Part 1
Transcriber’s Note Italic text displayed as: _italic_ Bold text displayed as: =bold=
The Anzac Book
The Anzac Book
Written and Illustrated in Gallipoli by The Men of Anzac
_For the benefit of Patriotic Funds connected with the A. & N. Z. A. C._
Cassell and Company, Ltd London, New York, Toronto and Melbourne 1916
The Copyright in all the Contributions, both pictures and writings, contained in THE ANZAC BOOK is strictly reserved to the Contributors.
LITERARY CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION. BY LIEUT.-GEN. SIR W. R. BIRDWOOD ix
EDITOR’S NOTE xiii
THE LANDING. BY A MAN OF THE TENTH (A. R. PERRY, 10th Batt. A.I.F.) 1
THE REMINISCENCE OF A WRECK. BY LIEUT. A. L. PEMBERTON (R.G.A.) 7
AN AUSTRALIAN HOME IN 1930. BY “SOLDIEROO” (2nd Field Co., Aust. Engrs.) 9
NON NOBIS. BY C. E. W. B. 11
THE ÆGEAN WIND. BY H. B. K. 14
OUR FATHERS. BY CAPT. JAMES SPRENT, A.M.C. (3rd Field Amb.) 14
GLIMPSES OF ANZAC. BY HECTOR DINNING (Aust. A.S.C.) 17
PARABLES OF ANZAC. 23
THE YARNS THAT ABDUL TELLS. BY A. P. M. 24
THE GRAVES OF GALLIPOLI. BY L. L. 25
TO A LYRE-BIRD. BY H. J. A. (8th Batt. 2nd Infantry Brigade) 26
THE NEVER-ENDING CHASE. BY AM. PARK 30
ANZAC DIALOGUES. BY N. ASH 31
FROM QUINN’S POST. BY PTE. V. N. HOPKINS, A.M.C. 32
THE HAPPY WARRIOR. BY M. R. 33
HOW I SHALL DIE. BY PTE. CHARLES LOWRY (9th Aust. Batt.) 34
BEACHY. BY TED COLLES (3rd L.H. Field Amb.) 35
THE ANZAC HOME—AND A CONTRAST. BY E. CADOGAN (1/1 Suffolk Yeomanry) 41
FLIES AND FLEAS. BY A. CARRUTHERS (3rd Aust. Field Amb.) 44
ANZAC TYPES:—
1. WALLABY JOE. BY W. R. C. (8th Aust. L.H.) 45
2. THE DAG. BY E. A. M. W. 47
3. BOBBIE OF THE NEW ARMY. BY “TENTMATE” (11th London Regt.) 49
THE INDIAN MULE CORPS. BY B. R. 50
HILL 60. BY C. J. N. 50
JENNY. BY LANCE-CORP. F. C. DUNSTAN (B Depot, 6th A.A.S.C.) 53
MARCHING SONG. BY C. J. N. 54
FURPHY. BY Q. E. D. 56
FROM MY TRENCH. BY CORP. COMUS (2nd Batt. A.I.F.) 57
ABDUL. BY C. E. W. B. 58
A CONFESSION OF FAITH. BY CAPT. JAMES SPRENT (A.M.C.) 59
OUR FRIEND THE ENEMY. BY H. E. W. 60
ARMY BISCUITS. BY O. E. BURTON, N.Z.M.C. 61
THE LOST POEM. BY R. A. L. (1st Aust. Stat. Hosp.) 65
A LITTLE SPRIG OF WATTLE. BY A. H. SCOTT (4th Battery, A.F.A.) 67
THE TRUE STORY OF SAPPHO’S DEATH. BY M. R. 68
THE EVERLASTING ARGUMENT. BY C. D. MC., R.S.D. (11th Aust. A.S.C.). 68
THE UNBURIED. BY M. R. (N.Z. Headquarters) 69
THE STORY OF ANZAC. (SIR IAN HAMILTON’S DISPATCHES) 71
ANZACS. BY EDGAR WALLACE 95
TO MY BATH. BY H. H. U. (Northamptonshire Regt.) 96
ANZAC LIMERICKS. BY C. D. MC. 96
HOW I WON THE V.C. BY “CROSSCUT” (16th Batt. A.I.F.) 98
ICY. BY E. A. M. W. 102
THE TROJAN WAR, 1915. BY J. WAREHAM (1st Aust. Field Amb.) 104
THE PRICE. BY CORP. COMUS (2nd Batt. A.I.F.) 104
KILLED IN ACTION. BY HARRY MCCANN (Headquarters, 4th Aust. Light Horse) 105
A GREY DAY IN GALLIPOLI. BY N. ASH (11th A.A.S.C.) 106
MY ANZAC HOME. BY CORP. GEORGE L. SMITH (24th Sanitary Sect., R.A.M.C.T.) 107
WHAT FRANK THOUGHT. BY A. J. BOYD (A.N.Z.A.C.) 108
ARCADIA. BY BOMBARDIER H. E. SHELL (7th Battery, A.F.A.) 110
THE CAVEMAN. BY J. M. COLLINS (9th Batt.) 113
AN ANZAC ALPHABET. BY J. W. S. HENDERSON (R.G.A.) 115
THE KAISER TO HIS SECRETARY. BY H. B. C. 119
