Part 6

Yes, Mr. Editor, I will try to “write something” for your book. ’Tis a glorious day, bright with sunshine, and the snow has melted away from the sides of the hills—snow that so many Anzacites saw fall for the first time. I know a state where no snow falls. And, to-night, being rum issue night, I would sing to you of black soil plains and wheat-fields, of warm comfy boundary riders’ huts, and of holidays where plump maids join you in surf-bathing excursions. But you see I am a Q.M.S., and at other times when I have tried to versify I have been disturbed. We have a Quartermaster, but, of course, I do all the work. Well, let’s rhyme. Boy, bring me the lyre. The Quartermaster? No, I don’t want the Quartermaster. I want a harp that I may sing to my muse....

He had just read this much out when the sergeant came in and reported that the C.O. insisted on the galvanised iron being procured to-morrow. Then a corporal called and wanted to know could six men in his section have new boots, and when would the rubber boots be ready for the coves in the trenches?

“How can a man write when he is interrupted like this?” asked our poet. “I had a lovely inspiration, too, about surf bathing. It ran like this——”

But again there was an interruption. The sergeant cook was the caller, and he was angry and hostile. “How the —— can I cook seventy beef teas, forty puddings and two hundred milk diets with the bloomin’ quarter issue of water I get? Love me, when I was cooking for shearing sheds out on the Barcoo, where it never rained, I could get as much water as I wanted. If you want them bloomin’ milk diets you got to get me water—or cook them yourself.”

I don’t know whether our poet had a rod with which he taps the rock and brings forth water, but he mollified the sergeant cook by getting water from somewhere. It tasted well in the rum, too. I would have heard the first line of the poem if one of the sergeants in our hospital had not called down for three hot-water bottles, a tin of Bovril, and some brandy for a sick soldier. I wonder how sick you have to be before you get brandy? Before the sergeant had gone the orderly officer came in. He bullied the Q.M.S. about not getting some tents repaired.

“It’s hard work trying to write a poem here,” said the Q.M.S. sadly, when the orderly officer departed. “For two pins I’d chuck writin’, but that idea about the surf girls is too good to lose. I was going to start with this line——”

“Those patients up in Number Three Ward must have more blankets. And you will have to get another forty beds ready to-night,” yelled a voice at the door.

“Excuse me a bit,” said the poet. He was gone about an hour. When he returned there were five men waiting to interview him. The corporal wished that the Q.M.S. would explain how men were to keep their boots on without laces, and whether socks were supposed to be everlasting. The second caller came on a more peaceful mission. He simply wished to know if the Q.M.S. had heard anything about a consignment of Christmas billy-cans that good people in Australia are supposed to be sending us. I don’t know why, but this query made my friend very angry. “Do you think I’ve got your bloomin’ billy-cans?” he yelled. Why should a Q.M.S. say a thing like that? And he seemed so indignant about it, too. The third chap wanted some paper and an envelope to write to his girl; the fourth wanted an old blanket and some twine to make a shroud for a man who had died; and the fifth asked whether the Q.M.S. knew what was the latest war news. When he was told to go to a place warmer than Port Darwin, he asked quietly if either of us could tell him if sheep would do well around Adrianople after the war.

It was growing late, but I thought I would wait a bit and hear that first line about the surf bathers. Two men came in for soap; a doctor chap called to ask whether there was any fruit to make a fruit salad for a sick man; a lance-corporal said his boots hurt, and got a bigger pair; the cook came back and complained that somebody had pinched six tins of condensed milk; and an officer’s servant inquired whether his boss could have an old box and a ground-sheet to make a bath.

Then the Q.M.S. had another rum and took up his pencil again. He spread out a piece of paper and commenced to write. “I’ll get that first verse off and read it to you,” he said. He would have done it, too, but for the sergeant-major. Our sergeant-major is a—well, he is just a sergeant-major, and he does not write verse.

