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Title: New Zealanders at Gallipoli
Author: Waite, Major Fred
Language: English
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Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book.

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  The New Zealanders

  at Gallipoli



  _Adjutant Divisional Engineers, N.Z. & A. Division, 1914-15_

  _Chief Engineer Instructor, N.Z.E.F. Training Camps, 1916-18_



  _Printed and Published under the Authority of the
  New Zealand Government by_



To the Memory of Our Glorious Dead.

    _They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
    Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
    They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
    They fell with their faces to the foe._

    _They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
    Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn,
    At the going down of the sun and in the morning
    We will remember them._

    --_Laurence Binyon_


  The New Zealand Popular History Series, by Sir James Allen,
  K.C.B.                                                               v.

  The New Zealanders of Anzac, by General Sir Ian Hamilton           vii.

  To My Old Comrades, by General Sir Wm. Birdwood                     xv.


     I. The Concentration of the Expeditionary Force                    1

    II. The Voyage to Egypt                                            14

   III. Training in Egypt                                              32

    IV. The Defence of the Suez Canal                                  47

     V. The Rendezvous at Mudros                                       64

    VI. The Anzac Landing                                              74

   VII. The First Week                                                 86

  VIII. At the Head of Monash Gully                                   102

    IX. The Battle of Krithia                                         119

     X. The Coming of the Mounteds                                    132

    XI. Supplying the Needs of the Army                               152

   XII. Midsummer at Anzac                                            166

  XIII. The Preparations in July                                      182

   XIV. The Battle of Sari Bair                                       192

    XV. The Battle of Kaiajik Aghala                                  245

   XVI. Preparing for the End                                         259

  XVII. The Evacuation                                                278

 XVIII. The Return to Anzac                                           294


     I. The Main Body Transports                                      302

    II. N.Z. and A. Division Transports                               303

   III. Main Body Establishments                                      304

    IV. The Men of Anzac. Decorations and Mentioned in
 Despatches                                                           307

     V. The Place-Names of Anzac                                      317

    VI. A Gallipoli Diary                                             325

        Trench Map of Anzac at end of Volume.

The New Zealand Popular
History Series.

These popular histories of New Zealand's share in the
Great War are designed to present to the people of New
Zealand the inspiring record of the work of our sons and
daughters overseas.

It was recognized that the Official History would
necessitate considerable research, would take a long time to
write, and then must be largely a study of strategy and
tactics; but something--that would be concise and interesting,
not expensive, and available at once--seemed desirable. It
was decided to avoid the style of an Official History and
select as writers soldiers who had themselves fought with
the N.Z.E.F. through the several campaigns; soldiers
recognized by their comrades as authorities on the campaigns
with which they deal; soldiers who themselves have
experienced the hopes and fears, the trials and the ultimate
triumph of the men in the ranks.

The volumes--of which this story of Anzac is the first
published--are four in number:

Vol. I. "The New Zealanders at Gallipoli," by Major Fred
Waite, D.S.O., N.Z.E., who served with the Main
Body and the N.Z. & A. Division as a Staff
Officer of Engineers.

Vol. II. "The New Zealanders in France," by Colonel Hugh
Stewart, C.M.G., D.S.O., M.C., who served through
the campaigns in Gallipoli and France with the
N.Z. Infantry.

Vol. III. "The New Zealanders in Palestine," by Lieut.-Colonel
C. Guy Powles, C.M.G., D.S.O., who as a
Staff Officer of the N.Z. Mounted Rifles served
through the campaigns in Gallipoli and Palestine.
The material for this volume was collected by
Major A. Wilkie, W.M.R.

Vol. IV. "The War Effort of New Zealand," will deal with:

(a) The minor campaigns in which New Zealanders
took part;

(b) Services which are not fully dealt with in the
campaign volumes;

(c) The story of the work at the Bases--the
efforts of our Women abroad and in New
Zealand, our Hospitals, the raising and the
training of the men.

Without rhetoric, without needless superlatives--for the
stories do not need them--these volumes are placed before
the people of New Zealand in the hope that a fuller realization
of the difficulties encountered and eventually triumphed over
will act as an inspiration to those of us who were not
privileged to fight for the cause of Freedom on the
battlefields of the World.

  [Illustration: signature]

  Minister of Defence.

  Parliamentary Buildings,

The New Zealanders of Anzac.

As I was on the point of starting to pay a long-promised visit to the
Commander-in-Chief of our Army of the Rhine, a cabled message from the
Government of New Zealand was put into my hands--a message asking me to
write a Preface to the Gallipoli volume of the History of New Zealand's
Share in the Great War. This preface was to be written and posted to
Wellington without loss of time, as the work had already gone to press.

When I set out for the Dardanelles on Friday, March 13, 1915, to
command an unknown army against an unknown enemy, in an unknown
country, that was an original undertaking. To write a preface to
an unknown book being printed in another hemisphere--to write it
from memory--in the train and in a hurry, that also is an original
undertaking, and it is necessary to begin by setting forth these facts
in order that my many omissions and shortcomings may have a better
chance of forgiveness.

Crossing the German frontier, with the edict of the New Zealand
Government still in my pocket, I got out to stretch my legs at the
first stop. The name of that railway station was Düren. Hardly had
I alighted when my eyes fell upon the letters, "N.Z.M.R.," quite
unmistakably affixed to the shoulder-strap of an officer also standing
on that platform. Since the year 1915, this particular combination of
capital letters has exercised upon me a certain fascination--I have to
go right there. So I went, and asked the wearer of the shoulder-strap
if he had been at the Dardanelles.

"I have, indeed," he said. "I am Lieut.-Colonel John Studholme.
I served in the Dardanelles under you, and now I am the last New
Zealander in Germany."

"You speak figuratively," said I. "You mean you are one of the last."

"Not so," he replied. "I am not one of the last; I am the last one."

Now here, thought I to myself, is a queer thing! I am told to write a
preface to a history of an Army, and I meet the last item of that Army
which did so much to win the Rhineland, in Rhineland; the last man
of that superb band who were raised from a population of one million
and lost fifteen thousand killed; whereas, to take other standards,
the Belgians, justly famous as having fought so long and so valiantly
for the freedom of Europe, lost thirteen thousand killed out of a
population of seven millions. Once again, too, there came to me the
thought of their losses at the Dardanelles:--

  Total strength landed              8,556 all ranks
  Casualties in killed and wounded
      (excluding sickness)           7,447

These thoughts and the coincidence of meeting Colonel Studholme, gave
me courage. I had been thinking I could not do justice to my theme, and
that I must regretfully decline. Now I resolved to take my courage in
both hands and go ahead; so here, with the help of my personal diary, I
revive memories of my meeting with the first New Zealander.

On March 29, 1915, I motored across from Mena Camp (where I had been
reviewing the Australians) to Heliopolis. There was a big dust storm
blowing. Godley commanded. I wrote down on the spot, "These fellows
made a real good show; superb physique. Numbers of old friends,
especially amongst the New Zealanders."

Next day, March 30, I wrote to Lord Kitchener, "The physique of the
rank and file could not be improved upon." Also: "They are all as keen
as possible, and will, I am certain, render a very good account of
themselves if the conditions encountered give them a fair chance."

Now, the force that I had seen and admired on March 29, 1915, had
sailed from far-away New Zealand early in October, 1914, so each
private soldier had already travelled over land and sea further than
Ulysses during his ten years' Odyssey, and further than Christopher
Columbus during his discovery of America; and they had voyaged thus,
not for gold or glory, but to help the Old Country and to succour the
weak and the oppressed.

When to-day we look round upon our wrecked and devastated world, we
can see that neither the War, nor the Peace has added to the moral
structure of Governments. The one great, enduring asset is this: that
the rank and file of mankind, and especially the rank and file of New
Zealand, let no private interest stand between them and their eagerness
to strike a blow for the Right.


[_Photo by Guy_]


Otago Mounted Rifles.

(_Died from wounds_).]

So the New Zealanders sailed away from their own safe islands, towards
danger and death, and first cast anchor at Albany, Western Australia, a
pleasant, old-fashioned spot. The little force consisted of one brigade
of Mounted Rifles, a Brigade of Infantry, and one Brigade of Artillery;
and there, at the south-western point of the neighbouring continent,
they joined the 1st Australian Division and headed, under convoy, for
Egypt, arriving at Alexandria early in December.

On the formation of Birdwood's Corps, a brigade of Australian Light
Horse and a brigade of Australian Infantry were incorporated with them
to form what was known as the New Zealand and Australian Division.
This formation was trained under General Godley at Zeitoun till April,
1915, during which time a small portion of the New Zealand Brigade
took part in the repulse of the Turkish attack on the Suez Canal in
February. Both Sir John Maxwell and General Godley assured me, at
the time of my inspection in March, that the behaviour of the New
Zealanders during this trying period of straining at the leash was in
every way excellent.

Soon after my inspection, the last stage of the journey was begun, and
leaving the mounted troops behind them, the infantry and artillery
took ship and set sail for Mudros. There, for the short time remaining
to them, they worked very hard at rowing, embarking, disembarking,
&c., until they were almost as handy as bluejackets in the boats.
Much of the success of the landing was due to this period of special

On April 25, 1915, a date regarded in the Near East as the most
memorable of the Great War, the New Zealand Brigade landed early in
the day and fought valiantly on the northern or Suvla side of the Bay.
Everything was strange and astonishing to these boys from the green,
well-watered islands of the South--the enemy, the precipices, the
thirst, the wounds and death around them; but no veterans have ever
done better than they did during those first few hours. Then it was
that they carried, occupied and held, under steadily-increasing shell
and machine-gun fire, what was afterwards known as Plugge's Plateau
(from Lieut.-Colonel Plugge, commanding the Auckland Battalion), and
Walker's Ridge (from Brigadier-General Walker, General Birdwood's
Chief-of-Staff, who commanded the New Zealand Infantry Brigade at the
Landing in the absence of Brigadier-General Earl Johnston, sick). These
are the prosaic facts of a feat of arms which will endure as long as
heroic poetry and history are written or read.

An extract from my diary, dated April 25, H.M.S. "Queen Elizabeth":
"They are not charging up into this Sari Bair Ridge for money,
or by compulsion. There they are--all the way from the Southern
Cross--earning Victoria Crosses, every one of them."

An extract from my diary dated April 26, H.M.S. "Queen Elizabeth":
"Passed on the news to Birdwood: I doubt the Turks coming on
again--but, in case, the 29th Division's feat of arms will be a tonic."

"I was wrong. At 3 p.m., the enemy made another effort, this time on
the left of our line. We shook them badly, and were rewarded by seeing
a New Zealand charge. Two battalions racing due north along the coast
and foothills with levelled bayonets. Then the tumult died away."

On May 5 I brought the New Zealand Infantry down to Helles. They had
been fighting hard at Anzac, making sorties against the Turks, but I
could not do without them in the attack I was about to make--a three
days' and nights' battle it turned out to be--on Achi Baba. In my diary
is this entry:--

"May 7, 1915--At 4.30 I ordered a general assault: the 88th Brigade
to be thrown in on the top of the 87th; the New Zealand Brigade in
support; the French to conform. Our gunners were to pave the way for
the infantry with what they thought they could afford."

In the deadly struggle which ensued, in the night-long conflict, in the
supreme effort of the next day, the New Zealanders gained great glory,
as was gratefully acknowledged by me to General Godley at the time.

That same month, the New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade was called
in to the Dardanelles. We wanted every New Zealander we could
get. The brigade, destined to become so famous, was commanded by
Brigadier-General Russell, now Major-General Sir Andrew Russell,
K.C.B., K.C.M.G. They came dismounted, torn in two betwixt grief at
parting with their horses and a longing to play their part on the
Peninsula. They turned up, as is their way, in the nick of time, and
were put into the trenches at once.

On one of the first days of July, the Maoris appeared upon the
Peninsula. General Godley had informed me that all ranks were anxious
to have them, so I cabled to Lord Kitchener, and I have always been
thankful that he permitted them to come along. They were received with
open arms by their compatriots, and I may say here at once that they
proved themselves worthy descendants of the chivalrous warriors of the
olden days, and remembered, in the fiercest battles, the last words of
Hongi Hika: "Be brave that you may live."

[Illustration: LIEUT.-COLONEL W. G. MALONE

Wellington Infantry Battalion

(_Killed in action._)]

No doubt the history to which these words are a preface will tell the
tale of the trench warfare of June and July; here I will only remark
that the New Zealanders helped themselves to a liberal allowance of all
that was going in the way of bombs, onslaughts, and generally, hard

On August 6, took place the great attack on Sari Bair. To the New
Zealand Mounted Rifles (Brigadier-General Russell) fell the honour
of covering the assault, and the New Zealand Infantry Brigade
(Brigadier-General Earl Johnston) formed the right assaulting column.
During the four days' desperate fighting, which included night marches
through the worst country imaginable, steep, scrub-covered spurs, sheer
cliffs and narrow winding ravines, these two brigades and the Maoris
wrested from a brave and numerous enemy the footing on the Ridge which
they held till the bitter end.

Brilliant leadership was shown by Lieut.-Colonel A. Bauchop, commanding
the Otago Mounted Rifles, and Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Malone, Wellington
Battalion, during this battle, wherein Corporal Bassett, of the
Divisional Signal Company, won a well-earned V.C. I lay a very special
stress on the deeds of Bauchop and Malone. These two heroes were killed
whilst leading their men with absolute contempt of danger--Bauchop
after having captured what was afterwards known as Bauchop's Hill,
and Malone on the very summit of Chunuk Bair. Both Bauchop and Malone
were soldiers of great mark and, above all, fearless leaders of men.
Where so many, living longer, have achieved distinction, it is quite
necessary that New Zealand should bear the names of these two gallant
soldiers in tender remembrance.

Of the New Zealanders who survived, Russell was beyond doubt the
outstanding personality on the Peninsula. Steady as a rock, with a
clear head and a firm character, he belongs to the type of soldier who
will shoulder responsibility and never leave either his men or his
commander in the lurch.

Chaytor, who was Assistant-Adjutant-General, did excellently well also,
though, through being wounded, he did not have full time to develop
merits which afterwards became so conspicuous in Palestine.

The losses incurred by the brigades from this terrible and prolonged
fighting for the key to the Narrows of the Dardanelles, were cruel. On
September 21 and 22, Russell had further victorious fighting when he
and General Cox took Kaiajik Aghala; soon afterwards the brigades were
sent down to Mudros to rest and to recruit. Reinforcements arrived in
due course, and, in a shorter time than would have seemed possible, the
formations were ready again and keen as ever to go on. But meanwhile,
in October, events had occurred which put an end to the forward
fighting and extinguished the Dardanelles enterprise. The first was the
sending of two of our Peninsula Divisions to Salonika. The second was
an order from Home that nothing serious in the way of fighting should
be undertaken. The third was the advent of a new Commander-in-Chief
who was opposed to the whole of the Dardanelles idea. From that date,
therefore, until the evacuation, there was no further attack. When the
tragic end came, the New Zealanders, steadfast as ever, held the post
of honour, and General Russell and his rearguard were the very last to
leave the Northern theatre of our operations.

Owing to the conditions under which my preface is being written, it
will be understood that any attempt to make a list of distinguished
names would be hopeless. I have just put down the half-dozen best
remembered in full confidence that the historian will make good my
failure in the body of the book. But there is one more officer I
must mention, for although he is not a New Zealander born, he had
the advantage of living there and getting to know both islands long
before the War. I refer, I need hardly say, to Sir Alexander Godley,
who commanded the New Zealand and Australian Division during the
Dardanelles campaign. He has devoted some of the best years of his life
to New Zealand, and with all his courtesy and charm of manner, has
never had any traffic with indiscipline or inefficiency. If he wants
his monument, let him look round at the glories won by the division in
the laying of whose foundations he played a leading part.

One last word: the New Zealanders have been feared by the enemy; in
quarters they have made themselves beloved. Wherever they have been
billeted, all the civilians say: "We want to have them again."

[Illustration: signature]

  Lieutenant of the Tower of London

  G.H.Q., Army of the Rhine,

To My Old Comrades.

I have been asked to write a foreword to "THE NEW ZEALANDERS AT
GALLIPOLI," and it gives me the greatest pleasure to do so,
providing, as it does, an opportunity of recording the affection
and admiration I have, and shall always have, for those who were my
comrades on the Gallipoli Peninsula.

It was as a comparatively small force that we started our soldiering
in Egypt towards the end of 1914. And I am sure that no soldier was
ever prouder of his command than I was when, on the orders of Lord
Kitchener, I took over the command of the Australian and New Zealand
troops who were then arriving from their homes.

Not a moment of the time spent in Egypt was wasted, for all ranks
instinctively realized what was before us, and put their best work into
the necessary training. I doubt if any but those who were present can
conceive all that this training meant to us, and in what wonderfully
good stead it stood us when the time of trial came at Gallipoli. When
that time arrived, we felt that we were a really formed military body,
and not merely a collection of units hastily thrown together and
without any military cohesion. During that period, a strong feeling of
esprit de corps was engendered throughout the force, and perhaps most
important of all, a spirit of discipline, the necessity of which was
realized, was inculcated in all ranks.

I so well remember on that early morning of April 25, 1915, the intense
keenness and anxiety on the part of all to get ashore and capture
the Turkish positions without a moment's delay; and it was, I know,
a source of great regret to the New Zealanders that it was to the
1st Australian Division that the honour of the first landing fell.
Transports, however, followed each other rapidly, and the day had not
worn long when the New Zealand infantry were ashore and attacking
what afterwards became known as Russell's Top, on the left of the
Australians. There and thereabouts it was destined to continue this
fighting through thick scrub for many a long day, and to prove to the
Turks how impossible it was to throw such men back into the sea, as
they had confidently anticipated doing.


  [_Photo by Bartlett & Andrew_


A short foreword like this is no place for a history of the doings of
the force, to which I know full credit will be done in this and other
volumes depicting New Zealand's share in the Great War. I will only
say here what complete confidence I always had--without one moment of
hesitation--throughout the campaign in the bravery, the steadfastness
and the efficiency of the New Zealand troops. Their discipline was
admirable, while never have I seen troops more willing or determined.

I would that I could here mention by name even half of those who were
such real comrades to me, such as General Godley, Colonels Russell,
Napier Johnston, F. E. Johnston, Chaytor; Colonel McBean Stewart, of
the Canterbury Battalion, who, to my great regret, was killed on the
day of the landing; and Colonels Findlay, Mackesy, and Meldrum, of the
Canterbury, Auckland, and Wellington Mounted Rifles respectively.

There are two others who gave their lives on the Peninsula, and whom I
would especially record.


One of the most difficult points which we had to hold was known as
Quinn's Post. The Turkish trenches there were certainly not more than
ten yards from our own, and it can easily be imagined how the battle
raged furiously between the two systems. The gallant Quinn, after whom
the post was named, had been killed, and, later on, the Australians
were replaced in their turn by the Wellington Battalion under Colonel
Malone. This officer at once set himself the task of making his post
as perfect and impregnable as he could, and in this task he fully
succeeded. I shall never forget the real pleasure it gave me when
visiting the post from time to time to realize the keenness and energy
which Colonel Malone put into his work, and on every visit I found
myself leaving it with greater confidence that, come what may, Quinn's
Post could never be taken by an enemy, however strong. Shortly after
this, Colonel Malone was, to my deep regret, and to that, I know, of
his many comrades, killed while leading his battalion most gallantly in
the main attack on Sari Bair on August 8. A thorough and keen soldier,
his loss was great to the whole force, and I personally felt I had lost
not only an excellent officer, but a really true friend.

The other officer to whom I cannot refrain from making especial
reference, was Colonel Bauchop, of the Otago Mounted Rifles: a more
gallant and cheerier gentleman never lived. Always full of high spirits
and courage--ready to undertake any enterprise, and refusing to
acknowledge difficulties, he was just the type of man wanted to ensure
the maintenance of high morale in such a campaign as we were carrying
out at Gallipoli. For a very long time Colonel Bauchop held command of
our extreme semi-detached outposts, and I know how proud he was of the
great game of war in which he played so prominent a part. Perfectly
fearless, he came through the fighting unscratched until August 8, when
he was killed at the head of his regiment, leading it in a gallant
charge on the extreme left of our old position. Surely it would be
impossible for any commander not to be devoted to such men as these!

What seemed to me as one of the best features of our fighting at
Gallipoli was the mutual confidence and esteem which it engendered
between the New Zealand and the Australian soldiers. Before this,
they had had little opportunities of knowing each other. Going
round, as I did, the trenches of all, it was to me a constant source
of satisfaction and delight to find New Zealanders and Australians
confiding in me the highly favourable opinion which, apparently to
their surprise, they had formed of each other! May such a feeling
continue for all time, to the great advantage of the British race in
the Southern Seas.

I am sure that the New Zealand troops would not wish me to conclude
this foreword without mentioning the British Navy, to whom we all owe
so much, and memories of whom will remain for ever with all those who
served alongside of them.

On our return from Gallipoli to Egypt, in 1916, the arrival of the New
Zealand Rifles Brigade and the large reinforcements which had been
sent from New Zealand enabled us to expand the original New Zealand
Expeditionary Force into a complete division--than which, I can say
with confidence, no finer or better organized division served in
France. I had the honour to take this division with me to the Western
Front in April, 1916. But, alas! I was not to have the honour of
retaining it long under my command, for on the reconstitution of the
Australian and New Zealand divisions, it was decided that the latter
should leave my army corps: I need scarcely say it was a matter of the
deepest personal regret to me.

I sincerely wish all my old comrades happiness and success. None of us
are ever likely to forget the times we spent together on Gallipoli. We
sincerely mourn for those who so willingly gave their lives for the
great cause in which we were fighting; but we know they have not died
in vain, for they have ensured freedom and right for our children and
our children's children. New Zealand may well be--as I am sure she
is--justly proud of her magnificent sons, who so bravely upheld her
flag and fought for her honour on the shores of the Gallipoli Peninsula.

[Illustration: signature]


  [_Photo by the Author_


    "The valiant dead that gazed upon the skies,
    And slept in great battalions by the shore."--_Leon Gellert._

The New Zealanders at Gallipoli


The Concentration of the Expeditionary Force.

The pioneer settlers of New Zealand left the Mother Country for many
reasons, but primarily because they wished for a freer existence. They
certainly did not choose an easy path for themselves. They could have
settled in English-speaking countries comparatively near, but they
deliberately left England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland for a land
thirteen thousand miles away--a land covered with virgin forest and
inhabited by a proud and warlike native race.

In communities that governed themselves according to their own
advanced ideas, away from the baneful influence of large cities and
the trammelling tendencies of hoary tradition, they wrestled with the
giants of the bush, literally hewing out their homes in the wilderness.
Not sparing themselves, they created a desirable and a healthy
environment for their sons and daughters. Many had given up comfortable
homes in the old lands so that their children and their children's
children might have that freedom of life and thought and speech for
which they themselves had been willing to make so many sacrifices.

Would it be natural, then, when Autocracy and Greed again threatened
the free peoples of Europe, that a young nation born of the early
settlers of New Zealand should stand aloof? A few weeks after the
dreadful tragedy of Serajevo, realizing that the freedom of the world
was again challenged, and recognizing to the full the gravity of the
step, New Zealand placed all her resources at the disposal of the
Mother Land.

The martial instincts of Maori and Pakeha were at once aroused. In the
town enthusiasm was infectious; newspaper offices were besieged, and
eager volunteers thronged the headquarters of each territorial unit;
every shop, office and factory sent its representatives, and before
the services of the Expeditionary Force were accepted by the Imperial
Government the lists were full to overflowing.

From the country men crowded in. The musterer and station owner alike
forsook their flocks; the bushman put away his crosscut and axe; the
flaxmill hand left swamp and mill and hurried to the nearest railway
station. Quiet men up on the hillside watched the train coming across
country with the eagerly awaited newspapers. The strain of waiting was
unendurable. With the call of Old England throbbing in their ears, they
left their stock unattended in the paddocks and swelled the procession
to the railway station. Here eager crowds discussed the situation. It
was instinctively recognized that Britain must stand by France and
Belgium, and when the news of that momentous decision did come the
great wave of enthusiasm swept anew over the country side.

The Mobilization.

In those early days of August, the naval position in the Pacific was
shrouded in mystery. Rumour was alarmingly busy. It was possible that
the German Pacific fleet of heavily armed cruisers might appear at any
moment off the New Zealand coast. Their only superior in these waters
at the outbreak of war was the battle cruiser "Australia," the "New
Zealand," of course, being in the North Sea. On August 6, a message
from the Secretary of State for War was received by His Excellency the
Governor: "If your Ministers desire and feel themselves able to seize
the German wireless station at Samoa, we should feel that this was a
great and urgent Imperial service...." A force of 1,413 men immediately
volunteered from territorial units in Auckland and Wellington, and
sailed for their unknown destination on August 15, convoyed by three
obsolescent "P" class cruisers--"Philomel," "Psyche," and "Pyramus";
joined by H.M.A.S. "Australia," H.M.A.S. "Melbourne," and the French
cruiser "Montcalm" at New Caledonia, the expedition proceeded on its
way, occupying German Samoa on August 29 without firing a shot. Thus
early in the Great War were New Zealand soldiers, supported by the
allied navies, the first to take possession of German territory in the
name of King George V.


  [_From the collection of Sergt. C. B. Gibbs, N.Z.A.O.D._


  1st Canterbury Yeomanry Cavalry M.R.
  6th Manawatu M.R.
  11th North Auckland M.R.
  Railway Battalions, N.Z.E.

  2nd Wellington West Coast M.R.
  7th Southland M.R.
  12th Otago M.R.
  Post and Telegraph Corps, N.Z.E.

  3rd Auckland M.R.
  N.Z. Army Nursing Service.
  8th South Canterbury M.R.
  N.Z. Field Artillery
  N.Z. Staff Corps.
  N.Z. Permanent Staff

  4th Waikato M.R.
  9th Wellington East Coast M.R.
  Field Engineers, N.Z.E.
  N.Z. Veterinary Corps.

  5th Otago Hussars M.R.
  10th Nelson M.R.
  Signal Service, N.Z.E.
  N.Z. Chaplains Dept.]

On August 7, 1914, the New Zealand Government cabled to the Imperial
authorities offering the services of an Expeditionary Force. On August
12 the offer was accepted, and preparations were made to have the force
ready to embark for Europe on August 28. More and more men offered
their services. Those declared unfit by the doctor in Auckland caught
the train to Wellington, and if not successful there, went on and on
until they found a loophole. Family men of fifty-five shaved their
faces clean and enlisted with an "apparent age" of thirty-five. One
man, with an artificial eye and minus two fingers, struggled into the
N.Z.M.C.; while two gallant souls--veterans of previous wars--enlisted
and were accepted as quartermasters, even though they had but one arm

A partial mobilization had already taken place at each regimental
headquarters. The drafts, consisting mostly of men who had served in
the Territorial Force and in previous wars, were sent to district
concentration camps. The Auckland Mounted Rifles, Auckland Infantry
Battalion, and the No. 1 Field Ambulance of the New Zealand Medical
Corps were quartered in Alexandra Park, Auckland. The Wellington
Mounted Rifles and the Wellington Infantry Battalion camped at the
Awapuni Racecourse, near Palmerston North; here, also, were organized
the N.Z. Field Artillery, the Field and Signal Troops of New Zealand
Engineers, the company of Divisional Signallers, and the Mounted Field
Ambulance, the men for these units being drawn in proportion from the
territorial troops of the four Military Districts. Addington Park,
Christchurch, was the rendezvous for the troops of the Canterbury
Military District--the Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regiment and the
Canterbury Infantry Battalion. The Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment and
the Otago Infantry Battalion concentrated in Tahuna Park, near the
Ocean Beach, Dunedin.


  [_From the collection of Sergt. C. B. Gibbs, N.Z.A.O.D._


  1st Canterbury Regiment.
  6th Hauraki Regiment.
  11th Taranaki Rifles Regiment.
  16th Waikato Regiment.

  2nd South Canterbury Regiment.
  7th Wellington West Coast
  12th Nelson Regiment.
  17th Ruahine Regiment.

  3rd Auckland Regiment.
  8th Southland Regiment.
  13th North Canterbury and Westland
  N.Z. Maori Contingent.

  4th Otago Regiment.
  9th Hawkes Bay Regiment.
  14th South Otago Regiment.
  N.Z. Army Service Corps.

  5th Wellington Regiment.
  10th North Otago Regiment.
  15th North Auckland Regiment.
  N.Z. British Section.
  N.Z. Medical Corps.]

The territorial system of compulsory training was still in its infancy,
but it was considered advisable to retain the territorial distinctions.
Each of the four Military Districts was asked to supply one regiment of
mounted rifles and one battalion of infantry. Each territorial regiment
and battalion supplied to the Expeditionary Force a squadron and a
company respectively, and these units retained their badges and the
customs of their parent organizations.

The organization of the Expeditionary Force was that of the
headquarters of a division, divisional troops, a mounted rifles
brigade, and an infantry brigade. The Auckland, Wellington, and
Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regiment made, with the Field and Signal
Troops and Mounted Field Ambulance, a complete mounted brigade. The
Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment became divisional cavalry, and did not
form part of the brigade. The four infantry battalions--Auckland,
Wellington, Canterbury, and Otago--made a complete infantry brigade.

The characteristic slouch hat, with the brim down all round, was
adopted by the whole force; but the Otago Mounted Rifles, the New
Zealand Field Artillery, and the Wellington Infantry Battalion wore
their hats peaked and with four dents. After the evacuation of the
Gallipoli Peninsula the entire New Zealand Division wore peaked hats,
but the New Zealand Mounted Rifles remained faithful to the old style.
A further distinguishing mark was the different coloured puggaree for
each branch of the service. The troopers of the Mounted Rifles wore
khaki and green; the gunners, red and blue; the sappers, khaki and
blue; the infantry, khaki and red; the Army Service Corps, khaki and
white; and the men of the Field Ambulance, khaki and maroon.


  [_Photo by Guy_


Equipping the Force.

The equipment of the force was no easy matter, though valuable material
was obtained from the Territorial Force, which was being fitted out
at the time. Most of the mounted riflemen brought their own horses to
the place of concentration. If the animals were suitable, they were
paid for, and became the property of the Government, but each man
was allowed to ride the horse that he had brought. The saddles and
equipment were mostly made in the Dominion. Day by day more material
came to hand, and the men became more accustomed to manoeuvring in
troops and squadrons; gradually but surely the mounted regiments
evolved from very keen individual horsemen and shots to efficient
military units. With the traditions of the South African campaign and
the enthusiasm of the New Zealander for a good horse, the excellence of
the mounted rifles was not at all surprising.

