CHAPTER VIII
THREE WEEKS
April 28 (Wednesday).—I am writing this in the shelter of my little dug-out, with the big guns roaring away like billy-o and the rifle, maxim, and shrapnel bullets pitching all round. One is comparatively safe in a deeply cut dug-out; if you shove only your head up some sniper lets go at it. And thisbehindour own trenches. We aren't likely to die ofennuihere, anyway—nor old age.
Heard that the Turks are mutilating our dead and wounded, but haven't seen anything of it myself. Strange yarns going the rounds that some of our chaps have been indulging in reprisals. "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" is the motto of the men fromAustralia and New Zealand, so if the enemy has been playing up in a way of that kind he'll get his own back—with interest. Wounded coming in steadily. Tried to get a few hours' sleep last night. Got one. Spent the night trenching, or sapping, rather. Engineers don't need rest seemingly.
Infantry holding the enemy all right now. Very big Turkish gun shelling the warships at long range. Doesn't seem to be making much of it. Heard that theLizziesank a Turkish transport yesterday. Rifle fire not quite so heavy just now. Heard that the British Tommies were advancing strongly, driving the enemy down on us. Just had orders to go on trenching at "Quinn's Post" to-night, advancing new saps and making a new advanced fire trench. Raining hard, a cold rain. No coat or blanket. Sure to be pretty miserable.
29th.—Came back to dug-out at 1.30 a.m., very wet, very cold, very miserable. All sticky with mud. Got some sleep.
Weather cleared up later. Battle still going on, we holding the enemy safely. Went on sapping at "Quinn's," in four-hour shifts. Very lively and "jumpy" work—enemy crawling up at dark and firing at fifteen to twenty feet range. Periscopes now being used, made in most cases from glasses cut from large mirrors taken from the ships. These periscopes don't last many hours at this part of the line, as a rule, and many nasty scalp wounds have been received through the glass being shattered by rifle fire. We have had to make them as small as possible—simply a lath with two small pieces of mirror about two inches by one. In some cases, even, a walking-stick with the centre cut out has been used with good results. Miss my overcoat and blanket greatly, the nights being cold. Haven't seen them since we discarded our packs at the landing.
30th (Friday).—Still the same: battle going on. Sapping continued under difficulties. Stench from enemy's dead lying near thetrenches very bad. Fed up with continuous sapping work. Tucker improving a bit. No mail yet arrived. Heard that Goorkhas had landed to assist us. Removed to new ready-made dug-outs further up the hill. Came back again on hearing that the late owner had been shot while lying in it. Message of congratulation from Lord Kitchener to Colonial troops. British Tommies reported to be advancing strongly, and due to join us to-morrow night. First bombs thrown into our trenches to-day—the cricket-ball variety fitted with time-fuses. We amused ourselves by making "catches" of these bombs and slinging them back into the Turks. It was lively work, and certainly exciting. I'd much rather play cricket on the Auckland Domain, however. RUM to-night—the first issue since landing. It went down slick.
May 1 (Saturday).—Sapping: still sapping. Getting quite close to enemy, their nearest trench being now only about twenty feetdistant. Plenty of Turkish bombs to enliven the time. One I picked up yesterday and pulled the fuse out of was sent down to headquarters for inspection. On my asking to have it back—I thought of making an ink-bottle out of it, or a spittoon—I was informed that it was now Government property, but that I mightas a favourget it back again. Shan't let the next one I get hold of fall into the hands of the Government! Turks attacked our right flank in force, but beaten off by Australians after suffering heavy loss. Our machine-guns simply mowed them down in hundreds. Things looked bad for a bit as the enemy shrapnel got well home into the open ditch that is supposed to be a trench, and our losses were heavy. Also, some fresh troops (not Anzacs, thank heaven!) sent up to help our fellows didn't play the game, letting the Australians down badly. Why the dickens do they enlist boys of seventeen in some of the Home corps? They are only in theway when it comes to cold-blooded bayonet work.