ANZAC SKETCHES

_By DAVID BARKER_

“What about those great-coats?” he roared. “Didn’t I tell you to get them to-day? And they are not here. Weeks ago I ordered you to get them. I don’t suppose you ever requisitioned for them. What’s that you’re writing now—requisitions?”

“No, sir,” said the Q.M.S. “It’s a poem.”

Then the ’major saw red. “What the blazes have I got here?” he yelled. “Men dying from cold because they’ve got no coats, and you writing poems. What the——”

He fainted away, and I was present when the doctors came out of the hospital tent to which they carried him. One of the doctors said the sergeant-major was a splendid soldier, but he had received a tremendous shock from some unknown cause, and they don’t think he can recover.

When the Q.M.S. heard that he became very despondent. “I won’t write that poem now,” he said; “but it would have been a splendid thing. All about a pretty girl in the surf who met a fellow from the bush....”

R. A. L. 1st Australian Stat. Hosp.

A LITTLE SPRIG OF WATTLE

My mother’s letter came to-day, And now my thoughts are far away, For in between its pages lay A little sprig of wattle.

“The old home now looks at its best,” The message ran; “the country’s dressed In spring’s gay cloak, and I have pressed A little sprig of wattle.”

I almost see that glimpse of spring: The very air here seems to ring With joyful notes of birds that sing Among the sprigs of wattle.

The old home snug amidst the pines, The trickling creek that twists and twines Round tall gum roots and undermines, Is all ablaze with wattle.

A. H. SCOTT, 4th Battery, A.F.A.

THE TRUE STORY OF SAPPHO’S DEATH

_Deciphered—with much labour—by a bomb-thrower of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade from a very old tablet dug up in the trenches at Quinn’s Post_

The Isles of Greece! The Isles of Greece! Where burning Sappho sang, Both day and night, without surcease— She didn’t care a hang!

She sang so much by night, by day— She couldn’t sing at all. Her manager he docked her pay: She didn’t fill the hall!

At length, distraught, in fiendish glee, From cliffs that I have seen, She flung herself into the sea, One mile from Mitylene!

’Twas thus that Sappho bold did end Her gay, voluptuous days; And monks, who never can unbend, Press-censored all her lays!

The moral of this tale is that You guard what Deus sends: You cannot burn the candle-fat At both the candle ends!

M. R.

[NOTE.—The epic loses much of its beauty through a hurried translation from the Ancient Greek during a Turkish attack.]

THE EVERLASTING ARGUMENT

Said Pat Malone to a big, brown Sick, “They say at fighting you’re mighty slick.” Said Jock McNab, “Have you noticed the Seeks? They wear their shirts outside their breeks.” Said Cornstalk Joe, “Say what you like, I’ll swear S-i-k-h spells Sike.” Ses I to ’em all, “What need to bicker? Pronounce it so’s to rhyme with shikker.”

C. D. MC., R.S.D., 11th Aust. A.S.C.

Now snowflakes thickly falling in the winter breeze Have cloaked alike the hard, unbending ilex And the grey, drooping branches of the olive trees, Transmuting into silver all their lead; And, in between the winding lines, in No-Man’s Land, Have softly covered with a glittering shroud The unburied dead.

And in the silences of night, when winds are fair, When shot and shard have ceased their wild surprising, I hear a sound of music in the upper air, Rising and falling till it slowly dies— It is the beating of the wings of migrant birds Wafting the souls of these unburied heroes Into the skies.

