The Big Sap running past No. 2 Post[Photo by the AuthorThe Big Sap running past No. 2 Post.
[Photo by the Author
The Big Sap running past No. 2 Post.
To the highly-strung men, many of whom had not slept for three days, the yelling of the Turks, the ghostlike sea lapping on the beach in the background, and the enemy jumping from bush to bush in the moonlight, the whole business resembled a frightful nightmare. Gradually the Turks grew tired of yelling, and retired to occupy "Old No. 3," while the weary troopers trudged along the dusty sap to their much-needed bivouac, leaving the squadron of the Auckland Mounted Rifles out watching the position until daylight.
A new No. 3 Post was established by the Otago Mounted Rifles on rising ground about 200 yards north of No. 2 Post. This became the extreme right flank of the Anzac position until the great advance in August.
Supplying the Needs of the Army.
The Germans selecting their time for opening the World War, it was not surprising that Britain was sadly handicapped as regards munitions and material generally. As yet the organization by the Ministry of Munitions was a thing undreamt of, and seeing that the Gallipoli campaign was considered a subsidiary one, and that all supplies available were not sufficient for the needs of the army in France, was it surprising that comparatively little attention was given to our operations in what was assumed to be a minor theatre of war?
The A.S.C. Depot in Monash Gully[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.The A.S.C. Depot in Monash Gully.
[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.
The A.S.C. Depot in Monash Gully.
It is easy at this stage to find fault, but the fault lies not only with the lack of preparation of the Government and people of Britain, but also in a less degree with the Governments and people of the Dominions beyond the seas. We cannot be blind to the fact that democracies are short sighted, and must educate themselves to acquire long and wide vision, if they are to hold their own and exist peacefully among ambitious and designing peoples. But we must not moralize,for this narrative deals with facts, though it is just as well to remember that even now, in the days of Peace, we are making history, and at times we may be allowed to peer into the future and see visions of the Pacific in which the people of Australia and New Zealand will surely be called upon to play an important part.
Academic inquiry into our unpreparedness and the causes of the shortage of supplies was of little value to the soldiers trying to defeat the enemy. The men of Anzac had often to procure their stores in a manner not strictly orthodox.
The principal requirements of the army at Anzac were food and water to sustain life; ammunition—big-gun, field-gun, small-arm, and hand-grenades; while to provide some measure of shelter from the adversary and from the weather, timber and sandbags became primal necessaries. There was no hinterland from which these supplies could be drawn. Mudros, the nearest safe anchorage, was fifty miles away; Alexandria, the chief port from which most supplies must come, was distant over 500 miles. The area occupied by the troops produced no food, no timber, and only a very little hardly-won water. Few have any conception of the difficulties that had to be overcome.
The difficulties were chiefly the scarcity of essential articles, but a further obstacle was the matter of transport. It was comparatively easy to get goods as far as Alexandria, to which, situated as it is on the ocean highway to the East, the largest ships brought produce from the ends of the earth. The next stage, to Lemnos, was off the beaten track, and smaller vessels were employed. At Mudros, the goods were transhipped to vessels that again had shrunk in size and were fewer in number. Here the greatest difficulty of all arose, for ships could not come within a mile of the shore. The enemy big guns ranged well out to sea, and at the Anzac piers, nothing as large as even a trawler could lie owing to the shallowness of water. The stores that had started from England or New Zealand in ocean liners, continued their long journey in trawlers manned by hardy North Sea fisherfolk; and made the final stage of all in barges towed by five small picket boats from the ships of His Majesty's Navy.
Drawing the Water Ration at Mule Gully[Photo by the AuthorDrawing the Water Ration at Mule Gully.This was the principal supply for the Units on Walker's Ridge and Russell's Top. In the picture are Maori and Pakeha New Zealanders, Australians, Englishmen, and Indians.
[Photo by the Author
Drawing the Water Ration at Mule Gully.
This was the principal supply for the Units on Walker's Ridge and Russell's Top. In the picture are Maori and Pakeha New Zealanders, Australians, Englishmen, and Indians.
Think of it, those five small steam boats, officered by fifteen-year-old boys and manned by half a dozen gallant sailormen, were the slender link connecting the army ashore with the world overseas. All through those strenuous months, during fair weather and foul, splashed with the spindrift of the Ægean gales, drenched with the spray from the hissing shells, the daring crews of those stout trawlers and trim picket boats, from the first tow of the landing to the last of the evacuation, made Anzac possible.
The "Albion" ashore off Gaba Tepe[British Official PhotographThe "Albion" ashore off Gaba Tepe.The "Cornwallis" is towing her off.
[British Official Photograph
The "Albion" ashore off Gaba Tepe.