Some of our fellows are now partially deaf owing to the all-fired row that goes on day and night. Changed camp to-day, shifting to other side of "Shrapnel Gully," about a quarter of a mile away from "Quinn's." Made a boss dug-out for four—myself and three mates. While eating dinner a piece of shell as large as my hand (No. 11 in gloves—when I wear them!) bumped straight into our happy home, just grazing ——'s back. Made ourselves fairly snug with sandbags, etc. Have now got a greatcoat (late owner past caring for such things), but no blankets. Got our first whole night's sleep last night since landing, rather broken owing to unusually cold night following extremely hot day. Snipers very busy; one said to have killed over a dozen of our chaps to-day down at a water-hole in the "Gully."
May 2.—Fight still going on: 8th day of it.Shell fire not so heavy, but rifles talking away as merrily as ever. Very trying in trenches, owing to stench from dead men. Read the following scrawled in blue pencil on a cross made from biscuit-box wood just outside our camp: "In loving memory of 29 brave soldiers of the King." We are living practically on a big graveyard. Our dead are buried anywhere and everywhere—eveninthe trenches. It takes a lot of getting to like. Had a boncer breakfast this morning, firewood being fairly plentiful. Haven't had a wash, my clothes or boots off, since we landed eight days ago. Wonder what I look like! Made a road for mules from valley up to firing line, following a winding course. Came back to camp and heard that a big general advance is to take place to-night, commencing at 7 p.m. My section is to be divided into two half-sections, each under command of a non-com., and appointed to a separate unit. My party appointed to the 16th Battalion, Australian Infantry. Sureto be a hot picnic. Wonder how many of us will draw rations to-morrow!
May 3.—Am back in camp again with a smack in the right shoulder and a useless right arm—and jolly glad to be back, too. Am the only tenant of our dug-out, my three chums being knocked over—all seriously wounded. Can just manage to write.
We had a crook spin. The big guns of the ships and the shore batteries started the ball by shelling the enemy heavily and driving him from his front trenches with some loss. We followed the infantry to the attack at dusk, advancing up a dark and evil-looking gully or nullah, the track being only fit for amphibious monkeys to follow, and so narrow that single file had to be adopted. We didn't enjoy ourselves a little bit, as added to the natural difficulties of the passage—we were up to the thighs in mud and water one minute and scrambling over roots, branches, and rocks the next, all in pitch darkness—we were sniped at point-blankrange all the way, losing several men. At last, after a very trying time, we gained the top and found that the leading companies of infantry had carried the position and were engaged in digging themselves in under one of the hottest fires I ever ran up against. Our little half-section of about eighteen men were ordered to spread themselves along the line, their duties being to advise and assist the infantry. We did so, and at once men began to fall. The Turks were only about fifty yards away, and although it was dark they could see our chaps fairly well against the background of stars. In a few minutes half our lot were down, I myself being put out of action by a bullet glancing off a pick and getting me in the right shoulder. At the same instant my water-bottle was shot through and the rifle blown from my hand. It wasn't at all a healthy climate. It was just a shambles. Men were lying killed and wounded as thick as sardines in a tin. I remember apologising toa poor chap for treading on his face. But he didn't mind—being dead.
Although my wound was only slight, it settled me for doing any more work, so I was sent back with a message to the O.C. in camp. I shan't forget that trip in a hurry. Owing to having to make a detour to avoid the reinforcements that were coming up, I cut across the back trail without knowing it, and almost walked into the Turks, who were out on a flanking game. One son of a gun tickled the back of my neck with a bullet, and another put one so close to my ear that I felt the organ to make sure it was still hanging to my head. That was good enough for me; I wasn't greedy; so I just ducked and ran, never stopping till I had to —— head down in three feet of mud at the bottom of a ten-footdonga! However, I got my bearings at last, hit the trail, and staggered into camp, more dead than alive, at about midnight. Delivered my message, had my wound dressed, and after a pannikinof tea turned in and had a smoke and an hour or two of sleep. Shoulder hurt a bit.
The captured position was held all day, but owing to being commanded by some rising ground on which the Turks were strongly entrenched and from which they were able to enfilade our chaps, it was abandoned at dark. Hard lines after the heavy losses. But life is cheap here. Heavy firing towards evening. Stayed in my dug-out smoking and nursing my arm.