M. R., N.Z. Headquarters.

THE STORY OF ANZAC

The following extracts from the dispatches of Sir Ian Hamilton form a short official summary of the history of Anzac:

[Sidenote: The Landing]

The Australian and New Zealand Army Corps sailed out of Mudros Bay on the afternoon of April 24, escorted by the 2nd Squadron of the Fleet, under Rear-Admiral Thursby. The rendezvous was reached just after half-past one in the morning of the 25th, and there the 1,500 men who had been placed on board H.M. ships before leaving Mudros were transferred to their boats. This operation was carried out with remarkable expedition and in absolute silence. Simultaneously the remaining 2,500 men of the covering force were transferred from their transports to six destroyers. At 2.30 A.M. H.M. ships, together with the tows and the destroyers, proceeded to within some four miles of the coast, H.M.S. _Queen_ (flying Rear-Admiral Thursby’s flag) directing on a point about a mile north of Kaba Tepe. At 3.30 A.M. orders to go ahead and land were given to the tows, and at 4.10 A.M. the destroyers were ordered to follow.

All these arrangements worked without a hitch, and were carried out in complete orderliness and silence. No breath of wind ruffled the surface of the sea, and every condition was favourable save for the moon which, sinking behind the ships, may have silhouetted them against its orb, betraying them thus to watchers on the shore.

A rugged and difficult part of the coast had been selected for the landing, so difficult and rugged that I considered the Turks were not at all likely to anticipate such a descent. Indeed, owing to the tows having failed to maintain their exact direction, the actual point of disembarkation was rather more than a mile north of that which I had selected, and was more closely overhung by steeper cliffs. Although this accident increased the initial difficulty of driving the enemy off the heights inland, it has since proved itself to have been a blessing in disguise, inasmuch as the actual base of the force of occupation has been much better defiladed from shell fire.

The beach on which the landing was actually effected is a very narrow strip of sand, about 1,000 yards in length, bounded on the north and the south by two small promontories. At its southern extremity a deep ravine, with exceedingly steep, scrub-clad sides, runs inland in a north-easterly direction. Near the northern end of the beach a small but steep gully runs up into the hills at right angles to the shore. Between the ravine and the gully the whole of the beach is backed by the seaward face of the spur, which forms the north-western side of the ravine. From the top of the spur the ground falls almost sheer except near the southern limit of the beach, where gentler slopes give access to the mouth of the ravine behind. Further inland lie in a tangled knot the under-features of Sari Bair, separated by deep ravines, which take a most confusing diversity of direction. Sharp spurs, covered with dense scrub, and falling away in many places in precipitous sandy cliffs, radiate from the principal mass of the mountain, from which they run north-west, west, south-west, and south to the coast.

The boats approached the land in the silence and the darkness, and they were close to the shore before the enemy stirred. Then about one battalion of Turks was seen running along the beach. At this critical moment the conduct of all ranks was most praiseworthy. Not a word was spoken—everyone remained perfectly orderly and quiet awaiting the enemy’s fire, which sure enough opened, causing many casualties. The moment the boats touched land the Australians’ turn had come. Like lightning they leapt ashore, and each man as he did so went straight as his bayonet at the enemy. So vigorous was the onslaught that the Turks made no attempt to withstand it and fled from ridge to ridge pursued by the Australian infantry.

This attack was carried out by the 3rd Australian Brigade, under Major (temporary Colonel) Sinclair Maclagan, D.S.O. The 1st and 2nd Brigades followed promptly, and were all disembarked by 2 P.M., by which time 12,000 men and two batteries of Indian Mountain Artillery had been landed. The disembarkation of further artillery was delayed owing to the fact that the enemy’s heavy guns opened on the anchorage and forced the transports, which had been subjected to continuous shelling from his field guns, to stand farther out to sea.

The broken ground, the thick scrub, the necessity for sending any formed detachments post haste as they landed to the critical point—all these led to confusion and mixing up of units. Eventually the mixed crowd of fighting men, some advancing from the beach, others falling back before the oncoming Turkish supports, solidified into a semi-circular position with its right about a mile north of Gaba Tepe and its left on the high ground over Fisherman’s Hut. During this period parties of the 9th and 10th Battalions charged and put out of action three of the enemy’s Krupp guns. During this period also the disembarkation of the Australian Division was being followed by that of the New Zealand and Australian Division (two brigades only).