The "Cornwallis" is towing her off.
The Utter Dependence on the Imperial Navy.
The Gallipoli campaign, perhaps more noticeably than any other phase of the war, demonstrated the utter dependence of the Dominions Overseas on the supreme Imperial Navy. Of what use are mighty armies if they cannot be concentrated at the decisive point at the right moment? Every New Zealander who was on Gallipoli fully recognized that without the Navy we could not have got ashore, we could not have had our daily beef and biscuits, and worse still, we couldnever have got safely away. How the admiration of the soldiers for the sailors was reciprocated! What a galaxy of glorious memories—the old "Majestic" and gallant "Bacchante" enveloping Walker's Ridge and Gaba Tepe in clouds of smoke and dust on the day of the landing; the dear old "Albion" ashore that momentous morning off Gaba Tepe, when the destroyers and the "Cornwallis" tugged and tugged while the old ship spat broadside after broadside at the Turkish guns on the ridge; the sleepless destroyers, with their searchlights on the flanks—the "Chelmer," the "Pincher," the "Colne," the "Usk," and a dozen others—men up and down New Zealand to-day recall those magic names and remember the hot cocoa, the new bread, the warm welcomes and the cheery freemasonry of the sea. The service of the Navy was a very personal thing, and meant more to the men of Anzac than feeble words can tell.
Ammunition from every Arsenal in India.[Photo by the AuthorAmmunition from every Arsenal in India.
[Photo by the Author
Ammunition from every Arsenal in India.
The ammunition problem was an acute one. Fortunately for the supply arrangements, the big guns of the Gallipoli armies were on the warships, but the howitzers and the field guns ashore were often sadly supplied. At one time the howitzers were restricted to two shells daily. Everything had to be saved for the days on which the Turk decided to "drive the infidels into the sea."
Small arm ammunition was always plentiful, and the machine gunners, thanks to the Navy, never had to go short. As far as rifles and machine guns were concerned, many ofthe outlying parts of the Empire were called on, and at one time Anzac Cove was inundated with thousands of small arm ammunition cases, on which were inscribed the signs of all the famous arsenals of India.
When "jams"—those bugbears of machine gunners—were at first much too frequent, we overcame these difficulties by using only New Zealand-made ammunition, which proved to be less variable and more reliable than the ordinary issue.
The Bomb Factory.
The hand-grenade position was often desperate. For the first few months no grenades were available, and the supply had to be improvized on shore. A "bomb" factory was instituted, and here, day and night, men toiled to make the weapon so effective in the short-range fights that burst with such fury around the devoted posts of Quinn's and Courtney's. The Turk had a plentiful supply of a round, cricket-ball hand-grenade, with a patent match-head ignition, and these he literally showered on Quinn's.
The Anzac factory retorted with several brands, but the most favoured one was made out of the green fuse tin from the 18-pr. guns. These tins were stout, and of the size of a condensed milk tin. Two holes were punched in the bottom for a wire to go through, and three holes in the lid—two for the wire and a larger one for the fuse. The wire came from hawsers salved from the wreckage of the trawlers off the beach. Into the centre of the tin was placed a dry gun-cotton primer or half a stick of gelignite, the detonator and a five-seconds fuse was fitted, and the remaining space packed with unexploded Turkish cartridges with the bullets cut off to let the lid close, after which the whole was secured across the top by joining the two ends of the wires. So, from the cast-off tins and wires, captured ammunition, and the engineers' stores of explosives, these grenades were manufactured to repel the apparently rejuvenated "Sick Man of Europe."
A time came when the gun-cotton and gelignite got scarce, and a powder explosive called ammonal had to be used. This presented a difficulty, as the stuff had to be packeted. Butan active brain came to the rescue with a suggestion that cloth might be used for the packet. It so happened that about this time a large consignment of shirts had been opened up, all cut out and in the multitude of parts that go to make a shirt, but no two parts stitched together! This material was requisitioned, cut into squares, and the explosive packed like little bags of washing blue, with the detonator and fuse inside. Another time, tins ran out. The little mountain battery fuse tin was used as a stopgap, and then, luckily for Quinn's, another rascally manufacturer sent a shipment of mildewed tobacco to Anzac. The stuff was condemned, and before the day was done the empty tins lay in the bin of the bomb factory. Thus, though they did not intend it, did the careless London shirt inspector and the bad tobacco specialist help to keep the front line of the Anzac area.
Carrying Stores up Walker's Ridge[Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C.Carrying Stores up Walker's Ridge.
[Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C.
Carrying Stores up Walker's Ridge.
The Scarcity of Building Materials.