May 4.—Very heavy firing all along the line most of last night. Distant bombardment by fleet heard. Stayed in camp all morning, but went up to "Quinn's" in the afternoon and supervised infantrymen sapping. Very short of engineers now. My section is just about wiped out. Enemy threw in a regular cloud of bombs, then attacked strongly. They succeeded in getting a footing in the front line trenches, and some hard hand-to-hand bayonetfighting had to be put in before they were cleaned up. Shoulder won't be "fit" for some time; however, I can always boss up others although doing a loaf myself. Had a very "scratch" tea to-night.
May 5.—Up to sap again at 3 a.m., and sat rifle in hand on a cartridge-box for four solid (and weary) hours keeping guard. Turks only a few yards off. If one had showed his nose over the parapet I doubt if I could have raised the rifle to my shoulder; however, the working party didn't know that. Nothing very lively happened. Sap head ran into a dead Turk, who was so tied up in the scrub that he couldn't be shoved to one side except at great risk. Only one thing to do: we sappedthroughhim. It wasn't the nicest job in the world, seeing the time he'd lain there. Came back to poor breakfast. Could have done with a "go" of rum. Didn't get any.
In the afternoon bossed up a whole company of London infantrymen at road-making.There is plenty of variety in the engineering line I find. My company certainly didn't know how to go about the job they had taken in hand, and they had never even heard of a corduroy road, while their ideas on the question of drainage would have shocked Noah. Their officers thought they knew all there was to know, but really didn't know enough to know how little they did know. I had a slight difference of opinion with those officers. I got my own way.
The country here is rather pretty—deep gullies and cañons with high hills clothed with dwarf oak (we called it holly) and firs; in the gullies one runs across the arbutus, the flowering thorn, a kind of laurel, and a wood that resembles the New Zealandkaraka. Wild flowers bloom in profusion; my dug-out is gay with a little pink rambler rose that threatens to engulf it in its tendrils. The growth is rapid. We have evidently struck the right time of year for visiting Gallipoli. In a waythe Peninsula reminds me of parts of the North Island of New Zealand.
In the way of bird and animal life there are larks, doves, pigeons, hawks, turkeys, cuckoos, and tortoises. The latter animals caused our sentries many anxious moments. I shouldn't care to calculate how many tortoises were "halted," nor how many were shot at. They were big fellows as tortoises go, and when a chap got a squint of one mooching along the sky-line in the moonlight, it was all the odds to a tin-tack he let go at it.
In the insect line we could count quite a tidy little collection. We had flies by the hundred billion. They were everywhere, from the heaps of dead to the cook's pots. Put jam on a biscuit and it was always a sprint to your mouth between you and the flies, the event usually ending in a dead heat. There were other insects not quite so plentiful as the flies, but even fonder of our company—at least, they stuck close to us; they're notusually named before ladies, except in the pulpit.
We had snakes, scorpions, centipedes, and big hairy tarantula spiders; and when they elected to drop into the trenches things got fairly lively. We liked them just about as much as they liked us. A state of war existed between us: we took no prisoners.
——AND (a very big "and")there is gold on the Gallipoli Peninsula. There is. It's there—for I myself panned off the dirt and found the colour! I know the spot, and some day, perhaps, I'll have a try for the big seam. I have a fairly good idea—— But that's another tale.
There are other things in our trenches that we don't care overmuch to have as company. Maggots—maggots crawling in battalions about a chap's feet and dropping from the sides of the trench down his neck. Maggots from the dead! You can't sit down hardly without flattening a dozen or two out. It's bad forone's uniform. Something will have to be done, or we'll all be down with disease. It's a good job we were all inoculated against enteric, anyway. The smell is worse than a glue factory. We have dead Turks right on our very parapets. Only this morning a bullet pitched into one lying close handy, and the putrid matter (of the consistency of porridge) was "spattered" right over us. They say you can get used to anything. Well, maybe so. But it's hard to get used to that. No news yet, and no way of sending any.
Later.—First part of a mail arrived at last. Two letters for me. Am going to try to get letters sent off; they will be strictly censored, of course. The sergeant of my section killed to-day—a really nice fellow and a general favourite. I'll soon have no chums left at all. Enemy is now using explosive bullets. I have seen their effects.