The field artillery were fortunate in that they had the nucleus
of batteries in the officers and men of the Royal New Zealand
Artillery--professional soldiers, who, in time of peace, trained
the territorial batteries and garrisoned the artillery provided for
coast defence. Thanks to the energy and foresight of the dominion
artillerists, the old 15-pounders had been replaced by modern
18-pounders, and more fortunate still, New Zealand had, in 1914, some
of the newest 4.5 howitzers, which guns above all others were to prove
their worth in the closing days of April, 1915. The horses for the gun
teams were procured mostly in the Wellington District--some were well
broken, others were broken to chains in the plough, a number had hardly
been handled at all; but the drivers set to with a will, and soon the
roads of Palmerston North were enlivened with spirited six-horse teams
jingling along with their businesslike guns and limbers.

The sappers of the field troop were drawn in equal proportions from the
territorial field companies. There were no divisional field engineers,
only a mounted brigade troop. In order to keep up with the cavalry,
light collapsible boats were substituted for the heavy pontoons of
the ordinary field company. No boats were available in New Zealand,
the intention being to pick them up in England when the Expeditionary
Force landed there. The signal troop and divisional signallers were all
territorials, most of the operators being highly skilled men from the
Post and Telegraph Department.

Owing to the large numbers available for selection, the infantry were
a magnificent body of men. Born of freedom-loving parents in a free
country, nurtured in a land of plenty with a climate unsurpassed on
earth, it is not surprising that the trained New Zealander is modelled
like a Greek statue. To see a battalion of infantry bathing in the
Manawatu River was a wonderful sight. The clean blue sky, the waving
toi-toi on the fringe of native bush, the river rippling and sprawling
over its gravelly bed, the thousand beautiful athletes splashing in
the sun-kissed water, made an ineffaceable impression. The New Zealand
infantry soldier trained at Alexandra Park, Awapuni, Addington, and
Tahuna Park has long since proved his courage and steadfastness to be
equal to his undeniable physique and fitness.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.O._


The matter of transport was a difficult one. As yet the New Zealand
Army Service Corps of the Territorial Force was not organized. Men and
horses were forthcoming, but suitable waggons were hard to procure.
Eventually a number of waggons--some suitable and some otherwise--were
purchased. Many were only a quarter-lock, and the angry drivers were
sometimes heard to murmur that no place but the wide deserts of Egypt
would have been sufficient to turn--much less manoeuvre--in!

The personnel of the New Zealand Medical Corps was from the outset
most efficient. The senior officers had mostly seen service in former
campaigns; the men were enthusiastic territorials and keen young
medical students who had forsaken their classes when the call came.

In all branches of the service discipline was very strict. Men realized
that if they transgressed they would cease to be members of the Main
Body. There was no crime. All ranks understood they were chosen to
represent New Zealand in the eyes of the world.

Passed by the doctor, the recruit was fitted out with that wonderful
receptacle, the soldier's kit bag. This was soon filled to overflowing
by the combined efforts of a paternal Government and committees of
enthusiastic ladies. All the uniforms and purely military kit came from
the ordnance stores, but the woollen stuff--socks, underclothing and
woollen caps--were the handiwork and gift of the women of New Zealand.
Surely never before in history had an army so many socks and shirts!
It must be admitted that in the first flush of enthusiasm some good
folks showed more energy than skill in the matter of shirt making. The
soldier is nothing if not adaptable, so he cut off the superfluous
portion of sleeve. One was not surprised that the sergeant-major,
wanting the men for physical drill, daily shouted "Fall in the kimonos."

Waiting for the Escort.

Through August and the first weeks of September the training
and equipping went on. Four transports were lying alongside the
Wellington wharves, and two ships at each of the other three ports
of embarkation--Auckland, Lyttelton and Port Chalmers. Day and night
carpenters laboured fitting up the troop and horse decks.

On September 24, the people of Wellington assembled at Newtown Park to
witness the farewell parade of the divisional troops, the Wellington
Mounted Rifles Regiment, and the Wellington Infantry Battalion. After
an inspection by His Excellency the Governor, the Prime Minister and
the Minister of Defence, the troops marched through cheering crowds
to the transports, and at half-past five that evening all but the
"Maunganui" pulled out into the stream, ready to sail early next
morning to join the Auckland ships at sea. During the evening of
the 24th the four ships from Lyttelton and Port Chalmers joined the
Wellington quota in the harbour. All night anxious relatives made
endeavours to get aboard the vessels in the stream to say a last
farewell or deliver a parting gift, while the people of Wellington went
betimes to bed to awaken early and see the fleet steam out.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


But early next morning a wireless message recalled H.M.S. "Philomel,"
the "Waimana," and the "Star of India," which had left Auckland the
night before. In Wellington the seven transports in the harbour
rejoined the "Maunganui" alongside the wharves. The mounted units and
horses were disembarked and scattered to camps round Wellington, there
to remain until a more powerful naval escort was available.

For three weeks the troops, chafing at the delay, were exercised in
musketry and route marching. At nights they crowded into Wellington
for a little amusement. The women of Wellington rose splendidly to
the occasion. Concert parties entertained the men every night in "U"
shed on the wharf. At this time the well-known Sydney Street Soldiers'
Club was started. The soldier realizes that he may never come back,
and that sacrifice he is prepared to make willingly. He sings and is
happy because he feels--though often in an indefinite way--that he did
the right thing in enlisting. But the times of waiting--whether at the
base or in the front-line trench--are most irritating. Being a healthy
animal, he must be doing something. It is here that soldiers' clubs,
managed by understanding, sympathetic women, prove of inestimable
value. For their untiring efforts the women of Wellington are entitled
to the thanks of all the mothers of men concentrated in Wellington
throughout the four long years of war.

On October 14, the troops exercising their horses in the surf at Lyall
Bay were delighted to see a big grey four-funnelled cruiser, flying
the white ensign, closely followed by a huge black three-funnelled
monster with the rising sun displayed. Past Somes Island and Evans Bay
they steamed and dropped anchor, proving to be H.M.S. "Minotaur" and
H.I.J.M.S. "Ibuki," the escort which the army was anxiously expecting.

Next day the "Star of India" and "Waimana," escorted by the "Philomel,"
arrived in Wellington from Auckland, and proceeded to water and coal.
The ten transports were now assembled, and the four cruisers made ready
to convoy the precious freight on the first stage of its long journey.
Many are the valuable cargoes that have left these shores, but for the
first time in the history of New Zealand were nine thousand gallant
souls--the flower of the young nation's manhood--going down to the sea
in ships.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


By half-past three on the afternoon of Thursday, October 15, the
mounted units were again embarked. The last good-byes were exchanged
with relatives ashore, and night fell on Wellington Harbour with its
fleet of fourteen historic ships. The morning broke beautifully fine.
The fleet weighed anchor at 6 o'clock. Crowds of early risers saw the
ships go out, preceded by the "Minotaur" and the "Ibuki." The first
division of ships was led by the cruiser "Psyche" and the second
division by the "Philomel." So the watchers on Mount Victoria saw the
long grey line slip silently down the Straits.


The Voyage to Egypt.

While confined to the narrow waters of Cook Strait, the fleet preserved
its line ahead formation, but after passing Cape Farewell the two
divisions of five ships each steamed in parallel lines eight cable
lengths apart. Miles ahead raced the "Minotaur," a speck on the
horizon; the "Philomel" was four miles astern; while on either beam,
six miles away, were the other two cruisers--the "Ibuki" to starboard
and the "Psyche" to port.

The weather was typical of the Tasman Sea, and both men and horses
suffered a good deal from seasickness. Where there were many horses,
particularly on ships like the "Orari," those who were well enough had
plenty to do cleaning the horse decks and setting unsteady animals on
their feet. That only four horses died out of the 3815 on board speaks
volumes for the care taken in selection and the solicitude of the
seasick troopers and drivers.


  [_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.R._


A Great Welcome at Hobart.

After six weary days at sea no one was sorry to see Wednesday morning
break with the rugged coast of Tasmania ahead; little wonder that the
prospect of a three hours' route march on the morrow was received with
jubilation. Next morning it seemed that all Hobart was astir. With
packs up the infantry cut a fine figure. All along the route women and
children showered flowers on the troops. Where-ever a halt was made
the people brought out bunches of beautiful roses, which the soldiers
carried back to grace their none too ornamental quarters. Thousands of
the famous Tasmanian apples were pressed upon the men. Some enthusiasts
presented the artillery with a garland on a pole, which the proud
gunners carried before them as a colour. Back again at the wharf, the
sellers of apples and crayfish did brisk business, and many were the
commissions handed over by the sportsmen aboard to be dealt with by the
celebrated Hobart house of Tattersall. When the gangways were up the
people thronged the wharves, handing up parcels of cakes, sweets and
apples. The regimental bands struck up "It's a long way to Tipperary,"
and the ships pulled out to the accompaniment of tumultuous cheering.

It was three o'clock that afternoon when the ships again put to sea.
The "Psyche" returned to New Zealand, and her place was taken by the
"Pyramus." The long rolling swell common to the Great Australian Bight
again made things very uncomfortable for the horses; to make matters
worse, a thick fog descended, speed was reduced, and every few minutes
the ear was assailed by the blasts of the "Minotaur" syren and the
answering shrieks from the vessels of the fleet.

Gradually the weather moderated and the men became steadier on their
legs. Musketry practice at floating targets was initiated; where there
was room on the crowded decks physical training was carried on, while
the mounted men had their horses with the never-ending stables--it
being recognized that the habit of absolute cleanliness in regard to
both the men's and the horses' quarters should become second nature
before the really hot weather was encountered.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


A private of the New Zealand Medical Corps died on Sunday, October
26, and next day a most impressive burial service was conducted on
the "Ruapehu." At three o'clock she steamed out of her line and took
station in the centre of the parallel divisions. At half-past three,
when colours were hoisted and lowered to half-mast, the troops in
each transport paraded with their bands. The flagship having made the
signal to "Stop engines," the troops on all ships stood to attention,
whereupon the "Dead March" was played, followed by a short funeral
service; the body of the first soldier of the New Zealand Expeditionary
Force to die overseas was reverently committed to the deep. The firing
party having fired its three volleys, the solemn notes of the "Last
Post" floated over the sunlit waters, the flagship signalled "11
knots," and the convoy proceeded on its way.

Young Australia greets Young New Zealand.

Thirteen days after leaving Wellington the New Zealand ships crept into
the spacious harbour of Albany, Western Australia. Here were gathered
innumerable vessels of every line trading in the Southern oceans. Not
painted uniformly grey like our ships, but taken in all their glory of
greens, blues and yellows, they rode on the calm water of King George's
Sound packed with the adventurous spirits of the First Australian
Division. The cheering and counter-cheering, the Maori war cries
and answering coo-ees would have moved a stoic. Young Australia was
welcoming Young New Zealand in no uncertain manner in the first meeting
of those brothers-in-arms soon to be known by a glorious name as yet
undreamed of.

After a few days spent in replenishing supplies, the wonderful armada
put out to sea. The twenty-six Australian transports steamed in three
parallel divisions, being joined a day out by two Westralian transports
from Fremantle. The New Zealand ships retained their old formation, the
two divisions covering off the blank spaces of the Australian convoy.
We parted company from the old "P" class cruisers, but got in return
the two new Australian ships, the "Sydney" and the "Melbourne," long,
snakey-looking craft with four rakish funnels. The "Minotaur" was
still steaming away ahead, while to starboard was our old friend the
"Ibuki," evidently burning bad coal, her three black funnels belching
forth tremendous volumes of the blackest smoke.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


 The padre is the Rev. Canon Taylor, C.F., a frail man with an
 enthusiasm for serving his fellows. He served through the Gallipoli
 Campaign, and at Sarpi Rest Camp was tireless in his efforts to
 rejuvenate the listless survivors from Anzac.]

Great attention was now paid to the masking of all lights by night.
It was known that German cruisers were at large--notably the
"Scharnhorst," "Gneisenau" and "Emden." In order to evade these ocean
highwaymen the usual course was not set through the Indian Ocean. For
the same reason, a strict censorship in regard to movements of ships
prevailed in Australia and New Zealand. At Hobart and Albany the
greatest precautions were taken. Ample proof was ultimately forthcoming
that this trouble was not in vain.

But the convoy was a very cumbersome thing. The cruiser leading and
the cruiser acting as a rearguard were both hull down on the horizon.
There was an Australian transport that most days could do nine knots
with an effort; one or two erratic performers like this sorely trying
the practised station-keepers of the Imperial Navy. Characteristic
sailor messages were being constantly transmitted. The following is
a sample:--"From H.M.S. 'Minotaur' to all transports: The attention
of masters of Australian transports is again drawn to the extreme
importance of keeping accurate station, especially at night. During
last night the Second Division straggled to seven miles, whereas their
line should be three miles in length. The Third Division straggled to
six miles, whereas their line should be three miles and a half. By this
careless station-keeping the masters expose their ships to an increased
risk of being torpedoed by an enemy, and also involve the New Zealand
convoy in the same danger. The New Zealand convoy are keeping stations
at three cables apart in excellent order, and their great attention to
convoy orders as regards reduction of power of lights merits my warm
approval. The 'Medic' and 'Geelong' were signalling last night with
lights visible at least ten miles. I again point out the necessity of
reducing the power of lights by blue bunting or other means."

A strange ship on the horizon always aroused great speculation; never
did a cloud of smoke materialize into a ship but the stranger was
already attended by one of our escorting cruisers. Thus was the R.M.S.
"Osterley" of the Orient line examined, and later passed the convoy on
Guy Fawkes Day, homeward bound, carrying the soldiers' Christmas mails.

An air of expectancy hung over the convoy on Sunday, November 8, for
on that day news arrived of the naval battle off Valparaiso, in which
H.M.S. "Good Hope" and H.M.S. "Monmouth" were destroyed by a superior
German force.

Early that same morning the "Minotaur" signalled to the "Maunganui":
"I am ordered on another service; wish you the very best of success
when you land in France. Give the Germans a good shake-up. It has been
a great pleasure to escort such a well-disciplined force and convoy.

The Triumph of Australia.

The flagship's place ahead was now held by the "Melbourne," with the
"Ibuki" to starboard and the "Sydney" to port.

With the news of the Valparaiso battle and the departure of the
"Minotaur" came word that the Cocos Islands would be passed during the
night, and special precautions were ordered to be taken in regard to
lights. The usual sharp look-out was kept, but the hours of darkness
slipped by without incident. But at 6.30 a.m. the "Melbourne" turned
to port and spoke for a few minutes to her sister ship. By this time
all the transports were aware of the wireless messages from the Cocos
Islands signalling "S.O.S.," "Strange warship approaching." The
Australian transport "Karoo" and the New Zealand transport "Arawa"
picked up the following: "PNX DE WSP DE PNX NE DE NGI PFB DEO," also,
"S.O.S.--Strange warship at entrance. Ignores our remarks--S.O.S.,
S.O.S.," then a long message, apparently in Dutch. These mixed-up
messages, obviously mutilated and jammed by the hostile Telefunken,
provided knotty problems for those whose duty it was to fathom the
mysteries of code and cypher.

[Illustration: THE LAST OF THE "EMDEN."

 While the "Sydney" dealt with the "Emden," the "Ibuki" and "Melbourne"
 lay on the threatened quarter of the convoy. The action took place out
 of the sight and sound of the troops on the transports, which were
 over seventy miles away from the Cocos Group.]

The captain of the "Melbourne," being in charge of the convoy, could
not go to the Cocos Islands, sixty miles away, so ordered the
"Sydney" on this service. By 7 a.m. the cruiser had worked up to her
speed and was rapidly lost to sight. The "Melbourne" came down to the
"Sydney's" place on the threatened flank, and then the attention of the
whole convoy was rivetted on the Japanese cruiser coming across from
starboard around the head of the convoy. As she forged ahead through
the heavy swell a great white wave streamed over her bows, being made
more conspicuous by her pitch black hull and the three black funnels
belching enormous columns of dense black smoke. Tearing through the
indigo Indian Ocean, with her great battle flags streaming blood-red in
the breeze, she became the very personification of energy and power.

With the two cruisers lying handy on the threatened flank, the troops
waited anxiously for news. All realized that just across the horizon a
life and death struggle was taking place. No sound of battle could be
heard but the spluttering of the wireless, from which it was learned at
9.30 that the enemy had been brought to action.

The men could hardly contain themselves for excitement. This was
intensified when, about 11 o'clock, the Japanese cruiser appeared
to steam away in the direction of the fight. But at twenty minutes
past eleven the wireless announced. "Enemy beached herself to prevent
sinking." Restraint was thrown aside. The men cheered again and again.
Messages then chased one another in quick succession: "Emden beached
and done for. Am chasing merchant collier." The cheering burst out
afresh, for this was the first mention of the "Emden." How the New
Zealanders envied the Australians this momentous achievement of their
young navy.

About half an hour later came the story of the price paid for
admiralty--two killed and thirteen wounded. The troops shouted
themselves hoarse when they learned that the "Emden" was ashore on
North Cocos Isle, and had surrendered with her foremast and three
funnels down. The following message was sent from the "Maunganui":
"Many congratulations from the N.Z.E.F. on result of first action of
the Australian Navy." Back came a typical naval answer: "Reply to your
signal of yesterday. Many thanks to New Zealand Squadron for their
congratulations. It is very satisfactory that in its baptism of fire
the superiority of town class cruiser over German town class light
cruiser was so completely established."

Four days after this most memorable day a signal announced that H.M.S.
"Hampshire" was steaming fifty miles ahead of us, and to facilitate
coaling and watering at Colombo, the New Zealand squadron was ordered
to steam ahead of the Australians, who were left in charge of the

The line was crossed on the same day (November 13), and His Deep Sea
Majesty King Neptune, attended by his consort and a numerous suite of
barbers, bears, and orderlies, came aboard each of the transports.
All deference and homage was paid, and the hoary old salt never had a
busier day--eight thousand four hundred New Zealanders paying their
tribute according to their respective popularity with His Majesty's

A Run Ashore at Colombo.

Two days steaming brought the "Hampshire" and her convoy within sight
of Ceylon. This to most New Zealanders was the first far-off view of a
tropical isle. As the ships steamed over an unruffled sea, the troops
drank in the wonderful sight, so refreshing after the tiresome monotony
of the voyage. The little brown fishing boats were thickly sprinkled
over a fleckless seascape--ashore the beautiful buildings resplendent
in a setting of graceful palms. Up the coast and round the breakwater
the squadron picked its way through a flotilla of every conceivable
variety of small craft.

Inside the crowded harbour lay our old friend the "Melbourne" and a
quaint five-funnelled warship--the Russian cruiser "Askold," which we
were later to know so well. The work of the "Emden" had been fairly
thorough--during her career she had sunk sixteen merchant ships, the
Russian cruiser "Jemtchug," and the French destroyer "Mousquet"--and
here in Colombo Harbour were dozens of ships which had been held up,
but were again free to sail the ocean highways.

About half an hour after our arrival, it was rumoured that the "Sydney"
was coming, and sure enough, there were the familiar four funnels with
their little white bands, and closely following her the big "Empress of
Russia" with her cruiser stern. Slowly the gallant ship come round the
breakwater to her moorings. As she passed the New Zealand transports it
was evident that she was, as her captain described her, "nothing but an
hospital of a most painful description." Wounded Germans were lying on
stretchers all over the deck, and on that account the soldiers, though
greatly thrilled and moved by the obvious marks of battle on the ship,
stood respectfully silent at attention.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


The "Sydney" steaming round Colombo breakwater after destroying the

The prisoners, 138 in number, were distributed over the Australian and
New Zealand transports, an officer and half a dozen men being placed
on each ship. Many of them could speak English, having served on
British merchant ships. It then became apparent that the precautions of
darkening lights and a strict censorship had indeed borne fruit, for
on the night of November 8, the "Emden" actually crossed the bows of
our convoy, accompanied by a captured British collier, the "Buresk,"
heavily laden with the best Welsh coal. The raider, knowing nothing
of our presence, arrived off the Cocos group early in the morning,
and sent a party ashore on Direction Island to destroy the cable and
the wireless station, which barely had time to send out the S.O.S.
received by the fleet. The appearance of the Australian cruiser on the
horizon (the Germans took her to be H.M.S. "Yarmouth") was the first
intimation to the "Emden" that all was not well. The German ship put
out to sea and fought her last sea fight, while the armed party ashore
busied themselves with preparing the "Ayesha," a local schooner, for
flight. The "Sydney" had to turn her attention to the collier, which
was endeavouring to escape. On overtaking her, it was found that her
sea-cocks were open, and as she could not be saved, the "Sydney" fired
a couple of shots into her at the water line. Night coming on, the
schooner with her adventurous crew successfully cleared the Cocos,
apparently for the African coast. Such were the facts as gleaned from
the German prisoners.


  [_Photo by Capt. Paddon, O.M.R._


The 138 prisoners were distributed among the Australian and New Zealand

From the transports in Colombo Harbour 200 men at a time went ashore
from each ship; each party being broken up into smaller ones of twenty
men with an officer. Going ashore in the boats we pulled through clouds
of lemon, chrome, and golden butterflies fluttering over the water
in all directions, reminding one of yellow poplar leaves drifting
to the ground in an autumn wind. Once ashore the brilliant colours
and fragrant flower scents seemed like fairyland after the heat and
smell of the horse decks. Along the brick-red sandy roads the rickshaw
coolies pattered with their slouch-hatted loads. Under the shade of the
Eastern trees the soldier snatched one hour of the real joy of living.
Interested parties explored the Buddhist temples, the air heavy with
incense and the scent of many flowers. Down on the Galle Face, where
the cocoanut palms weep over the sea, the revelation of poverty and
mendicity came as a shock to the young New Zealanders--thousands of
beggars, the halt, the lame and the blind--small boys begging pennies,
old men with one foot in the grave complaining in broken English, "No
mother, no father, sixpence please!"


  [_Photo by Guy_


The New Zealand soldier away from home is prodigal with his money,
and the Cingalese and Indian shopkeepers parcelled up many thousands
of pounds worth of gifts, ranging from precious stones and expensive
silks down to the cocoanut-wood elephants and the little green-backed
beetles. The censors never left their desks, so energetic were the
correspondents, but gradually the pile grew less and the mail bags
more swollen; the shouting gangs of dirty coolies passed--basketful
by basketful--the contents of their loaded barges into the hungry
stokeholds; all water tanks were refilled, and on the morning of
November 17, the New Zealand transports, escorted by the "Hampshire,"
headed once again for the deep water.


  [_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.B._


Transferring the "Emden" prisoners to the "Hampshire" at Port Said.]

The Monotony of the Voyage.

In a sense this was the most wearisome stage of the journey, although
there was a little to interest. By day, shoals of flying fish leaped
ahead of the ships, shimmered in the sunlight, and splashed again into
the depths; and in the hours of darkness the stable picket gazing out
of the porthole marvelled at the mass of gleaming phosphorescence. But
the monotony of the warm weather and a placid sea, together with the
reaction after the glorious taste of freedom at Colombo, did not make
for tranquility of spirit. Even the civilian passenger in the first
saloon tires of marvellous seascapes, and ship's food, however daintily
served, becomes repugnant. Pity, then, the poor soldier cramped up
in a transport; necessarily living on monotonous food which he must
help to prepare; tending horses and cleaning up the ship; stiff from
the inoculations designed to protect him in the future, and steaming
steadily on (at a rate of nine knots per hour!) to a destination only
vaguely guessed at. So it was a relief to reach that rocky outpost,
Aden, and to learn that just on the horizon hostile Arabs and Turks
were bent on making trouble. Discomforts were quickly forgotten in the
thrill of nearing battle grounds. Away on those red sands we could
picture Turk and Teuton scheming and planning to get possession of
those priceless water cisterns.

No one was allowed ashore, but the harbour was full of interest.
Nine big vessels packed with South Wales Borderers and Middlesex
Territorials were coaling, on their way to India. The "Ibuki" here
wished us good-bye and steamed away to join the Southern Japanese


  [_Photo by Capt. Paddon, O.M.R._


The voyage from Aden to Suez was commenced on Thursday, November 26,
with the "Hampshire" escorting the entire Australian and New Zealand
fleet in five divisions, the five leading ships all being in line. We
passed Perim at 2.30 in the afternoon, the New Zealand ships having
been ordered to steam five miles ahead of the Australians.

It was anticipated that the horses would be severely tried in the Red
Sea. When a following wind got up the troopers were more apprehensive,
but the horses seemed determined to do honour to their native land, and
there was little sickness.

Ordered to Disembark in Egypt.

In the Red Sea a wireless was received instructing the Force to prepare
for a disembarkation in Egypt. Turkey being at war with the Allies
and already threatening the Suez Canal, this turn of affairs was not
surprising, but some were disappointed that anything should occur to
defer our landing in France to help the sorely tried British and French

At 5 o'clock on November 30, the first New Zealand ship, the
"Maunganui," entered the Canal. Each ship had a little engine installed
forward to provide for the powerful electric headlight fastened on the
bows. The armed guard stationed on the starboard side strained their
ears and eyes for any movement, but there was nothing evident except
the beautiful stars, the Indian sentries pacing noiselessly up and
down their sandy beats, and the incessant chatter of the little engine


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


"Who are you?" shouted a voice from the desert, and continued, "126th
Baluchis here." "We're New Zealanders," was the quiet answer. "Hooray!"
cried the Baluchi, "Advance Australia!" It must be said that since that
December day of 1914, both Baluchi and New Zealander have gained
a good deal of geographical knowledge--at the same time removing an
amount of ignorance, the price of previous insularity.


  [_Lent by F. W. Randall_


In the foreground is a white "ramp" used for disembarking horses. On
the outskirts of the group of soldiers may be noticed two Egyptians
endeavouring to "change tho money."]

From Suez to the Bitter Lakes, past all the posts we were destined
to know so well; past Ismailia and the fortifications of Kantara,
the transports slowly steamed. It was the New Zealander's first real
glimpse of Empire. Here lining the banks were the picturesque bearded
Sikhs, the native cavalry and infantry from every frontier State, and
the alert Ghurka with his familiar slouch hat and short trousers.

At Port Said the German prisoners of war were transferred to the
"Hampshire." This was the last we saw of the famous cruiser, fated to
become, on the disastrous day, July 5, 1916, off the Orkneys coast, the
ocean mausoleum of that great soldier, Field-Marshal Lord Kitchener of

Exactly seven weeks after leaving Wellington Harbour, the look-outs
saw with the dawn of December 3, the great white city of Alexandria
standing in a sea of mist. Slowly we forged ahead until clustering
spars resolved themselves into a multitude of transports and captured
sailing ships, for here were interned most of the enemy mercantile
marine captured in the Eastern Mediterranean. By 8 o'clock that morning
six of the New Zealand transports were alongside, and clamouring
round, the long-skirted rabble of the Egyptian seaport beheld in the
stalwart colonials the same material as that which wrested victory at
Tel-el-Kebir and Omdurman.

The poor horses were delighted to get ashore; groggy on their feet,
they cut the most amusing capers. Soon men and stores, guns and horses,
were en route to the railway station, where troop trains were waiting,
and in a few hours were speeding across some of the most magnificent
agricultural country in the world--the delta of the Nile.


Training in Egypt.

The first troop train, with Divisional Headquarters on board, got away
late in the afternoon, and pursued its way past old Lake Mareotis,
with the little brown fishing boats dotted over its waters, into the
heart of the Nile Delta. In the failing light the network of irrigation
canals, the graceful date palms, and the unpretentious mud houses were
dimly discernible.

All night long more trains were loaded and disappeared into the gloom.
The Cairo-Alexandria express would be a credit to any English railway
company, doing the journey of 133 miles in a little over three hours,
but the troop trains, like their kindred all over the world, took a
little more leisure, being about eight hours on the way, the first
train reaching Zeitoun, four miles further on through Cairo, at 1
o'clock the next morning. The baggage and supplies were tumbled out
into the darkness; guards were mounted; and horses and men trudged
their weary way about a mile and a half along a dusty white road and
across a sandy desert, eventually coming to a halt near a racecourse,
to the picket fence of which the horses were made secure, while those
who could lay down on the sand to snatch an hour or two of sleep.

It was the Egyptian winter and the nights were exceedingly cold, but
the weary men slept on. More and more trains rolled in to Helmieh and
Palais de Koubbeh; more and more men and horses stumbled into the
bivouac, until about 5 o'clock even the heaviest sleeper was awake
and endeavouring to restore circulation until the rising sun should
dissipate the morning mist. A great hunger became infectious--most men
had a ration of bully beef and biscuits, but the wherewithal to make
the welcome billy of tea was not forthcoming. Then the New Zealanders
found real friends--friends in need--the men of the East Lancashire
Territorial Division, for the generous North Countrymen arrived with
steaming-dixies of tea and "summat t' eat." These were the first
English troops we had "lain" alongside, and the good-fellowship so
welcomely begun in the desert was strengthened later on the Gallipoli


  [_Photo by the Author_


These big mules of the N.Z. Divisional Train were bred in North

Presently the sun burst triumphantly through the mist and disclosed a
bivouac of thousands of men and horses lying on the edge of a limitless
desert. As far as the eye could see was a yellow sandy plain. This was
skirted on the Cairo side by the main Heliopolis-Suez road, which ran
east and west through the camp, and was bounded on the far horizon by
a range of low brown sandhills. Soon all hands were at work pitching
headquarters and the supply depots south of this main road and the
other units north of it. A new road at right angles to the main road
was constructed in a northerly direction--on the right of which the
mounted rifles, artillery and ambulance placed their tents and horse
lines, while the infantry occupied the whole of the left hand side.
Water-pipes had been laid on and watering troughs for horses were
already on the ground, and by evening some order had been evolved,
though many troops had again to bivouac in the open, realizing that,
notwithstanding the poets, the sands of the desert do become very cold
about 2 o'clock in the morning.

By the end of a week all the ships had been cleared of men, horses and
stores, and the three colonial camps had shaken down into something
like order--the Australian infantry at Mena, under the shadow of
the great Pyramids; the Australian Light Horse at Medi; and the New
Zealanders at Zeitoun. The horses were not fit for either transport
work or driving, but for a week or two were exercised in progressive
work until able to stand the strain of manoeuvres. Out of nearly four
thousand horses only eighty-eight failed to survive the buffetting
journey through the Tasman Sea and Great Australian Bight, the
sweltering heat of the Indian Ocean and the Red Sea, and the hazardous
acclimatization in a hot and sandy desert--there they stood in long and
polished rows, chewing the succulent berseem and munching the dry and
uninviting tibbin, which apparently caused the horses much less concern
than it did the anxious troopers.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Training commenced in earnest. Early every morning the infantry
battalions paraded in full marching order and trudged through miles
of sandy desert. Like so much of the soldier's life, this work was
not interesting, but it was necessary; with clothing designed for a
cool climate the long columns swung out along the never-ending sands,
hardening the hardy ones, the cruel desert slowly but mercilessly
winnowing out the few unfit. If a man had a bad knee or a weak
chest, those weary sweltering marches and misty nights sought out
the weak, who were sent to the Egyptian Army Hospital at Abassia,
where Australian nurses of Queen Alexandra's Imperial Nursing Service
nursed them tenderly back to health, or sent them broken-hearted to
convalesce at Alexandria preparatory to their long sea voyage home.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


The mounted rifles, artillery and engineers daily exercised their
horses and teams until it was possible to have squadron and battery
training. Out in the hot sun all day, by diligence and care, men and
horses became efficient units in the great machine. The way was not
always a sandy one; sometimes the route lay along the banks of the
irrigation canals, past ancient sakiehs and Archimedean screws lifting
the precious water into the little tributary canals that are the life
of Egypt. Past fields of wheat and tomatoes; acres of beans reminding
one of Thoreau's sojourn in the wilds; down scented orange groves
and acacia avenues; through acres and acres of the clover known as
berseem--the soldiers went their way, marvelling at the fertility of a
land that produces three crops within the year.