It is questionable if any army in the field ever had too many sandbags. To keep earth walls standing at as steep a slope as possible is the object of all builders of trenches, for the steeper a wall the safer it is. "It is difficult to make war safe," says the soldier, who, being wise, does not attempt theimpossible. But the same soldier takes few chances, and wherever he can build a wall or put on a roof that gives him real or fancied protection, nothing will stop him from collecting from somewhere the necessary material.
The scrub did not run to the size of trees, and apart from a little firewood nothing was obtainable on shore. The much-talked-of "Olive Groves" always seemed to be in the hands of the enemy. All the timber for building purposes, for the timbering of well shafts, and the casing of mining galleries, had to be brought ashore on barges. It was carried to the engineers' store yard on Hell Spit and guarded like the Bank of England, for everybody wanted two or three pieces and a few sheets of corrugated iron for the roof of a dugout. If a staved-in boat or a shattered barge stranded on the beach, it was quickly pounced upon and carried off.
A Maori on Sentry at the Water TanksA Maori on Sentry at the Water Tanks in Mule Gully.
A Maori on Sentry at the Water Tanks in Mule Gully.
One benefactor conceived the idea of tearing timber out of the fittings of the transports, and for some time working parties gathered in much spoil. If these ships had stayed much longer they would have been torn to pieces by the energetic builders of dugouts and "hospitals." The decree had gone forth that timber and sandbags could only be issued for the front line and hospitals, with the natural result—every requisition was marked "for hospital" and initialled by somestrange hand, the owner of which was most likely of the humble rank of private.
The man who invented barbed wire is as heartily cursed by soldiers as by dairy farmers. The sudden cry of "wire" sends a shiver down the spine of the most seasoned. For wherever wire is, machine guns are placed to enfilade it. The Turk was a great believer in wire. It was of German manufacture, and very skilfully and strongly placed. In order to make it effective, it must be made very secure. Only in positions previously prepared can the requisite work be put in. In preparing for the Gallipoli landings the Turk put it well out in the water, whereby, it being concealed, many casualties occurred.
As our No Man's Land was so narrow, it was difficult to put out the ordinary high wire entanglement, the noise of driving the stakes alone putting it outside the pale of practicability. At the time the new screw-picket wiring system had not been evolved. But as something had to be done, in the workshop on the beach many "knife-rest" obstacles were made by constructing two stout wooden X's about 3 feet high, joining them by 3 x 2 distance pieces of 12 feet long, and wrapping the whole round and round and diagonally with wire. These fearsome arrangements, with much profanity from the unfortunate working party, were carried up the communication trenches—no easy task on a hot day, with a traverse to negotiate every few yards. The front line at last reached, the awkward obstacles were pushed unceremoniously over the parapet and levered out as far as possible by long props under cover of darkness.
The Water Supply.
Though the scored cliffsides of Gallipoli give indications of a torrential rainfall during winter, water was difficult to obtain even in April and May. Wells were sunk in all likely places and water diviners plied their uncanny calling with some success. The wells, however, did not last long, except the one near No. 2 Outpost. Greek tank steamers brought the bulk of the water from Egypt, and over by Imbros pumped it into water barges, which were towed inby the picket boats or a tug. By a manual, the water was forced into tanks on the beach, to which day and night came a stream of thirsty men with water bottles. Sometimes the barge would be holed by shellfire and the valuable load lost, or again a leak might turn the precious water brackish. Two quarts a day was often the ration—this had to be used for all purposes. Mostly it was drunk in the form of tea. Any tea left over was not wasted, but used for shaving!
A Pumping Fatigue on the Water BargeA Pumping Fatigue on the Water Barge.
A Pumping Fatigue on the Water Barge.
The men in the front line had great difficulty in getting water as the carrying fatigue was often shot as it dodged up Monash Gully or the track to Walker's Ridge. Whatever the men on the beach got, those in the trenches were always desperately short.
From a hygienic point of view, the sea was the salvation of the men. Everyone near the beach bathed twice a day even at the risk of "stopping one," while the men from the hills came down whenever the reliefs took over.
Bully Beef and Biscuits.
Food was always plentiful (except just after the Great Blizzard in November when stocks ran very low). Tinned meat, jam and hard biscuits and a mug of tea provided 99 per cent. of the meals. Thoreau once suggested that we could make ourselves rich by making our wants few. On Gallipoli this did not mean a very great effort on the part of the will, but sore gums and rebellious stomachs were the price of getting wealthy. The army biscuits can never be forgotten—their hardness was beyond belief. When made for long journeys on sailing ships, it probably was necessaryto make them so that they would keep, but surely in war time the soldier could get a softer one? The white ones brought from New Zealand were quite easy and pleasant to eat, while the oatmeal ones, grated on a piece of kerosene tin, made a tolerable porridge for the mornings! But the ordinary white biscuit as supplied by the A.S.C., while it may have been full of nourishment, was so hard that it was nibbled round the edges and then tossed into No Man's Land. After a month or two, a little bread arrived periodically, and many a penitent soldier vowed he would never waste a crust again.