Driven out of sap every time we entered it by bombs. One burst within three feet ofme without doing any harm. Firing going on as usual. Managed to get a change of socks to-day. Needed them. Rumoured that the British or the Turks have presented an ultimatum, calling on one or other to surrender within twenty-four hours—no one seems to know which. Also that the French have taken a big fort at the Narrows. Air full of rumours—and projectiles. Big guns almost splitting the drum of my ear as I write. Very heavy Maxim and rifle fire this evening. Quite sick of it all; the Turks take a lot of beating. Weather beautiful; sea calm and of an azure blue colour. Rum issued to-night. Big event. Things looked brighter afterwards.
May 6.—Heavy cannonade, but lighter rifle fire. Lots of bombs. Fellows getting quite deaf. Was down at beach to-day. Navy men very busy landing stores, etc. Officers (Navy) very fine fellows, and both they and their men swear by our chaps. No side or laddy-da about the officers. One—a lieutenant—informedme that our fellows were born fighters: "But you want to give them plenty to do," he went on; "for when they're not fighting they're looking for trouble." Afterwards I overheard him describing the landing to a newcomer. "They're not soldiers," he finished up, "—— they're not men! They're just wild devils let loose from hell! The instant the boats grounded over they went, head first, came up with fixed bayonets, and rushed those machine-guns like runaway steam-engines! It was the most reckless, grandest slap-dash charge that I or any other man ever witnessed. Oh, they're beauties to scrap! And their vocabulary would raise your hair!"
May 7.—Weather still beautiful. Position just the same. Fire from all arms still going on. Enemy sapping in line with us. More of my section laid out; only a few left. Being reinforced by volunteers from our mounted crowd—drivers, etc.
May 8.—Heavy fire all night. Fancy considerablewaste of ammunition. Rather quiet day. Some artillery fire from enemy trying to locate our guns, which are well hidden. Mail supposed to come in to-morrow. Hope so, as many letters are due. Posted a letter myself to-day—in a haversack hanging to a bush. Hope it goes all right. Rum to-night. Very welcome, but short ration. I wonder why?
May 9.—Very quiet night, with occasional bursts of rifle fire. Enemy tried hard with his guns for one of our batteries this morning, but failed to get it. Notice posted that British warships have forced the Narrows and are in the Sea of Marmora. This should hasten the end. Hope so, as we are all fed up with sticking to the trenches here. Rumoured that the Russians are in the Bosphorus: don't believe it. Heavy, distant cannonade last two days and nights. Fleet, I suppose. As I write hardly a shot being fired. Arm still queer. Got a short rifle to-day in place of the old longone I selected. (Prefer long rifle for good shooting, sniping, etc., but short one better for the trenches.) There is a history attached to the one I have now. It was picked up just outside a new sap by one of our chaps, and when found the bayonet was fixed and a single shot had been fired, the cartridge case still remaining in the breech. A dead Australian was lying beside it.
Memorable event: had a shave to-day, the first since leaving the transport. The razor was a borrowed one; my beard was like a mop. Both suffered.
Was detailed as one of party sent to supervise infantry digging trenches. Went out at 8 p.m. and came off at midnight. Did nothing but lie about and get miserably cold, as I had no greatcoat with me. Infantry made another attack on position they captured last Sunday and retired from. Carried it again—and again retired, owing, it is said, to lack of reinforcements at the critical moment. Truth is, it isalmost impossible to bring up reserves quickly enough owing to the nature of the country. Hard lines, all the same, considering what it costs to capture these entrenched positions.
May 10.—Fairly quiet. Artillery still throwing shrapnel over our camp and right down to beach. Did another four hours to-day—from 8 a.m. till 12 noon. To go out at 8 p.m. again. Tobacco and cigarettes issued to-day, the latter in bad condition—very mouldy. Went out from 8 till 12 midnight to fix a pump and deepen a well. Had no tools, it was pitch dark, dare not light even a match, so did nothing but lie around and growl. Mail in.