On those fresh dewy mornings, with the crows chattering noisily in the
trees overhead, one realized what made Egypt triumph over Time. These
simple fellaheen and their forbears had watched Hittite, Assyrian,
Persian, Greek and Roman sweep through the country and ravish its
beauty, to be followed in later days by Saracen and Turk with the same
intent; and here, long years after, following in the great line of
fighting men, but striving for freedom and not conquest, the soldiers
from the Antipodes, glorying in their youth, pass the old obelisk at
Heliopolis and recognize that, perhaps more than pride of race, a
fertile soil and a diligent husbandry make for national longevity.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Berseem is a variety of lucerne, and is the staple green food of
camels, horses, cattle, goats and sheep. It helps to keep the Nile
Delta fertile.]

[Illustration: "LIZZIE"]

It may have been because of the church parades, where men sang the
hymns they knew--hymns associated with their early life and Sunday
school, or perhaps during the service men let their minds wander
from the dust and glare of Egypt to the green fields and the loved
ones of home--but whatever the cause, Sunday was essentially the
day of letter writing. On Sunday afternoons, groups of men wandered
farther afield--to the mighty Pyramids of Ghizeh, there to pose on
the protesting camels for the conventional photograph of tourist,
sphinx and pyramid; or perchance to the Zoo at Ghezireh, with its
quaint mosaic paths, its giraffes and the bewitching "Lizzie," with
her radiant smile and open countenance. Crowds were fascinated by the
collection of antiquities in the Egyptian Museum, and by those polished
cases in which, surrounded by great sphinxes and pylons, sleep the
former kings of four and five thousand years ago. It is difficult to
conceive that these were ever people of flesh and blood, until the
revelation of mummified queens with their tiny babies forces one to
realize that they, too, once were really human in their hates and
loves, their triumphs and disappointments.


  [_Photo by the Author_


A Camel Study on the road to Helouan.]

Most of the soldiers' spare time was naturally spent in Cairo. Here
everything seemed to be licensed except the drinking shops--the newsboy
needed a license to sell his papers; the donkey boys and donkeys,
who seemed numberless, were really carefully numbered; the futile
red-tarbushed police spent much of their time chasing the bootblack
who dared to ply without a permit. Owing to the war, the tourist
season had failed--the rich Americans had stayed at home--but in the
well-paid Australians and New Zealanders the astute merchants found
suitable substitutes, whom they proceeded to bleed most unmercifully.
Out into the streets they came with their wares. In the natural course
of affairs men hawked sugar-cane, vegetables, live poultry, sweetmeats
and cakes; the clang of the liquorice-water sellers' gongs clashed with
those of the lemonade man; round the cafes, where the patron sits
at a little table on a footpath, men tendered their little trays of
shrimps and dusty plates of strawberries--all these now supplemented
by an army of boys and men trading walking-sticks and swagger canes by
the thousand; antiques made out of Nile mud; ancient Dervish weapons
with the dust of Birmingham still upon them; foreign postage stamps
on sheets; scenic postcards and questionable pictures; dainty little
fly-whisks and "pieces of the true Cross."

Watching from the balconies of the fashionable hotels (every soldier
is fashionable while the money lasts) the procession filling the
street below was always interesting. The Rolls-Royce of the Egyptian
Pasha slowing down behind a string of heavily-laden camels; a man
with a performing monkey protesting against the intrusion of a flock
of turkeys shepherded ahead and astern by old women--solemnly down
the main street of Cairo go the old ladies with the birds; a wedding
procession with a raucous band meanders past; and jostling one another
on the road, shouting arbagis with their two-horse cabs, scurrying
motor cyclists of the Army of Occupation, and the quaint one-horsed
lorries perambulating the closely-veiled collection of ladies that go
to make the modest modern harem.

Like the schoolboy, the soldier dearly loves a tuck shop. Army fare is
very monotonous. The soldier on trek and in the trenches constantly
talks of his likes and dislikes in the matter of eating and drinking.
So it was that the hotels were always crowded--a hot bath and a meal
were always welcome--and the girls of Cairo were never treated more
liberally and often to the daintiness of Sault's and Groppi's.

The Egyptian, like the Babu, is fond of bursting into print. The
comedian in the colonial forces discovered a rich new field. Eating
houses purveying the fried steak and eggs and tomatoes, together
with imitation Scotch whisky and Greek beer, came forth in all their
glory of calico signs inscribed "The Balclutha Bar," this with a fine
disregard for the prohibition tendencies of the Southern town; "The
Waipukurau Reading Rooms," and the "Wellington Hotel--very cheap and
breezy." Every township in Australia and New Zealand was similarly


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


This New Zealand officer, the two Australians, the Ghurkha officer and
the two Ghurkhas are typical of the men who in August 1915, reached the
highest points on the Gallipoli Peninsula--the New Zealanders on Chunuk
Bair; the Australians on Abdel Rahman Bair; the Ghurkhas on Hill Q.]

The most ubiquitous person was easily the bootblack. A soldier could
not walk along the street without being besieged by a pestering
multitude crying "Bootsa clean, sir! no good, no money; Kiwi polish,
sir!" Upon sitting down in a railway station or elsewhere, one's boots
would be attacked by a swarm which had to be literally kicked away.

The places of amusement were very attractive. The houses that combined
refreshment with entertainment were liberally patronized; the food was
much appreciated, and the efforts of the artists cheerfully tolerated.
In the first flush of life in a Continental city, the casinos, dancing
houses and saloons were far too popular, until the nastiness of these
places became apparent through the numbers on the morning sick parades,
whereupon officers and men alike realized that they could not keep fit
by dancing till the small hours of the morning. The soldier knows his
faults, but he strongly resents armchair criticism. It is not difficult
to avoid temptation if one sits quietly at home. A cabbage is not
immoral, it is unmoral. It is easy to condemn the men who sometimes are
not temperate in all things, but the soldier finds it easy to live a
prodigal life. He reasons, perhaps quite wrongly, that he may as well
eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow he may be in the casualty list.
The soldier will not try to defend his conduct. He recognizes he is a
man, with most of the human frailties, yet is prepared at a word and
for an ideal, to place his body as a shield between his country and his
country's enemies.

It was decided to use the New Zealand Expeditionary Force as the
nucleus of a Division. The New Zealand Infantry Brigade and the New
Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade were to be joined by the 1st Australian
Light Horse Brigade and the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, at that
time on the high seas, en route to Egypt. As regards divisional
troops, there was a great shortage. A Divisional Ammunition Column was
an urgent necessity. A cable was sent to New Zealand asking for the
despatch of a second Howitzer Battery (one was already on the water)
and a Howitzer Brigade Ammunition Column as the necessary complement.
A Field Company of Engineers was to be formed out of surplus
reinforcements, and a cable was despatched to New Zealand for a second
company. The Divisional Train was to be organized as soon as the men
and mechanical transport could be obtained. The Ceylon Planters' Rifle
Corps was also attached and posted to the Wellington Infantry Battalion
as a fifth company.


  [_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.B._


The camp rapidly acquired a well-groomed air. Patterns in stone
ornamented the surroundings of each tent. Regimental crests and
mottoes, representations of New Zealand birds and Maori proverbs
were picked out in little coloured pebbles gathered on the desert.
It was discovered that oats, rice and other grains, if soaked in
water, germinated vigorously when planted in the sand. Soon among the
tents of the mounted units there appeared many green patches like
miniature lawns. Round the officers' messes more elaborate gardens were
attempted. From Cairene florists pot plants were procured; these were
plunged, pot and all, into beds made of soil carted from the Canal
banks, and there, watered by the careful Arab gardener, roses and canna
bloomed profusely.

The newspaper boys were a never failing fount of amusement. Knowing no
English but a few carefully taught swear words, these boys would stop
the first slouch hat they met, and ask to have read over in English the
gist of the headlines. Many an honest soldier would read the lines as
printed, but it was too good a field for the wags to miss. Accordingly
it was not uncommon to hear the news cried something like this:
"'Time-ees Egyp.' Very good news! Captain----dead again!" One small boy
made a hobby of "Very good news! 'Egyptian Times' to-morrow!"

Next to the newsboys in number and popularity were the sellers of
oranges. Wherever the troops went in the desert, at smoke-oh, up would
come the boys with the "oringies, very beeg, very sweet," three for a
half-piastre. The oranges were little ones, but with a very meaty and
juicy pulp, and were most grateful and refreshing in the desert heat.
So sudden was their appearance that it seemed these people, together
with the boys who sold the cakes and the ones with the hard-boiled
eggs, must live in the clouds and drop straight down wherever the dust
cloud settled.

[Illustration: "ORINGIES!"]

Egypt was nominally a province of Turkey, but the Khedive, Abbas
Hilma Pasha, having gone over to the Central Powers with Turkey, it
was notified on December 18, 1914, that Egypt was placed under the
protection of His Majesty the King. The suzerainty of Turkey over Egypt
thus terminated. The person appointed to the place of the late Khedive
was His Highness Prince Hussein Kamel Pasha, the eldest living prince
of the family of Mohammed Ali. His Highness was to be proclaimed Sultan
of Egypt at the Abdin Palace, Cairo, on the morning of December 20. The
Australians and New Zealanders furnished representatives to line the
streets--the Otago and Wellington Infantry Battalions with their bands
doing duty for New Zealand. The detachment of Ceylon Planters' Rifles
Corps also assisted in guard duty and were posted in the Abdin Square.
The streets and buildings were gaily decorated--many Italian and Greek
and French flags being displayed, but principally Union Jacks and
ensigns and the new Egyptian flag, red with three white crescents and


The Field Troop of New Zealand Engineers passing Shepheard's Hotel.]

The authorities entrusted with holding Egypt and the Suez Canal were
sorely troubled in early December in reference to the Turks proclaiming
a Holy War. The Nationalists were active, but with the arrival of the
colonial troops the anxiety of those responsible was greatly relieved.
The suspected civilians and Turkish officers holding high command in
the Egyptian Army were deported to Malta. The Egyptian understands
armed strength and despises weakness. Being aware of this, it was
deemed advisable to parade the troops as strong as possible and march
through the most populous parts of the city.

The New Zealanders were ordered to march through Cairo three days after
the coronation. Leaving the camp early in the morning, the parade moved
down the beautiful asphalt roads; past processions of camels laden
with sugar-cane; past old women with their herds of predatory flocks
of sheep and goats; past Pont Limoun and Bab-el-Hadid barracks to the
Opera Square, where the General Officer Commanding His Majesty's Forces
in Egypt took the salute. This far was plain sailing, but presently
the head of the column dived down a narrow bazaar where four men could
hardly ride abreast. Into this dark slum went the mounted men; the
glistening guns of the artillery; the collapsible boats of the Field
Troop; the cable waggons of the signallers; then the long line of
desert-trained, sun-tanned infantry, with the ambulance and some more
mounted men bringing up the rear. In the bazaars it was almost dark,
and in the narrower streets, where the projecting balconies seemed
to meet overhead, it was not much better. It was a relief to get to
wider streets and less foul air. Lining the streets were thousands of
people, all seemingly in a good humour. In the open workshops, old men
working at primitive loom and lathe never even looked up. Down past the
schools and colleges, where hot-headed young Nationalists were wont to
air their grievances, the cavalcade clattered on its noisy way; here,
perhaps, there was a little scowling. The common people--the men clad
in their many-coloured robes and each wearing the red, flat-topped fez
worn by every male from the Sultan to the donkey driver--made quite a
splash of colour as they crowded on the sidewalk in the shade of the
trees and cheered and clapped with apparent earnestness. Even as the
fellaheen appreciates the fact that under British rule he has to pay
his taxes only once, so the poor and working class of Egypt recognized
that since these bloodless conquerors arrived from overseas, even the
beggar and the seller of Turkish delight had accumulated a little hoard
of piastres. The disturbances of 1919, however, show that the Egyptian
of the cities is a very gullible person.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The wooden plough is shod with a metal point. The furrow is not turned
over. The earth is merely broken and pushed aside.]

Christmas Eve saw the arrival of the British section of the New
Zealanders, a contingent of six officers and 234 other ranks who
had enlisted in England. These were men who were away from New
Zealand when war broke out--some were gold-dredging in the East;
some were working in the copper mines in Spain; but wherever they
were--Pernambuco, Sarawak or the Andes--when the call came they
hastened to the Old Country and enlisted. Engineers, sailors, painters,
actors and gentlemen of leisure, they banded together in England and
were organized as a machine-gun corps for France, but were eventually
sent out to Egypt. Smart and well drilled, they made an excellent
impression, and were just the men wanted for the nucleus of the new
engineer and transport services, between which two branches they were
equally divided.

The Christmas dinner was eaten out of doors in the hot sun, as the new
dining huts were not ready. New Year was ushered in by festivals in
the city, while out on the desert the regimental bands played all the
old familiar tunes, the men meanwhile holding impromptu dances under
the silent desert stars.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Every week the division was becoming better organized and more like the
working whole. From day to day inspections were held by the subordinate
commanders. Periodically, staff officers held minute inspection of
units, until on two occasions the whole division was paraded for
General Maxwell, the General Officer Commanding the Force in Egypt.
Each day now saw an improvement. Transport was continually arriving.
The division was now officially styled "The New Zealand and Australian
Division," as there would be two complete Australian Brigades
incorporated--the 1st Light Horse and the 4th Infantry Brigade.

January 25 was a red-letter day, occupied by the New Zealand Infantry
preparing the camp for the 4th Australian Brigade, due to arrive during
the week. But at 5 o'clock that afternoon came the thrilling news from
Army Corps Headquarters that the Infantry Brigade was needed hurriedly
on the Suez Canal to support the Indian troops against an attack by the
Turks, who were reported to be advancing. During that night seven days'
supplies were carted to the railway stations of Helmieh and Palais
de Koubbeh; ammunition was served out; men's kits were checked and
deficiencies supplied. Far into the night excited soldiers talked, and
scorning sleep, waited expectantly for the morrow.


The Defence of the Suez Canal.

The New Zealand troops detailed to assist in the defence of the Suez
Canal were the Auckland, Wellington, Canterbury and Otago Infantry
Battalions and the New Zealand Field Ambulance. At 7 a.m., on January
26, the entrainment commenced; everybody working with a will, the
last train cleared Helmieh Siding at 3 in the afternoon. Brigade
Headquarters, the Auckland and Canterbury Battalions, and two sections
of the Field Ambulance detrained at Ismailia; the Wellington and Otago
Battalions and one section of the Field Ambulance going on to Kubri,
about twelve miles north of Suez.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Tel-el-Kebir is the scene of the famous battle fought by Lord Wolseley
in 1882.]

A glance at the map will show that the defence of Egypt from the
Turk was strengthened by two great natural obstacles--natural from
a military point of view--the arid wastes of the Sinai Desert, and
the chain of salt lakes connected by the Suez Canal. In those days,
when trained men were not plentiful, it was natural that this long
ribbon of sea water--nowhere less than sixty-five yards wide--should
be selected as the line of resistance, although much elaborate
fortification had been made on the eastern bank, more particularly at
Kantara. In the matter of heavy artillery we had the advantage, as the
Turk had to bring his guns over miles of soft sand, whereas we employed
ships of the Royal Navy, which, with their powerful guns, could move up
and down the defence line, easily outranging the most powerful Turkish


This map shows how the troops defending the Suez Canal could have been
quickly reinforced from the camps near Cairo.]

[Illustration: "KUKRIS"

The Ghurka badge and weapon.]

About thirty miles south of Port Said a few low sandhills cut off
Lake Menzala from the Balah Lakes. Across this narrow isthmus ran the
old caravan route, through Kantara, from Syria to Egypt. This was the
classical way for an army attacking Egypt. So Kantara was made extra
strong and garrisoned by Indian regulars.

Based on Ismailia itself were three sets of posts. A few miles north
was El Ferdan, where a company and two platoons of the Auckland and
Canterbury Battalions were stationed; the second group was nearer
Ismailia--two posts, one called Battery Post, with two platoons of New
Zealanders as part of its garrison, the other, Ismailia Ferry, with one
company; in reserve at Ismailia were Brigade Headquarters, with the
remainder of the Canterbury and Auckland Battalions not absorbed by the

Between Lake Timsah and the Great Bitter Lake was an important stretch
of the Canal, only about seven miles long, but comprising the two posts
of Toussoum and Serapeum. At the latter post, two platoons of the
Canterbury Battalion (the 12th Nelson Company) were instrumental in
helping to stave off the most determined attack ever made by the Turks
on Egypt.

South of Serapeum the Canal widens into the Great Bitter Lakes and the
Little Bitter Lake, the defence of this part of the line naturally
being entrusted to the Navy, assisted by two French cruisers. Between
the lower lake and Suez, a distance of about fifteen miles, the
Wellington and Otago Battalions were distributed--units at different
times being posted at Shalouf, Baluchistan, Ghurka Posts, El Kubri and

About midnight on the night of our arrival at Kubri, a party of Turks
made a great show of liveliness, evidently to draw fire and so obtain
some information as to our strength and dispositions. But nothing came
of these diversions, which occurred periodically.

Waiting for the Turk.

Some of our posts were on the Sinai side of the Canal, some on the
Egyptian side. Up and down we were connected by telephone to all these
posts and the batteries. The Turkish intelligence system was very
active, whatever its efficiency, for on one night the wires from Kubri
were cut no less than five times, although the line was being specially

[Illustration: IN THE SUEZ CANAL.]

The provision of desert patrols, post guards, Canal patrols, listening
and examination posts, took up most of the time. The work was hard but
full of interest. The Turk was not far away, and it was exhilarating
making preparations for his downfall. On both sides of the Canal,
trenches had to be dug and sandbagged, and strong posts of tactical
importance constructed. Every day it was regretted that though the
Turks were quiescent, armies of mosquitoes were extremely active. Ships
of all the Allies and the neutral nations passed slowly through the
Canal, carrying many civilian Australians and New Zealanders to and
from the south. After the heat of Cairo, the daily dip was a great
boon, particularly as the ladies on the passing vessels threw many
luxuries to the soldiers in the water. Especially at Ismailia were the
surroundings agreeable. The men in their spare time bathed in Lake
Timsah, lolled in the shade of the high acacias, and marvelled at the
masses of bougainvillea climbing in its purple glory among the dark
green trees.

On January 28, the "Willochra" discharged the infantry of the Second
Reinforcements at Suez, from whence they travelled by rail to Cairo.
The ships carrying the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, together with
the New Zealand transports "Verdala" and "Knight of the Garter,"
steamed up through the Canal to the accompaniments of tumultous
cheering, which burst forth anew when their escort was discovered to
be the Australian submarine AE2, steaming awash between the banks
lined with enthusiastic East Lancashires, Indians, Australians and New


  [_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.R._


The end of January drew near and still the Turks did not attack.
Occasionally the outposts on either side saw shadowy forms and fired
into the dark. Our Intelligence Department had gleaned some knowledge
of the enemy's dispositions. It was known that about forty miles east
of the Canal, opposite Serapeum, he was concentrating in a deep valley,
from whence it was believed he intended to advance in two columns--one
on Kantara and the other on Serapeum. These were the obvious routes,
the only other feasible one being by way of Kubri.

The troops were very fit and well dug in. Every man--English, Indian,
and Colonial--was a volunteer in the strictest sense and eager to
try conclusions with the enemy. On the last day of the month we were
greatly cheered by the news that the "Blucher" had been sunk in the
North Sea.

It was discovered that the Turkish column, marching by way of the old
caravan road towards Kantara, moved at nights, using the telegraph line
as a guide. The Indians had prepared elaborate fortifications and wire
entanglements out from Kantara, then skilfully altered the direction of
the telegraph line, so that it might end in carefully concealed barbed
wire and pointed stakes.


  [_Lent by Major Brunt, W.I.R._


The wire running out is an alarm wire connected with the wire
entanglements in front.]

Affairs of outposts gradually became matters of frequency over the
length of the line. The Turk was making a show of reconnaissance from
Kantara to Kubri, but everywhere a warm welcome was awaiting him.

Our First Battle.

At last, on the night of February 2/3, it was obvious that the great
attack had commenced. At Kantara the enemy made an early morning
attack on the outposts, which was easily repulsed. Then their main body
came down the deceiving telegraph line. To the intense delight of the
Indians the enemy walked straight into the trap, and were scattered to
the four winds of the desert by carefully posted machine guns. It was
quite evident that Kantara would not fall. But the enemy maintained
a certain measure of activity, advancing and digging in just out of
range. He showed no anxiety for a closer acquaintance, but appeared
content to throw a few shells at the posts and occasionally at the
shipping on Lake Timsah. This continued all day, until he was evidently
ordered to the attack. It was a miserably feeble effort, which rapidly
converted itself into a hasty retirement.

Some of the Canterburys were at El Ferdan, upon which post four small
enemy field guns opened a desultory fire, but were quickly put out of
action by a few well directed rounds from H.M.S. "Clio."

Down at Kubri the troops were on the alert. H.M.S. "Himalaya" used her
searchlights all night, flinging her ghostly beams of light far over
the desert and preventing any surprise attack. A few shots were fired
by the outposts, but well-directed fire from the "Himalaya" deterred
the Turk from making any organized advance.


  [_Lent by Capt. Saunders, 12th Nel. Reg._


This is the part of the Canal where the pontoons were launched. The
12th Nelson Company was holding a line near the fir trees.]

The only place at which a comparatively serious attack was pressed home
was in the neighbourhood of Toussoum and Serapeum. On the evening of
February 2, the 12th Nelson Company of the Canterbury Battalion was
holding a section of 800 yards. On their left the line was taken up by
the 62nd Punjabis. At about 3.25 next morning the enemy opened fire
with machine guns, and at 3.30 it was evident that he was making an
attack a few hundred yards on our left. Thirty men of the Nelsons were
at once doubled over to assist the Indians, but were surprised to find
no troops there! The enemy, in five pontoons, was already crossing the
Canal! The handful of New Zealanders opened fire and drove back the
boats. The other platoons of the Nelsons kept up a steady long-range
fire. Soon both banks of the Canal were ablaze with the spluttering of
rifles fired by soldiers undergoing their baptism of fire. The rival
artilleries now came into action, and by dawn the battle raged over
the two and a half miles of Canal in the neighbourhood of Toussoum and
Serapeum. The Turk made attempt after attempt, but our infantry easily
accounted for the men in the pontoons; the field artillery scattered
the bridge-making squads; and when it was fully light, the ships' guns
caused such consternation in the enemy's reserves that gradually the
attack melted away. Everywhere in front of the line between Toussoum
and Serapeum lay dozens of enemy dead.


The fir trees on our side of the Canal are discernible. The pontoons
were sunk by rifle fire. The large holes were made with axes to render
the boats unserviceable.]

At noon the Punjabis counter-attacked with considerable effect,
took many prisoners, and cleared a large area of the enemy. In the
afternoon the New Zealanders were ordered to close on the 22nd Indian
Brigade Headquarters, and during this movement we suffered our first
New Zealand casualties--one sergeant being wounded and a private of
the 12th Nelson Company died as the result of wounds received in
action--the first soldier of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force to be
killed on the field of battle. The troops spent an expectant night, but
nothing further materialized.


The last resting place of 6/246 Private William Arthur Ham, 12th
(Nelson) Company of the Canterbury Infantry Battalion.]

Captured Turkish Orders.


  [_Photo by the Author_



  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


From daylight on the morning of the 4th, parties cleared up the
battlefield, burying hundreds of Turks. Captured orders showed that
the attempt was to have been made on a grand scale, but something must
have sadly miscarried. The following extracts dealing with the main
attack reveal Turkish Orders at their best: "By the grace of Allah we
shall attack the enemy on the night of February 2/3, and seize the
Canal. Simultaneously with us the right column will attack Kantara;
the 68th Regiment will attack El Ferdan and Ismailia; the left column
will attack Suez; and one company from the 10th Division will attack
Shallufa. The champions of Islam, from Tripoli in Africa, from the left
wing will advance to Serapeum and the south of Serapeum.... As soon
as it is dark the heavy artillery battery will take up its position.
Its task is to destroy the enemy's warships in Lake Timsah. If it
gets the opportunity, it is to sink a ship at the entrance to the
Canal.... Three regiments will proceed to the Camp of the Bridgemakers;
the detachments will take pontoon and engineer soldiers from the
companies selected as attack column.... The advances from the 'place
of preparation' is to be made simultaneously in eight columns at a
place to be fixed, and in a straight line; a pontoon is to be given to
each squad; each squad is to send forward a party to reconnoitre....
The march to the Canal is about four or five kilometres, and is to
be accomplished without halt. The pontoons are to be launched in the
Canal and the passage across is to begin immediately.... The first
duty of the detachments which cross is to occupy the slope of the
western bank. The two companies collected on the western bank are to
advance 500 or 1000 metres from the Canal and take up a favourable
position facing west. After all the battalions in the first line have
been mustered they are to continue the march. The 2/75th Regiment
is to seize Toussoum and occupy the hill with small force. The 74th
Regiment is to take the direction towards Timsah and the west, and is
to advance as far as the railway line.... If the regiments meet with
opposition from the enemy while occupying these positions, they are at
once to execute a fierce bayonet charge.... At first I will be at the
little hill on which are two sandhills; later on I shall go towards
Toussoum." All of which showing that even early in the War the best
laid plans of Turk and Hun went very much astray. Instead of executing
fierce bayonet charges and taking up favourable positions facing west,
the broken remnants of the champions of Islam had in large measure
fled a considerable distance east--going so far and so quickly that
an aeroplane reconnaisance of sixty miles showed great clouds of dust
still hastening towards the desert sanctuary.

[Illustration: [_Photo by the Author_


The pontoons are of German make, as the spelling of "the home port"


This picture, which shows the physique of the Turk, was taken by Lieut.
A. E. Forsythe, (12th Nelsons) who was killed on Gallipoli.]

The enemy's total casualties were about 3000 in killed, wounded and
prisoners. The British loss was 18 killed and 83 wounded. The naval
casualties were also infinitesimal--one man killed on the "Swiftsure"
and ten wounded on the "Hardinge." Thus was the enemy's much-heralded
attack brought to confusion. From that day the Suez Canal, thanks to
the efforts of the British and Indian troops and the Allied navies, has
been open day and night to the ships of friendly nations.

Three weeks of waiting ensued. There was certainly work to be done, but
the Canal is just the Canal, and men get very sick of it. Any change is
welcome to the soldier. It was a relief to climb into the troop trains
on February 26 and eventually arrive in the old encampment near Zeitoun.

Return to Zeitoun.

The New Zealand and Australian Division was now feeling its feet, and
towards the end of March the Third Reinforcements arrived and were
promptly drafted to the units requiring them, particularly the Field
Engineers and Divisional Train. Among them was a Maori contingent of 14
officers and 425 other ranks, eager to prove that they were too good
for garrison duty. Egypt had never seen their betters as regards drill,
physique and discipline.

About this time the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force came into being.
The air was full of rumours; soon it became manifest that the two
Colonial Divisions--the 1st Australian Division and the New Zealand
and Australian Division--were, as the Australian and New Zealand Army
Corps, to be called on to engage in a most important enterprise.
Bustling administrative officers from the two Divisions commenced
addressing their letters to Army Headquarters as A.N.Z.A.C., little
realizing they were unconsciously creating a word destined to ring with
glory down the ages.


  [_Photo by the Author_


In this picture are Australian Signallers, Ceylon Rifle Planters,
British, French, and Australian Officers.]

How the prospect of humbling the Turk appealed to these young crusaders
from the far South! What an atmosphere of anticipation pervaded the
camp when it was learned that the Division was to be paraded for the
last searching inspection by the illustrious soldier to whom Britain
had entrusted the confounding of the Turk. There was a certain element
of romance in these young, untried divisions from the New World daring
to confront one of the oldest and most warlike of the Old World races.

An Inspection on the Desert.

Just a year before, Sir Ian Hamilton, reviewing the New Zealanders and
Australians in their own lands, expressed the wish that some day these
wonderful horsemen might be shown to the world. By a strange chance,
here they were in Africa, soon to be led by him in their first great
visit to Europe. Surrounded by his staff, here again he sees them in
the desert. Squadron after squadron go the 1st Light Horse Brigade,
the pride of all Australia; then the New Zealand Mounted Rifles--men
from the Waikato, the Wairarapa, the Waitaki, and every country
district in between--prance gaily past in a cloud of dust and locusts;
following the mounted rifles come the divisional artillery, all New
Zealanders--with their cap badges blackened for war and their guns
bedaubed with multi-coloured paints in a manner to make an old battery
sergeant-major go crazy. Here are the handy men of the army--the
divisional engineers with their great pontoons, and their confreres the
signallers--wise men with buzzers and telephones and other signalling
paraphernalia bedecking their horses and waggons. Following the "fancy
troops," in solid ranks of khaki and with bayonets flashing in the
desert sun, come the infantry brigades of the Division. These are the
men who trudge all day in the desert and at night dig themselves in,
bivouacking and trudging on again next morning. The New Zealand Brigade
marches brilliantly; every man is a prouder man than when he left New
Zealand, for the infantry alone out of our Division participated in the
defence of the Canal.

Now come the newly joined 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, and, closely
following, the waggons of the divisional train; finally the field
ambulance, flying their great Red Cross flags. By this time everybody
is covered with grey desert dust and the plain is obscured as if with
the smoke of a great bush fire. The march past over, units make for
home by the shortest route. Soon the horses are rubbed down and are
munching their tibbin and crushed barley, while the men are crowding
the showers preparatory to the call of the cook-house.

That night we realized that at last the long-desired standard was
attained--the New Zealand and Australian Division was pronounced fit
for active service.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Showing Headquarters cars and signallers on the old Suez Road. The
officer in the foreground is Lt. Col. G. R. Pridham, D.S.O., R.E., the
talented C.R.E. of the Division in Gallipoli and France.]

A Riot in the Ezbekieh Quarter.