But the perversity of the man who packed the jam! Why the cases did not come assorted no one knew. As it was, each area seemed to get its one particular variety right through a campaign. The familiar plum and apple, and the fruit of the golden apricot should never be placed before the Anzac soldier.
Bread and Jam[Photo by the Author"Bread and Jam."Two Signallers outside the Divisional Signal Office.
[Photo by the Author
"Bread and Jam."
Two Signallers outside the Divisional Signal Office.
Fresh beef was also tried, but, considering the heat and flies, there is little wonder that the soldier suspected it of causing not a little of his internal disturbances. An article in great request was "Maconochies," a line of meat goodspacked with a few slices of potatoes, carrots and beans. The tins were boiled in a petrol tin of sea water, and when turned out made a steaming mess considered far superior to the traditional "dainty dish" that was set before the king. Tinned meat is very good picnic fare, but when the meat is not a New Zealand brand but comes from somewhere in the Argentine; when it is served up for breakfast, dinner, and tea; curried or "hashed with broken biscuits"—it is apt to lose its savour, and the nominal pound (really 12 ounces) becomes more than the constitution of a New Zealander can stand.
A Sikh Water CarrierA Sikh Water Carrier.
A Sikh Water Carrier.
Vegetables were always scarce—here the tinned concoction known as "Julienne" filled a gap. The mixture seemed to be all manner of vegetables flaked and dried so that they resembled multi-coloured shavings. On the principle that what does not fatten will fill, large quantities of this dried vegetable were consumed in the early days when men were strong enough to stand it.
Newcomers from Egypt sometimes brought a little fruit, while scouts were always out among the sailors to induce them to bring back delicacies from the canteens of the warships off the coast. Any excuse was better than none to get alongside a hospital ship, not only for the meal that the insinuating soldier was bound to get, but for the chance ofbuying a loaf or a tin of milk from the canteen or the commercial-minded baker! People going to Mudros or Imbros were loaded with commissions and made the Greek traders rich by buying tinned figs, pineapples, and milk at fabulous prices, and paradoxically, fowls' eggs that were fresh and only one shilling a dozen. It was about this time that the soldier, living as frugally as any ascetic, was solemnly warned that "over-ripe fruit, such as bananas, tomatoes, oranges, and grapes should be avoided" as likely to encourage cholera! The army, weakened by dysentery, shrieked with delight!
Cheese and bacon were two popular variants in the ration. It always amused the Colonial to see the Russian Jews of the Zion Mule Corps struggling up to their cook-houses with their little bags of bacon. "It is the ration!" was the stereotyped retort to the gibes of the ribald ones. The hot sun affected the cheese somewhat. Perhaps two of the most characteristic smells of Anzac were chloride of lime and the pungent aroma of over-heated Cheddar.
Mules dug in under the Cliffs in Mule Gully[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.Mules dug in under the Cliffs in Mule Gully.
[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.
Mules dug in under the Cliffs in Mule Gully.
This is a long story about food; but it was necessary for a soldier to eat, and most of the sickness can be attributed to the monotony of the food, the flies and the heat. Little wonder that men sickened. Trenches themselves were kept scrupulously clean, but all refuse was thrown into No Man'sLand in which were also innumerable dead bodies that it had been impossible to bury. So in the heat, the front line troops, after making the mess tin of tea, endeavoured to get a meal of meat or bread and jam. Countless hordes of flies settled on everything edible. The soldiers waved them off. The black cloud rose and descended among the filth on the other side of the parapet. Presently they were back again on the food,—and so on, from the jam to the corpse, and back again to the jam, flitted the insect swarm, ensuring that the germs of most things undesirable were conveyed to the soldier's system through his mouth.
Whatever may be the immunity of the transport and supply services in some campaigns, it is right that acknowledgment should be made of the risks run by the carriers of stores to and on the Peninsula. Whether by the trawlers or the picket boats at sea; in the ordnance and supply stores on the beaches; or on the mule tracks of the precipitous ridges and winding valleys—the men of the Navy, the Indian Supply and Transport, the Zion Mule Transport, and of our own Australian and New Zealand Army Service Corps carried their lives in their hands, for the enemy had the range to a yard of every landing stage, dump and roadway.
Midsummer at Anzac.