THE ANZAC THUNDERSTORM—FROM THE TRENCHES. BY I. A. SAXON (21st Aust. Batt.) 122
SENSE OR ——? BY C. D. MC. (SERGT.) 123
OUR SAILORS—THE AMPHIBIOUS MAN. BY LIEUT. A. L. PEMBERTON 124
POSSIES. BY “BEN TELBOW” 125
MR. AEROPLANE. BY H. G. GARLAND (16th Aust. Batt.) 126
ANZAC IN EGYPT:—
1. MAHOMED—AND AUSTRALIA. BY C. 127
2. ANZAC IN ALEX. BY L. J. IVORY (4th Howitzer Battery, N.Z.F.A.) 128
GREY SMOKE. BY R. G. N. (11th Aust. A.S.C.) 131
A WAIL FROM ORDNANCE. BY LIEUT. KININMONTH (A.O.C.) 132
“DINKUM OIL” 134
THE BOOK OF ANZAC CHRONICLES:—
1. THE FLOOD. BY “GENESIS GALLIPOLI” 135
2. THE BOOK OF JOBS. BY W. R. WISHART (No. 1 Aust. Stat. Hosp., Anzac) 136
3. THE PERFECTLY TRUE PARABLE OF THE SEVEN EGYPTIANS. BY CAPT. A. ALCORN (No. 1 Aust. Stat. Hosp.) 138
THE SILENCE. BY PTE. R. J. GODFREY (7th Aust. Field Amb.) 141
THE GROWL. BY E. M. SMITH (27th Batt.) 142
MY LADY NICOTINE. BY H. G. GARLAND 142
THE RAID ON LONDON. BY “PRIVATE PAT RIOT” 143
SING! 145
ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT AN ANZAC ALPHABET. BY “UBIQUE” (21st Indian Mtn. Battery) 146
TO SARI BAIR. BY “BEN TELBOW” (10th Aust. Batt.) 148
ON WATER FATIGUE. BY TROOPER GEORGE H. SMITH (7th Light Horse) 148
WHEN IT’S ALL OVER.... BY HARRY MCCANN (4th A.L.H) 151
SPECIAL A. & N. Z. A. C. ORDERS:—
1. THE LANDING 152
2. THE BATTLES OF AUGUST 152
3. ARRIVAL OF 2ND AUSTRALIAN DIVISION, AND SINKING OF THE “SOUTHLAND” 153
4. LORD KITCHENER’S MESSAGE 153
5. GEN. BIRDWOOD RELINQUISHES COMMAND OF A. & N.Z. ARMY CORPS 154
6. THE EVACUATION OF ANZAC 154
7. TELEGRAMS 156
FOUR DESIGNS FOR “THE ANZAC MAGAZINE” COVER 159
CORRESPONDENCE 161
ANZAC FASHIONS: SUMMER 162
” ” WINTER 163
ANSWERS TO CORRESPONDENTS 164
ADVERTISEMENTS 165
LIST OF PLATES
A.N.Z.A.C. BY W. OTHO HEWETT. (_Colour_) _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
LIEUT.-GEN. SIR W. R. BIRDWOOD x
“AT THE LANDING AND HERE EVER SINCE.” BY DAVID BARKER. (_Colour_) 22
“KITCH.” BY C. LEYSHON-WHITE. (_Colour_) 32
ABDUL. BY TED COLLES. (_Colour_) 58
ANZAC SKETCHES. BY DAVID BARKER. (_Colour_) 66
SOMETHING TO REMEMBER US BY. BY TED COLLES. (_Colour_) 70
MAP OF ANZAC. DRAWN BY PRIVATE R. T. GOULDING (N.Z. Inf.) 90
THE NEW STAR. BY TED COLLES, AFTER F. J. LEIGH. (_Colour_) 96
THE SILVER LINING. BY C. E. W. BEAN. (_Colour_) 122
OUR REPTILE CONTEMPORARY. BY DAVID BARKER. (_Colour_) 134
“APRICOT AGAIN!” BY DAVID BARKER. (_Colour_) 142
EACH ONE DOING HIS BIT. BY W. OTHO HEWETT. (_Colour_) 164
INTRODUCTION
By SIR W. R. BIRDWOOD
It is my privilege to have been asked to write an Introduction for THE ANZAC BOOK, and to convey the cordial thanks of all the inhabitants of our little township here to those who have so kindly given us the free use of their brains and hands in writing and illustrating this book in a way which does as much credit to them as the fighting here has done to the Force. We all hope that readers of our book will agree in this, while those who are more critical will perhaps remember the circumstances under which the contributions have been prepared, in small dug-outs, with shells and bullets frequently whistling overhead.
It may be of interest to readers to hear the origin of the word “Anzac.”