Good Friday was a bad day for Australia and New Zealand. This was the
occasion of the great riot. There were reasons for this outburst. On
that holiday morning all troops were given leave for the day. There
was nothing to do in the town, so some men got more than was good for
them of the wretched liquors sold in those tenth-rate cafes and dancing
houses. Soldiers under the influence of drink do not behave any better
than their civilian brothers. They are necessarily high-spirited people
and very fit. In retaliation for some real or fancied grievance, a few
irresponsibles commenced throwing things out of a top-storey window.
The red caps were not popular, and both sides receiving reinforcements,
a melee ensued. Some fool fired the broken furniture lying in the
street, and from this it was only a stage to firing the houses. An
Egyptian fire brigade arrived, but the soldiers, by this time numbering
thousands, cut the hoses and pelted the unfortunate firemen with their
own gear. Realizing that only disgrace could come of the affair, the
sane people gradually got the rioters away, and after about four hours
of Bacchanalian revelry the city was again quiet. A legend has grown up
that the work was a good one, and that the soldiers had determined to
rid the city of those sinks of iniquity. It is almost suggested that
the good work was the result of a religious revival among the troops.
It must be admitted that it was a bad business; but, it may be honestly
set down that throughout the four years of War there were few instances
of excess participated in by New Zealand troops.

Leaving Cairo.

The men of the Maori contingent were disappointed to find that
they were not to join up at once with the Division, and after an
entertainment and haka before Sir John Maxwell, the High Commissioner
of Egypt, one of their officers made an eloquent plea to be sent on
active service. The promise was made that the request would be acceded
to after a short term of garrison duty at Malta, for which station they
left Zeitoun Camp on the evening of Easter Monday, embarking on the
S.S. "Runic" at Port Said.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


Easter Monday was a most trying day. The khamseen blew, the breakfast
dishes were full of grit, horses were fidgety in the driving
sandstorm, everyone's temper was on edge. Egypt is a delightful place
for the tourist, who can amuse himself indoors if the conditions
be undesirable without. The soldier, on the contrary, must soldier
on, khamseen or no khamseen, so over the drifting wastes of sand,
artillery, engineers, infantry, divisional train and ambulance, wended
their several ways to their different rendezvous in the desert. This
was a new idea in the matter of parades--parading by ships--all to
go on the "Lutzow" mustering in one place, those for the "Katuna" in
another, and so on. Men, horses and vehicles were carefully checked
by the known capacity of the transports already waiting in Alexandria

Because the country was known to be mountainous and almost devoid of
water it was recognized that in the initial stages of the campaign the
mounted men must be left behind. This reduced the fighting strength of
our division from four brigades to two. The mounted rifles for once
were sorry they had horses, but hardly envied the infantrymen the daily
long-distance route marches with the seventy pounds of pack and a
rifle, dusty tracks, and an angry sun.

Everything comes to an end, even training in Egypt. In the week
following Easter, all ranks were thankful to get aboard the troop
trains in the dark and disappear into the black Egyptian night. The
only regret was that their comrades of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles
and Australian Light Horse were left fretting in the desert camps.


The Rendezvous at Mudros.

Alexandria Harbour was alive with shipping--British, French,
Greek, Italian and many captured vessels. Some of the latter--the
"Lutzow," the "Annaberg," the "Haidar Pasha," and the "Goslar"--were
requisitioned to make up the fleet of thirteen ships necessary to
carry our Division. They ranged from liners like the "Lutzow," down
to dirty, lice-infested tramps like the "Goslar," and had mostly
lain in Alexandria Harbour for about eight months, tended only by a
few Greeks, who, scrupulously observing the regulations, had thrown
nothing overboard, but dumped the galley ashes and refuse on the once
immaculate decks. The carpenters were still in possession of some of
them, improvising horse boxes and fitting the tramps to carry more
passengers than they had previously been accustomed to. As the journey
took only about three days, a little congestion was not of great moment.


Vehicles, Stores, and a mountain of Hay for the Mediterranean
Expeditionary Force.]

Going out to take over one of the transports, two New Zealand officers
had an amusing illustration of patriotism not peculiar to Egypt. The
usual picket boat of the Ports and Lighthouses Administration not
being available, recourse was made to one of the bumboats selling
Turkish Delight and other delicacies. The two boatmen--a stolid Nubian
at the bow oar, and a flashy Arab at the other--were both quite sure
of one thing: "German, no good--English, very good." The Arab was a
fascinating person, who gripped the thwart with his big toe at every
stroke. Listening to the eloquent and reiterated denunciation of the
Hun, one officer noticed that part of the stock-in-trade was brown boot
polish with a German label, and drew the attention of his companion
to the fact. The Arab overheard the conversation. "What!" he said,
pointing to the offending polish, "that German?" "Yes," said the New
Zealander. Without more ado, the Arab scooped the lot into the harbour.
"That's true patriotism," the officers agreed, but were puzzled by the
grinning of the suppositious patriot. "What are you laughing at, you
fool? That must have cost you a lot of money!" "Aha!" came the answer,
and pointing to the black man in the bows, who seemed a trifle angry,
the Arab said, "It is not mine, it's hees!"

[Illustration: EMBARKING HORSES.]

The Otago Mounted Rifles putting horses on board at Alexandria.]

Lying at anchor was the United States cruiser "Tennessee," with her
huge "paper-basket" masts. For some time she had been employed around
the coast of Asia Minor safeguarding American interests. Greek and
Italian ships were busy bringing refugees--English, French, Jews and
Armenians--fleeing from their homes in Palestine and Syria. Just
outside Alexandria these unfortunates were housed in concentration
camps, at one of which many Jews, mostly Russian subjects, enlisted in
a transport corps styled "the Zion Mule Transport Corps," the members
of which certainly looked most unhappy with their big, rough, North
American pack mules.

Through the Ægean Sea.

On April 10, our first ships got away--the "Achaia," "Katuna," and
"Itonus." The headquarters transport "Lutzow" sailed on the evening of
the 12th, while the "Goslar," the lame duck of the fleet, after many
vexatious troubles with her internal fittings, her messing, and her
crew, finally cleared Alexandria at sunset on April 17, with the New
Zealand Infantry Brigade Headquarters on board.

During the three days of the voyage the troops had many experiences.
Every day fire and boat drill was practised. This required a good deal
of ingenuity, because on none of the transports was there much deck
room. On some of the ships there were lifeboats to hold only about 20
per cent. of the troops, to say nothing of the crews. One ship had
not enough lifebelts to go round. So an order was given that any man
drawing a seat in a boat could not have a lifebelt as well! Yet some
Germans insist that we, not they, prepared unceasingly for war!

The journey was through a sea full of islands of classic interest.
Some of the islands set in the clear Ægean blue were startlingly
beautiful. Passing Patmos, the old monastery on the top of the rocky
height stood out, clear cut, white and gleaming in the morning light.
The padres were quite interested, for it was here, tradition says,
that the Apostle John wrote the Book of Revelation. Past island after
island rich in mythological lore, the smoking transports laboured;
now and then British and French destroyers mysteriously appeared from
behind a barren islet; and interesting beyond measure, we saw a good
example of maritime camouflage--a town-class cruiser painted grey and
black and white to resemble a storm-tossed sea. Ceaseless vigilance
was imperative, as Turkish torpedo boats were wont to issue from
harbours in the Asiatic coast and threaten the safety of transports.
The "Manitou," carrying British troops, lost a good many killed and
drowned in the confusion ensuing on the sudden appearance of a Turkish

Parading by echelon, boat and fire drill, slinging of horses and
waggons--all things tending to ensure a rapid disembarkation in the
face of the enemy--were assiduously practised on the voyage. Past the
fertile island of Nikaria the transports picked their way and anchored
one by one in the spacious outer harbour of Mudros.

Mudros Harbour.

Mudros is a land-locked harbour, the entrance easily controlled by a
boom and a minefield. Here were gathered merchantmen from the ends of
the earth--conveying the five divisions of French and British soldiers
that comprised the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force. Here, too, were
ancient and modern battleships, every pattern of torpedo boat, cruisers
protected and unprotected, submarines and trawlers from the far North


  [_Photo by the Author_


It was the flush of the Ægean spring, and the shore parties cutting
grass for the horses revelled in meadows that reminded them of home.
But the gaunt grey battleships and black destroyers in the bay struck
a vastly different note. From one side of the ship could be seen cows
and sheep and stacks of hay; from the other, the grim realities of war.
Overhead the engines droned incessantly as the seaplanes circled the
harbour preparatory to a reconnaissance of the Peninsula. The tents of
the French gleamed white on the hillside below the group of ancient
windmills, and floating across the rippling water came the stirring
notes of the trumpets calling the French Territorials and Senegalese to
their frequent battle practice.


  [_Photo by Sister M. Jeffery, N.Z.A.N.S._


Daily the mosquito fleet steamed out to gather information of the Turk,
and returned to find more and more transports anchored in the stream.
The representative of the young Australian Navy, AE2, passed down
one afternoon, amid tumultuous cheering, she being recognized as the
convoy to one of the early reinforcement drafts. She went out through
the minefields, and in running the gauntlet of the Dardanelles, died
fighting. Whenever a French ship passed, the New Zealanders lined the
rails, the bands played the "Marseillaise," cheers and counter-cheers
were given.

The Attack on the Dardanelles.


From Bulair to Cape Helles is about 50 miles; from Anzac to Kephalos 15
miles; from Anzac to Helles 14 miles.]

The newcomers were at once informed of the present situation and the
intention of the High Command. It is not advisable here to discuss the
political and strategical considerations that determined an attack
on the Dardanelles--whether the campaign failed because of faulty
strategy, staff work, or tactics, or because the whole conception
of the operation was unsound. This is simply a soldier's narrative of
events, and not a detailed and critical examination of a political and
military effort. This much, however, is known: that in order to help
Russia, to relieve the attacks on the Suez Canal, and to influence the
wavering Balkan States, some action was imperative.

It had been laid down in England that the British commander should
not land his army until a naval attack had been attempted and failed.
Further, he was not to commit himself to any adventurous undertakings
on the Asiatic shore.

On February 19 the outer defences of Sedd-el-Bahr and Kum Kale were
demolished by the fleet. For a time success seemed within our grasp,
but the flat trajectory of the naval guns availed them little against
the forts and land defences situated inside the Straits, and on
March 18, the carefully laid minefields and mobile field guns gave
the coup-de-grace to the naval plan by destroying in one day the
"Irresistible," the "Inflexible," and the "Ocean," together with the
French battleships "Bouvet" and "Gaulois."

Begotten of vacillation and hesitancy at Home, a period of local
inactivity ensued. It was finally decided that a combined land and sea
attack should be attempted. It was known that early in the year the
Turk had six divisions distributed between Bulair, Gaba Tepe, Helles,
and Kum Kale. Since then reinforcements had been constantly arriving
and the fortifications greatly strengthened. The situation in France
was serious--men and more men, guns and more guns, were being clamoured
for. After some delay the last division of British Regulars--the
29th--were detailed for the service, and now in Mudros Harbour they
were waiting in their transports.

The Allied troops composing the M.E.F. were five divisions, as

  A French Division (Territorials and coloured troops).
  The 29th Division (British Regulars).
  The Royal Naval Division.
  The 1st Australian Division.
  The N.Z. and A. Division (two brigades only).

Of these it may be said that as seasoned soldiers the 29th Division
had no superiors on earth, being of the same calibre as the famous
"First Seven Divisions" of the early days in France. The remainder of
the British troops were practically untried, but keen, and volunteers
to a man. For heavy artillery, reliance had to be placed on the
Allied Navies. For the first time in history a British army was to be
supported by 12-inch and 15-inch naval guns, the latter carried by the
"Queen Elizabeth."

Preparing for the Attack.

The troops were organized into three groups, labelled Echelon A, B,
and C. Echelon A was composed of the portion first to land--men who
carried three days' rations and water, 200 rounds of ammunition,
their packs and entrenching tools--whose orders were to secure enough
territory to enable the other troops to disembark with their horses,
guns and heavy vehicles. The 18-pounders and 4.5 howitzers were also in
Echelon A. Echelon B consisted of first-line transport, hold parties,
and officers' horses. They would be brought ashore as the situation
developed. In Echelon C were the pontoons of the Engineers, the waggons
of the Field Ambulance, motor cars, cycles, and supply trains.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The children, of course, are Greek.]

Day by day the soldiers in Echelon A assembled on the troop deck for
disembarkation practice. The men with their loads seemed bulky enough,
but the officers looked even worse. When trussed up with bulging
haversacks, two full water bottles, a heavy Webley and ammunition, a
big map case, field glasses, prismatic compass, a note book and message
forms--not to mention the dozen and one small articles that they, in
their innocence, considered necessary--is it any wonder that they
stepped gingerly? For, once having fallen, they would have found it
difficult, as did the knights of old, to rise again.

About four times a day the soldier crept into his Webb equipment,
struggled over the side, swayed violently on the frail rope ladder,
tumbled into the waiting boat, and pulled slowly to the shore.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The warships and transports leaving Mudros Harbour for the attack on
the Peninsula.]

The days passed all too quickly. Conference upon conference was held
on the flagship; much interest was awakened by the issue of maps; and
the thrill of intense anticipation was quickened by Sir Ian Hamilton's
famous Force Order:--

 "Soldiers of France and the King--

 Before us lies an adventure unprecedented in modern war. Together with
 our comrades of the fleet we are about to force a landing upon an open
 beach in face of positions vaunted by our enemy as impregnable.

 The landing will be made good by the help of God and the Navy, the
 positions will be stormed, and the war brought one step nearer to a
 glorious close.

 'Remember,' said Lord Kitchener, when bidding adieu to your commander,
 'remember, once you set foot upon the Gallipoli Peninsula, you must
 fight the thing through to a finish.' The whole world will be watching
 your progress. Let us prove ourselves worthy of the great feat of arms
 entrusted to us."

  IAN HAMILTON, General.

Let it never be said that the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force held
its opponent cheaply. The seriousness of the situation was obvious,
but the troops were imbued with the fact that with proper backing
they could not fail, and whatever sacrifice should be demanded, that
sacrifice would be gladly made.

At 2 o'clock on the afternoon of April 24, there steamed from Mudros
Harbour that great armada, led by the "Queen Elizabeth," with Sir
Ian Hamilton on board. As the New Zealand transports rode at anchor
near the entrance, ship after ship passed out at a few cable lengths'
distance. The destroyers fussed and fumed about, while the battleships
steamed steadily on to take up their position for the early morning
bombardment. As each battleship, cruiser, transport and trawler slipped
past, great cheers were exchanged; then night came quietly on; lights
blinked and twinkled over the expanse of the great harbour; and a great
hush fell on the place until about midnight, when the New Zealand
ships lifted their anchors and picked their way through the minefields
towards the open sea.


The Anzac Landing.

Early on Sunday morning the intention of Army Headquarters was made
clear by the issue of orders for the attack. A study of the map
revealed three dominating land features. In the south, overlooking Cape
Helles, was the great hump of Achi Baba. Inland from Suvla Bay was
the tangled mass of cliffs, valleys and hills culminating in the peak
of the Sari Bair system, which, from its height marked in feet, was
afterwards known as "Hill 971." Lying further over near the Straits and
protecting the fortress on the European side, was the mountain system
known as the "Pasha Dagh" or Kilid Bahr Plateau. Both Achi Baba and
Hill 971 had to be captured before attempting the plateau, which latter
having fallen, we could take possession of the great fortresses of
Kilid Bahr, and Chanak on the opposite shore. These two places in our
hands, the passage of the fleet would be largely a matter of careful
mine sweeping.

In order to mystify the enemy and to encourage him to disperse his
forces, two subsidiary attacks were undertaken. Away up at Bulair
a fleet of empty transports, accompanied by a few men-of-war, were
to make a demonstration. Down on the Asiatic coast the French were
to land, reduce Kum Kale and the forts in the neighbourhood, and
then withdraw. The 29th and Royal Naval Divisions were to land on
several beaches at the extremity of the Peninsula and push on towards
Krithia and Achi Baba, being reinforced by the French Division after
its withdrawal from Kum Kale. The Australian and New Zealand Army
Corps was ordered to force a landing on the beach between Gaba Tepe
and Fishermen's Hut. Hill 971 itself was to be avoided, the troops
endeavouring to pass over its southern under-features to the road
running from Boghali and Maidos. Mai Tepe was a hill specifically
mentioned. "The capture of this position would threaten and perhaps cut
the line of retreat of the enemy's troops on Kilid Bahr plateau, and
have far-reaching results," said the operation order.


Illustrating the projected landings at Cape Helles, Gaba Tepe, and Kum

Passing Cape Helles.

When morning fully broke the New Zealand transports were nearing Cape
Helles. The big guns of the fleet were pounding the forts until the
horizon seemed a mass of smoke and flame. Over against Kum Kale the
French ships were hotly engaged; off Cape Helles the British stood
close into the forts. Again we saw our old friend the "Askold"--now
christened the "Packet of Woodbines," because of her five long funnels.
The noise of the naval bombardment was truly extraordinary--the sharp
crack of the lighter guns; the ear-splitting roar of the 12-inchers;
and booming clearly above them all, the tremendous reports from the
15-inch guns of the "Queen Elizabeth." Watching from the rail, the
soldiers were very sorry for the Turk. It seemed impossible that
anything could live through such a bombardment. At the morning service,
with the reverberation of the incessant gunfire assailing our ears, we
found it difficult to hear the padre reading "In the midst of life we
are in death." From across the water the bark of the 6-inch guns struck
harshly on the singing of the soldiers' favourite hymns.


  [_Photo by Col. Hughes, C.M.G., D.S.O._


The old "London" steaming towards Anzac Cove.]

Just opposite Gaba Tepe the transports slowed down. Like children
kept inside on a wet day, we were very impatient. A desire to be
doing something possessed all ranks. The men broke up cases and split
the wood for kindling fires ashore. Every man pushed seven or eight
pieces through the straps on the back of his pack. Many seized the
opportunity to write the letter that most thoughtful soldiers write
at the beginning of a campaign--a letter to be carried in the breast
pocket and only to be forwarded by the comrade that buries him--tender
farewells, simply and beautifully written, as men always do write when
they are face to face with the things that really matter.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The ship in the foreground has disembarked Echelon A and is steaming
out to make room for the next transport.]

In groups of four the transports, covered by the battleships, moved
up to about a mile off shore, disembarked the troops of the first
echelon, and then moved to the rear, letting the next four continue
the manoeuvre. On our port side the old twin-funnelled "Majestic"
belched a stream of 12-inch shells on the ridges; away to starboard,
the four long funnels of the "Bacchante" were dimly discernible through
a tremendous column of smoke. Southwards, as far as the eye could see,
were transports innumerable, and closer in-shore, the angry, barking

Going Ashore.

The destroyers were taking their human freights as far in as they
dared--and the average t.b.d. commander will dare a good deal. Over the
side and down the swaying rope ladders we went for the last time. This
was not a Mudros Harbour practice. We felt uncommonly clumsy and three
times our ordinary size. With our hob-nailed boots we clattered about
the iron deck, until it was so crowded we had perforce to stand still.

Now the picket boat zone was reached. Off the destroyer and into a
barge. Six barges made a tow. The little steamboat puffed and tugged,
and off we swerved like a sinuous snake.

The 3rd Australian Brigade made the first landing about 5 in the
morning, and had cleared the first ridges. New Zealand Headquarters
landed at 10 a.m.; then there was a strange hitch, and the precious
hours between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m. were wasted. By this time the Turk
had in some measure made up his mind about the real attack and had
concentrated his guns on the beach. He only had to fire at the water's
edge, consequently he had no difficulty in ranging by the map. He knew
that the Landing must be in a very circumscribed area, and his ranging
was good. Shells plopped in the water all round as the tows set a
course for the beach.

[Illustration: [_Photo by Lieut. Moritzson, M.C., M.M_


A destroyer making ready to tow barges from the "Lutzow."]

Boat after boat of wounded passed us going back to the transports they
had left only a few hours before. They waved their blood-stained arms
and cheered with feeble cheers. The encouragement was certainly welcome.

We were now well within range. Rifle and shrapnel fire was whipping the
water round the boats. About 300 yards from the shore the barges were
cast loose, and each with a naval rating as coxswain, pulled vigorously
for the beach. Casualties were frequent. As the boats grounded, the
men tumbled out; many were hit in the water and were drowned. A major,
jumping from the bows--the water was about 2 feet deep--was hit in
the knee. He fell into the surf, but was hauled on board again, and
the picket boat towed him back to the transport he had just left.
The survivors fell in and adjusted their heavy equipment under the
protection of the sandy cliff.

Straight into the Battle.

Up in the maze of gullies the Australians were struggling with the
Turks. As each company or platoon came ashore it was rushed up to
the firing line. Casualties and the broken country made control very
difficult, and up where the tide ebbed and flowed, the natural leaders
of men, whether they happened to be officers or privates, led their
little groups to the attack or stood stubbornly at bay among the
scrub-clad hills.


  [_Photo by Col. Hughes, C.M.G., D.S.O._


A tow going ashore about noon of April 25.]

The orders given to our Division on disembarkation were for the New
Zealand Infantry Brigade to prolong the line to the left of the 1st
Australian Division, and particularly to support the left of the Third
Brigade, which had landed as the covering force to the Army Corps; the
4th Australian Infantry Brigade was to be held in reserve. The landing
of the Auckland Battalion was completed at 12 noon. Walker's Ridge was
given as its objective. By 12.30 p.m., two companies of the Canterbury
Battalion were ashore, and were directed to support the Auckland

[Illustration: "IN THE AIR."

A transport mule descending into a barge.]

At 1 p.m., the Auckland Battalion was recalled from Walker's Ridge
and brought more to the right, to occupy Plugge's Plateau, in order
more directly to connect with the left of the covering brigade. The
two Canterbury companies prolonged the left flank of the Auckland
Battalion, in the direction of Walker's Ridge. Between 12.30 p.m. and
5 p.m. the Otago Battalion arrived and was sent up to Plugge's Plateau
in support of the Auckland Battalion. When the remaining two companies
of the Canterbury Battalion arrived they were sent to Walker's Ridge to
prolong and reinforce the left flank.

Owing to the accuracy of the enemy big-gun fire, the transports with
our field guns aboard were temporarily forced to retire. The Turkish
gunners were punishing us severely, and we realized to the full the
bitterness of not being able to effectively retaliate. But the Indian
Mountain Batteries endeared themselves to all by their sacrificing
efforts. Gallantly led, these matchless gunners, with their patient
mules, wheedled their guns up to seemingly inaccessible vantage points;
unlimbering, they would get in a dozen effective shots and be down in
the gully and up to an alternate position before their opponents could
sense the situation.

All along the beach, under the scanty shelter of the cliff, the wounded
lay--some on stretchers, some on blankets, others on the shingle. The
surgeons worked as they never had before. Wounded poured down from the
hills incessantly. The picket boats towed their barges, crammed with
troops, to the beach, and seemed to take away almost as many wounded.

The sun went down and the ships stood over against Samothrace
silhouetted in the sunset. But with the night came no peace. The Turks
attacked with renewed vigour--reinforcements had arrived for them.
Blowing trumpets and shouting "Allah!" they surged forward. Our fellows
ran to meet them, cursing in good round English and very bad Arabic. Up
there in the tangled gullies many a strange duel was fought that night.
When not actually fighting, men dug for their lives. Then on would come
the Turks again, shovels would be dropped, and the attack repelled. One
desperate rush was stemmed by a gallant band headed by a corporal with
nothing more effective than a pick-handle.

A Desperate Night.

As the evening wore on, the beach became one long lane of suffering
soldiers. The doctors could only attend to the most severe cases. Many
a man, when asked if he was badly hurt, said, bravely enough, "Oh, no!"
and died quietly in the night.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The mule lines did not stay long unmolested. "Beachy Bill" ranged on
them one day and caused awful havoc. They were then shifted up the
deres for protection.]

The stretcher bearers were magnificent. From the order, "Stretcher
squads fall in" at the moment of landing, these men slaved on the
ridges and in those valleys of torment. A man without a load can dash
from cover to cover, but the stretcher bearers, with their limp and
white-faced burdens, must walk steadily on, ignoring sniper and hostile
gunner. From the front line it took about two and a half hours to get a
patient to the hospital on the beach. Hour after hour the work went on,
until after twenty hours' stretcher bearing these unheeded heroes fell
in their tracks from sheer exhaustion. Volunteers took up the work,
but after a few hours' rest, the gallant souls were out again--medical
officers, stretcher bearers and hospital orderlies literally working
themselves to death in an endeavour to mitigate the awful anguish of
the wounded men of Anzac. "I shall never forget that night," said a
sergeant of the N.Z.M.C., "A twelve-stone weight on the stretcher,
a dark night, a little drizzling rain, groping our way down a steep
incline through prickly scrub, our wounded man crying with pain and
begging for a drink every few yards, incessant rifle fire, and bullets
whizzing all round us." Except those who lay so very quietly up in the
scrub or on the shell-swept beach, no one rested that night. The firing
line was gradually becoming a little defined as the tired soldiers on
both sides became exhausted.

[Illustration: THE CROWDED BEACH.]


  [_Photo by the Author_


The units were inextricably mixed--Australian and New Zealand
infantry clung doggedly to the hardly-won crest line. Approximately,
the Australian 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Brigades held the right flank; the
centre was in a state of flux, but the 4th Australian Brigade held
the ridges at the head of Monash Gully; the Otago trenches grew
up overlooking Monash Gully; the Aucklanders dug in along Plugge's
Plateau; the Canterbury Battalion were desperately engaged on Walker's
Ridge, where their gallant commander (Lieut.-Colonel Stewart) fell
at the head of his men. The Wellingtons landed in the dark and went
straight up to Plugge's Plateau. The gunners laboured all through the
night preparing for the eagerly expected howitzers; while the sappers
hastily improvized a second line of defence along Plugge's Plateau down
Maclagan's Ridge to the sea. Here the last stand would be made if the
worst came, but the morning broke and the outer line was still intact;
picks were laid aside and the indomitable men of Anzac again took up
their rifles to face the trials of the day.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Taken from Howitzer Gully, showing the road cut round the cliffside.]


The First Week.

No one had slept during the night. Re-embarkation was suggested, but a
conference was held and the Generals decided to hold on. The men made
strenuous efforts. Those not actually fighting were employed making
roads up Maclagan's Ridge in the centre, and up Walker's Ridge on the
left, in order that the guns might be man-handled up to the positions
selected by the artillery commanders.


  [_Photo by the Author_


The stern of the horse boats dropped in the water makes an inclined
plane down which the gun is manhandled. The country was too rough for
horses, but fifty men on a rope can overcome most obstacles.]

About midnight, three companies of the 15th Battalion, 4th Australian
Infantry Brigade, arrived and were sent up to reinforce the 1st
Australian Division away on the right. They had been hardly pressed
just before sunset, and orders were given that all available troops
were to support the covering force (the 3rd Australian Infantry
Brigade) as they arrived, and to connect up with the New Zealand
Infantry Brigade on the left. During the remainder of the night,
platoons and companies of the Wellington Battalion of the New Zealand
Infantry Brigade, and of the 13th, 15th, and 16th Battalions of the 4th
Australian Infantry Brigade, were brought ashore.

The troops arrived in very irregular order--some from one ship and
some from another. As each platoon or company came ashore, it was
immediately despatched, under the senior officer present, to support
the right flank, where the 1st Australian Division was most hotly
engaged. The result was that units of both divisions became hopelessly
mixed up, and it was several days before they could be disentangled.

By 3 a.m., the whole of the Australian 13th Battalion had arrived.
The bulk of it was held temporarily in reserve. One and a half more
companies of the Wellington Battalion now occupied Plugge's Plateau,
above the beach, and half a company had been sent off to join the 1st
Australian Division on the right. By 5 a.m., the remaining company
of the Wellington Battalion had arrived, and by 6 a.m., a section of
the New Zealand Howitzer Battery was brought ashore, and gladdened
the heart of every infantryman as it came into action at the foot of
Howitzer Gully. "Boom!" went the howitzer. "The guns, thank God! the
guns!" murmured the tired soldiers.

Shrapnel Gully.

The Turk quickly realized that the valley running from behind Hell Spit
deep into the centre of Anzac must be the channel of communication.
His gunners were so assiduous that it was quickly christened Shrapnel
Gully. The top of this valley was afterwards known as Monash Gully.

The glory of the spring was still on the Peninsula. Birds sang in the
bushes, and the fragrance of crushed wild thyme perfumed the morning
air. Patches of red poppies glowed in the sheltered open places. Draped
around the prickly scrub were festoons of wild honeysuckle. But down in
the bottom of Shrapnel Valley was a dreadful sight. The moist earth in
the old creek bed had been ploughed into mud by thousands of hurrying
feet. Soldiers, in their eagerness to get forward, had thrown off their
kits and equipment, and there the debris lay, punched and trampled
into the mess. Dead mules were scattered about in helpless attitudes.
Every few yards one met soldiers--their clothes torn by rock and scrub,
their bodies mangled by bullet and bomb--stumbling down that Valley of
Death to have their wounds dressed at the casualty clearing stations.
A steady stream of stretcher bearers carried back limp forms; shrapnel
burst high in the air; machine guns spluttered; mountain guns barked;
the crash and rattle of musketry never ceased as the echoes rolled
round the myriad hillsides. High over all, black specks up in the sky,
but watchful as of old, the vultures gathered together, knowing full
well that blood was being spilt.


  [_Photo by the Author_


This picture was taken a few days after the landing, and shows the
dugouts of the 4th Howitzer Battery and Divisional Engineers, near
the foot of Howitzer Gully. The scrub is still uncut on the slopes of
Maclagan's Ridge and Plugge's Plateau.]

The drumfire down at Helles boomed all day. The old battleships, with
their big guns, raked the Turkish positions, while the big 15-inchers
of the "Queen Elizabeth" roared loudly above the great roll of gunfire.
The moral support afforded by this ship was incalculable. "Good old
Lizzie," the soldiers shouted, as her great guns spoke. Optimistic
always, the men looked continually for signs of the British and French
advancing from Cape Helles. When the second day's battle was at its
height, the cry was raised, "Cease fire! the English troops are here,"
but it was only a ruse of the Turks--and the musketry battle resumed
its violence. Cries of "Cease fire" and "Retreat" shouted in English,
caused at first a momentary wavering, but soon the Colonial soldiers
realized the deceptions, and the would-be deceivers shouted commands in

The End of the Second Day.

The second day crept to a close, and our lines were hourly being made
secure. Units were inextricably mixed, but, roughly, the Australian
Division held the line south of Courtney's Post, while the N.Z. and A.
Division held Courtney's and all northwards of it.

No man thought of rest: to work was salvation.

On top of a big yellow mound at the head of Monash Gully there was
a rough cross, inscribed, "Here lie buried twenty-nine soldiers of
the King." Two of these men--one an Australian of the 14th Infantry
Battalion, the other a sapper of the New Zealand Engineers--had been
found just below the fatal crest of Courtney's Post, with their arms
still clasped around each other's waists. As they lay among the scrub,
those poor lifeless bodies seemed symbolical of the new spirit that
had grown up on the Peninsula. While in Egypt, the Commonwealth and
Dominion soldiers had their little differences; but the first two days
on the Peninsula swept away all the little jealousies and the petty
meannesses. Every man helped his neighbour. There was no question of
corps, or rank, or colour. By common trials, a common suffering, and
a common interest, Australian, Indian, and New Zealander realized
they were brothers in fact, as in arms. These first two days made
great things possible within the Empire. The experience of those sweet
sensations of brotherhood will be cherished and handed down as one of
the priceless gifts of Anzac.