The most debated area in Anzac was that narrow strip of No Man's Land opposite Quinn's and Courtney's Posts, at the head of Monash Gully. The post on the other side of Courtney's was Steel's Post, just opposite which was the Turkish work known as German Officers' Trench. Hereabouts the front lines were a little farther apart. The Turk took advantage of this by bringing artillery fire to bear on Steel's and sometimes on Courtney's. Many were the anxious moments when the firing persisted a little longer than usual, as the garrisons could not help being a little apprehensive for the safety of their posts perched so perilously on the crest line.
The Fly NuisanceThe Fly Nuisance.Flies, unlike men, love light rather than darkness. The wise soldier aired his blankets during the day and so kept the flies out while he snatched a little rest before going on work or watch.
The Fly Nuisance.
Flies, unlike men, love light rather than darkness. The wise soldier aired his blankets during the day and so kept the flies out while he snatched a little rest before going on work or watch.
The lines were so close together opposite Quinn's Post that neither side could afford to try the effect of artillery on the front-line trenches. This was fortunate, for a few well-aimed high explosive shells might have tumbled the wholestructure into Monash Gully. But what Quinn's lacked in artillery duels, it more than made up for with its hand-grenade fights. Here, in common with the rest of No. 3 and No. 4 Sections, the enemy held the higher ground. Every day and every night a hail of cricket-ball bombs descended on the fire trenches, those falling in the communication trenches bounding merrily down hill until brought to rest by a traverse. Aeroplanes came over now and again, ineffectually dropping bombs and little steel darts. Whatever their lying propaganda boasted, their airmen never registered a hit on post or pier.
Mining at Quinn's Post.
Quinn's had a fatal fascination for the Turk. During May the enemy commenced mining in earnest, and this was a serious menace to the safety of the Anzac area. Successful underground operations by the enemy would mean that Quinn's might slide down into Monash Gully, so vigorous counter-mining was resorted to. Galleries were driven out under the front-line trenches; T-heads were put on to each gallery—these heads connected up made a continuous underground gallery right round the front of the post. Using this as a base, protective galleries were driven out in the direction of the advancing tunnels of the Turk. The object of this counter-mining was to get under or near the opponent's drives, and destroy them by means of small charges, calculated to break in their tunnels, but not to make a crater in No Man's Land above.
In those early days, sensitive listening appliances were not available. Underground it is very difficult to estimate the distance away of sounds recognized, for even old coal miners have little experience of parties working towards them. In constructing railway tunnels, the engineers working from both ends have the data referring to both drives. But in military mining the work of the enemy is shrouded in the "fog of war," so mining under these conditions is a most exciting process. Having driven the estimated distance to meet the enemy, the question constantly arises, "Will it pay us now to fire a camouflet?" The knowledge that the enemy is very likely considering the samequestion adds a little to the tension. Then the listener reports that the enemy has ceased working. "Has he gone for his explosive, or is he only changing shift?" These and countless other speculations are constantly being made by the miner of either side. Each hesitates to fire his charge too early, as it may not achieve the maximum result. But if one waits too long the enemy will achieve that maximum! So both sides speculate until one makes a decision, which is announced to the opponents by a stunning explosion and a blinding crash if the effort is successful.
In Monash Gully: The Headquarters of No. 3 Defence Section[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.In Monash Gully: The Headquarters of No. 3 Defence Section.
[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.
In Monash Gully: The Headquarters of No. 3 Defence Section.
Twice Turkish tunnels had been detected nearing our lines. These were destroyed by small charges sufficient to break them down, for we could not afford to use a heavy charge, as it might threaten the stability of the hillside.
The Death of Major Quinn.
But at 3.20 on the morning of May 29, an ear-splitting explosion brought everyone in Monash Gully to his feet. A mine had wrecked No. 3 Subsection in Quinn's Post. Instantly, the musketry and bomb duel burst into life. Flashes of flame ran round the enemy's trenches and ours. The bursting of enemy shells fitfully illuminated Monash Gully. The detonations of hand-grenades, the bursts of machine-gun fire, the spluttering of musketry, the crashes of shrapnel and high explosive thundered round and round the head of Monash Gully, echoing and re-echoing in the myriad cliffs and valleys. In the confusion, a party of about twenty Turks rushed our front trenches. At last an effort was being made to break the Anzac line. As No. 3 Subsection was blown in, the men in No. 4 Subsection were cut off from Subsections 1 and 2, but all held stubbornly on. Reinforcements hurrying up to the stricken post could see, by the light of the bursting shells, the garrison clinging doggedly to the hillside. Some of the men off duty quickly clambered up the break-neck tracks. Led by the gallant Major Quinn, the defenders pushed forward in short rushes until they were once again sheltering in the broken front-line trench of Subsection 3. The party of Turks were now isolated within the post; barricading both ends of their little section of trench, they clungto the shelter of the traverse and recess. It was now breaking dawn. The machine guns on Russell's Top and Pope's Hill swept the region in the front of Quinn's with a devastating enfilade fire; but showers of bombs indicated that the Turk was still close up to the post. Major Quinn, realizing what his post meant to Anzac, warned his men for a counterattack. Presently, the observers on Pope's and Plugge's Plateau saw the little band clamber on to the parapet, and with bayonet and bomb hurl themselves into the enemy's ranks, which momentarily wavered, then broke and fled. Back filtered the garrison, to realize that their beloved leader was mortally wounded, killed in the defence of the post that bore his immortal name.