May 11.—Heavy rifle fire all night. Was out from 8 a.m. till noon bossing up Royal Marines at trench-digging. Quiet morning, but heavy rifle and artillery fire in the afternoon. Yesterday, I was told, shrapnel pitched all round me in camp, tearing up the ground and smashing a rifle close to my head.I took no notice of it. I was asleep. Nice safe camps we have in these parts! The 29th Division (Irish) reported to be only two miles from our right flank to-day. Report confirmed later. Good news; something ought to be doing soon. Heavy naval firing going on in the distance. Heard that 4·7" naval guns had been placed in position on "Pope's Hill", to our left. Wish they could lay out the Turkish guns—especially "Asiatic Annie"—that keep warming us up in our dug-outs; we are getting tired of the beggars. Heard that theLusitaniahad been submarined near the Irish coast. Poor devils!—it's a one-eyed kind of death to be drowned like rats in a trap. I'd a dashed sight rather be shot any day. "Commandeered" a can of butter, some cheese, jam, and potatoes, so have lived high to-day. "Virtue rewarded"—the stuff just smiled at me as I was passing the commissariat. I couldn't resist its blandishments. Anyway, the Quartermaster is alwayscomplaining about the "non-keeping" qualities of his provisions. And, when all's said and done, it's simply a raiding of the Philistines. How does the water get into our rum? Some rain to-day, cloudy, overcast skies, and not at all warm.
May 12.—Rum—and not watered! Rained all night; place a quagmire this morning. Got hold of some sacks and managed to sleep more or less dry. Have neither waterproof sheet nor blankets. Heard that all our blankets left behind on ship had been taken for wounded. If that is where they have gone we don't mind; sick men need them more than we do. Rather quiet night; expect both sides too wet and miserable to worry about killing each other. Didn't go out last night; thought I might as well stay in and nurse my shoulder, which is doing real good. First night in for longish spell. Went out this morning and bossed up a lot of marines at trench-digging. It rained all the time and the ground was as sticky asfish-glue. Climbing up to "Quinn's Post" in this kind of weather is like the Johnnie inPilgrim's Progresswho found his swag growing bigger and heavier the farther he went. You can hardly lift your feet owing to the amount of Turkey sticking to them, and for every two yards you advance you slide back more than one. And coming down is just as bad, although a deal speedier. You start off gingerly, sit down suddenly—squelch!—and when your wind comes back you find yourself at the foot of the hill with a sniper biffing away at you and enjoying the joke. It's quite funny—to read about.
My clothing is getting sadly in need of repair. Nothing to repair it with, however. Enemy's shells passing barely twenty feet above my dug-out—a bit too close for comfort. Thinking of shifting my camp. To-day the cap from one of our own shells passed clean through a man in a dug-out just above my own, and injured another. Our gunners do thingslike that of a time: perhaps they imagine we need a little more excitement—or have a perverted sense of humour. Heavy distant firing: the fleet at it again, I suppose.
May 13.—Came in at midnight after a spell of sapping—or, rather, watching others sap. Went on camp fatigue carrying water, fetching firewood for the cooks, etc. Can do this all right with one good arm. Otherwise had a light day. Australian Light Horse Brigade arrived from Egypt (minus horses), and now manning trenches as infantrymen. Employed my spare time in deepening my dug-out and fixing things up generally in my camp. Tremendous firing by ships last night; something doing. Fairly quiet day, with occasional bursts of rifle fire by both sides; also a little shelling. Noticed the following painted on some of our shells: "Turkish Delight: distributed free!" Went out at 8 p.m. to dig communication trench from "Shrapnel Gully" up to firing line on "Pope's Hill."
The position was a very exposed one, as we had to carry the trench up over a ridge open to enemy fire at fairly close range. It couldn't possibly have been done in daylight, so we were sent out to get a hustle on and complete the job before morning. Even as it was the Turks must have taken a tumble to our game, for they kept up a hot fire on the crest of the ridge all night long. As I couldn't use my arm I was put on sentry-go, and spent hour after hour lying in the scrub with the bullets hissing and spitting in the air round my head or knocking sparks out of the flinty soil. It wasn't a bit jolly. We ran into a dead man while we were working—a Ceylon chap—who must have lain there since the landing. One of our chaps went down to camp and fetched up a padre—a fine old sort—who stood up and read the Burial Service under fire, and remained on the ridge until we had buried the corpse. I forget the parson's name, but I fancy he was the same man who worked at stretcher-bearing allthrough the first night in company with a Roman Catholic priest. There was a yarn going the rounds about this priest having taken part in a bayonet charge near "Quinn's": he denied it, but—well, from what I saw of him, I feel more than half inclined to believe it. We also found a dead Turkish officer. He had evidently been sketching round about these parts, his sketching wallet containing many drawings lying beside him. I wasn't lucky enough to get away with a specimen.
