Quinn's Post from a vital point of danger to foothills for offence. He was specially commended for his service by General Birdwood, in a letter to the Agent-General for New Zealand. He led the charge of General Johnston's column up the south-west slopes of Chunuk Bair, and was shot dead while marking out the line to be held by the victorious troops.
Mention has already been made of the death of the intrepid Colonel Quinn during an attack which he had organised from the perilous and vitally important post so fittingly
named after him.
Many of the deeds of the rank and file have been chronicled here. It has been said that
every soldier who fought on Gallipoli deserved the V.C. Among those who actually won it was Lance-Corporal Jacka, who displayed conspicuous bravery at Courtney's Post. With four other men he was holding a portion of the trench at this position during the great offensive directed against it by General Liman von Sanders on this date, when the position was rushed by the Turks, and all his companions were killed. Seven Turks now rushed the trench which
Jacka was holding single-handed; he tackled them, and killed five by rifle fire and two with the bayonet. The trench was held.
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