The Turks did not attack again. Anzac was still intact. But imprisoned in our lines were sixteen brave Turks, who, in the confusion after the explosion, had stormed our front-line trench. They could not be reached by bombs, but an enterprising soldier persuaded them to surrender. Hesitatingly, out they came. They had been taught to distrust "these cannibals from the South Seas," even as we had been warned against falling into Turkish hands. With many salaams and ingratiating bows they filed down the pathway, somewhat disconcerting an R.E. officer by solemnly kissing his hand.
The Turks opposite Quinn's never neglected their opportunities. Their mine explosion made a fair-sized crater between the two front-line trenches. Next morning the periscope revealed a blockhouse built of solid timbers planted in the crater. This, being a direct threat to Quinn's, was too much for the section of New Zealand Engineers, who, with the men of the 4th Australian Brigade, had held the post from the first week. Two adventurous sappers volunteered to creep out across the debris of No Man's Land and demolish the menace by means of gun-cotton. This they accomplished with great skill, destroying the blockhouse and killing the occupants. The Turk, however, was persistent. Time and again he roofed over the crater; but with hairbrush bombs—two pounds of gun-cotton tied on to a wooden handle—with kerosene, benzine, and other gentle agents in the art ofpersuasion, the Turkish garrison were kept most unhappy, even though they were all promoted to the rank of corporal. About this time it was learned that the Ottoman soldiers had christened this set of trenches "the Slaughterhouse," but it must be said that the Turks operating in No. 3 Section, especially opposite Quinn's, earned the respect of all who fought against them.
Early in June the New Zealand Infantry Brigade took over this No. 3 Defence Section. The posts once held by General Monash's famous 4th Brigade were now garrisoned by men from Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury and Otago. The New Zealand Engineers still kept up their sapping and mining. The No. 1 Company had been on duty without relief from the landing, until relieved by the No. 2 Company, which arrived on June 3, and took over the sapper work within the section.
"The Agony of Anzac."
A periscopic view of No Man's Land was a terrible sight—littered with jam tins, meat tins, broken rifles and discarded equipment—every few yards a dead body and hosts of buzzing flies. Chloride of lime, with its hateful associations, was scattered thickly on all decaying matter, and the scent of Anzac drifted ten miles out to sea. In this fœtid atmosphere, with the miners on both sides burrowing under the posts like furtive rabbits, hand-grenade throwers carrying on their nerve-racking duels, stretcher bearers constantly carrying out the unfortunate ones, digging and improving the trenches under a scorching sun—is it any wonder that the men of Anzac were looked at almost pityingly by the reinforcements and the rare visitors from Helles and the warships? Let one of these visitors speak:—
"The soul of Anzac is something apart and distinct from any feeling one gets elsewhere. It is hard to write of its most distressing feature, which is the agony it endures. But it is quite necessary, in justice to the men, that this should be said. There is an undercurrent of agony in the whole place. The trace of it is on every face—the agony ofdanger, of having seen good men and great friends die or suffer, of being away from home, of seeing nothing ahead, of sweating and working under hot suns or under stars that mock. Let there be a distinct understanding that the agony is not misery. The strong man bears his agony without misery; and those at Anzac are strong. What the men endure should be known at home."
"The soul of Anzac is something apart and distinct from any feeling one gets elsewhere. It is hard to write of its most distressing feature, which is the agony it endures. But it is quite necessary, in justice to the men, that this should be said. There is an undercurrent of agony in the whole place. The trace of it is on every face—the agony ofdanger, of having seen good men and great friends die or suffer, of being away from home, of seeing nothing ahead, of sweating and working under hot suns or under stars that mock. Let there be a distinct understanding that the agony is not misery. The strong man bears his agony without misery; and those at Anzac are strong. What the men endure should be known at home."
It is true that the Australians and New Zealanders did not altogether realize how badly off they were. The Turk had said a landing was impossible—yet a landing had been forced. The Turk had boasted he would drive the infidel into the sea—the perspiring daredevils refused to be driven. Lack of water, lack of ammunition, monotony of food, rebellious stomachs, the loss of brothers and friends—all these things the men of Anzac triumphed over. The two young nations had found their manhood on these barren Turkish hillsides. Whatever our enemies and the benevolent neutrals thought, the Australian and New Zealand Army was confident in itself, confident in its leaders, confident in the wisdom of the High Command that deemed it necessary to prosecute the enterprise.