* * * * *

[Sidenote: The Counter-Attack]

From 11 A.M. to 3 P.M. the enemy, now reinforced to a strength of 20,000 men, attacked the whole line, making a specially strong effort against the 3rd Brigade and the left of the 2nd Brigade. This counter-attack was, however, handsomely repulsed with the help of the guns of H.M. ships. Between 5 and 6.30 P.M. a third most determined counter-attack was made against the 3rd Brigade, who held their ground with more than equivalent stubbornness. During the night again the Turks made constant attacks; but in spite of all the line held firm. The troops had had practically no rest on the night of the 24-25th; they had been fighting hard all day over most difficult country, and they had been subjected to heavy shrapnel fire in the open. Their casualties had been deplorably heavy. But, despite their losses and in spite of their fatigue, the morning of the 26th found them still in good heart and as full of fight as ever.

It is a consolation to know that the Turks suffered still more seriously. Several times our machine guns got on to them in close formation, and the whole surrounding country is still strewn with their dead of this date.

The reorganisation of units and formations was impossible during the 26th and 27th owing to persistent attacks. An advance was impossible until a reorganisation could be effected, and it only remained to entrench the position gained and to perfect the arrangements for bringing up ammunition, water and supplies to the ridges—in itself a most difficult undertaking. Four battalions of the Royal Naval Division were sent up to reinforce the Army Corps on April 28 and 29.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: May 2]

On the night of May 2, a bold effort was made to seize a commanding knoll in front of the centre of the line. The enemy’s enfilading machine guns were too scientifically posted, and 800 men were lost without advantage beyond the infliction of a corresponding loss to the enemy. On May 4, an attempt to seize Kaba Tepe was also unsuccessful, the barbed-wire here being something beyond belief. But a number of minor operations were carried out, such as the taking of a Turkish observing station, the strengthening of entrenchments, the reorganisation of units, and the perfecting of communication with the landing-place. Also a constant strain was placed upon some of the best troops of the enemy, who, to the number of 24,000, were constantly kept fighting and being killed and wounded freely, as the Turkish sniper is no match for the Kangaroo shooter, even at his own game.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Two Brigades sent to Helles]

The many urgent calls for reinforcements made during the previous critical fighting had forced me to disorganise and mix together several of the formations in the southern group, to the extent even of the French on our right having a British battalion holding their own extremest right. For the purposes of the impending fight, it became therefore necessary to create temporarily a Composite Division, consisting of the 2nd Australian and New Zealand Infantry Brigades (withdrawn for the purpose from the northern section) together with a Naval Brigade formed of the Plymouth and Drake Battalions. The 29th Division was reconstituted into four brigades, i.e. the 88th and 87th Brigades, the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade (T.F.), and the 29th Indian Infantry Brigade. The French Corps Expéditionnaire was reinforced by the 2nd Naval Brigade, and the new Composite Division formed my General Reserve.

During the three days (May 6/8th) our troops were destined to be very severely tried. They were about to attack a series of positions scientifically selected in advance which, although not yet joined up into one line of entrenchment, were already strengthened by works on their more important tactical features.

[After recounting the heavy fighting by which the 29th Division made its advance on May 6 and 7, the dispatch continues:]

The troops were now worn out; the new lines needed consolidating, and it was certain that fresh reinforcements were reaching the Turks. Balancing the actual state of my own troops against the probable condition of the Turks, I decided to call upon the men to make one more push before the new enemy forces could get into touch with their surroundings.

Orders were therefore issued to dig in at sundown on the line gained, to maintain that line against counter-attack, and to prepare to advance again next morning. The Lancashire Fusilier Brigade was withdrawn into reserve, and its place on the left was taken by the Brigade of New Zealanders.