When I took over the command of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps in Egypt a year ago, I was asked to select a telegraphic code address for my Army Corps, and then adopted the word “Anzac.” Later on, when we had effected our landing here in April last, I was asked by General Headquarters to suggest a name for the beach where we had made good our first precarious footing, and then asked that this might be recorded as “Anzac Cove”—a name which the bravery of our men has now made historical, while it will remain a geographical landmark for all time.
Our eight months at “Anzac” cannot help stamping on the memory of every one of us days of trial and anxiety, hopes, and perhaps occasional fears, rejoicings at success, and sorrow—very deep and sincere—for many a good comrade whom we can never see again.
I firmly believe, though, it has made better men of every one of us, for we have all had to look death straight in the face so often, that the greater realities of life must have been impressed on all of us in a way which has never before been possible. Bitter as has been my experience in losing many a good friend, I, personally, shall always look back on our days together at “Anzac” as a time never to be forgotten, for during it I hope I have made many fast friends in all ranks, whose friendship is all the more valuable because it has been acquired in circumstances of stress and often danger, when a man’s real self is shown.
In days to come I hope that this book will call to the minds of most of us incidents which, though they may then seem small, probably loomed very large before us at the time, and the thought of which will bring to mind many a good comrade—not only on land, but on the sea. From the day we were put ashore by Rear-Admiral Thursby’s squadron up till now we have had the vigilant ships of His Majesty’s Navy watching night and day, in all weathers, for any opportunity to help us. We will all of us look back in years to come on _Queen Elizabeth_, _Prince of Wales_, _London_, _Triumph_, _Bacchante_, _Grafton_, _Endymion_, as well as such sleuth-hounds of the ocean as _Colne_, _Chelmer_, _Pincher_, _Rattlesnake_, _Mosquito_, and many others, as our best of friends, and will think of them, their officers and ship’s company, as the truest of comrades, with whom it has been a privilege to serve, and as the best of representatives of the Great Fleet and Service which carries with honour and ensures respect for the British flag to the uttermost parts of the earth.
Boys! Hats off to the British Navy.
It may be that, in thinking of old “Anzac” days, the words of the Harrow school-song will spring to one’s mind:
“Forty years on, growing older and older, Shorter in wind, as in memory long, Feeble of foot, and rheumatic of shoulder, What will it help you that once you were strong!”
But it has indeed helped us all to have been with strong men at “Anzac,” and whatever the future may have in store, I, personally, shall always regard the time I have been privileged to be a comrade of the brave and strong men from Australia and New Zealand, who have served alongside of me, as one of the greatest privileges that could be conferred on any man, and of which I shall be prouder to the end of my days than any honour which can be given me.