A Sortie from Quinn's Post.
Lying along the flank of the Turkish communications, the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps was a constant thorn in the side of the enemy troops journeying to reinforce the Ottoman army in the Krithia zone. The enemy kept a large general reserve with which he could reinforce his troops at either Krithia or Anzac. When the British attacked on the southern sector it was the duty of the Anzac troops to simulate an attack in force, so preventing Turkish reinforcements being sent from opposite Anzac to the south, and by making frequent sallies causing the Turkish commander to become uncertain in his mind as to the real attack. But always, in the first few months, Anzac was "playing second fiddle to Helles."
A Scene in Monash Gully[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.A Scene in Monash Gully.As the Turkish snipers at the head of Monash Gully could enfilade stretches of the road sandbag traverses were built at the most dangerous points.
[Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E.
A Scene in Monash Gully.
As the Turkish snipers at the head of Monash Gully could enfilade stretches of the road sandbag traverses were built at the most dangerous points.
On June 4 the redoubtable soldiers at Helles made another great attempt on Achi Baba. The Anzac troops co-operatedby threatening the Turkish defences in the direction of Gaba Tepe, and by two raids, one on the trenches opposite Quinn's, the other on German Officers' Trench.
At first it was the custom to capture the first-line trench and to endeavour to keep it. In practice this was rarely successful. The front line of a trench system is generally lightly held; a surprise attack by determined troops can almost rely on being successful if the element of surprise is availed of. But to take a trench is one thing; to hold it another. Remember that the rest of the front line is still held by the enemy, who, working from traverse to traverse, can bomb down it. The second and third lines are also intact, with good communication trenches leading from them to the broken firing line. Bombers can also work down these communication trenches; ammunition, food and water, and (most important of all) hand-grenades, can arrive in unlimited numbers and in comparative safety. All of these things required by the attackers lodged in the enemy's trenches must come over the bullet-swept, shrapnel-torn surface of No Man's Land. By the end of a day, unless reasonable communications can be provided, the troops who so easily captured the hotly-contested position find that they must choose between annihilation or retreat. So it was raiding grew up. This appealed more to the primitive instincts of man—the sudden dash into the enemy, the attempt to achieve the maximum amount of damage in the minimum time, and to get to the home trench again before the enemy reinforcements could arrive. This method was particularly valuable when it was considered necessary to destroy the entrances to enemy galleries, to interfere with the progress of enemy saps, and to obtain prisoners for identification by the Intelligence Department.
The sortie from Quinn's Post on June 4 was a typical example of the early method. If ever an attack was organized to succeed this one was. Eager volunteers from the Auckland and Canterbury Battalions were selected to carry out the work, and at 11 p.m. a heavy artillery fire was to be directed on the surrounding communication trenches. An assaulting party of sixty men was to dash across the thirty yards of No Man's Land, take the opposing trench and transpose theTurkish parapet. Two working parties were detailed to follow the first line. These men carried filled sandbags with which to build a loopholed traverse at each end of the captured trench; other parties were to commence two communication trenches from the new work to the old. The 4th Australian Infantry Brigade was held in reserve.
In the dark, the eager groups made ready to carry out their hazardous task. It is a strange impulse that prompts thoughtful men to face death so eagerly. But up there in the gloom of the dark Gallipoli night, at the very salient of the Anzac line, only twenty yards from a stubborn foe, these daring young infantrymen carefully examined their rifles and hand-grenades, finally adjusting their equipment, and peered at their wristlet watches slowly ticking off the leaden-footed minutes. Precisely at 11 p.m., Nos. 1 and 2 Batteries on Plugge's Plateau and Walker's Ridge joined with the 4th Australian Battery in shelling the Turkish communications. Our howitzers near the beach dropped shell after shell in the trenches leading to Quinn's. The 21st (Jacob's) Mountain Battery added its contribution to the din. Under cover of this noise and the darkness the two groups of attackers crept over the parapet of Quinn's, across the wreckage of No Man's Land, and fell on the Turkish garrison before the alarm could be sounded. A few Turks were bayonetted and twenty-eight taken prisoners. But every minute of darkness was priceless. About seventy yards of trench had been taken, the parapet shifted over, and the flanking traverses commenced. Now the Turks opposite Courtney's commenced to enfilade the captured position with machine-gun fire—the Australian party attacking German Officers' Trench had not been successful. Presently the Turkish counter-attack commenced. Bombs were showered on the working parties struggling to complete the traverses and communications. It was obvious that when daylight came the trench would be difficult to hold, especially if the machine-guns opposite Steel's Post were not silenced. The work in the captured trench was now complete, and the Australians were asked to carry out another attack on German Officers' Trench. This sortie failed about 3 a.m. An hour after, abomb and fire counter-attack by the enemy destroyed our flanking traverses, wrecked the overhead cover, and pushed our men back, step by step, until we held barely thirty yards of captured trench. When dawn came the Turks became more insistent, the machine-gun fire increased in intensity, and the trench was filled from end to end with bursting hand-grenades. Our men were now taken in front and in flank by skilful grenade parties, until, at 6.30, we were finally driven down our new communication trenches to our old front line. Our gains were nil; our casualties numbered 137, including one officer and thirteen men killed. Lieut.-Colonel C. H. Brown, who as Brigadier-General Brown, was later killed in France—one of the most popular and capable officers of the New Zealand Staff Corps—was, as officer commanding Quinn's Post, severely wounded by a Turkish hand-grenade.