General Headquarters were shifted to an entrenchment on a hill in rear of the left of our line. Under my plan for the fresh attack, the New Zealand Brigade was to advance through the line held during the night by the 88th Brigade and press on towards Krithia. Simultaneously, the 87th Brigade was to threaten the works on the west of the ravine, whilst endeavouring, by means of parties of scouts and volunteers, to steal patches of ground from the areas dominated by the German machine-guns.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: Battle of Krithia]

At 10.15 A.M. heavy fire from ships and batteries was opened on the whole front, and at 10.30 A.M. the New Zealand Brigade began to move, meeting with strenuous opposition from the enemy, who had received his reinforcements. Supported by the fire of the batteries and the machine-guns of the 88th Brigade, they pushed forward on the right and advanced their centre beyond the fir trees, but could make little further progress. By 1.30 P.M. about 200 yards had been gained beyond the previously most advanced trenches of the 88th Brigade.

At this hour the French Corps reported they could not advance up the crest of the spur west of Kereves Dere till further progress was made by the British.

At 4 P.M. I gave orders that the whole line, reinforced by the 2nd Australian Brigade, would fix bayonets, slope arms, and move on Krithia precisely at 5.30 P.M.

At 5.15 P.M. the ships’ guns and our heavy artillery bombarded the enemy’s position for a quarter of an hour, and at 5.30 P.M. the field guns opened a hot shrapnel fire to cover the infantry advance.

The co-operation of artillery and infantry in this attack was perfect, the timing of the movement being carried out with great precision. Some of the companies of the New Zealand regiments did not get their orders in time, but acting on their own initiative they pushed on as soon as the heavy howitzers ceased firing, thus making the whole advance simultaneous.

The steady advance of the British could be followed by the sparkle of their bayonets until the long lines entered the smoke clouds. The French at first made no move, then, their drums beating and bugles sounding the charge, they suddenly darted forward in a swarm of skirmishers, which seemed in one moment to cover the whole southern face of the ridge of the Kereves Dere. Against these the Turkish gunners now turned their heaviest pieces, and as the leading groups stormed the first Turkish redoubt the ink-black bursts of high-explosive shells blotted out both assailants and assailed. The trial was too severe for the Senegalese tirailleurs. They recoiled. They were rallied. Another rush forward, another repulse, and then a small supporting column of French soldiers was seen silhouetted against the sky as they charged upwards along the crest of the ridge of the Kereves Dere, whilst elsewhere it grew so dark that the whole of the battlefield became a blank.

Not until next morning did any reliable details come to hand of what had happened. The New Zealanders’ firing line had marched over the cunningly concealed enemy’s machine-guns without seeing them, and these, re-opening on our supports as they came up, caused them heavy losses. But the first line pressed on and arrived within a few yards of the Turkish trenches which had been holding up our advance beyond the fir wood. There they dug themselves in.

The Australian Brigade had advanced through the Composite Brigade, and, in spite of heavy losses from shrapnel, machine-gun, and rifle fire, had progressed from 300 to 400 yards.

The determined valour shown by these two brigades, the New Zealand Brigade, under Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston, and the 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade, under Brigadier-General the Hon. J. W. McCay, are worthy of particular praise. Their losses were correspondingly heavy, but in spite of fierce counter-attacks by numerous fresh troops they stuck to what they had won with admirable tenacity.

On the extreme left the 87th Brigade, under Major-General W. R. Marshall, made a final and especially gallant effort to advance across the smooth, bullet-swept area between the ravine and the sea, but once more the enemy machine-guns thinned the ranks of the leading companies of the South Wales Borderers, and again there was nothing for it but to give ground. But when night closed in, the men of the 87th Brigade of their own accord asked to be led forward, and achieved progress to the extent of just about 200 yards. During the darkness the British troops everywhere entrenched themselves on the line gained. On the right the French column, last seen as it grew dark, had stormed and still held the redoubt round which the fighting had centred.

[The 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade and New Zealand Infantry Brigade were for three days in the trenches they had dug, but on the completion of the push towards Krithia were retransferred to Anzac. The history of Anzac during the next three months is told in the following extracts:]

[Sidenote: Quinn’s Post]