No words of mine could ever convey to readers at their firesides in Australia, New Zealand and the Old Country, one-half of what all their boys have been through, nor is my poor pen capable of telling them of the never-failing courage, determination and cheerfulness of those who have so willingly fought and given their lives for their King and country’s sake. Their deeds are known to the Empire, and can never be forgotten, while if any copy of this little book should happen to survive to fall into the hands of our children, or our children’s children, it will serve to show them to some extent what their fathers have done for the Empire, and indeed for civilisation, in days gone by.
I sincerely hope that every one of my old comrades may meet with all the good fortune his work here has deserved, and live to a ripe old age, with happiness, and be occasionally reminded of old times by a glance at THE ANZAC BOOK.
ANZAC, _December 19, 1915_.
EDITOR’S NOTE
This book of Anzac was produced in the lines at Anzac on Gallipoli in the closing weeks of 1915. Practically every word in it was written and every line drawn beneath the shelter of a waterproof sheet or of a roof of sandbags—either in the trenches or, at most, well within the range of the oldest Turkish rifle, and under daily visitations from the smallest Turkish field-piece. Day and night, during the whole process of its composition, the crack of the Mauser bullets overhead never ceased. At least one good soldier that we know of, who was preparing a contribution for these pages, met his death while the work was still unfinished.
THE ANZAC BOOK was to have been a New Year Magazine to help this little British Australasian fraternity in Turkey to while away the long winter in the trenches. The idea originated with Major S. S. Butler, of the A.N.Z.A.C. Staff. On his initiative and that of Lieutenant H. E. Woods a small committee was formed to father the magazine. A notice was circulated on November 14th calling for contributions from the whole population of Anzac. Any profit was to go to patriotic funds for the benefit of the Army Corps.
Between November 15th and December 8th, when the time for the sending in of contributions closed, THE ANZAC BOOK was produced. As drawings and paintings began to come in, disclosing the whereabouts of some of the talent which existed in Anzac, a small staff of artists was collected in order to produce head- and tail-pieces and a few illustrations; and a dug-out overlooking Anzac Cove became the office of the only book ever likely to be produced in Gallipoli.
It was after the contributions had been finally sent in, and when the work of editing was in full swing, that there came upon most of us from the sky the news that Anzac was to be evacuated. Such finishing touches as remained to be added after December 19th were given to the work in Imbros. The date for the publication was necessarily delayed. And it was realised by everyone that this production, which was to have been a mere pastime, had now become a hundred times more precious as a souvenir. Certainly no book has ever been produced under these conditions before.
Except for this modification in the scheme of its production, THE ANZAC BOOK remains to-day exactly the same as when it was planned for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps still clinging to the familiar holly-clothed sides of Sari Bair.
The three weeks during which this book was being produced will be remembered by the men of Anzac as being the period during which we were visited by the two fiercest storms which descended upon the Peninsula. During the afternoon of November 17th the wind from the south-west gradually increased to more than half a gale, and brought with it, after dark, a most torrential thunderstorm. A day or two later this subsided, leaving a dishevelled Anzac. But the wind swung slowly round to the north, and by November 27th it was blowing a northerly blizzard; and the next day five out of every six Australians, for the first time in their lives, woke to find a white countryside and the snow falling. How deeply that snow impressed them can be seen in these pages—for dust, heat and flies were much more typical of Gallipoli.
The book was composed from first to last in the full prospect of Christmas at Anzac, and it remains a record, perhaps, all the more interesting on that account. The Printing Section of the Royal Engineers, especially Lieutenant Tuck and Corporal Ashwin, and Lieutenant G. L. Thomson, R.N.A.S., and certain Naval Officers helped us with some drawing-paper, ink and paints, and the Photographic Section with some excellent panoramas; but for the rest, the contributors had to work with such materials as Anzac contained: iodine brushes, red and blue pencils, and such approach to white paper as could be produced from each battalion’s stationery.