  [_Photo by Col. J. G Hughes, C.M.G., D.S.O._


The New Zealand machine gun sections experienced a particularly trying
time. They were attached to individual battalions and were not fought
as a unit. The Auckland guns were pushed forward with their battalion,
and somewhere at the head of Monash Gully were so hard pressed that
they had to abandon one gun, which was retrieved from its hiding place
two days after. The Otagos also came under a very hot fire. They, too,
abandoned a gun, but never regained it, as an Australian party found it
and consistently refused to give it up! Right through the campaign the
Otago Regiment were one gun short, fighting only three guns.

The Wellington gunners were heavily punished on April 27. They
evidently pushed too far forward in their eagerness to get at the
Turks, but snipers picked them off one by one, until the officer was
killed and the whole of the personnel disabled, except one lad who was
acting as ammunition carrier.

Gradually the field artillery got their guns from the barges, and with
long ropes manhandled them to their almost inaccessible positions.
Tracks were cut on the hillsides, rough jetties were improvised, and
dugouts were constructed. Mostly these were holes in the ground big
enough for a man and his mate to get nearly into. A waterproof sheet
served as roof, and when it rained, as it did nearly every night, the
waterproof sheet collected and deposited on the occupants whatever
water had fallen in the catchment area.

Washing became a lost art. Mirrors were converted into periscopes. The
previously spic-and-span New Zealand Army grew dirty-faced, unshaven,
and ragged looking.

The rum ration was a boon at this time, as it engendered a little
warmth, and enabled one, if off duty, to get a little sleep. "Stand-to"
was at 4 o'clock, half an hour before dawn, when the entire force in
the trenches and on the beach stood to arms in readiness for an attack.

The First Landing at Suvla.

The front line having been made fairly secure, attention had to be
turned to the flanks. A glance at the map will show Nibrunesi Point,
near Suvla Bay, about four miles to the north of Ari Burnu, and Gaba
Tepe about two miles south. On both these promontories the Turks had
look-outs, from which their observers spotted the effect of artillery
fire. As with glasses they could see all that occurred in Anzac Cove,
it was considered necessary to destroy both look-outs.


  _[Photo by the Author_


For the Gaba Tepe cutting-out expedition Australians were detailed.
Nibrunesi Point was assigned to the New Zealanders. Three officers and
fifty men of the Canterbury Battalion (13th Westland Company) and an
officer and two N.C.O.'s of the N.Z.E. were employed.

The party left Anzac Cove in the dark early one morning and steamed
up the coast in a torpedo-boat destroyer. The plan was to land on
the northern side of the Peninsula and work upwards to the highest
point--Lala Baba. Two destroyers came close in and commanded each side
of the Peninsula, whilst the old "Canopus" stood further out to sea and
supported the whole. If the Turks at Anafarta behaved badly they would
receive chastisement by the guns of His Majesty's Navy.

The observation post itself had some attention from the big ship the
day before; but it was not known whether opposition would now be met
with. The instructions were to destroy the station, get any prisoners
for the Intelligence Officers, and to seek for and destroy a gun that
the naval airmen had reason to suspect was being placed there.

The party got ashore without mishap. Day had now broken, and in three
groups the attackers crept up the gullies towards the crest. It was a
dewy morning, and the fresh, clean smell of the Turkish meadow flowers
mingled with the scent of the wild thyme crushed with the soldiers'
hobnailed boots.

The place seemed deserted. There was a traversed trench just below the
crest. Most of the troops had jumped it, when--crack! crack! crack!
broke on the morning silence. Down dropped the Westlanders; then rushed
back to the trench, and there, in the sunlight, was the picture--the
trench full of squirming Turks, and standing over them with threatening
bayonets the gallant boys from Greymouth. Johnny Turk had been caught
napping, and the initiative of the New Zealand private soldier had
sealed his fate. It was then realized that the few Turkish phrases
laboriously learned did not convey much to the terrified prisoners.
They quickly decided that the proper thing to do was to throw all their
arms out of the trench--and out they came, rifles, knives and even
safety razors. The poor Turkish wounded lay groaning in the bottom
of the trench, while the unwounded, on their knees, murmured "Allah!
Allah!" and passed their hands mechanically from their foreheads to
their breasts and back again. A few men were left to get the wounded
and prisoners down to the boat; the remainder scoured the Suvla flats
in full view of the Turks on the Anafarta hills.

Three small houses proved to be empty, but in them were found the kits
of the guard; in one, the cells of a telephone instrument, with which
the garrison communicated with their headquarters at Anafarta. The
wire was cut, and a slab of guncotton placed in each of the houses to
demolish them.


  [_Photo by Lieut. Moritzson, M.C., M.M., N.Z.E._


Shells falling among bathers off Hell Spit.]

The gun position was located, but there was no gun mounted. The dead
Turks were covered over in their own trench, the charges in the
houses were fired, and the party, with captured papers and prisoners,
re-embarked without mishap and returned at noon to Anzac.

Thus was the first landing at Suvla carried out successfully by New
Zealanders without a single casualty.

The Australian attempt on Gaba Tepe was most unfortunate. The Turks at
this place were not caught napping. As at Helles, barbed wire ran down
into the water and machine guns enfiladed the landing place. After
sustaining many casualties, the party withdrew, and the Turkish post on
Gaba Tepe remained a thorn in the side of Anzac until the evacuation.

The Nerve-Centre of Anzac.

A walk along Anzac Cove was full of interest and incident. The little
landing beach--a shelving strip of shingle, only twenty-five yards
wide--was never safe, but in a measure it was protected from shrapnel
by the height of Plugge's Plateau and the two ridges running down
towards Hell Spit and Ari Burnu. The Cove became the nerve-centre of
Anzac: nestling under the low cliffs on the beach were the Headquarters
of the Army Corps, the hospital of the Field Ambulance, the Ordnance
and Supply Depots.

General Birdwood had located his Army Corps Headquarters in the little
gully debouching on to the centre of the beach. Close by were the naval
shore parties with their wireless plant for maintaining communication
with the fleet; the Headquarters of the Australian Division were tucked
away a little further up the gully.

The southern extremity of Anzac Cove was christened Hell Spit. Jutting
out into the water, this point got the benefit of fire from both of
the flanks. Here were situated the engineers' stores of explosives and
materials; working parties sent for wire, sandbags or timber, did not
dwell too long in the vicinity. Close by, under the sandy cliff, the
mule drivers of the Indian Supply and Transport had made their little
dugouts--the waves of the Ægean lapping their very thresholds. At the
foot of the track leading over the spur to Shrapnel Valley were the
dressing stations of the Australian Ambulance, with their little Red
Cross wharf from which the wounded were evacuated. Just opposite Army
Headquarters some of the many stranded barges were made to serve as
landing stages for great quantities of bully beef, jam and biscuits,
which, placed in high stacks, gave some protection from the shells
constantly arriving from the Olive Grove and Anafarta. Hereabout the
water barge was also moored; the water being pumped ashore into tanks.

The New Zealand Sector.

The beach north of these stores was allotted to our Division. A little
gully running up to the foot of Plugge's Plateau gave excellent
cover for the New Zealand battery of 4.5 howitzers--the first New
Zealand guns to get ashore, and the only howitzers at that time on
the Peninsula. In those early days, infantry carrying parties were
constrained to rest awhile in order to observe the shell pursue its
lobbing course over Maclagan's Ridge towards the distant target.


  [_Lent by Lieut. Moritzson, M.C., M.M., N.Z.E._


At the foot of Howitzer Gully were the New Zealand Ordnance Stores--for
a time the most frequented place in Anzac. Fresh water was unobtainable
for washing purposes. Continual washing of clothes in salt water made
all undergarments very hard, so down to the Ordnance would the soldier
go to procure new shirts and socks. Here, also, were piles of captured
rifles and ammunition, and a pathetic heap of kits which had been
thrown away during the first advance and since collected. A one-time
famous old wrestler stood guard over these kits, and one had to
establish an undeniable claim before the property was handed over. Very
many of the kits were never claimed, being stained with the life-blood
of those impetuous spirits who had established the Anzac line.

The mule lines of the Indian Transport Corps ran along the beach in
front of Divisional Headquarters. Close by, the dressing station of the
New Zealand No. 1 Field Ambulance caught the streams of wounded that
flowed down Howitzer Gully and from Walker's Ridge. Out in front of the
hospital squatted an Indian mule driver, who spent most of his time
clipping mules. Between his bursts of singing in a minor key he would
cry, "Hair cut, sixpence!" The soldier, who by this time realized that
more than snipers took advantage of cover, would sit on the sandy bank
and have his hair cut short by the mule clippers.


  [_Lent by Col. Falla, C.M.G., D.S.O._


The northern extremity of Anzac Cove never received an English name,
but was always known as Ari Burnu. The beach north of this point was
unsafe for traffic in the daytime, as it was within easy range of
Turkish snipers. A few hundred yards along this stretch of white sand
were two or three stranded boats--boats that had run in there on the
day of the landing, but were stove in and their crews killed by hostile
fire. There they lay, a pitiful sight, out in the glare of the noonday
sun. To avoid this piece of dangerous beach by day, a communication
trench commenced in Anzac Cove along by the wireless station near Ari
Burnu. This trench doubled back across the point, running out towards
Mule Gully and Walker's Ridge, eventually becoming part of the "Big
Sap" that led towards the extreme left flank.

Land was valuable at Anzac, particularly land that was safe. The parts
that were exposed could not be used for dugouts or stores, so were set
apart as cemeteries. Here, on the point of Ari Burnu, between the Big
Sap and the sea, New Zealanders who were killed near Anzac Cove were
carefully carried after dark and buried by loving comrades.

The Tragic Lack of Hospital Ships.

If there was one thing that showed our unpreparedness for war on
a large scale, it was the neglect to anticipate accommodation for
wounded. This did not apply only to the New Zealanders--British,
French, Colonial and Indian suffered alike. The regimental medical
officers and stretcher bearers did more than mortal men could be
expected to do. But a man hit up on Walker's Ridge or at the head
of Monash Gully, after receiving his field dressing at a sheltered
corner of a trench or in the regimental aid post, had to be carried
in the heat, down bullet-swept valleys and along the dangerous beach.
Here the surgeons and orderlies of the Field Ambulances redressed
the wounds, gave the men something to eat and drink, and placed them
out of the sun, away from the torturing flies. Even in these Field
Ambulance dressing stations men were not immune from the shrapnel which
swept the beach. The Turk could not be blamed for this, as we had, of
necessity, to place our hospitals wherever there was room. Streams of
men constantly arrived, some walking, many on stretchers--Zionists
with tears streaming down their faces, determined Colonials and
pathetic-looking Indians--wounded in our cause, now separated from
their fellows, and miserable because they could not understand the
sahibs' language.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


Men, sick unto death, lying in the scuppers; tired, suffering,
uncomplaining men with bloodstained kits, and wounds that became septic
before Alexandria was reached.]

When night came, the picket boats would move into the little Red Cross
wharves, and the wounded men were carried to the barges. When a tow was
ready, the picket boat started on its journey for the hospital ship or
transport. The high ground surrounding Anzac Cove ensured that bullets
clearing the crest went many hundred yards out to sea. Some days, when
Turkish firing was brisk, the sea was whipped into a white foaming
line where the bullets splashed angrily into the water. Through this
barrage of singing bullets the Red Cross barge must go. Picket boats or
trawlers could not dodge from place to place like soldiers in Monash
Gully, so they had to risk it, and take it in their course.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


Outside the range of these "overs" were the waiting ships. The hospital
ships proper had good appliances for handling wounded. A long box would
be lowered over the side, the man and the stretcher placed bodily
into it, and hauled up on to the deck, where he was seized by waiting
orderlies and whisked away to wards for a diagnosis, a hot bath, some
very necessary insecticide, and a meal to suit his particular needs.
But the hospital ships soon became overcrowded. Hundreds of men were
accommodated on the decks without cots. They did not complain. They
came to the war voluntarily, and took what was coming to them as a
matter of course. Ask a sorely wounded man if he wanted anything, and
if it was not a drink of water, it would be a laconic "Have you got a
green?" He seemed more annoyed with the ration cigarettes than he was
with the Turk.

Presently the cry would be, "Ship full!" and the next load would be
taken to an ordinary transport, dirty, full of vermin, and entirely
unsuited for handling wounded. But it had to be. Nothing better was
offering. So the wounded men--tossing about on the barge, seasick, with
their clothes stiff with blood and their heads burning with the fever
resulting from wounds--were hauled up with the improvized tackle to the
dirty decks of the transport. There were few medical officers. Some
came from the overworked and understaffed field ambulances ashore, and
laboured like galley slaves against the tremendous inrush of broken
men. Naval surgeons and dressers left their battleships and toiled
heroically among the wounded Colonials. But there were not enough
doctors to do a tenth of the work. In the old British way, we were
paying for unpreparedness with the flesh and blood of our willing
young men. On one ship, the only man with any knowledge of medicine
was the veterinary officer, who, assisted by clerks and grooms of
the waiting Echelon B, saved dozens of lives by prompt and careful
attention. So, with a score of men dying on each ship every night,
the transports crept with their cargoes of human wreckage to the port
of Alexandria--the hospital ships going on to Malta, Gibraltar, or
even England. In Egypt, great emergency hospitals were opened, and
everything possible was done to alleviate the dreadful suffering of the
heroic and uncomplaining soldiers of the Mediterranean Expeditionary


At the Head of Monash Gully.

From the first the Turk held the high ground. Soldiers will realize
what that meant. The Anzac army was as yet an untried one, and all new
troops are apt to keep their heads down. This is but natural. It must
not be forgotten that this was strange country to the newcomers, and
that snipers lay concealed in every little dere.


This very interesting picture shows the long white line, the limit of
our furthest advance. The terraces of Quinn's can be seen perched on
the side of the cliff.]

The Turk as a soldier was never to be despised. Centuries of history
studded with names such as Kossovo in olden times and Plevna in modern,
show that the Turk is a good soldier even if he is a bad governor.
The operations against Turkey in this war prove that in trenches the
Turk is as good a soldier as he was of old. But the natural aptitude
of the Colonial as a hunter soon asserted itself, and cunning marksmen
proceeded to stalk the wily snipers. As the trench systems grew up,
points of vantage, screened by branches, were occupied by the best
shots, accompanied by an observer with a periscope. This gave an
Australian corporal of engineers an idea that was instantly availed
of--the application of a periscopic attachment to the ordinary service


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


The necessary glass for the mirrors was not available, but over on the
horizon were a hundred transports waiting with stores and horses.
A fleet-sweeper with a working party went out one fine morning and
called on each ship. From the ornate saloons and the cabins the mirrors
were removed, lowered gently to the deck of the trawler, and hurried
off to Anzac Cove. There the sappers cut the mirrors into little
parallelograms and slipped the pieces into the wooden frames at the
requisite angles. In a few weeks the new periscopic rifle was in use
all along the line, and from that time the superiority of fire was
ours, and it was the Turk's turn to keep his head down.

Straightening the Line.


At the end of the first week it was obvious that our defensive line
could be much improved. Between Pope's and Walker's Ridge there was a
deep canyon--one of the forks at the head of Monash Gully. The Turk
held the high ground looking down the canyon, so that, troops who were
at Pope's, if they wanted to get around to Walker's, had to go away
down Monash Gully, along the beach, and up Walker's Ridge--a distance
of nearly three miles, whereas the gap in the front line between Pope's
and Walker's Ridge was only about 200 yards.

Again, between Pope's and Quinn's there was a ridge, so far unnamed.
This ridge was practically "No Man's Land," and, if occupied by the
Turks, would be a dangerous salient to us, as it looked into the back
of Quinn's Post and down the head of Monash Valley.

So it was decided that if the left flank of our line--that is, from
Quinn's to Walker's--was flung forward, a continuous front line could
be obtained and communication within the Anzac area would be much

It was originally decided that this pushing forward of our line would
be made on May 1, but a Turkish attack was launched that evening, and
was heavily repulsed by machine guns and rifle fire from Pope's and
Courtney's Posts, which enfiladed the attacking infantry. Our attack
was postponed until the evening of May 2.

The Canterbury Infantry were to push forward from Walker's, the 4th
Australian Infantry Brigade from the head of Monash Gully, while the
Otago Infantry Regiment were to attack from Pope's and link up the
Australians with the Canterburys who were to advance from Walker's
Ridge. Two battalions of the Royal Naval Division were to be held in
reserve below Quinn's and Courtney's. To get to their appointed place
by 7 p.m., the Otago Infantry had to leave Walker's Ridge on their
three-mile march early in the afternoon.


It is obvious that the further an attack is pressed on Dead Man's
Ridge, the better target is presented for the enemy gunner on the

At 7 p.m. the attack was launched, but the Otago Regiment had suffered
considerable checks on their march round the beach and up Monash
Gully. This part of Anzac was so cut up and broken as to be almost
unbelievable. The Otagos had to pull themselves up part of the way on
a rope fastened on the steep slope of Pope's Hill.

The entire attack was carried out with great dash; but, owing to
the darkness, our unfamiliarity with the country in front, and our
misleading maps, we were brought to a standstill. The Canterburys found
they could not get on from Walker's Ridge; some of our troops were
beaten back, others, particularly the Otagos, hung on grimly through
the long night. The Turk was plentifully supplied with cricket-ball
hand-grenades, while we depended almost entirely on our rifles.

The Christening of Dead Man's Ridge.

As dawn approached, a message came back that the wounded were lying
up in a gully between Pope's and Quinn's, and a party of New Zealand
Engineers started to cut a track up an old watercourse to get the
wounded out. They pushed on past the two battalions of the Naval
Division, and asked them to use their entrenching tools on improving
the track. The men, glad to do something to relieve the strain of
waiting, set to work with a good will, knocking off the corners and
hooking in the sides, until there was quite a passable track to get the
wounded men away.

The scene at the top of that gully will never be obliterated from the
minds of the survivors. Men were lying all over the place, in every
depression and behind every bush. These men had landed on April 25,
had fought unceasingly for over a week on scanty rations and with very
little sleep. Little wonder that they were exhausted, but it must be
said that, apart from the men who were delirious, there was little
murmuring. Hollow-eyed and with pinched faces, these Australians and
New Zealanders waited doggedly. There were no wild cries of "Stretcher
bearer," or "Water," or "Reinforcements." These men realized that
every available man was fighting; that the doctors and orderlies were
overwhelmed with casualties; that water was scarce, and no one was
available to carry it; and that reinforcements would come when they
could be spared.


  [_Photo by the Author_


Taken before the scrub was cut away. Dead Man's Ridge is on the right.
The first trenches can be seen growing up along the crest of Pope's.]

As grey dawn crept in, isolated parties--wild-eyed, clothes torn,
and with blood-smeared bayonets--dashed back from No Man's Land to
the security of the crest, where the Turk must be held should he
counter-attack. One man, demented by suffering and loss of sleep, went
mad and danced on the crest, cursing the Turk, defying him to come on,
and then, in his madness, cursing his comrades taking cover in the
improvized position of defence. One man was crying bitterly because he
had lost his bayonet!

The Turk eventually did attack, but thanks to the defensive line
hastily prepared and the imperturbable Anzac soldiery, only one Turk
got through--an officer, who tumbled into our line with a revolver
bullet in his forehead.

All this took place in No Man's Land, in that little gully to the left
of Quinn's Post, and from that morning it was known as "Bloody Angle."

The units of the Naval Division were then directed to go up the ridge
between Quinn's and Pope's, and their casualties were so heavy that
the name, "Dead Man's Ridge," was instinctively applied to it by

The sorely tried Colonials could not but admit the bravery of the Royal
Marine officers as they led their men up those scrub-covered slopes.
They pressed straight up the goat track, and lined the ridge. As the
ridge was a salient, the Turkish machine gunners from the trenches
opposite our right flank opened fire, and caught the entire line of
men in the back of the head. As fast as the men fell, others pressed
forward to take their places. The officers suffered excessively as
they encouraged their men. On occasions such as these, one realizes
the devilish ingenuity of modern war--bullets streaming as from a
hose, and cutting down everything in the line of fire--men and shrubs
indiscriminately, until the clay slopes of Dead Man's Ridge were
stained with British blood.

The troops holding the safe crestline just a little to the right were
fascinated by the scene--the red and yellow of the hillside, the brave
men steadily climbing up to the fatal crest, the burst of machine-gun
fire as it caught the soldiers on the ridge; then the awful tumble down
the slope until the maimed body came to rest at the foot of the gully
among the sweet wild thyme.


  [_Photo by the Author_


This picture was taken at the end of April, before the scrub was
whittled into matchwood by the hail of bullets.]

The machine-gun fire was too deadly. The survivors reluctantly came
back to the old line, leaving Dead Man's Ridge covered with dead--our
own and the Turks'. Every night for weeks comrades risked their lives
to get the bodies away, but the Turk gradually established himself on
the ridge, and not until Armistice Day were the burials completed.

A party of the Otago Infantry had a most trying time. They did not fall
back with their comrades during the darkness, and suffered severely
all next day. They were hard pressed and given up for lost, but next
evening managed to cut their way out through the exultant Turks.

The Evolution of the Anzac Line

The evolution of the Anzac front line was most interesting. Military
text books lay down principles and often suggest their application to
different situations. It is considered most necessary to get a good
field of fire, so that the maximum loss may be inflicted on the enemy,
and good communications assured for the passage of troops and the
carriage of ammunition and food.

Consider for a moment what really does take place. The tide of battle
sways backwards and forwards until at the end of a desperate day,
those of the troops left alive on both sides sink exhausted behind any
natural cover--it may be a clay bank, a bush, a big stone, a natural
or artificial depression in the ground. Because these men have some
protection while they are firing they often escape becoming casualties.
These are the men who have really established the line. Other men have
got into depressions and behind crests from which they cannot fire
at the enemy at all. The energetic soldiers who have gone forward to
exposed places have undoubtedly performed great service, but generally
at the price of death. So it happens that when night comes, the men
left alive increase the cover they have by digging in; thus the front
line grows up--little "possies," as the soldier calls them, deepened
and connected up with those on the right and left. By daybreak a
line has been constructed--not sited according to the book--it is
probably in the main based on tactical strong points, but many portions
of it are incorporated because of their safety--field of fire hardly
being considered. Here it is that the tactical knowledge of ground is
valuable, and trained officers and men are not slow to take advantage
of it, thus avoiding much dangerous and laborious work later in sapping
and tunnelling.


The distance from Chatham's Post to the mouth of the Sazli Beit Dere is
about 3400 yards: from the centre of Anzac Cove to Quinn's Post, in a
direct line, is 1300 yards.]

At the head of Monash Gully the valley forked into three steep gullies.
The one to the left ran up behind Pope's Hill; the second between
Pope's and Dead Man's Ridge; the third branched slightly to the right
and culminated in the little ravine separating Dead Man's Ridge from
Quinn's Post. Courtney's Post was just to the right of Quinn's, and was
perched upon the side of a steep hill, in many places really a cliff.
On this general line the fighting ebbed and flowed, and on the second
day the troops began really to dig in. Harassed by snipers and bombers,
the troops clung to the ground they had so pluckily won.

The Anzac area now consisted roughly of two lines. Taking the sea as a
base, the inner line resembled a V, starting from Hell Spit, running up
Maclagan's Ridge, around to Plugge's Plateau, and then down the face
of the cliff to Ari Burnu, the northern limit of Anzac Cove. This was
the inner line of defence, and was never really manned, except by field
guns and a howitzer or two.

The outer line was shaped like a boomerang, with Quinn's Post as the
apex. The fire trench started from a point about 1000 yards south of
Hell Spit and ran up the crest of low ridges, thence to the hills
overlooking Monash Gully to Steel's Post, Courtney's and Quinn's;
next came Dead Man's Ridge and the post called Pope's Hill. Here
the impassable ravine intervened, on the other side of which was
the section later known as Russell's Top, whence the line took a
right-angled bend down Walker's Ridge to the sea. There probably never
existed a more tangled and confused line, consisting as it did of
posts perched perilously on the brink of steep cliffs, often not even
connected one to the other.


The three officers are Colonel Johnston, N.Z.I.B.; Lieut-Col. Malone,
Post Commander; and Major Ferguson, R.E., Engineer Staff Officer for
No. 3 Defence Section.]

Quinn's Post.

Of all these posts, Quinn's became the most famous. It was the salient
of the Anzac line and the nearest point to the Turk. Looking back,
it is a marvel that the place ever held at all. If the enemy could
have shelled it, Quinn's would not have lasted five minutes. It was
first held, a ragged trench line just below the crest, by men of the
4th Australian Infantry Brigade, which formed part of the N.Z. and
A. Division. Those famous battalions--the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th
Australian Infantry--established themselves on the night of April 25
at the head of the gully named after their well-known Brigadier. The
Turk seemed determined to regain possession of Quinn's--this would
have imperilled the whole Anzac line, for the holding of Quinn's alone
ensured the communications by way of Shrapnel Valley and Monash Gully.
Because holding Quinn's meant holding Anzac, no labour was too great
to be expended on it. Men in the bomb factory, having completed a
long day's work, turned to again when it was made known that "Quinn's
was short of bombs," and pathetic it was to see these hard-swearing
Australian and New Zealand sappers nodding their heads and dropping off
to sleep with a detonator in one hand and a piece of fuse in the other,
only to wake with a start and, in the small hours of the morning,
carry the product of their toil up to their beloved Quinn's--a journey
of over a mile in the dark with a box of high explosives!

A party of New Zealand Engineers was established in Quinn's and Pope's
from the second day, and their duty was to sap forward with a deep
trench through the crest, and then put T ends on the ends of the saps,
thus making farther towards the Turk a new firing line which gave a
better field of fire. This most dangerous work was much hindered by the
enemy dropping grenades in the head of the sap. Men often had bullet
holes drilled through their long-handled shovels, but despite the
casualties, the work went on.

To the right of Quinn's it was necessary to dig a sap through to join
up with Courtney's, and after much labour and loss this work was
accomplished. To the left of Quinn's was the hotly-contested Dead Man's
Ridge, which, after the morning of May 3, rested in the hands of the
Turk. This vantage point almost looked into the back of Quinn's, and
a work of great magnitude was the construction of a sandbag wall to
protect the tracks to Quinn's from the Turkish machine guns on Dead
Man's Ridge.

It was foreseen that if the enemy commenced mining in earnest, a
fair-sized charge might blow the post off the hillside into Monash
Gully. So counter-mining was decided on. There were no tunnelling
companies then in the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, and the sapper
field companies were too reduced by casualties to do the work. But
all through the Colonial armies were miners and tunnellers--these men
from Broken Hill, Coolgardie, Waihi, Westport, and other places where
coal and gold are won, were formed into companies under experienced
officers, and in a large measure the strenuous labours of these
improvized units at Courtney's, Quinn's and Pope's saved Anzac to the

Right through the twenty-four hours the miners sweated at the tunnel
face, interested in only one thing: how far the man just relieved
had driven in his last shift. There was no talk of limiting the
output or of striking in Anzac, for here there was a great community
of interest--each one was prepared to labour and, if needs be, to
sacrifice himself in the interests of the common weal.


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


One of the best photographs taken of an Anzac trench system. The front
line is just over the crest; the reserve trenches are near the lop left
hand corner; the white earth spilled down the cliffside is from the
mines running out to the front; the zig-zag track up the steep cliff is
clearly shown.]


Our flying men had their headquarters in Mudros Harbour. Daily they
flew up and down the Peninsula, but they were sadly overworked. Mostly
they were seaplanes belonging to the Navy. This was a sad handicap to
our artillery ashore, for guns without aeroplanes spotting for them are
almost as ineffective as a blind pugilist.

[Illustration: ON THE RIGHT FLANK.

Notice the deep communication trenches through the crest to the firing
line, and the 25 graves in the little cemetery.]

Every day out to sea the "sausage ship" could be seen with her big
captive balloon observing for the naval gunners. For the first week no
enemy planes were seen, but one day this new sensation appeared. Eyes
were turned skyward, watching the machine, when someone cried out,
"It's a German." There, sure enough, were the big black crosses instead
of the familiar red, white and blue circles. A rather amusing feeling
of "What do we do now?" pervaded the onlookers. It seemed to be little
use going into the dugout with a waterproof sheet for a roof! But this
time he was only spying out the land, and sailed away without molesting
anyone. Next day he was back with a sting. As necks were craned
upwards, something was seen to leave the machine, and with a succession
of "Whoo! whoo! whoo!" came rapidly to earth, or rather, to water, for
splash it went into the sea 200 yards from Walker's Pier. "Splash!"
came another, and still another, whereupon the plane wheeled back over
the Peninsula and off home. Daily the machines flew over and dropped
their three bombs each, but never was any material damage done.


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


At the head of Monash Gully showers of steel darts, about the size of
a lead pencil, were sometimes dropped, and at intervals the airman
wasted his energies in the distribution of leaflets intimating that
"As the English are in desperate straits, you will be well treated if
you surrender soon." This was sometimes varied by a sheet on which
was a picture of soldiers alleged to be Mohammedan deserters from our
Indian troops, telling of the good time they were having with their
co-religionists. These papers were greatly treasured by the troops as

One of the most beautiful sights in the campaign was witnessed when
one of our seaplanes was attacked by a Turkish anti-aircraft. Standing
on the hillside and looking out over the blue Ægean Sea, the eye would
pick up, sailing through the azure of the Mediterranean sky, the naval
plane with the sun shining on its oiled-silk wings like those of a
great dragon fly. Suddenly, below it, a puff of pure white smoke would
open out as a silk handkerchief does when released from a closed hand.
On would sail the plane, and above it would open another puff of smoke.
So, with unders and overs, the picture would be limned in, until the
eye got tired of watching, and the plane climbed out of range.


The Battle of Krithia.

Bitter as had been the struggle at Anzac, the fight at the southern
end of the peninsula was even more bloody. To the most honourable
traditions of the British Army and Navy was added a further lustre. The
story of the "River Clyde" and the "Lancashire Landing" are amongst the
most tragic and glorious in the history of the British race.

But the advance towards Achi Baba was held up some distance from the
village of Krithia, and General Sir Ian Hamilton made up his mind to
undertake one big final assault before the Turks could receive their

On the night of Wednesday, May 5, the New Zealand Infantry Brigade and
the 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade, were assembled on the bullet-swept
Anzac beach, placed in destroyers and barges and landed just east of
Cape Helles early next morning. Here was the battered "River Clyde,"
and on the cliff to the right Sedd-el-Bahr fort, completely wrecked by
the naval guns.


