4ENROUTEFOREGYPT
We boast no more of our bloodless flag that rose from a nation's slime;Better a shred of a deep-dyed rag from the storms of the olden time.From grander clouds in our "peaceful skies" than ever were there beforeI tell you the Star of the South shall rise–in the lurid clouds of war....All creeds and trades will have soldiers there–give every class its due–And there will be many a clerk to spare for the pride of the jackeroo....But, oh! if the cavalry charge again as they did when the world was wide,'Twill be grand in the ranks of a thousand men in that glorious race to rideAnd strike for all that is true and strong, for all that is grand and brave,And all that ever shall be, so long as man has a soul to save.Henry Lawson.
We boast no more of our bloodless flag that rose from a nation's slime;Better a shred of a deep-dyed rag from the storms of the olden time.From grander clouds in our "peaceful skies" than ever were there beforeI tell you the Star of the South shall rise–in the lurid clouds of war....All creeds and trades will have soldiers there–give every class its due–And there will be many a clerk to spare for the pride of the jackeroo....But, oh! if the cavalry charge again as they did when the world was wide,'Twill be grand in the ranks of a thousand men in that glorious race to rideAnd strike for all that is true and strong, for all that is grand and brave,And all that ever shall be, so long as man has a soul to save.Henry Lawson.
We boast no more of our bloodless flag that rose from a nation's slime;Better a shred of a deep-dyed rag from the storms of the olden time.From grander clouds in our "peaceful skies" than ever were there beforeI tell you the Star of the South shall rise–in the lurid clouds of war....
We boast no more of our bloodless flag that rose from a nation's slime;
Better a shred of a deep-dyed rag from the storms of the olden time.
From grander clouds in our "peaceful skies" than ever were there before
I tell you the Star of the South shall rise–in the lurid clouds of war....
All creeds and trades will have soldiers there–give every class its due–And there will be many a clerk to spare for the pride of the jackeroo....
All creeds and trades will have soldiers there–give every class its due–
And there will be many a clerk to spare for the pride of the jackeroo....
But, oh! if the cavalry charge again as they did when the world was wide,'Twill be grand in the ranks of a thousand men in that glorious race to rideAnd strike for all that is true and strong, for all that is grand and brave,And all that ever shall be, so long as man has a soul to save.Henry Lawson.
But, oh! if the cavalry charge again as they did when the world was wide,
'Twill be grand in the ranks of a thousand men in that glorious race to ride
And strike for all that is true and strong, for all that is grand and brave,
And all that ever shall be, so long as man has a soul to save.
Henry Lawson.
WithAustralasia, as with the motherland, the first honours of war fell to the fleet; and whilst the fleet was gathering them in, recruiting for the armies continued briskly through August, September, October, with intervals of suspension because the recruits kept offering themselves in such numbers and so much faster than they could possibly be equipped. By September the New Zealand Maoris refused to be left out of it any longer, and applied for permission to raise and supply a separate corps of volunteers for active service, and no sooner was the offer accepted than the corps was ready, with a big overflow of applicants on a waiting list, in case reinforcements were needed. At the same time the Urewara Maoris, the tribe most recently in arms against the State, presented the Government with 1,600 acres of land to be turned to account as a contribution to the Empire Defence Fund.
All Australia and New Zealand were roused as nothing had ever roused them before; and the glowing enthusiasm and determination of their peoples, instead of wearying a little with the passing of the days, rose and intensified. In the beginning the thousands of soldiers to be sent to the front were fixed at definite totals; but before the end of September, New Zealand had made it clear thatthe size of her contingent would be limited by nothing but the number of her men who were fit to handle a gun; and Mr. Fisher had said for Australia, at a meeting in connection with the Australian Expeditionary Force, "Not 1 per cent. of the people of the Commonwealth are unfavourable to sending as many contingents as may be necessary to ensure victory over Germany and settle this matter once for all. Many Australians would rather be dead than in the grip of the dominion of another people. We mean to leave an honourable name behind us, even if we must perish to maintain it." And that these were no idle words Gallipoli has borne and is bearing witness.