The response to the committee’s request for contributions was enormous, and in consequence the editors have been able to use only portions, even if they be a half or a quarter, of the longer articles and stories submitted to them—but they have done this without hesitation, rather than reject the articles altogether. The competitions for certain contributions resulted as follows: COVER—Private D. Barker, _5th Australian Field Ambulance_; DRAWING—Trooper W. O. Hewett, _9th Australian Light Horse_; DRAWING (_Comic_)—Private C. Leyshon-White, _6th Australian Field Ambulance_; PROSE SKETCH—H. Dinning, _9th Co., Australian A.S.C._; PROSE (_Humorous_)—Second-Lieutenant J. E. G. Stevenson, _2nd Field Co., Australian Engineers_; VERSES—Captain James Sprent, _3rd Australian Field Ambulance_; VERSES (_Humorous_)—T. H. Wilson, _A Co., 16th Battalion A.I.F._ The greater number of the contributors were private soldiers in the Army Corps. The sole “outside” contribution is Mr. Edgar Wallace’s poetic tribute to the Australian and New Zealand Force, which is included in these pages with the consent of the author.
The thanks of those particularly concerned in the production are especially due to General Birdwood, for his close and constant interest; to Brigadier-General C. B. B. White, who, though at the time burdened with most anxious duties, never failed to give some of his few spare moments to the solving of difficulties incidental to this publication; to the Commonwealth authorities and the Publicity Department in London; and particularly to Mr. H. C. Smart, for his untiring assistance, invaluable advice, and for the help of his outstanding ingenuity in organisation, and of the splendid business system and abundant facilities which he has created in the Australian Military Office in London; to the War Office and the Admiralty, and the Central News for permission to use valuable photographs; and to many others, both in the A. and N.Z. Army Corps and outside it, who have given their best help to make this book a success. For the Staff—C. E. W. Bean, editor; Privates F. Crozier, T. Colles, D. Barker, W. O. Hewett, C. Leyshon-White, artists; A. W. Bazley, clerk—the work has been a labour of love for which only they realise how little thanks they deserve.
THE ANZAC BOOK STAFF.
ÆGEAN SEA, _December 29, 1915_.
The Anzac Book
THE LANDING
_By a Man of the Tenth_
Come on, lads, have a good, hot supper—there’s business doing.” So spoke No. 10 Platoon Sergeant of the 10th Australian Battalion to his men, lying about in all sorts of odd corners aboard the battleship _Prince of Wales_, in the first hour of the morning of April 25th, 1915. The ship, or her company, had provided a hot stew of bully beef, and the lads set to and took what proved, alas to many, their last real meal together. They laugh and joke as though picnicking. Then a voice: “Fall in!” comes ringing down the ladderway from the deck above. The boys swing on their heavy equipment, grasp their rifles, silently make their way on deck, and stand in grim black masses. All lights are out, and only harsh, low commands break the silence. “This way No. 9—No. 10—C Company.” Almost blindly we grope our way to the ladder leading to the huge barge below, which is already half full of silent, grim men, who seem to realise that at last, after eight months of hard, solid training in Australia, Egypt and Lemnos Island, they are now to be called upon to carry out the object of it all.
“Full up, sir,” whispers the midshipman in the barge.
“Cast off and drift astern,” says the ship’s officer in charge of the embarkation. Slowly we drift astern, until the boat stops with a jerk, and twang goes the hawser that couples the boats and barges together. Silently the boats are filled with men, and silently drop astern of the big ship, until, all being filled, the order is given to the small steamboats: “Full steam ahead.” Away we go, racing and bounding, dipping and rolling, now in a straight line, now in a half-circle, on through the night.
The moon has just about sunk below the horizon. Looking back, we can see the battleships coming on slowly in our rear, ready to cover our attack. All at once our pinnace gives a great start forward, and away we go for land just discernible one hundred yards away on our left.
Then—crack-crack! ping-ping! zip-zip! Trenches full of rifles upon the shore and surrounding hills open on us, and machine-guns, hidden in gullies or redoubts, increase the murderous hail. Oars are splintered, boats are perforated. A sharp moan, a low gurgling cry, tells of a comrade hit. Boats ground in four or five feet of water owing to the human weight contained in them. We scramble out, struggle to the shore, and, rushing across the beach, take cover under a low sandbank.