The Bomb-proof Shelters at Quinn's PostThe Bomb-proof Shelters at Quinn's Post.The hillsides were so steep that a sufficient number of men could not be accommodated near the front line. Round cricket-ball hand grenades would bound downhill and annoy the troops, so these bomb-proofs were built. The high ground on the left of the picture is Pope's Hill.
The Bomb-proof Shelters at Quinn's Post.
The hillsides were so steep that a sufficient number of men could not be accommodated near the front line. Round cricket-ball hand grenades would bound downhill and annoy the troops, so these bomb-proofs were built. The high ground on the left of the picture is Pope's Hill.
Eventually Quinn's became the stronghold of the line. This was not accomplished in a day or without enormous labour. But, inspired by their officers—particularly the new commander of the post, Lieut.-Colonel Malone, of the Wellingtons—the men of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade and the New Zealand Engineers made Quinn's Post comparatively safe. Iron loopholes were put in, bombing pits constructed, and wonderful bomb-proof shelters built in terraces on the hillside. It was a tremendous work. Because of the pitiless heat and the incessant sniping, the troops watched and waited during the day; but as soon as it was dark the working parties carried on their backs the sandbags, timber, iron, ammunition, hand-grenades, water and food, up that shrapnel-swept Valley of Death in order that Quinn's Post might be safe.
The Last Attack on Anzac.
Day by day the soldiers clinging to their posts at Anzac were filled with speculations as to the progress made at Helles. Great bombardments seemed to be of daily occurrence. Sometimes we could fancy that the great clouds of dust and smoke were rolling appreciably nearer. On June 27/28 the masses of smoke and flame seemed greater than ever. Then we learned that Helles was being attacked,and we were asked to take off a little of the strain. The extreme right of our line was now held by the 2nd Australian Light Horse Brigade, supported on the right by the veterans of the heroic early-morning landing—Maclagan's 3rd Australian Infantry Brigade. These units carried out dashing attacks on the extreme right. The diversion was entirely successful, and drew formidable Turkish reserves towards Anzac.
Indeed, as the hours slipped by, it seemed that the object of the Light Horse and Infantry was more than achieved, for it was reported that more and more of the finest Turkish regulars were being concentrated opposite Anzac.
On the night of June 29, about 9.10, the enemy expended thousands of rounds ineffectually against our extreme right—evidently firing at nothing in particular, as most of the bullets sailed aimlessly out to sea. This was the Turk's usual method of advertising an attack somewhere else. Sure enough, during the night that attack developed opposite Pope's and Russell's Top. The 3rd Light Horse Brigade (consisting of the 8th, 9th, and 10th Regiments) were now taking turns with the New Zealand Mounted Brigade in No. 4 Defence Section. The machine guns were never taken out of the line, Australian and New Zealand guns staying in even when their respective brigades were withdrawn to "rest."
In the moonlight, about an hour after midnight, the Turk, calling on his God, surged forward to the attack on No. 4 Section. In the half light the machine gunners found the range, and mercilessly cut up the attacking waves. But they were not to be denied. On and on they pressed, right up to the parapets. Several Turks bravely jumped into our trenches and were killed. They certainly were game. Around Pope's, too, they threw wave after wave, which faded away under the hail of lead.
On the Nek we had constructed several trenches, which were not yet joined up. Down between these new trenches came the enemy, only to be assailed with a cross-fire which almost annihilated the attack. Further to the left, General Russell had an excellent secret sap—a trench with no parapet to advertise its existence. Working round our left flank, theenemy blundered into this concealed trench, and lost over 250 men. Nowhere was the line broken, and the attack melted away.