In that month of September, Melbourne and Adelaide, Sydney and Brisbane, all the great cities of the Commonwealth States, were filling their streets to pay homage to the troops that marched through from the training grounds in full war equipment, ready and eager for the order to embark. To describe one such memorable spectacle is to describe them all, for the same great spirit was abroad from end to end of the land.
"For the first time since the war broke out," saysThe Melbourne Agefor the 26th September, "Melbourne was afforded an opportunity of seeing in force the troops who are to form Victoria's contingent at the front. To the number of about 5,000 they marched through the city between 11 a.m. and 1 p.m." It was a day of rain and sleet, but the weather was of little consequence either to the soldiers or the onlookers. "From the north, by train and by road the troops poured into the city, and while they were mustering on the northern boundaries the people were assembling in tens of thousands along the principal streets. For this was to be the city's farewell to these men who were going out to take their place in the fight for the integrity of the Empire, and it was clear from the start that it was going to be no half-hearted affair. For weeks past soldiers had been passing through Melbourne, sometimes in small parties, sometimes in large squads, while ever and anon there had been lines of ambulance wagons going by, or the houses had shaken to the rumbling of big guns. But yesterday all these units were gathered into an Army to be reviewed by the Commander-in-Chief of the Commonwealth forces." The Light Horse rode in from camp through a pelting rain; hardy bushmen, most of them, drawn from the remote back-lands of the State. They and their horses were drenched, but their cheerfulness was not even damped. They rode in and halted along King Street, between Collins and Bourke Streets, to await the arrival of the infantry. Wild squalls of wind and sleet drove the crowd to scatter and find temporary shelter where they could, but as soon as the clamant call of the bugle sounded and the infantry divisions were seen marching sturdily up through the rain from Spencer Street Station the waiting myriads forgot everything else and raced back into their places, till the long streets were narrowed to a living, cheering lane from start to finish of the line of route.
CAMP OF THE AUSTRALIANS AT MUDROS BAY.
CAMP OF THE AUSTRALIANS AT MUDROS BAY.
CAMP OF THE AUSTRALIANS AT MUDROS BAY.
SULTAN OF EGYPT VISITS THE DARDANELLES WOUNDED.
SULTAN OF EGYPT VISITS THE DARDANELLES WOUNDED.
SULTAN OF EGYPT VISITS THE DARDANELLES WOUNDED.
SECOND DIVISION LEAVING MUDROS BAY WITH AUSTRALIANS ON THE FORE DECK.
SECOND DIVISION LEAVING MUDROS BAY WITH AUSTRALIANS ON THE FORE DECK.
SECOND DIVISION LEAVING MUDROS BAY WITH AUSTRALIANS ON THE FORE DECK.
It was not more than five or six weeks since most of the soldiers in these disciplined, perfectly ordered ranks had gone out of the city, pallid, weedy, slack, slouching, from sedentary, cramping shop or office or factory life: now they came back into it, from the training grounds, bronzed, hardened, alertly alive. They went out straggling regiments of raw recruits, shouting to passers-by, singing and laughing carelessly as they went: they came back silent, steady men-at-arms, erect, soldierly, and with the look and bearing of men who had dedicated themselves to a great purpose, and meant to fulfil it.
At the word of command, the Light Horse moved forward, and, preceded by their field ambulances and service wagons, company after company of the smartest, keenest infantry that ever stepped in khaki followed them.
At intervals the rain stopped, the clouds blew apart, and the sun shone, and under sun or rain, with swords and bayonets gleaming and regimental bands crashing out lively marching tunes, these warrior sons of Australia advanced into the city whose streets and shops and houses were all a-flutter with flags and handkerchiefs and endlessly a-roar with friendly voices of welcome. It was a day of high and great emotions; a day to be remembered by all who shared in its stirring pageantry until their last of days; and if there were tears in the eyes of hundreds who were cheering in the dense-packed throng that lined the way, they were tears of pride in these sons and brothers and sweethearts who had given themselves so wholly and so gallantly to the service of their country. I spoke of them just now as raw recruits, and most of them were; but 700 of that 5,000 had war ribbons on their breasts, for they had fought in the South African Campaign. One such was Colonel Elliott, who led the 7th Battalion; fifteen years before he had marched through these same streets as a private in the contingent that was then leaving for South Africa.