May 14.—Quiet morning for this locality. A little shelling plus some bombing. Enemy now taking to writing messages on pieces of paper, wrapping a stone in the paper and chucking the things into our trenches. They seem to imagine we have lost touch altogether with the world at large, and have taken it on themselves to furnish us with news. We are surprised to learn that fourteen British battleships have been sunk by the forts at the Narrows, that Egypt is in a state of revolt, and that theGermans are preparing to invade England. They asked us to treat our prisoners well, and they would do likewise with theirs. In a further message (an ultimatum) they called on us to surrender with our whole bag of tricks inside sixteen hours, and on receiving our reply—more forcible than elegant—some merry dog chucked back the following: "Well, if you won't surrenderwewill. Suppose we both surrender!"
Were served out with a new kind of biscuit to-day. It looks and tastes like stale bread, but when soaked in water and fried in fat it goes down well. I now save all the fat I can from my morning rasher of bacon, storing it in a jam-tin. I find it useful for cooking "chips" (when there happens to be any "spuds" about); also for greasing the bolt of my rifle. Speaking of bacon reminds me of a little picnic that happened a few nights ago. Two of us were passing the A.S.C. stores down in the "Gully." There was much storeof jam, bacon, cheese, etc., piled in boxes on one side of the track. Now the back of this lordly stack of cases rested against a high but slender bank. In front was the camp of the attendant satellites. The thought seemed to strike us both at the same time. We acted on it right away. Putting in a short drive through the bank we struck oil—spelled, in this case, J-A-M. Since then I have done another little bit of prospecting round about that claim. I feel like having ham for breakfast; therefore I shall pay another visit to our drive, remove the bush that secures its entrance, and——!
Our stores are mostly brought up from the beach by mules, Indian drivers having charge of the stubborn animals. I am bound to say, however, these Indians seem able to do anything with their charges. They are very fond of them, too, and they (the mules) look fat and well cared for. I believe the drivers would almost as soon die as see such a fate overtake their beasts. Here is a case in point which Iwitnessed myself: a shell exploded bang above the track on which a transport team was making its way beachward. A mule staggered and came down on one knee, then righted itself. The driver examined the limb carefully, and finding the damage only amounted to the loss of a bit of skin, he threw his arms round the animal's neck and kissed it on the nose. I couldn't help wondering if he'd have kissed his wife in a like case.
Weather growing hotter daily. Flies increasing all the time. Flowers coming into bloom fast. Eased my feet by changing socks from left to right—the only change I could manage. Rockets thrown up by the Turks last night. Wonder what the game is? Fancy homing pigeons are being used by the enemy, as I have noticed quite a lot flying about lately.Maybe wild ones, of course. Went on trenching same as yesterday.
May 15.—Heavy firing during night. New Zealanders stormed enemy's trenches to theleft of our position last night and held them against strong counter attacks. Reported loss 500. A good bit of work well carried out. Antwerp and Ostend reported to be recaptured. Submarines said to be cruising off Anzac Cove, and all transports have left in consequence. H.M.S.Lionsaid to have been torpedoed; didn't know she was nearer than the North Sea. Went up to "Quinn's" at noon to go on sapping, etc. Some sniping, but little damage. Wish we could get the dead buried: the stench takes a lot of getting used to. Fairly quiet night.
Three weeks to-morrow since we landed! As lively a three weeks as any man could wish for. It seems like three months. But it's got to be done. And if I am lucky enough to get through this slather-up I mean to live a man of peace for the rest of my natural: get on to a tidy little place, grow spuds and cabbages, and raise early chickens—and kiddies!