As the troops moved from the landing place, they saw deep Turkish
trenches and formidable barbed-wire entanglements. The landscape was
vastly different from the hungry hills of Anzac. This was fairly easy
rolling country, intersected with sod walls, through which gaps had
been worn by passing troops; most of the land was cultivated, and
dotted here and there with clumps of fir trees, from behind which the
French 75's and British 18-prs. threw their hail of shrapnel. Among the
18-prs. was the 3rd Battery of New Zealand Field Artillery that had
lain off Anzac, but was not disembarked until landed here at Helles on
May 4. This battery stayed at Helles until the middle of August.


This map shows the route taken by the New Zealand Infantry Brigade on
May 6-7.

On April 25, a landing at "Y2" or Gully Beach was not attempted.
The troops that landed at "Y" Beach were consequently isolated and
eventually withdrawn. The landing at "X" Beach was very successful
and is some times spoken of as the "Implacable Landing." "W" Beach,
afterwards called "Lancashire Landing," and "V" Beach, made famous by
the "River Clyde," were the two most costly landings. The landing at
"S" Beach in Morto Bay was successfully carried out by the 2nd South
Wales Borderers, covered by the "Cornwallis" and the "Lord Nelson."]

Having climbed the heights from the beach, the eye took in at once the
great hump of Achi Baba, the crest just five miles away. Two ridges,
like sprawling arms, ran down to the sea--one towards the Narrows, the
other to the Gulf of Saros. From Sedd-el-Bahr a road traverses the
centre of the Peninsula, running through the village of Krithia, which
is four miles from Sedd-el-Bahr; it skirts the lower slopes to the left
of Achi Baba, rounds the northern shoulder of the Kilid Bahr Plateau,
and so to Maidos, on the shores of the Narrows, thirteen miles in a
direct line from Sedd-el-Bahr. At Krithia, for which village most of
the subsequent desperate fighting took place, the Peninsula is about
three and a half miles across.

Let the reader take any railway guide and select two stations four
miles apart. It is hard to realize that troops like the French, the
29th Division, the Australians, the New Zealanders and the Indians
should be held in such narrow limits for so many months. But with the
sea on the flanks and the enemy holding the high ground, the defence of
a natural fortress like Achi Baba was comparatively easy.

Following on the landings of April 25, the British held the left of the
line, with the French (withdrawn from Kum Kale) on the right. Coming
from the cramped confines of Anzac, the New Zealanders marvelled to
see French officers in blue and red riding up and down the road, and
motor cyclists dashing about with signal messages. Poor Anzac could not
boast of a road on which to run even a bicycle. As a relief from our
inevitable khaki, the French Senegalese with their dark blue uniforms,
the Zouaves with their red baggy trousers, and the French Territorials
with their light blue, imparted quite a dash of colour to the scene. On
May 6, the French away on the right attacked all day, while the Royal
Naval Division moved a little down both sides of the Krithia Road.

In the reconstitution of the British forces for the renewed assault on
Krithia, a new composite division, to be used as a general reserve, was
formed of the 2nd Australian Brigade, the New Zealand Brigade, and a
Naval Brigade consisting of the Plymouth and Drake Battalions.


  [_British Official Photograph._


This was a most daring enterprise. The old ship was specially fitted
to run ashore, when troops were to pour out of the big doors cut in
her sides and fill a string of lighters towed alongside, and so to
the shore to form a bridge. But the 1st Munster Fusiliers, the 2nd
Hampshires and a company of the Dublin Fusiliers were subjected to a
murderous fire and did not get ashore till darkness intervened. Their
endurance and gallantry was a fitting complement to the bravery and
devotion shown by the officers and men of the Royal Navy.]

The New Zealand Brigade in Reserve.

After leaving the congested beach the New Zealand Brigade pushed
across country. The men were much interested in the first sight of
the French 75's. Coming to rest in some fairly level fields, rough
shelter trenches were dug in the moist earth. Shells flew backwards
and forwards all that night, and very few men could sleep owing to the
wet trenches. Everybody was a little hurt because the Australians were
served with Machonochies, whereas the New Zealanders got the usual
bully beef; but a few gay spirits refused to be depressed, and lustily
sang "There's something in the seaside air," which was unfortunately

On the morning of the 7th, extra ammunition and entrenching tools were
issued, and the brigade started on a long trek in a north-westerly
direction, eventually coming down to Gully Beach on the Gulf of Saros.
After a short rest, the march was resumed. The leading files struck
back again up the hill and met many Lancashires coming back wounded.
Everywhere equipment was scattered. Many of our men secured sun
helmets, which later were the envy of Anzac. When word came to rest for
the night and dig in, the brigade pulled off the track to the sides
of the valley, posted outpost groups, and endeavoured to rest for the
night. But there was a good deal of confusion and noise, Ghurkas and
other troops were moving up and down, and presently word came to move
further up the gully. On the weary men stumbled, past a trench held by
the King's Own Scottish Borderers, and eventually arrived near a small
stone farmhouse on the right-hand side of the gully. On both sides
of the road were some old Turkish trenches, in a filthy condition.
Sticking up in the parapet was a dead man's hand, like a stop sign,
seeming to indicate "this far and no farther." Backwards and forwards,
this way and that, men wandered in the search for a comfortable resting
place. Here the brigade passed the night, acting as a reserve to the
87th and 88th Brigades of the 29th Division, but the morning came
without our men being called on.

The shelter of a ruined building was seized upon for a dressing
station. Near by was a large fig tree, which later served as a
landmark for the last resting-place of many New Zealand soldiers. From
this dressing station the wounded were carried by the stretcher-bearers
some distance to the rear to the Pink Farm, whence the mule ambulances
carried the suffering men over the well-worn roads to the beaches.


  [_British Official Photograph._


Here the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers added fresh glory to their
illustrious record. The barbed wire was placed down to the water's edge
and in the water. But the gallant Lancashires were not to be denied and
performed prodigies of valour. The picture shows the steamers sunk to
make a breakwater.]

On the morning of May 8, the New Zealand Brigade was ordered to the
support of the 29th Division. We were to go through the 88th Brigade,
and with the 87th Brigade on our left, renew the attack on Krithia
at 10.30 a.m. The advance was made in a succession of waves; the
Wellingtons were on the left, the Aucklands in the centre, and the
Canterburys on the right; the Otago Battalion was in reserve. After an
intense bombardment by our ship's guns and field artillery, the brigade
advanced from the reserve trenches at 10.30 a.m. The ground was broken,
and this hindered the pace. Many were lost who might have been saved
if this advance had been made before daylight. The troops pressed on
despite the casualties. When the officers ordered a breather, the tired
men fell down flat right out in the open. Past the Hants' trenches and
the Essex trench they went steadily forward until they came to the big
front-line trench held by the 29th Division. From here it was about
800 yards to the enemy main line trench, but scattered in front of his
line, in every depression and behind every clump of bush, were machine
guns and hosts of enemy snipers.

The Daisy Patch.

From this front-line trench the Regulars had advanced the day before,
but had been driven back. Presently the word was passed along that
the New Zealanders would prepare to charge. When some Munsters and
Essex saw the preparations, they shouted, "You're not going to charge
across the daisy patch, are you?" "Of course we are," the Aucklanders
answered. "God help you," they said, and watched with admiration as the
New Zealanders flung themselves over the top.

The converging machine-gun fire from the clumps of fir trees swept the
ground like a hose. This famous "daisy patch" was situated just to the
left of a dry creek-bed running from near the village of Krithia down
the centre of the Peninsula towards the Cape--a piece of ground about
100 yards across, absolutely devoid of cover; apparently it had once
been sown with some crop, but was now overgrown with the common red
poppy of the field and countless long-stemmed daisies comparable to the
dog daisy of England and New Zealand. The bank of the creek afforded
good cover, and the Turkish snipers took full toll of our men.


[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


Taken just before the "Daisy Patch" attack. The officer standing is
Colonel E. F. Johnston. Major Temperly (to whom much credit is due for
the good work of the Brigade) is sitting on a box, facing this way.]

The troops had hardly got a quarter of the way across the patch when
there burst a further terrific storm of machine-gun and rifle fire.
Heavily laden with entrenching tools and equipment, the troops were
exhausted and could go no farther. By 3 p.m. the thin line was digging
itself in.

Canterbury had advanced about 250 yards, Auckland had two companies
about the same distance, but the right company had fallen back owing
to heavy cross machine-gun fire from a clump of fir trees. Wellington
had made good about 300 yards, but were under very heavy fire from a
Turkish trench on our left front. Two companies of the Otago Regiment
were sent in to help Auckland, who had lost heavily and were somewhat

A squadron of armoured cars advanced in fine style up the Krithia Road,
but a few Turkish trenches dug across the road damped their ardour, and
they disconsolately returned to the rear.

All that afternoon our men hung on under a withering fire. The wounded
lying out in the open were hit again and again. Away on the right, the
French could be seen pressing vigorously forward towards the crest,
but were ever beaten back. Times without number they surged forward,
but could not hold the ground so hardly won. Again and again that
awful afternoon did the British, French, Indian, and Colonial soldiers
hurl themselves forward towards the Turk. But the enemy machine guns
were not to be denied; from end to end of the line the attack was
undoubtedly held up.

It was resolved to make one final effort before nightfall. The
remaining two companies of the Otago Battalion were pushed up to
support Wellington's right and Auckland's left, and a newly arrived
draft of New Zealand Reinforcements was moved up into reserve. At 5
p.m., every available gun ashore and afloat opened on the Turkish
lines. Never before had the troops heard such an awesome uproar--the
spiteful French 75's vied with the 15-in. monsters of the Queen
Elizabeth in heaping metal on the Turk. Half an hour later the whole
line advanced against the Turkish lines, but it was more than flesh
and blood could do to make a permanent advance. Everywhere ground was
gained, but at a tremendous price. The thinned-out ranks were not
strong enough to hold what had been gained.

This effort had spent itself before 7 p.m. The Canterburys had gone
forward some 400 yards. The Aucklands went well ahead, but lost very
heavily in officers. They fell back almost to their original line.
Wellington made a substantial advance, but were held up by the enemy
machine guns, which before had proved troublesome. These guns were
difficult to get at, as a deep nullah lay between these guns and the
New Zealanders, and could only be assaulted by the 87th Brigade.


  [_Lent by Capt. Farr, D.S.O., M.C._


After our experience of cover in France, the sheet of galvanized iron
and row of sandbags is almost ludicrous. Notice the typical Gallipoli
hair-cut and the absence of many garments.]

Away on the left a fire broke out among the gorse and scrub. The Sikh
wounded fared very badly in the flames.

After dark it was found that the Canterburys were in direct touch with
the 2nd Australian Brigade on the right. Canterbury's left was not in
touch with anyone, but a second line some distance to the rear filled
the gap. Our line from Wellington's right was also not in touch, but
was protected by trenches of the 87th Brigade echeloned in rear.


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


During the night the position gained was consolidated. The Auckland
Battalion was much disorganized and split up, so was withdrawn to the
reserve trenches. The casualties had been very heavy. Large numbers of
wounded had to spend the night on the battlefield, as their evacuation
was difficult.

At 3.53 p.m. on May 9, an order was received to take over the section
from our left to the Krithia Nullah. The 87th Brigade was to go
into support, the line being held by the Wellingtons, Otagos, and
Canterburys. Part of the 88th Brigade was also retired. The marksmen of
the Canterburys took the enemy snipers by surprise, and established a
moral superiority over them.

The Relief of our Brigade.


During the next few days the weather was good, but the nights were very
cold. The Turks attacked intermittently, but were definitely held.
On the night of May 11, the New Zealanders were relieved by units
of the East Lancashire Division, recently arrived from Egypt. This
was achieved by 3 a.m. on May 12, without much confusion, whereupon
the brigade moved back to its bivouac near the stone bridge on the
Krithia road. Just after arriving there was a heavy fall of rain, which
converted the surroundings into an absolute quagmire. The following
days, however, were beautifully fine, and the men had a much-needed
rest. In the reorganization it was found that the brigade had suffered
a total of 771 casualties at Helles, but all ranks were greatly cheered
by the appreciative comments passed by the Regular Army officers, and
especially by Sir Ian Hamilton's official message: "May I, speaking out
of a full heart, be permitted to say how gloriously the Australians and
New Zealanders have upheld the finest traditions of our race during
this struggle still in progress; at first with audacity and dash,
since then with sleepless valour and untiring resource. They have
already created for their countries an imperishable record of military

Several days of welcome relief from the front line ensued. Men
wandered through the battered forts of Sedd-el-Bahr, and marvelled
at the dismantled guns and twisted ironwork. Others strolled around
the fertile countryside, which was smothered with a profusion of red
poppies, white daisies and blue larkspurs, as if to honour the French
and British occupation.

After dark on the evening of May 19, the brigade again embarked from V
Beach to return to Anzac Cove, where they arrived at dawn next morning.
During the disembarkation a very sad incident occurred in the Auckland
Battalion, which lost another officer, he being the twenty-seventh
officer incapacitated out of the original twenty-nine combatants.


The Arrival of the Mounteds.

During the first few days the troops were exhorted to hold on. There
was no option. The line could not go forward, and it dare not go back.
First it was rumoured that the East Lancashire Division, associated
with us in Egypt, was coming to Anzac; then the 29th Indian Infantry
Brigade from the Suez Canal; but Helles absorbed these. Worst still! On
May 5 the New Zealand Infantry Brigade and the 2nd Australian Brigade
were taken out of Anzac to assist in the thrust towards Krithia. On the
left flank of Anzac, two weak battalions of the Royal Naval Division
took over the line the New Zealand Brigade had vacated.


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


The Anzac position was now reorganized in four defence sections
numbered from right to left. General Bridges, with the 1st Australian
Division, held Sections 1 and 2--that is, from Chatham's Post on the
sea up to, but not including, Courtney's Post. General Godley, with
the N.Z. and A. Division, was responsible for the rest of the line.
No. 3 Defence Section contained the three famous posts at the head of
Monash Gully--Courtney's, Quinn's, and Pope's. Russell's Top, Walker's
Ridge, No. 1 and No. 2 Posts made up No. 4 Section. General Birdwood,
the Army Corps General, was at his headquarters in Anzac Cove, and each
Divisional General was in charge of half the defensive line.

The sections were held as follow:--

 No. I Section (Colonel Sinclair-Maclagan)--3rd Australian Infantry

 No. 2 Section (Brigadier-General Walker)--1st Australian Infantry

 No. 3 Section (Brigadier-General Trotman, R.M.L.I.)--4th Australian
 Infantry Brigade; Royal Marine Brigade (Chatham and Portsmouth
 Battalions); 3 sections No. 1 Field Company, N.Z.E.

 No. 4 Section (Brigadier-General Mercer, R.M.L.I.)--Royal Naval
 Brigade (Nelson and Deal Battalions); 1 section No. 1 Field Company,

We, as a nation, are prone to underrate our efforts and laud those of
our adversaries. Before and during the war it was loudly asserted that
the German Secret Service and German diplomacy always outwitted the
British. To-day the world knows the truth of the matter. Likewise, it
was contended that the Turkish Intelligence Department was superior to
ours. "Look how they always know what we are about to do," said the
critics. Truly, anything planned in Egypt was bound to leak out if it
had to be printed or circulated, as Egypt was always a cosmopolitan
place, where it was unsafe to trust a stranger. But if the Turks knew
so much, why did they not attack Walker's Ridge that anxious week
in May? Any attack must have succeeded, and the thin line of single
trenches once broken, Anzac must have crumpled.

The enemy did nothing serious, and on May 12 the joy at Anzac was
unbounded. The Mounteds had arrived! Every face on the beach was
wreathed in smiles. Here they all were--without their horses, but keen,
and spoiling for a fight--the Australian Light Horse; the New Zealand
Mounted Rifles Brigade, consisting of the Auckland, Wellington, and
Canterbury Regiments; the field troop to reinforce the overworked 1st
Field Company in its sapping and mining; the signal troop, to help with
the telephone and buzzers; and the mounted field ambulance, to assist
their overworked confreres with the wounded.

Whatever the trudging infantry men had thought in Egypt as the mounted
men swept by, to-day there was nothing but the good humoured banter of
"Where's your horses?" As the eager troopers climbed the goat tracks of
Walker's Ridge a great sigh of relief was heaved by the sorely tried
garrison of Anzac. Never were troops more welcome.


The same day, Colonel Chauvel, with the 1st Australian Light Horse
Brigade, took over No. 3 Defence Section from Brigadier-General
Trotman, who embarked with the Chatham and Portsmouth Battalions that
night for Cape Helles.

Brigadier-General Russell relieved Brigadier-General Mercer on Walker's
Ridge. The New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade took over the line from
the Nelson and Deal Battalions, who also left Anzac to rejoin the Royal
Naval Division at Cape Helles.

The highest part of Walker's Ridge became known as Russell's Top,
because, close at hand, practically in the firing line, the commander
of the N.Z. Mounted Rifles Brigade established his headquarters.
Hereabouts No Man's Land was very narrow. Away to the right ran the
deep gully, which, passing behind the back of Pope's Hill, became
Monash Gully. So far, Pope's and Russell's Top were unconnected,
the Turks holding the head of this gully, which made their sniping
of Monash Gully so effective. It was from here, on May 15, that a
Turkish sniper mortally wounded General Bridges, as he was proceeding
up Shrapnel Gully. At that time no place in the Anzac area could be
considered safe.

[Illustration: THE SPHINX.

Owing to the steep cliffsides, the bullets could not reach the dug-outs
on the slope.]

To the left was another gully running down and losing itself in the
ramifications of the outlying spurs of Walker's Ridge. The little flat
watershed separating these two gullies ran like an isthmus across
No Man's Land, and connected Russell's Top with that part of the
main Turkish position known as "Baby 700" and "The Chessboard." This
connecting link was known as "The Nek." Only a few yards behind our
main fire trench were precipitous cliffs, which, running round to the
right, culminated in a remarkable knife-edged cliff eventually known as
the "Sphinx"; while to the extreme left flank these cliffs, scored with
the torrential winter rains, eventually resolved themselves into broken
under-features of Walker's Ridge, sprawling out and forming one side
of the Sazli Beit Dere. Near the bottom of this dry watercourse was
the little Fishermen's Hut, so often used as a landmark. Just south of
these huts was No. 1 Post, and a few hundred yards past the valley and
on the coast was the little knoll eventually to become famous as No. 2

[Illustration: NO. 2 POST.]

This No. 2 Post was the northern extremity of our line. Measured on the
map, it was a distance of 3600 yards--just two miles--from Chatham's
Post on the extreme right. As Quinn's Post was about 1000 yards from
the sea, a rough calculation will show that the area of Anzac was
approximately 750 acres. Seven hundred and fifty acres of prickly scrub
and yellow clay, stony water-courses, sandy cliffs and rocky hill
tops, land that would not support one family in comfort, yet for eight
long months, men of divers races lived a Spartan life there, studding
the hillsides so thickly with their rude dugouts that a Turkish shell
seldom failed to find a victim.

No time was lost after taking over this No. 4 Sector. The engineers
had made a track for guns and mules up to Russell's Top. This road was
regraded and improved in parts; trenches were deepened and made more
habitable; saps were pushed out wherever the field of fire required
improvement. The line from "the Top" to No. 2 Outpost was very broken,
with many rough gullies intervening; secret saps were dug, and machine
guns placed to cover this "dead" ground, up and down which the scouts
of both sides roamed as soon as it was dark.

The panorama from Walker's Ridge was magnificent. Looking across the
yellow clay hills, decorated in patches with green scrub oak and
prickly undergrowth, red poppies and purple rock roses, one saw the
beautiful beach sweeping up towards the Suvla Flats; the Ægean Sea
was generally as calm as a mill pond, dotted all over with leisurely
trawlers, barges, and restless destroyers; the white hospital ships,
with their green bands and red crosses, lay a few miles out to sea;
over in the distance the storied isles of Imbros and Samothrace stood
out in all the glory of their everchanging tints. The men of the
Wellington regiments recognized a strong resemblance to the view from
the Paekakariki Hill, looking out towards Kapiti and the long white
stretch of the Otaki beach.


Later in the month the Otago Mounted Rifles were stationed down at No.
2 Post. Between the post and the sea was a delightful little strip of
level ground, ablaze with poppies and other wild flowers, but under
the eye, and within the range of the enemy. Near this outpost was
discovered an old Turkish well. Elsewhere men searched for water, and
sometimes found it, but when pumps were applied the flow ceased after
a day or so. This, on the contrary, was a most reliable well, a godsend
to the thirsty men and mules, and a most welcome addition to the scanty
supply procured from the barges. Soldiers came from far and near to
draw the precious water.

Owing to its visibility to the snipers on the Turkish right flank, the
beach between Ari Burnu and Fishermen's Hut could not be used during
the day. Almost under the shadow of the Sphinx a group of boats and
barges lay stranded on the beach. Late one night a party of mounteds
went down and buried the remains of forty Australian infantrymen who
had been killed at the April landing.

The Mounted Rifles repulse a determined Attack.

About the middle of May, the Turks decided that one determined effort
would drive the men of Anzac into the sea. These people perched on
the hillside annoyed him enormously. Never did he make an attack in
the southern zone but these Colonials threatened to advance towards
Maidos. News was gleaned of the withdrawal of troops from Helles and
the arrival of reinforcements from Constantinople.

On May 17, the "Lord Nelson" delighted all beholders by turning her
big guns on to the village of Kuchuk Anafarta. All along the coast
line the ships joined in, until every village behind the line, and
every road running towards Helles and Anzac, was swathed in dust and
flame. The Turk retaliated with guns ranging from 11in. down to .77.
Their shooting was good--one Australian 18-pr. was put out of action
by a direct hit. The enemy reinforcements were delayed, but with the
darkness, on they came again.

Next day was fairly quiet, but the sentries were warned to prepare for
an attack, and during the night the reliefs slumbered behind the line
with their clothes on, their rifles loaded, and their bayonets fixed.
Sure enough, just after midnight, firing commenced from Chatham's
Post along to No. 2 Post. Thousands of cricket-ball hand-grenades
were hurled into Quinn's and other critical places. The big guns on
both sides renewed their efforts. The bursts of shells in mid-air
momentarily lit up the scene, intensifying the blackness of the night.
But this was only the enemy's preliminary bombardment, for about 3
a.m., the watchful sentries detected forms moving cautiously in No
Man's Land. Soon the attack was made in earnest at the junction of No.
2 and No. 3 Defence Sections. Then it burst in its fury on Quinn's and
Russell's Top.



  No. 44  SATURDAY, JULY 3rd 1915.  Official News

The Attack that Failed.

Further details have now been received of the attack made by the Turks
on the night of the 29th-30th ult. At about 2 o'clock on Wednesday
morning the searchlights of H.M.S. "Scorpion" discovered half a Turkish
battalion advancing near the sea, North-west of Krithia. The "Scorpion"
opened fire and few of the enemy got away. Simultaneously, the enemy
attacked the knoll we had captured due West of Krithia, advancing
from the nullah in close formation in several lines. The attack came
under artillery and enfilade rifle fire and the enemy lost heavily.
The foremost Turks got within 40 yards of the parapet, but only a few

The Turks made several heavy bomb attacks during the night, our troops
being twice driven back a short distance. In the early morning we
regained these trenches by bayonet attack and they have since been
strengthened. At 5.30 a.m. 2,000 Turks moving from Krithia into the
ravine were scattered by machine gun fire. The operations reflect great
credit on the vigilance and the accurate shooting of H.M.S. "Scorpion."
The Turkish losses in the nullah and ravine are estimated at from 1,500
to 2,000 dead. At about 10 p.m. on Wednesday the Turks again attacked
with bombs a portion of the most northerly trench captured by us on the

An officer of the Gurkas being wounded (not dangerously as it turned
out) the men became infuriated: flung all their bombs at the enemy,
and then charging down out of the trench, used their kukris with great
effect. About dawn the Turks once more attempted an attack over the
open but nearly the whole of these attacking forces, about half a
battalion, were shot down; and a final bomb attack, though commenced,
failed utterly.

A further report from Anzac of the enemy's attack on Tuesday and
Wednesday last, on our right flank states that the action commenced
with very heavy fire from midnight till 1.30 a.m. to which our men
replied only by a series of cheers. The Turks then launched their
attack and came right on with bayonet and bombs. Those who succeeded
in getting into our saps were instantly killed, the remainder being
dealt with by bomb and rifle fire from the 7th and 8th Light Horse.
By 2 a.m. the enemy broke and many were killed while withdrawing. The
enemy's attack was strongest on his right. They were completely taken
aback by a concealed sap constructed well ahead of our main line, and
their dead are lying thickly in front of this. Some got into the sap
and several got across it, and all these were wiped out by fire from
the main parapet farther back. Following the defeat of this attack, the
enemy attacked at 3 a.m. on our left and 30 men came over the parapets
in front of the right of Quinn's Post. These were duly polished off.

Prisoners brought in state that three fresh battalions were employed
in the main attack which was made by the personal order of Enver Pasha
who, its they definitely assert, was present in the trenches on Tuesday
the 20th ult.

Wednesday was very quiet at Anzac, except for heavy musketry fire along
our left and centre during the storm in the evening. Latest report
of enemy casualties on 29th, estimates them at between 400 and 500
actually seen to fall on those areas alone that are exposed to view and
exclusive of any loss inflicted by our bombardments of reverse slopes
and gullies in which reserves are known to be collecting.

It is manifest with what apprehension the Turks regard our latest gains
and how bravely they have tried to neutralize them and at what cost.

On the West Front.

  Paris, July 2nd.

After a continuous bombardment which lasted three days, the Germans
attacked the French positions in the Argonne, between the road from
Binarville and the Four-de-Paris. Twice driven back, they eventually
succeeded, after a third attempt in setting foot in some parts of the
French lines near Bagatelle, and were repulsed everywhere else after
a very fierce struggle. Two fresh attacks against the trenches to the
East of the road from Binarville were defeated. A violent attack in
the neighbourhood of Metzeral was completely repulsed, the Germans
suffering heavy losses.

  (Official Report by wireless).

Letters to a Turkish Soldier at the Front.

The following characteristic letters, written to a Turkish soldier at
the front, will be read with interest:--

"To my dear son-in-law, Hussein Aga. First, I send you my best salaams
and I kiss your eyes. Your mother Atrf also kisses your eyes. Mustafa
also kisses your eyes and Mrs. Kerim also sends her salaams. Your
daughter Ayesha kisses your eyes. Should you inquire after our health,
thank God I can tell you we are all in health, and I pray God we may
continue to be so. Your letter of the 4th February we have received.

Your mother kisses your eyes and Abdullah kisses both your hands. Your
brother, Bairham's wife, has died--may your own life be long--but
before dying she brought into the world a child. The child also has

What can I say about the decrees of God? Your brother Bairham has also
been taken as a soldier. We pray God that his health may be preserved.
The money you sent has arrived. Thank God for it, for money is scarce
these days. Everybody sends salaams: everybody kisses your hands and
your feet. God keep you from danger."

  Your father,

To my dear husband, Hussein Aga. I humbly beg to inquire after your
blessed health. Your daughter sends her special salaams and kisses
your hands. Since you left I have seen no one. Since your departure I
have no peace. Your mother has not ceased to weep since you left. Your
daughter declares that she is enceinte and weeps all day. We are all
in a bad way. Your wife says to herself "While my husband was here we
had some means." Since your departure we have received nothing at all.
Please write quickly and send what money you can. All your friends
kiss your hands and your feet. May God keep you and save us from the
disasters of this war.

  Your wife,

R.E. Printing Section, G.H.Q., M.E.F.


 Printed by the R.E. Printing Section at Imbros.]

The machine guns sprayed the front with a shower of lead, and for an
interval the attack seemed held up, but in the grey dawn the mass
advanced again. Crying on their God--"Allah! Allah! Allah!"--they
surged forward in tremendous strength. From their trenches opposite
Russell's Top and Turk's Point on Walker's Ridge they sallied forth
in thousands. This was the first real test of the New Zealand Mounted
Rifles. The Turks flung themselves against the trenches held by the
Auckland Mounted Regiment; but with rifle and machine-gun fire the
troopers beat them off, hardly a Turk reaching the trench.

This was a field day for the machine guns posted in No. 4 Section.
Carefully trained by some of the greatest experts in the world,
who were not slow to recognize their golden opportunities, these
excellently placed weapons carried disaster into the enemy's attacks,
enfilading them time and again. To the intense delight of the gunners,
the Turks advanced in lines that presented ideal machine-gun targets.
As the enemy had treated the Royal Naval Battalions on Dead Man's
Ridge, so the Turk was now treated in return.

Again and again the foe came on--by their French-grey overcoats they
were identified as new picked troops from Asia. Again and again they
advanced, but, caught by the loosely-strewn barb wire, they dropped
like flies and were beaten to the earth by the machine guns. The din
was indescribable. Above the rattle of the musketry combat and between
the boom of the guns could be heard the Turk, crying on his Maker as he
advanced, yelling and squealing as he retired to the Colonial shouts of
"Imshi Yallah!" and the glorious battle chorus of "Ake, Ake, Kia Kaha!"


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


The Field Troop, N.Z.E., regrading the road to Russell's Top.]

Down the gullies on the left flank the enemy came in the dark. A
determined attack about the Fishermen's Hut would cut off No. 2
Post and let the Turkish hordes surge along the flat beach and low
ground into the heart of Anzac. The anxious garrisons detected sounds
of men scrambling down the gully. Around the posts alert ears heard
the undertone of voices. It was some time before the listeners could
determine the mutterings as undoubtedly Turkish. Into the mysteries
of the scrub volley after volley was poured. The attackers, feeling
that they were "in the air," squealed and disappeared in the direction
of the Suvla Flats. When the sun was well up, from No. 2 Post Turkish
reinforcements were discernible in the trenches opposite Walker's
Ridge. A machine gun of the Canterbury Regiment was posted to enfilade
them. The rifles of the 10th Nelson Squadron, assisted by the machine
gun, brought a devastating fire to bear on a grey-coated battalion
of the enemy lying in the trenches and in the depressions, evidently
preparing for an advance. For a few minutes a stream of lead played
up and down their ranks, causing awful havoc. The mass heaved and
swayed convulsively, then broke and stampeded to the rear, assisted in
their flight by the ever-watchful guns of the torpedo-boat destroyers,
while the machine guns from Steel's, Courtney's, Quinn's, Pope's and
Walker's, emptied belt after belt into the enemy reserves. Now was the
opportunity of the field gunners. From Howitzer Gully, from Plugge's
Plateau, from Walker's Ridge, the New Zealand Field Artillery shells
were pumped in streams. The No. 2 Battery, N.Z.F.A., though only able
to get two guns to bear, fired 598 rounds almost without intermission.
The ships were having a day out, perfect targets presenting themselves
all along the line.

Right along the two and a third miles of front the attacks melted
away--nowhere was the Anzac line penetrated. The great attempt to drive
the infidel into the sea had miserably failed. Everywhere along the
line Turks lay dead in heaps. The mounted men--Australians and New
Zealanders alike--had demonstrated that southern-bred soldiers were as
dogged in defence as they were brilliant in attack.