The waiting mass of spectators ahead in Russell Street couldlook up the long perspective of Collins Street and see the sinuous khaki line flowing in from the hills beyond, between the dark banks of cheering people, and they took up the cheering and passed it on to thousands gathered farther in the city. As the troops came forward the multitude closed in behind and followed, an ever-swelling, tumultuous, joyous sea of humanity. Two flags marked the saluting base in front of the steps of Parliament House, in Bourke Street, and in readiness on the steps were the Prime Minister, Mr. Fisher, Senator Pearce, the Minister of Defence, and Major-General Bridges, in command of the whole Australian contingent, and they were presently joined by Colonel J. W. McCay, who had led the march through the streets to this spot. Shortly before the soldiers came in sight, the Governor-General and Lady Helen Ferguson drove up; and standing at the foot of the steps under the united flags of Great Britain and Australia the Governor took the salute as the long procession of horse and foot went streaming past.
"The immensely significant and important thing about yesterday's demonstration," continues the reporter, "was that every man who took part in it was a volunteer. No military despotism had driven them to war. From many parts of Victoria, from the public schools, and the State schools, from the cities and the back blocks, from homes of comparative luxury, and from homes of poverty these men had volunteered. In the march past yesterday all social distinctions were blotted out. They were all Australians–Britons by blood and descent, by temperament and tradition–and yet essentially Australians–the biggest contingent for the biggest war ever taken part in by Australia"–or, indeed, by any nation on the face of the earth since the beginning of time.
Once well past the saluting point, the ceremonial march was practically finished, and it came to an actual end at the top of Elizabeth Street. Here, as everywhere, there were countless crowds to give the khakied ranks a rousing reception; some swarmed after the cavalrymen, who rode aside into the Hay Market and there dismounted to feed and water their horses and take an interval of rest and refreshment. The infantry, however, wheeled into Flemington Road and continued its march until it arrived in Royal Park, where a halt was called, and directly the word to "stand at ease" was given, arms were grounded, bayonets sheathed, the ranks broke up, and the men drifted this way and that to find among the thousands of civilians who were overflowingthe Park the friends or relatives who were there in search of them.
There was an hour of impromptu picnicking, soldiers and civilians clustering in little groups; for the sky had cleared by now, and the wet grass was a matter of no account on such a day as this; then the bugles sounded the "fall in," and in a few minutes the men had lined up in ranks again, and in a few more minutes, with mounted officers before and beside them and to the music of drums and brasses, the four battalions swept out into Royal Park Road at the quick march and set forth on the return journey to their camp at Broadmeadows.
When the principal part of the town was left behind "march at ease" was the order of the hour, and rifles were slung over shoulders, cigarettes or pipes lighted, and presently the last of the following crowd, that had thinned out and dropped away and was going back home, could scarcely hear the playing of the band above the gay uproar of the hundreds of voices singing "Who'll go a-fighting with the Kaiser and me?" and, when they had had enough of that, joining as heartily in "It's a long way to Tipperary"–the song that none of us can ever hear again unmoved, so many thousands of our own people have gone singing it to death or glory on the stricken fields of Flanders.
In this wise Melbourne welcomed and said good-bye to that 2nd Brigade of hers; and in similar fashion Sydney, Adelaide, Brisbane honoured their soldier sons; then, for certain weeks they continued their preparations and waited impatiently in their camps for the signal from oversea that should summon them into the battle-line; and it was hailed everywhere with exultant enthusiasm when it came at last and they could strike their tents and go.
By this date, the third week in November of 1914, the effective Army of Australia had grown to nearly 40,000 troops of all arms, and there were not far short of 2,000 men in the Navy. In addition there was now a Citizen Army of 56,298, fully armed and equipped; 51,153 members of rifle clubs, and 67,153 reservists, making a grand total of 164,633. But even these figures look small when compared with what they have risen to in the year that has passed since then.
It was on the 18th November that the combined Australian and New Zealand Expeditionary Forces set out from Albany, Western Australia, for the front. They filled thirty-six transports that steamed out of King George's Sound in four stately columns,with theOrvertoas flagship. All on the wharves and round about them a dense, innumerable throng stood to watch the departure–stood and watched it in a strangely impressive silence. Not until the last ship had its living freight aboard and the tug was towing it out to take its place in the great armada did the crowd seem to catch its heart up suddenly and shatter the almost unbearable stillness with volley after volley of thunderous cheers. And the men on the ships, clustering along the sides, or climbing the rails, waved their hands and hats and sent back an answering salvo that only dwindled and altogether ceased when the shore had receded so far that the crowds that were watching the ships till they had passed from sight could barely be distinguished. But the emotions such a parting stirred were too painful, too harrowing, and "There should be no farewells like that," said one of the troopers when it was over.
The destination of the troopships was unknown, except to the chief officers; some had an idea that they were going to England, some that they were making direct for France and the trenches in Flanders, but all knew before the earlier half of their fortnight's voyage was done that they were to land, in the first place, at Alexandria. None of them cared particularly where it was, so long as they were brought, without too much delay, within reach of the enemy.
The navies of the Empire made a safe pathway over the thousands of miles of sea, and the journey was as uneventfully peaceful as if there had been no war in progress. It might even have been a little monotonous if the men had not been so high-spirited and so fertile in inventing amusements when they were not kept well occupied with drilling and physical exercises. At six in the morning réveillé was sounded, and by the time the bugle pealed for "lights out," at nine at night, everybody was comfortably tired and ready enough to sleep. During the day, between intervals of drilling, signalling practice, and general exercise, there were rifle practice, wrestling, jiu-jitsu, racing, jumping matches, to improve the fitness of the troops in all directions; and from time to time, in quiet corners about the deck, small groups would gather to listen while an officer read descriptions of past battles and expounded military tactics; and on the vessels that carried the cavalry there was a good deal of extra work to do in exercising and looking after the horses. Every evening the band played, and after it had finished the men got up free-and-easy sing-songs among themselves. Butbefore 10 o'clock the ships were all in darkness and no sounds were to be heard except the surge and splash of the waters and perhaps a busy rattle of typewriters from the cabins of the headquarters staff. The genial spirit of comradeship between officers and men helped to make the wheels of the whole organisation run smoothly as well as effectively; the most perfect discipline was maintained without anything of that Prussian arrogance in the higher commands which passes for military capacity; for your Australasian private is an especially free man, and is rightly conscious of no inferiority to his officers, but has the good sense to recognise that they are appointed to lead him and that as a matter of simplest common sense he must render them a strict and willing obedience whilst he is on duty. And the officers are as democratic as their men and wear their dignity easily, and as an official not as a personal superiority. All which naturally tends to promote general harmony and good feeling, and they tell me that this was the prevailing atmosphere on every one of the transports, this and an unquenchable gaiety and cheerfulness that made the long voyage as jolly as if it had been a holiday outing instead of the grim, determined business that it really was.
On the last day of November the transports entered the Red Sea and had glimpses of Turkish territory on the starboard bow. They left the Gulf of Suez behind, and as they were passing through the Canal had their first welcome from some of the men who were to be their comrades in the battles that lay before them. There was a camp of Indian troops a little above Suez, and, says aMelbourne Agecorrespondent who was on one of the transports, "we saw a squad of them come running over the sand, jumping over trenches, while others came pouring out from behind fortifications down to the banks of the Canal, where they cheered in answer to the cheers of the 5th Battalion on the flagship."
About here, or when they sighted Port Said, the Australasians carefully oiled their boots, for the first time since they left Albany, and began to make ready for the end of the journey and going ashore; and by the 3rd December they had emerged into the Mediterranean and landed with all their stores and equipment at Alexandria.