The night was fairly quiet, but on the 20th the attack was resumed,
when the machine gunners had it all their own way. Perhaps the enemy
remembered the tragedy of the preceding day, for when the machine guns
spluttered, the attackers broke and fled.

In the afternoon a dramatic episode occurred. At different points
in the Turkish trenches small white flags appeared. Linguists in
the enemy's ranks made known their desire for a truce to bury their
dead. At many parts in the line, particularly opposite the Auckland
Mounted trenches on Walker's Ridge, some conversation was carried on
in German. But observers noticed men crowding in the front line and
the communication trenches. It seemed that the white flag incident was
a ruse to launch a surprise attack. The white flag parties were given
two minutes to get down out of sight. Down they scurried, and once more
the musketry battle resumed its violence. As night came the searchlight
from the warships played around the Turkish trenches and brilliantly
illuminated the gullies on the flanks. Some desultory firing took
place, but the Turk had no stomach for more infidel driving.

Burying the Dead on Armistice Day.

Next morning, the look-out on the destroyer guarding our right flank
was mystified by a Turk waving a big white flag on Gaba Tepe, previous
to coming out right into the open, and well within range. After the
tremendous losses a few days previously, some of us thought that here
at last was the long-looked-for peace. After a certain amount of
justifiable hesitation on our part, a patrol went out to meet the white
flag party. The groups met along the seashore, and finally, a Turkish
officer, blindfolded, was escorted through the lines, past Hell Spit,
and along the beach to Army Corps Headquarters. He carried no proposals
for a surrender, but only for a truce to bury the dead. In the
interests of both armies this was desirable, but extremely difficult to
carry out. No Man's Land was very narrow, especially opposite Quinn's
and the Nek, and we, for our part, did not care to have inquisitive
soldiers poking about, ostensibly burying dead, but with an eagle eye
upon our front line trenches.


It took some days to work out the rules to be observed. They ran into
many typewritten pages, but briefly they were as follow:--

 1. The suspension of arms was to be from 7.30 a.m. to 4.30 p.m., on
 May 24.

 2. A line was to be pegged out down the centre of No Man's Land--the
 Turkish burying parties to work their side of the line, while we
 worked on our side.

 3. Any dead belonging to the Turks on our side of the line were to be
 carried on stretchers to the centre line. The enemy was to do the same
 for us, so that each side would bury its own dead, and so identify

 4. Rifles found on No Man's Land were to be collected, and immediately
 placed on stretchers. No man was to carry a rifle in his hand. Each
 side was to carry off its own rifles found in its burying area. Enemy
 rifles were to have the bolts removed, and were to be then carried on
 stretchers, and handed over to the original owners.

The morning of "Armistice Day" broke with a steady drizzle. At the
appointed hour fifty Turks, with Red Crescents on their arms, and fifty
Australians and New Zealanders with Red Cross armlets, met on the
extreme right. Each party had a staff officer and a medical officer.
The men carried short stakes with little white strips of calico on the
top, and, headed by the staff officers, who each walked near his own
front-line trench, the party went right down the centre of No Man's
Land, sticking in their little white flags.

By about 10 o'clock the demarcation was complete. As the party had
moved down No Man's Land, heads appeared over both parapets, and,
cautiously first, and then quite boldly, the soldiers on both sides
scrambled up on the parapets and experienced the uncanny sensation of

The burying parties struggled up the greasy clay tracks, marched out
with their shovels and their stretchers, and the day's work began in
earnest. And what a work! In some sectors the dead lay in heaps. In one
area of about an acre, three hundred bodies were tallied--mostly Turks.
"They are lying just as thick as sheep in a yard," said a Hawke's Bay
boy in the demarcation party. It was soon realized that proper burials
were out of the question, and that it was impossible to carry the
enemy's dead to the centre line. A mutual agreement was made to cover
up friend and foe, the Turk on his side and we on ours. So the Anzac
dead in the Turkish area were not identified by us; these are the men
who eventually were described as "Missing, believed killed" by the
Court of Enquiry.

[Illustration: ARMISTICE DAY, MAY 24, 1915.

These two pictures were taken by Brig.-General Ryan, of the Australian
Medical Corps. The top one shows the Turkish Staff Officer who brought
in the flag of truce. While going through our lines he was blindfolded,
according to custom, and escorted by a British Staff Officer.]

[Illustration: The bottom picture shows the burying parties at work in
No Man's Land.]

Away in the tangled gullies on our left flank, several wounded Turks
were discovered in desperate straits. These men were evidently snipers
who had been hit while crawling round in the prickly scrub past
Walker's Ridge. One man was picked up, and as he made gestures asking
for water, an N.Z.M.C. orderly lifted his head up and discovered that
his bottom jaw was almost shot away. Another wounded Turk was carried
in a distance of two miles, and most inconsiderately died as the
hospital was reached.

Very few New Zealanders were found unburied, but there was evidence
that they died game. One Aucklander was found still grasping his rifle,
which was--barrel and bayonet--firmly embedded in the body of his dead

By midday, the heat was tropical, and the Anzac beaches were crowded
with the battalions from the trenches. The Turk was wont to boast that
he would drive us into the sea. What Enver Pasha failed to do, the
lice achieved, and the unique opportunity to get a safe wash was fully

Up on the hillsides the burial parties were hard at work. The chaplains
never had a busier day, searching for identity discs, and reading the
burial service. In some parts of the line the men mingled freely with
Johnny Turk. A Melbourne medico was an object of great interest to
the Turkish soldiery, as he wore the ribbons of the Medjidie and the
Osmanieh, gained in a previous war when the Turk and we were allies. A
German doctor in Turkish uniform asked for news of his whilom friends
in Sydney. The Turks had a supply of brown bread, and many exchanges
were made with the Colonials, who were very pleased to barter their
flint-like biscuits for something that would not torture their tender

The afternoon wore on, and as 3 o'clock came, we realized that our
work was nearly done--over 3000 Turks buried. By 4 p.m., everybody had
returned to the trenches, and for the next half-hour deathly silence
reigned. To all appearances the truce had been honourably kept. At
4.30, both sides delivered tremendous volleys at nothing in particular,
and settled down quietly for the night. Thus ended one of the strangest
days in the history of the campaign.


During the day we had been requested not to use binoculars, but all
along the line it was noticed that Turkish and German officers were
taking the bearings of our trenches and emplacements. From the Turkish
trenches on the Chessboard, officers were quite obviously marking down
our machine gun emplacements commanding the Nek and Russell's Top.
But the New Zealand machine gun officers were equal to the Turks in
cunning. During the night all the machine guns were taken down and
the crews took cover. With the dawn came the searching shells of the
Turkish Field Artillery. The empty emplacements were badly damaged,
but as soon as the guns switched on to another target, the New Zealand
gunners rebuilt their emplacements and were again ready to fire within
twenty minutes of the bombardment.

The Sinking of the "Triumph."

In war man is often made to feel his impotence. An illustration of this
occurred the day following the armistice. About midday the workers on
the beach heard "Picket boat" cried in those anxious, agonized accents
that characterize the cries of "Stretcher bearer" or "Wire," cries
that send a shiver down the spine of the most hardened. Looking out to
sea, a great column of smoke welled up from the side of the "Triumph,"
lying about a mile off shore from Gaba Tepe. It was obvious she was
hit, for at once she commenced to heel over. Glasses revealed her decks
crowded with men, her crew falling in at their stations. Swiftly from
every point of the compass came the torpedo-boat destroyers--from
Nibrunesi Point, Imbros and Helles. Our old friend the "Chelmer" nosed
into the flank of the stricken ship, and orderly, as if on parade,
the bluejackets commenced marching off. More and more boats crowded
alongside to take off the crew. Steadily the vessel heeled until her
masts were almost parallel with the water, her port guns sticking
aimlessly into the air. Suddenly she quivered from stem to stern. Her
attendants drew back quickly, as she turned completely over amidst a
cloud of spray and steam, which, clearing away, revealed her red keel
shining brightly against the blue Ægean Sea. Once again the destroyers
and trawlers closed in to pick up the men in the water. Other
destroyers, working in ever-increasing circles, engaged in a hunt for
the submarine. Presently the old craft commenced to settle at the bows.
Slowly and gracefully she slid into the depths, and the watchers on the
Anzac hills heaved a heartfelt sigh. But out there in the blue, the
gallant sailormen gave three hearty cheers as the old ship disappeared.
An irrepressible cried, "Are we downhearted?" "No," roared the crew of
the sunken ship, and a great volume of cheering rose from the vessels
gathered round.


The old ship, surrounded by small craft, is near the horizon on the
left of the picture.]

This disaster cast a gloom over Anzac. To see one's friends in peril
and be powerless to help caused the Colonial soldiers more pain than
any previous experience. This old ship had been such a trusty friend,
and now, in a short twenty minutes, she was gone! Men sat up on the
hill that night, cursing the Hun and all his allies!

The Taking and Losing of "Old No. 3 Post."

Between the ridge of Chunuk Bair, held by the Turk, and our No. 2 Post,
there were three other conspicuous pieces of high ground bounded on
the north by Chailak Dere, and on the south by the Sazli Beit Dere.
The highest of these was Rhododendron Ridge; the next was a little
plateau appropriately named Table Top, and nearest to No. 2, really
a higher peak of the same spur, was a Turkish post from which most
of the deadliest sniping was carried on. It was thought advisable to
occupy this ridge and deny it to the enemy. It was a hopeless position
for us--away out in a salient--and should never have been attempted.
On the night of May 28, a squadron of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles
crept up the dere and took this sniping post by surprise at the point
of the bayonet. They, in their turn, handed over to a squadron of the
Wellington Mounted Regiment, who proceeded to put the post into a
state of defence by entrenching it. The garrison was again relieved
by a squadron of the Wellingtons (9th Wellington East Coast) on the
night of May 30. Getting in about 8 o'clock at night, the men were
hardly distributed along the meagre trenches when sounds of movement
were heard. Presently, showers of hand-grenades descended on the post.
Calling on "Allah," the enemy, numbering many hundreds, surrounded
the post. The Wellingtons had no hand-grenades (the shortage of these
weapons at Anzac was deplorable), so had to depend upon their rifles.
Rushing up to the parapet and yelling their eerie cries, but never
daring to press the attack home, throwing hand-grenades and then
retreating, the Turks let the precious hours of darkness slip by.

The garrison decided to make the Turks pay a big price for the post.
The strain of hanging on through that awful night was tremendous. But
with the welcome dawn came fresh hope. All that day the garrison lay in
their trenches waiting for the final assault.

The guns from the "W" Hills broke in parts of the parapet; the
telephone wire to No. 2 Post was cut, and the Turk actually penetrated
a section of the trench, but was driven out. Things becoming
desperate--water and ammunition both running short--a message was
semaphored back to Walker's Ridge, and it was decided to attempt the
relief of the post at dusk.


On the left is the Sphinx; the next high ground is Plugge's Plateau,
which running down to the sea resolves itself into the point of Ari

Two Wellington squadrons went out, but were held up. Later--this was
the night of May 31--two troops of the 8th (South Canterbury) Squadron
and the 10th (Nelson) Squadron proceeded to fight their way from No.
2 Outpost up to this new ill-starred outpost, now known as No. 3.
They joined forces with two Wellington squadrons, and with Turkish
hand-grenades lighting the gully, the relief party pushed aside all
opposition, got into the post, and relieved the Wellingtons. There was
to be no rest for the unlucky garrison of No. 3. On came the Turks
again, and the performance of the night before was repeated almost
without variation, the throwing of hand-grenades, calling on "Allah!"
and rushing up to the parapet, but never daring the final assault. For
some hours the inferno continued. About midnight word came through from
Headquarters that the post might be abandoned. The task of removing
the wounded presented no small difficulties, but they having been
removed down the dere, the perilous retirement commenced. In the
faint moonlight, the Turks could be seen flitting hither and thither.
Now that our retirement was commencing, their exultant yelling and
squealing burst out afresh. Down the dere slowly came the rearguard,
calmly and methodically picking off any too adventurous enemy. When the
troopers reached the "Big Sap" running out past No. 1 and 2, they lined
the two sides of the gully and the trench and waited for the Turk. A
squadron of the Auckland Mounteds now arrived, and based on No. 2 Post
and the Fishermen's Hut, the whole party made a determined stand, and
enabled the 9th Squadron, who had been fighting for forty-eight hours,
to be withdrawn.


  [_Photo by the Author_


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?


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


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.


  [_Photo by the Author_


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 Utter Dependence on the Imperial Navy.


  [_British Official Photograph_


The "Cornwallis" is towing her off.]

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 could never 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.


  [_Photo by the Author_


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 of the 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. But an 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.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


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 the impossible. 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.


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 some strange
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

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 in by 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!


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 necessary to 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.


  [_Photo by the Author_


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 goods packed 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.

[Illustration: 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 of buying 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.


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


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's Land 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

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.

[Illustration: 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 whole structure 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 same
question 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


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


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 clung to 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 of persuasion, 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
foetid 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 of danger, 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

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."


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._


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-operated by 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 the Turkish
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, a bomb 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


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

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,
the enemy blundered into this concealed trench, and lost over 250 men.
Nowhere was the line broken, and the attack melted away.


 The officer on the left of the group is Capt. the Hon. Aubrey Herbert,
 M.P., our divisional interpreter; the one with his back to us is
 Colonel G. J. Johnston, the C.R.A. of the Division, an officer loved
 by his subordinates for his fairness and his enthusiasm for the guns.]

What a sight No Man's Land presented that morning of June 30! The
majority of the three fresh battalions of Turkish troops lay dead or
wounded out there in the open; and of the dead men on the parapets,
each had a rough haversack filled with dates and olives, the
ever-present Turkish tobacco, and filled water-bottles. The prisoners
taken said that their orders were to break the line at all costs. Enver
Pasha himself was reported to be present, but prisoners' statements in
matters of this kind are always open to doubt, as there is a certain
amount of temptation to answer in a manner calculated to please the
interrogating interpreter.

This was the last attempt the enemy made to break the Anzac line.

The Soldier and His Clothes.

Two factors worked a change in the Army's clothing. The first was the
Turk. His snipers picked out anyone wearing distinctions, with the
result that officers cut off their conspicuous badges of rank and sewed
small worsted stars or crowns on the shoulder-straps; otherwise, ranks
were indicated on the shoulders of the shirts by indelible ink pencil.
The N.C.O.'s and men took off their metal badges, the ink pencil being
again in request to draw the badge and unit indications on the cap.

The heat was responsible for other modifications. Tunics were the
first to go, and bit by bit the soldier shed his garments until he
stood only in his boots, his shortened trousers, a shirt, and a cap.
Riding breeches, cut well above the knee, made a most roomy pair of
shorts. While no two men wore their trousers the same length, each one
seemed to pride himself on having the ends as raggedly and unevenly
cut as possible. The hot sun burned the exposed parts of the body a
rich brown; so, when men went in bathing, it was easy to deduce by the
amount of white skin exactly what garments had been preserved. On brown
backs it was amusing to see a white V, testimony that the soldier still
sported a pair of braces!


For some unknown reason, slouch hats, which would have been invaluable
were left behind at the base. Many of the Mounted Rifles arrived with
the brims of their felt hats cut off, leaving only a little peak fore
and aft, like the old-time policeman's shako. New Zealanders were
forbidden to wear helmets in Egypt, but the soldier of understanding
smuggled his away with him, and a very proud man he was who sported one
on the Peninsula. The sailor men were very keen on getting slouch hats;
many a bearded face was shaded by the broad brim of a Colonial hat.

If there was one thing the soldier had enough of, and to spare, it
was socks. The good people at home put a pair into every parcel. The
Ordnance issued them as well. It is hard to say what socks were not
used for. The soldier who wrote, "Thanks for the socks--they will come
in useful," doubtless spoke the truth.

Some things the men always craved for. Good Virginian tobacco and
cigarettes were always welcome--the ration was of very inferior
quality; sweets were always in great demand; owing to living under such
primitive conditions, most watches went wrong, and were very difficult
to replace; a "salt water soap" that would lather in salt water was
looked for almost in vain; while tinned milk was worth any trouble
and risk to procure. These were the days before the Y.M.C.A. made its
welcome appearance.

About this time the Intelligence Department discovered that the Turk
might use gas, so primitive gas helmets were procured from England.
Woe betide any luckless soldier caught without his respirator. It is
not suggested that the Turk was too humane to use gas, but luckily the
masks were never needed, principally because the ground was so broken,
and the "prevailing" winds could not be depended on. As our front line
was so closely involved with that of the enemy, the enemy certainly
would have received a fair share of the poisonous fumes intended for
the infidels.


The Preparations in July.

The decisive repulses in June made the Turk very chary of attacking.
On our side it was evident that the forces at the disposal of Sir Ian
Hamilton were not sufficient to win through. After months of desperate
attack and dogged defence the month of July saw the enemy still holding
the high ground at Helles and Anzac. At Anzac there was a cheery
optimism. Everyone was satisfied that with reasonable reinforcements we
would win through to the Narrows.


By now the front-line trenches were secure and the units settled
down to the routine of trench warfare. Troops holding the line have
a good deal of time in which to talk and think. One of the most
dreadful phases of soldiering is the monotony. It is then that
the soldier becomes "fed up." Men at these times will growl and
argue about anything. Three debatable subjects never lost their
attractiveness--oysters, medals, and the horizon. The oyster question
raged furiously. Perhaps the Turkish shells suggested it; perhaps the
soldier was thinking of what he would eat when he got home again; but,
with an Aucklander present, it was never safe to say that Stewart
Island oysters were the finest in the sea. The medal question was a
perennial one. What medals would be struck for the war? Would there be
a different one for the different campaigns--France, West Africa,
Gallipoli, and all other theatres? Would the clasps be names of actions
or only dates? It was persistently rumoured that the new Sultan of
Egypt would give a medal to each of the troops who lined the Cairo
streets on his coronation day. The Sultan supplied the answer to this
by dying before his alleged promise could be fulfilled. The great line
of transports and warships stretching from Cape Suvla down to Tenedos
suggested the horizon. What was the horizon? There seemed to be no end
of definitions, all of which could be traversed by learned persons
present. Some ships would be hull down and some with only the masts and
smoke showing. This raised the question as to whether one could see
past the horizon, a suggestion scouted by the majority of the debating
society, but warmly applauded by an enthusiastic minority.


  [_Photo by F. H. Dawn_


[Illustration: SUNSET FROM ARI BURNU.]

Late in the afternoon, when the little groups assembled behind the
firing line to prepare the evening meal, men would talk of their
favourite foods, and speculate as to where the first big meal would be
eaten when the great work was complete. Smoking the ration cigarette
after tea, the New Zealander would watch the sun set behind the
rose-tinted peaks of Samothrace and would picture again the sunset in
his own beloved country, would hear the water tumbling and splashing
in the creek, would see the sheep and horses cropping the sweet green
grass of Maoriland--when "Whizz! crash!" would come the Turkish
gunners' evening hate. Back with a start would the soldier come to
the shells, the heat, the stench of chloride of lime, and the steadily
increasing rows of little crosses on the hillside.

Units not engaged in the front line were officially "resting" in
Rest Gully. Paradoxically, it was an accident if one got an hour's
respite there! In civil life, where labour is expensive and difficult
to obtain, all means of labour-saving devices are available to do
laborious work. Near the firing line there is no room or concealment
for these cumbrous instruments. On the other hand, labour is plentiful.
So it happens that a multiplicity of men, with primitive picks and
shovels, are available for any necessary work. On the Peninsula a spell
of "rest" inevitably meant being detailed for a working party.

The Amenities of Anzac.

The noise of battle frightened away all the little song birds that
had so charmed us in the spring. But there was always something of
interest. The common tortoise of Europe--with a hard shell about 12
inches long--loving a quiet place shaded from the sun, crept into our
dugouts during the night, so that in addition to having nocturnal
visitors who caused a certain amount of irritation and annoyance, we
had these larger "Pilgrims of the Night" to create a little amusement,
for there is something comical about these prehistoric, rubber-necked
shell-backs. The fact that a tortoise is something like a turtle also
appealed not a little to the company cook, who may be a lover of the
antique, but not to such a degree that the tortoise might notice it!
Out on the Suvla Flats, red foxes played in the sun with their cubs. On
the prickly scrub, the little praying mantis held up her supplicating
green hands and prayed as if we were all far past redemption.


  [_Photo lent by the Otago Women's Association_


The officer drinking from the mess tin is Lt.-Col. Grigor, D.S.O., who
commanded "C" parties of the N.Z.M.R. Brigade at the evacuation. Behind
him is Colonel Bauchop, C.M.G., the commander of the outposts. ]

During July the shelling seemed to increase in intensity. Perhaps it
was that the Turk had more information about our dispositions and
shifted his guns a little further round on the flanks to enfilade
the beach. Dugouts that had previously been considered safe now had
shrapnel coming in the front doors, which is disconcerting, to say
the least of it. But the New Zealander, ever adaptable, drove his
little dugout into the hillside at a safer angle and cheered the little
trawlers as they slipped their anchors and zigzagged out of range.
Early in the morning two big shells came over in pairs and dropped
out to sea among the shipping. Rumour had it that they came from the
"Goeben," anchored in the Straits. They certainly caused magnificent
twin geysers as they plopped into the Ægean, but never once did any
damage materialize. Because of their early morning regularity these
guns were christened "Christians Awake." The shells really came from
an old battleship, the "Hairredin Barbarossa," anchored in the Narrows
between Maidos and Chanak. She had three pairs of 11in. guns, with
which she carried out her early morning bombardments. Built by the
Germans, she was sold to the Turks in 1910, and finally was submarined
by a British submarine on August 8, the day the New Zealand Infantry
Brigade dashed up to the crest of Chunuk Bair. The most deadly gun was
one (or a battery of them) fired from the Olive Groves away inland from
Gaba Tepe. As this gun enfiladed the beach, it became widely known as
"Beachy Bill." He it was who interfered mostly with the landing of
stores, and worse still, the bathing. A long range gun firing from the
other flank and emplaced in the "W" Hills, was known as "Anafarta
Annie." Not many of our guns had names, but the mounted regiments on
Walker's Ridge appropriately dubbed an Indian mountain gun "Rumbling

During daylight the beach at Anzac Cove was practically deserted.
"Beachy Bill" and his helpers attended to that. But when night came
the hive buzzed and hummed. Picket boats brought in their barges,
and the beach parties attacked the cargoes of stores and transferred
them to the A.S.C. depots close at hand. Long convoys of pack mules
and the little two-wheeled mule carts pulled in to the stores and the
water-tanks, and started their adventurous journeys to the right and
left flanks, and up the tortuous way to Monash Gully. The Turk had
the range to a nicety, and knew quite well that if he dropped a few
shells along the beach and on the communications some damage must be
done. The marvel is he did not fire more. While the firing lasted the
place was like Inferno, for in the darkness the shells could be seen
red-hot overhead. The flash of the explosions would light up the busy
scene--Indian drivers and their terrified mules inextricably mixed up
with the piles of stores and water tins; mules braying and squealing,
with the patient drivers striving to quieten them; the shells shrieking
through the air; while the thunderous detonations punctuated the
rhythmic lapping of the waves upon the beach, the moans of the wounded,
and the insistent cries of "Stretcher bearer."

Reinforcements Promised.

After the unsuccessful attack on Krithia early in May, Sir Ian Hamilton
cabled Home for two more Army Corps, pointing out that apparently we
were to be left to our own resources in the campaign; the Greeks had
decided not to move at all, and the Russians had been so punished
by the Austro-Germans as to give up all hope of moving against
Constantinople from the Black Sea. The General, in his Third Despatch
to the Secretary of State for War, goes on to say:--"During June your
Lordship became persuaded of the bearing of these facts, and I was
promised three regular divisions, plus the infantry of two territorial
divisions. The advance guard of these troops was due to reach Mudros
by July 10; by August 10 their concentration was to be complete."

Now let us see what troops are available for a new trial of strength
with the Turk. The following troops were already on the Peninsula:--


                               {1st Division
  The French Army Corps        {2nd Division

                               {29th Division (Regular Army)
                               {42nd (East Lanes.) Division
  The 8th Army Corps           {(Territorials)
                               {52nd (Lowland) Division

  General Headquarters Troops  {Royal Naval Division


                               {1st Australian Division
  The A. & N.Z. Army Corps     {N.Z. & Australian Division


                               {10th (Irish) Division
  The 9th Army Corps           {11th (Northern) Division
                               {13th (Western) Division

                               {53rd (Welsh) Division
  The Infantry Brigade only of {54th (East Anglian) Division

All of the troops--owing to the demands of the French front--were
woefully deficient in artillery. The 9th Army Corps were part of the
New Army--generally known as Kitchener's Army--and, of course, had not
seen service. The infantry of the 53rd and 54th Divisions were of the
Territorial Force, and likewise were inexperienced in war. These were
the troops it was determined to lead against seasoned soldiers--inured
to hardship and fighting for their native soil--the veterans of the
Turkish Regular Army.

But when and where should these reinforcements be used?


  [_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.B._


Signallers, telephonists, and linesmen risk their lives day and night
sending and carrying messages and repairing wires. Snipers watch the
wire and pick off the linesmen. It is significant that the only New
Zealand V.C. awarded during the campaign went to a signaller.]

The time was easily settled. In war, as in many other things, there
is no time like the present. The summer was well advanced; the scored
hillsides gave every indication of torrential autumn and winter rains;
the naval staff knew that winter storms would seriously hamper their
work. But the last troops could not arrive until early in August. As
darkness was essential to any surprise attack, it was necessary to
carefully study the phases of the moon. It was decided that as soon as
the 53rd and 54th Divisions reached the scene of operations they would
be kept on their ships as a general reserve. The weather, the moon, and
the anticipated arrival of these reinforcements determined August 6 as
the latest date for the commencement of the operations, for by the end
of the second week the moon would be unfavourable

So far, we knew what troops were available, when they would arrive,
and the most desirable time to use them. Next, we must examine the
proposals as to where they should be used to gain the greatest

Where should the Troops be Used?

In his classical Third Despatch, General Sir Ian Hamilton has clearly
shown the different suggestions for employing the new troops. They were
resolved into four practicable schemes, which may be summarized as

(1) Every man to be thrown on to the Helles sector to force a way
forward to the Narrows. This was rejected because it was difficult to
deploy a large body of troops in such a confined area. Further, the
whole of Krithia and Achi Baba had been specially prepared against such
a frontal attack.

(2) Embarkation on the Asiatic side of the Straits, followed by a march
on Chanak. The number of troops available was not considered sufficient
to press this to a victorious conclusion.

(3) A landing at Enos or Ibriji for the purpose of seizing the Isthmus
of Bulair. Against this project it was known that the Turkish lines of
communication were not only by way of Bulair and down the Narrows, but
also by way of the Asiatic coast across from Chanak to Kilid Bahr. The
naval objections to Bulair were overwhelming: the beaches were bad,
and, worse still, the strain on sea transport would be tremendous. We
know how difficult it was at Anzac, but a new base at Bulair would add
another fifty miles to the sea communications, already threatened by
enemy submarines.

(4) Reinforcement of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps combined
with a new landing at Suvla Bay. There was a reasonable chance of
success in first winning Hill 971, then across the low ground to
Maidos. From thence both the Turkish land and sea communication might
be cut. This plan was also acceptable to the naval authorities. The
distance to Suvla Bay was approximately the same as to Anzac. There was
also a tolerably good harbour that might be made submarine proof. The
water supply would be difficult, but it was reasoned that efficient
organization would mitigate this evil; in any case, it was known that
this area was not so heavily entrenched as the other three suggested
landing places.

The total allied force was known to be inferior to the enemy, but it
was thought that with skilful generalship this superiority might be
nullified. The aim of strategy is to concentrate a superior force at
the decisive point. The advantage is always with the attacker, as the
side attacked must be in sufficient strength all along the line and
must keep sufficient reserves in hand until the enemy's real attack
definitely materializes. Wherever Turkish troops were stationed in
large numbers it was necessary to arrange feint attacks--away on the
flanks opposite Mitylene on the Asiatic coast, and away up at Bulair.
Holding attacks to keep the enemy pinned down in their areas were to be
carried out at Helles and at No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3 Defence Sections
at Anzac. Having induced the enemy to become committed all along the
general line, it was intended to burst out from the left flank of
Anzac, at the same time land new troops at Suvla--the whole to push on
towards Chunuk Bair, Hill Q, and Hill 971. These heights in our hands
the fall of Maidos, Gaba Tepe, and eventually Kilid Bahr was only a
matter of time.

The strategical and tactical situation may be easier grasped

[Illustration: _TURKISH RESERVES_]

The general idea was that at Bulair and Mitylene enemy forces would be
immobilized, and that the Turkish reserves on the Peninsula would flow
towards Helles and the right of Anzac. As soon as these reserves were
committed the troops of Anzac and Suvla would press towards Hill 971
and turn the Turkish flank.

In anticipation of this advance, a party of selected officers and
scouts lived day and night out on the Suvla Flats and in the Turkish
territory on the Sari Bair. These were the men who were selected to
guide the troops over the new ground to be attacked.

Two other important works were put in hand at once in the Anzac area;
the first, to widen the long communication trench from Anzac to the
outposts; the second, to make a road available for wheeled traffic
along the beach. In order not to make the enemy suspicious, this had to
be done after dark, as the entire area was under the observation and
rifle fire of the enemy on the heights.

Making the Beach Road.

Night after night the troops who were "resting" crept with their
picks and shovels along the beach, to make the necessary road. This
after-dark activity is most trying--each man working as silently as
possible with his rifle at his elbow. Any noise is a magnet certain to
attract machine-gun fire. Even in daylight it takes careful management
to collect working parties and the necessary transport at the right
spot, but in the darkness and in a region where enemy scouts and
snipers roamed as soon as daylight failed, the difficulties were
increased a hundredfold.

Sand makes a poor road. To get a reasonable result it was necessary to
collect the big stones of the seashore and carry them to the shore edge
of the beach and place them as a foundation; on the top of this, clay
was deposited--carted from the hillside near by in the mule carts of
the Indian transport service; the whole was top-dressed by the sand of
the beach, and finally, the hard-worked soldiers carried petrol tins of
water from the sea and poured it over the surface to make the material
set. So, harassed by the splutter of machine guns night after night,
and weakened by the heat of the day, the faithful souls of the working
parties steadily carried the road from Anzac Cove along North Beach
towards the Suvla Flats.


  [_Photo by the Author_


This view is looking back towards Walker's Ridge and was taken before
the sap was widened to 5 feet.]

Working on the Big Sap.

To get troops quickly and secretly from Anzac to the outposts and to
the foot of the deres up which the assaulting columns must approach
the Turk, it was necessary to widen the communication trench known
as the "Big Sap." This trench had been evolved as the outposts were
established, and at many places could be enfiladed by the enemy on the
heights; and nowhere was it wide enough to take troops two abreast.
The pack mules used it by day, and though the soldier cared little for
Turkish shells, he lived in fear of the donkey's steel-shod hoofs; it
was no uncommon sight to see the soldier, disbelieving the warning "No
kick! No kick!" of the Indian muleteer, climb out of the trench and
risk a bullet rather than encounter a transport mule.

Partly the way was through the sandhills--here the necessary width
of 5 feet was easy to attain; but in the harder clay, the pioneer
working parties had been content to make a narrow slit, leaving the
hardest work still to do. All through July the men of No. 4 Defence
Section toiled at their herculean task--the Australian Infantry of the
4th Brigade, the N.Z. Mounted Rifles and Australian Light Horse from
Walker's Ridge, and best workers of all, the Maori Contingent from No.
1 Post.

[Illustration: THE MAORI AT ANZAC.

 A convential figure carved in the clay wall of the Big Sap. The
 telegraph linesmen of the Signal Troop have condescended to drop their
 wire a little to avoid the figure.]

Man is naturally a lazy animal. When men work hard, there is always
some incentive. The Maori soldier, picked man that he was, wished to
justify before the world that his claim to be a front-line soldier
was not an idle one. Many a proud rangitira served his country in the
ranks, an example to some of his Pakeha brothers. Their discipline was
superb and when their turn came for working party, the long-handled
shovels swung without ceasing until, just before the dawn, the signal
came to pack up and get home.

Where the trench was liable to enfilade fire, its direction was
altered, and here and there overhead protection was built with some of
the precious timber and sandbags. At every few hundred yards a recess
was cut to enable troops to stand aside while mule trains or passing
troops moved up or down. Leaving nothing to chance, infantry parties,
two abreast, marched through the trench from end to end to ensure that
nowhere would there be a check.


  [_Lent by Rev. Wainohu, C.F._


Now these communications were complete, and July came and went, and
still there was no big attack. But vast quantities of ammunition,
and piles of peculiar foodstuffs that signified Indian troops to the
initiated, showed that something was in the offing. With August, the
transfer of the new English troops from the neighbouring islands

Before this could happen the soldiers of Anzac were called on to do
one more big digging task--dugouts and shelters had to be made, and
terraces formed on the already crowded hillsides, in order that the
large bodies of new troops might be hidden from the enemy aeroplane
observers. For the first nights of August our men worked feverishly
at the terraces. Hope ran high, for here at hand was the help so long
and earnestly prayed for. During the nights of August 3, 4, and 5, the
beach masters and military landing officers disembarked the New Army
troops intended for Anzac. After the tiresome monotony of three months'
dogged holding on, months of incessant picking and shovelling, months
of weakening dysentery, plagues of flies, and a burning sun, the men of
the New Armies and of India were arriving, and a great blow would be
struck. Sick men refused to attend sick parade in the mornings, and in
the hospitals, and on the Red Cross barges, proud men wept because they
were too weak to strike a blow.


The Battle of Sari Bair.


The Preliminaries.

The great battle, apart from the feint attacks away at Bulair and
Mitylene, was to comprise four distinct operations, all closely
dependent one on the other.

1. An attack in force at Cape Helles on the afternoon of August 6. This
would tend to commit Turkish reserves to an action far away from Anzac.

2. The Australian Division, holding the line from Chatham's Post to
Russell's Top, was to make several attacks on the afternoon of August
6. These would serve to immobilize or distract the enemy reserves known
to be concentrated at Koja Dere, behind Mortar Ridge, and at Battleship

3. A great assault by the N.Z. and Australian Division, assisted by the
newly-arrived 13th Division and a brigade of Indian troops, advancing
up the three deres that lead to the peak of the Sari Bair--up the Sazli
Beit and the Chailak to Chunuk Bair, and up the Aghyl towards Hill Q
and Koja Chemen Tepe.

4. A new landing at Suvla Bay by the 9th Army Corps, which would pass
over the Suvla Flats early on the morning of August 7, and linking up
with the left flank of the army from Anzac, would press up towards the
height of Koja Chemen Tepe, to prolong the line towards the Anafarta

The Struggle at Helles.

After a preliminary bombardment on the afternoon of the 6th, the
infantry at Cape Helles dashed to the assault of the Turkish trenches
at 3.50. Thus was the greatest battle in the Gallipoli campaign
commenced by the men of Helles. The bloody and stubborn combat lasted
a full week, the Turks attacking and counter-attacking with two fresh
divisions. The East Lancashire Division, assisted by the war-worn 29th
Division, clung tenaciously to ground they had won--in particular, a
small area of vineyard about 200 yards long and 100 broad, on the west
of the Krithia Road. So fierce was the fighting for this small piece
of cultivated land that this week-long battle is always referred to
as "The Battle of the Vineyard." The object of this attack was fully
achieved. No Turkish soldier could leave for Anzac or Suvla while this
blow was being threatened at Achi Baba.


  [_Lent by Col. Falla, C.M.G., D.S.O._


The Battle of Lone Pine.

Let us pass from the tragic vineyards of the south to the hungry hills
of Anzac. During the afternoon of August 6, the slow bombardment
of the enemy's left and centre was increased in intensity. The 1st
Battery of New Zealand Field Artillery, firing from Russell's Top, was
detailed to cut the wire in front of the Turkish Lone Pine trenches.
The "Bacchante" searched the valleys which were believed to contain the
enemy's reserves, while the monitors engaged the batteries at the back
of Gaba Tepe and at the Olive Groves. This bombardment was intended
to make the Turk believe that at last a determined effort was to be
made from the Anzac right in the direction of Koja Dere and Maidos.
The enemy felt that this was the heart thrust, and he waited in his
well-placed cover for the inevitable assault. At 4.30 p.m., the New
Zealand battery concentrated again on the Lone Pine trench, and the
1st Australian Infantry Brigade mustered in Brown's Dip ready for the

Those awful hours of waiting! Platoon commanders fidgeting with their
wristlet watches that seem to tick off the minutes so slowly. Men
smoke cigarette after cigarette, and talk in undertones. At last the
word comes, "Get ready." Everywhere men crowd on to the firestep.
"Over the top!" Men pull themselves up over the parapet and, regaining
their feet, rush for the opposing parapet with its angry spurts of
flame. Across that bullet-swept No Man's Land race the impetuous men
of Australia. Line after line sweeps on, but not to fall into an open
fire trench on to the foe. These trenches are roofed with timber,
which has to be torn up. A merciless machine-gun fire mows down the
attackers. Some run round the back, get into the communication trenches
and fight their way into the underground fort. So, with hand-grenade
and bayonet, the 1st Australian Infantry Brigade overpower the stubborn
Turks within the fortress.

With the cry of "Allah! Allah!" reinforcements arrive for the enemy.
The weary victors again repel the foe. Night brings no peace. But the
captors of Lone Pine fight on, for they know full well that by their
vicarious sacrifice they have pinned down all the Turkish reserves on
the Ari Burnu front, and have left a minimum of the enemy to resist the
Anzac and Suvla thrust for the peaks of Sari Bair.

Against German Officers' Trench.

The attack at Lone Pine drew many Turkish reserves to Anzac. Everywhere
the enemy was on the alert. What wonder, then, that the occupants of
German Officers' Trench were ready for the 6th Australians? At 11
o'clock on the night of the 6th, mines were exploded at the end of the
trench nearest the Turk. At about midnight, the artillery momentarily
ceased, and the Australian infantrymen crept from the end of their
tunnelled communications which had been constructed under No Man's
Land. The first and second waves of men were mown down almost to a man.
The attack on trenches defended with scientifically-manned machine guns
was almost a forlorn hope.

The Glory of the Australian Light Horse.

At Quinn's, Pope's, and Russell's Top the line was held by the
Australian Light Horse. In common with their brothers of the infantry,
attacks from these places were to be made.

Units of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade were holding Quinn's. From here,
two hundred men in four lines of fifty each were to dash across No
Man's Land in an endeavour to simulate a determined attack. Most of
these gallant troopers died on the parapet from a hail of machine-gun

From Pope's it was determined to attack Dead Man's Ridge. This effort
was at first a little more successful. Three trenches were occupied,
but after about two hours' desperate fighting our men ran short of
bombs, and tried to withdraw, losing heavily during the operation.

The attack from "The Nek" was as glorious, as tragic, and, alas! as
unsuccessful as from Quinn's. In the first line there were 150 men of
the 8th Light Horse Regiment. When the artillery stopped, about 4.25
a.m., the Turk commenced a barrage of machine-gun fire. The Victorians
clambered up on their firesteps, and at the word dashed into the awful
storm of lead. Down went the whole line. But the second line, with
a few scaling ladders, was ready to go over the top. Out they sped
to certain death. The scaling ladders lay forlornly out on the fatal
"Nek." The third line--150 men of the 10th Light Horse--followed and
shared the fate of their comrades. The fourth line was stopped. Out of
450 men who started there were 435 casualties! Turkish prisoners stated
that they never lost one man! Surely in military history there is no
more splendid record of sacrifice than was enacted that fatal morning
at Quinn's Post and Russell's Top.

But the Australian effort from the right and centre of the Anzac
line had borne fruit, for at Rhododendron and on the Asma Dere, New
Zealanders and other Australians were advancing to the stronghold of
the Turk. Down at Suvla a great British landing was proceeding almost

Part II.

The Anzac Thrust for "971."

The attack from the left of Anzac was perhaps one of the most
complicated in history. The huge sprawling mass of the Sari Bair system
was broken by a multiplicity of water-courses, the sides of which were
often sheer cliffs, scored and fissured by torrential winter rains.
The only possible means of approaching the peaks was by way of these
water-courses. Now, it is a well-known military axiom that troops
cannot pass safely through a defile until the heights are made secure;
it was also known that no troops could push up through two and a half
miles of these savage, scrub-covered hills and be fit to fight a battle
with a fresh, determined foe at the top. So the work had to be mapped
out in stages.


The area represented is about 5,400 yards by 3,000 yards. The distance
from the mouth of the Sazli Beit Dere to the Apex is approximately
2,300 yards; and about 3,700 yards to the top of Hill 971.]

Soldiers know that with more than one body of troops operating there
is always a risk of someone being late. In night operations this risk
is intensified. Further, it is very difficult to fit in what the staff
officers call their "time and space problem." The men could not all go
up one gully. They would arrive at the top a few men at a time, and
could not attack on a broad enough front, but only at one point. So it
was arranged that the force under the command of Major-General Godley
should be divided into four columns--two to break the line and open up
the lower parts of the deres; the other two following shortly after,
and proceeding up the three main deres, pass through the covering
forces to the assault of Chunuk Bair, Hill Q, and Koja Chemen Tepe.

During the nights of August 3, 4, and 5, the New Army troops were
landed at Anzac, marched along the "Big Sap" to their prepared bivouacs
on the hillside, and remained under cover until the eventful night. The
29th Indian Brigade, consisting of one Sikh and three Ghurka regiments,
also arrived and went to their allotted place on the left. This made

 The N.Z. and Australian Division (less the Australian Light Horse),
 who were at Quinn's, Pope's, Russell's Top, and Walker's Ridge.

 The 13th (New Army) Division (less five battalions).

 The 29th Indian Infantry Brigade; and

 The Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade.

The Organization of General Godley's Army.

 Right Covering Force--(Brigadier-General A. H. Russell):

  New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade;
  Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment;
  Maori Contingent;
  Field Troop, N.Z. Engineers.

The task assigned to this force was to clear the lower ridges of the
Sari Bair system, seizing the Turkish posts known as Old No. 3 Post,
Big Table Top, and Bauchop's Hill. The advance was to commence from No.
2 and No. 3 Posts at 9 p.m. on August 6, a movement which would enable
the right assaulting column to get within striking distance of Chunuk
Bair with a minimum of fatigue.

 Left Covering Force--(Brigadier-General J. H. Travers):

  4th Battalion South Wales Borderers;
  5th Battalion Wiltshire Regiment;
  Half 72nd Field Company.

Composed entirely of units from the 13th (New Army) Division, this
column was to march northwards along the flat ground; then strike
inland and seize Damakjelik Bair. This force would be able to hold out
a helping hand to the new army landing at Suvla, and would also protect
the left flank of the left assaulting column moving up the Aghyl Dere.

 Right Assaulting Column--(Brig.-General F. E. Johnston):

  New Zealand Infantry Brigade;
  Indian Mountain Battery (less 1 Section);
  1st Field Company, N.Z. Engineers.

This column was to move up the Sazli Beit Dere and the Chailak Dere,
commencing to move up these gullies at 10.30 p.m. Having cleared
Rhododendron Spur, an attack was to be made on Chunuk Bair, eventually
holding a line from Chunuk Bair to the head of Kur Dere, behind Hill Q.

 Left Assaulting Column--(Brigadier-General H. V. Cox):

  29th Indian Infantry Brigade;
  4th Australian Infantry Brigade;
  Indian Mountain Battery (less 1 Section); and the
  2nd Field Company, N.Z. Engineers.

The leading troops of this column were to cross the mouth of the
Chailak Dere at 10.30 p.m. towards Walden's Point and up the Aghyl
Dere, pass through the left covering force, assault Koja Chemen Tepe,
and occupy a line from Koja Chemen Tepe to the head of Kur Dere, thus
joining up with the right assaulting column.

       Divisional Reserve:

   6th Battalion South Lancashire Regiment } at the
   8th Battalion Welsh Regiment (Pioneers) } Chailak Dere;

  39th Infantry Brigade                    } at the
  Half 72nd Field Company                  } Aghyl Dere.

The troops were ordered to be at the foot of the valley mentioned at 1
a.m. on the morning of August 7, to be used at the discretion of the
General Officer Commanding.

For artillery support, in addition to the divisional artillery already
in position, there were two squadrons of H.M. Navy:

 (a) A southern squadron of five vessels, stationed off Gaba Tepe,
 detailed to fire at Chunuk Bair and the plateau on which Lone Pine was
 situated, and

 (b) A northern squadron of two monitors and two destroyers, which were
 to engage targets on the northern and western slopes of Sari Bair.

The entire expedition was woefully deficient in heavy guns. Heavy
howitzers, for searching reverse slopes, were desperately needed.
A pathetic entry in General Godley's "Order of Battle" is, "Corps
artillery: one 6in. howitzer!" Once again the men of Anzac were asked
to do with their bayonets and rifles what should have been done with
heavy guns.

The Night of August 6.

We must now look at the scene near No. 2 and 3 Posts. At Helles and
Lone Pine the battles were raging. Turkish reserves were being called
up in both places. So far everything was going well. With the fall of
darkness the four Anzac columns began to prepare for their arduous
night march and assault.

Everybody was to travel light. Kits and tunics were discarded. In
short sleeves and web equipment, with a rifle and fixed bayonet, the
men may not have looked uniform, but they were animated with a spirit
that would dare anything. Just before dark men sewed white patches on
their backs and on their sleeves, so as to indicate in the gloom who
was friend and who was foe. Officers spoke to their men. The principal
injunction was to press on up the hill. If any man lost touch, he was
to join the nearest party and go resolutely on.

The Right Covering Force.

The four regiments of New Zealand Mounted Rifles were the first to
move. It was their duty to break the Turkish line for the infantry
brigades. At 9.30 p.m. they were to move out from the shelter of No. 2
and No. 3. The Wellington Mounted Rifles were to take Destroyer Hill
and then Table Top. The Auckland Mounted Rifles were to take Old No.
3 Post, while the Otagos by way of Wilson's Knob, and the Canterburys
by way of Taylor's Hollow and Walden's Point, were to clean up the
lower ridges and capture Bauchop's Hill. This should give us the line,
Destroyer Hill--Table Top--Bauchop's Hill, and open up the Sazli Beit,
the Chailak and the Aghyl Deres for the infantry.

The Capture of Old No. 3.

Old No. 3 Post was that high piece of ground taken and abandoned at the
end of May. Falling down towards the sea, it resolved itself into two
lower spurs, on which were our No. 2 and new No. 3 Posts.


  [_Lent by Lieut. Moritzson, M.C., M.M., N.Z.E._


Calculated to throw any troops out of direction.]

Every night, as soon as it was dark, the destroyer "Colne" stood in and
went through the performance of throwing her searchlight on the heavily
fortified slopes of Old No. 3, and commenced a half-hour's bombardment.
The light guns of the destroyer did not cause much material damage to
the carefully constructed overhead cover; but it became the custom
for part of the garrison to leave their trenches and retire to their
dugouts in the rear of the post on the southern banks of the Chailak
Dere. Now, a searchlight beam, while it illumines everything in its
path, makes the surrounding darkness appear blacker and even more
intensified. As the bombardment continued, the Auckland Mounted Rifles
crept up the Sazli Beit Dere. In fifteen minutes the party was lying
quietly at the foot of the fortress. Squadron commanders got their
final instructions, and a small party of strong men, picked for their
skilled work with the bayonet, crept up through the scrub towards the
crest. Led by a scout, this party dodged from bush to bush until they
came to a sentry post of the enemy. Silently closing in from every
side, the four New Zealanders sprang upon the sentries and overpowered
them. "Crack!" went a rifle. One sentry had discharged his rifle
harmlessly in the air as a New Zealand bayonet did its deadly work.
So far we had no casualites. Up on the crest the destroyer's shells
were crashing into the barbed wire and the heavy wooden beams of the
overhead cover. In a few minutes the attacking party was lying all
round the crest on the southern side. Presently the guns stopped, and
the searchlight faded away. This was the signal! The Aucklanders rose
and, spreading fanwise, went straight for the post. Into the covered
trenches dived the Mounted Riflemen. The garrison fought gamely enough,
but there could only be one end to it. The main body of the garrison
came pouring back from their reserve trenches towards the post; but,
caught in the open, they were no match for the men from Auckland. In a
short time the whole work was completely in our hands. There was now
time to closely examine the post. The trenches were roofed, just like
those of Lone Pine, with heavy baulks of 8 x 3 sawn timber covered with
sand bags. The guns on the destroyer had made no material impression on
this cover, as shells striking it had glanced off and buried themselves
uphill. In the front trenches was discovered a dugout with a complete
equipment for electrically firing the 28 small square iron mines placed
in front of the posts. Without the destroyer ruse and the quick, clean
work of the attackers, the casualties would have been very heavy; as it
was, we had only twenty casualties, while close on one hundred Turks
lay dead within the Post and in its neighbourhood. The Auckland Mounted
Rifles had signally avenged the Mounted Brigade losses at the end of

The Capture of Table Top.

Following on the heels of the Auckland Mounted Rifles up the Sazli Beit
Dere, the Wellington Regiment silently cleaned up Destroyer Hill. As
the Auckland Mounted men were stealing on Old No. 3, their comrades
of the Wellington Mounteds were creeping up the Chailak Dere towards
Table Top. Silently up the gully went the mounted men, the 6th Squadron
leading. The 2nd Squadron was to take Table Top itself, and the 9th was
to hold it afterwards. The first objective was Destroyer Hill.

It was quite dark, and difficult to see the way, but these gullies
had been well reconnoitred by the scouts, and the column pressed on,
dragging their telephone wire with them. After resting for a minute,
the front line crept round a corner and came under heavy rifle fire.
The leaders dashed straight at the flashes of rifle fire twenty yards
away. Major Dick at the head of his men cried out "Come on, boys" when
down he fell. But enough surged forward to overwhelm the party of Turks
guarding the communication trench.

This was really a very strenuous piece of work, for from Table Top
on one side, and Baby 700 on the other, communications ran down to
Destroyer Hill. As fast as the enemy here was overpowered, more Turks
crowded down to be dealt with.


  [_Lent by Capt. Janson. W.M.R._


The Wellington Mounteds crept up this dere and advanced up the spur
from where the cross is shown.]

The troopers took up a position above a well-defined track and picked
off the enemy as they came along it. Presently a line of men came in
single file down the ridge. They were to pass just above the anxious
little group of mounted riflemen who were painfully conscious of their
bright white patches. Were they our men, or were they Turks? By their
chattering it was discovered they were a party of a hundred Turks on
surrender bent. To the relief of the 6th Squadron, they filed past to
our rear talking and laughing.

Meanwhile the squadron told off to assault Table Top stole quietly up
to the head of the gully. With rifles spluttering in the scrub and
bullets moaning on their flight out to sea, the Wellingtons scaled the
steep clay sides of Table Top and went straight for the Turks. The
fight did not last long. Up came the 9th and made the position secure.
By his boldness and impetuosity the New Zealand Mounted man had again
outclassed the enemy.

The path taken was the secret of success. The 6th Squadron who had
taken the first trench came at Table Top from the front, and it took
them over half an hour's hard climbing--cutting steps in the clay with
bayonets--to reach the top. Foresight and ingenuity, boldness and
determination were alike combined in these first successful captures.

A platoon of Maoris led by a Wellington officer also crept quietly
up the Chailak Dere in order to get round the back of Table Top to
co-operate with the Wellingtons. In the gully between Bauchop's Hill
and Old No. 3 a party of Turks fired on the Maoris, who saw red and
slew the Turks to a man. Chasing the enemy up the gully, the Maoris
never stopped until they were round the back of Table Top, and were
only with great difficulty restrained from tackling Sari Bair by

Bauchop's Hill.

The Otago and the Canterbury Mounted Regiments were to move off from
No. 3 Post, traverse the flat ground to the northward, wheel to the
right, and work up towards the high ground of Bauchop's Hill.

Lying in the low ground from about 9 o'clock, the South Islanders saw
the white beam of the searchlight on the scrub and heard the scream of
the destroyer's shells. At 9.30 the searchlight went black out. The
men rose quietly--this was the signal for which they had been waiting.
The Otagos wheeled to the right toward the trenches on Wilson's
Knob--trenches they had lain opposite and observed with periscopes the
last two months of waiting. Spurts of rifle fire ran round the scrub
above Taylor's Hollow and on Walden's Point. Pushing up the Chailak
Dere, the other squadrons of the Otagos came to the heavy barbed-wire
entanglements stretching right across the dere and enfiladed by
fire trenches on the spur. There was nothing to be done but tear
the obstruction away. A section of the Field Troop of New Zealand
Engineers, gallantly led by their subaltern, attacked the wire with
great determination and, after sustaining many casualties, succeeded in
opening the dere to the Otagos and Maoris who pressed on up the gully
towards their objective.

[Illustration: LITTLE TABLE TOP.

Little Table Top was of little military importance, but its
water-scored cliffs are typical of the surrounding country.]

The Canterburys with some Maoris in support, advanced in short rushes
across the flat ground towards the trenches on the foothills. Not a
shot was wasted. Bayonets alone were used. A Turkish machine gun on the
spur leading to Walden's Point was responsible for many casualties, and
this section of the attack was momentarily held up. "Tap, tap, tap"
went the gun, exacting a heavy toll; but a subaltern, named Davidson,
who gained the ridge higher up, collected a few ardent spirits, and
with fixed bayonets, charged straight down the slope. The dirt thrown
up by the angry bullets flicked in their faces as they ran straight for
the gun. Down tumbled the subaltern, killed leading his men, but the
remnants of the party fell upon the gun crew. The keen bayonets did
their silent work, and the gun ceased its death-dealing tapping.

Methodically and irresistibly the Otagos and Canterburys pushed up the
spurs until the greater part of Bauchop's Hill was in our hands. Many a
duel between surprised Turk and desperate New Zealander was fought that
night in the tangled scrub. The ground was so broken, the twists in the
gullies so confusing, that all cohesion was lost. But the troopers knew
that their duty was to press on up the hill, so up the hill they went.
Trench after trench was taken at the bayonet point by Pakeha and Maori.
Presently three great cheers announced the final capture of the hill.
But the losses were severe. Many officers were shot down, including
gallant Colonel Bauchop, who fell mortally wounded, and Captain Bruce
Hay who had taken charge of a hesitating line, was killed shortly after
he had bravely rallied them and led them on.

By now the Sazli Beit Dere, the Chailak Dere, and part of the Aghyl
Dere was opened; the N.Z.M.R. Brigade had decisively smashed the
Turkish line.

The Left Covering Force.

When the attack on the lower slopes of Bauchop's Hill was well under
way the Left Covering Column moved out over the flat ground towards
the mouth of the Aghyl Dere. Having rounded Walden's Point they at
once came under the fire of the enemy. But pressing on, the advance
guard of the 4th South Wales Borderers cleared all before them. The New
Army men, resolutely led, were capable of great things. An hour after
midnight they saw through the gloom the dark mass of the Damakjelik
Bair, and quickly put the Turks to flight.

The lower reaches of the Aghyl Dere were now held by us on both sides;
our left flank was secure; the army landing at Suvla had a definite
point to reach out to.

The Right Assaulting Column.

By midnight the four battalions of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade
were on their way up the deres to the assault of Chunuk Bair. There had
been some delay at the start, as the overs from the high ground fell
among the units as they marched along to the foot of the deres. The
Canterburys went by way of the Sazli Beit, and the Otagos, Aucklands
and Wellingtons proceeded up the Chailak.


  [_Photo by Guy._


Who with his brother, was killed in action on Chunuk Bair.]

The night was so dark and the country so rough and unreconnoitred that
the leading files often crept up little branches of the main dere, and
retracing their steps, caused a certain amount of confusion among the
troops behind. So it happened on one of these occasions that part of
the Canterburys struggled in the inky blackness of the night into a
nullah that led them away from the objective. This caused a certain
amount of delay, enemy rifle fire was very insistent, but clearing
trench after trench, the men pushed slowly up the gullies. Stumbling
over the boulders of the dry watercourse, charging each clump of scrub
that spat out tongues of fire, the men of the infantry brigade pushed
doggedly on.

Going up the Chailak, some of the Otago Infantry lost their way and
"took Table Top" only to be gruffly ordered away by the Wellington
Mounteds who had taken it some hours before! Part of the other two
companies of the Otago Infantry--the 8th Southland and the 10th North
Otago--passed Table Top at dawn and resolutely pressed up the dere, led
by Major Frank Statham, a dauntless-spirited soldier and a born leader.
About an hour after dawn this small band of heroes entered the Turkish
communication trench running across the lower slopes of Rhododendron
Spur from the Chailak Dere. They met with little resistance--indeed on
reaching a point where they could overlook the Sazli Beit Dere, they
were astonished to see the valley crowded with scared Turks streaming
back towards Battleship Hill. Some of the bolder spirits of the Otagos
went right on to the Apex and Chunuk Bair! If there had been a dozen
leaders of the Statham type--men who understood country and men of
resolution--the whole of Chunuk might have been ours by nine o'clock.
The enemy was certainly demoralized and on the run.

A signalling officer of the Ghurkas now arrived and sent a message back
to his brigade slowly proceeding up the Aghyl Dere.

The broken country delayed the rest of our brigade. The Canterburys
proceeding up the Sazli Beit had some trouble at Destroyer Hill
because, as we know, the Turkish communication trenches all led in
that direction and fresh fugitive Turks were constantly arriving. It
was well light before the Canterburys reached the lower slopes of
Rhododendron. These slopes were for some time called Canterbury Ridge,
but the older name of Rhododendron survived.

As it was now light, and the attack undoubtedly late, Chunuk could not
be taken by surprise. But looking down towards the Suvla Flats, we were
heartened by the great flotilla of ships and barges in Suvla Bay. Hope
again ran high, for help seemed close at hand. With another effort the
brigade pressed forward and reached the small depression now known as
the Apex, but then christened the Mustard Plaster.

Orders came that an effort must be made to take Chunuk. The machine
guns of the Otago Battalion established themselves along the front,
thus securing the right flank, and doing great execution to the Turks
who were being driven up the gully and were seemingly not aware that we
had a footing on Rhododendron. The Wellington guns were then dug in on
the left of the Otagos, but lined so as to face north and thus command
Chunuk Bair which our infantry must assault. The Auckland guns were
just a few yards behind; those of the Canterburys had not yet arrived.
The order came for the advance with only half the guns posted. There
was a little hesitancy, but Major S. A. Grant gallantly rushed forward
and led the Aucklands over the crest. A thousand yards of the heights,
thick with Turkish rifles, carried out rapid fire on that small band
of heroes. Nothing could live in it and with the exception of a few
survivors who gained a deserted Turk trench 120 yards in front, the
whole were either killed or wounded. The gallant Major Grant was
mortally wounded, dying from his wounds that evening. At this point,
if the Turks had pushed out a counter attack, they could have cleared
the Apex; but the machine guns were invaluable; they cut up the crest
between them and undoubtedly saved the sadly harassed line.

The troops were now very tired. An advance of a little more than a mile
over most difficult country had been achieved. Taking advantage of what
little cover was available, the left flank threw out little parties
to get in touch with the Left Assaulting Column, which, as we know,
consisted of the 4th Australian Brigade and the 29th Indian Brigade.

This column in pushing up the Aghyl Dere had met very strenuous
opposition, but had surprised many Turks and driven them up the gully.
The Aghyl Dere forks about 2000 yards from the sea; the Australians
went up the northern one so that the Suvla army, after getting in
touch with the New Army troops on Damakjelik Bair could push on and
prolong General Monash's left. By dawn, this brigade had reached the
ridge overlooking the head of the Asma Dere. The Indian Brigade, guided
by Major Overton, of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles, proceeded up the
southern fork of the Aghyl Dere towards The Farm, which lay beneath the
crest of Chunuk Bair. Poor Overton and his companion scout were killed
while leading up the dere. After receiving the message from their
signalling officer the right flank of the Indians felt out towards
Rhododendron, and succeeded in coming into touch with the New Zealand
Infantry Brigade; the 14th Sikhs felt out towards their left and came
into touch with the 4th Australians.

[Illustration: MAJOR OVERTON'S GRAVE.]

The exhausted line made repeated efforts to get on, but the Turks were
now thoroughly alive to the threatened turning movement and hastily
flung fresh troops on to Abdel Rahman spur to impede the Australians,
who were standing at bay in truly awful country--standing at bay with
their left flank in the air--in touch with no one. The Suvla Bay was
full of ships, but there seemed no movement towards the vital hills.

All that day the troops lay out on the hot hillside exhausted with
their heavy night march. True the ambitious programme of the operation
order had not been achieved in its entirety, but a marked and valuable
advance had been made. The Anzac troops felt that at last they had
room to breathe, for Anzac had been very cramped. Here, after four
months of waiting and watching, we were standing on new ground. There
was a certain thrill and a little pardonable pride in the realization
that these strongly entrenched and defended hill-sides had been taken
by a citizen soldiery from the flower of the Turkish Army.

There was one disagreeable disadvantage in holding these steep
hills--that was the supply of water, ammunition and food. But the
Indian Supply and Transport Corps was equal to the emergency. As soon
as it was dark the drabis of the supply columns started with their pack
mules, and though they paid a heavy toll in men and animals, undeterred
they gallantly soldiered on.

The Canterbury machine guns arrived at the Apex that evening. The
gunners, dead beat, had carried their guns, tripods, spare parts,
their own rifles and equipment, with one hundred and twenty rounds of
ammunition in their pouches, and a box of ammunition between every two
men. They had marched and fought the clock round. Now they had to stand
by and hold the line. There was no time for sleep. It was dig, dig,
dig, and bury the dead.

The survivors of the Aucklands stayed out in their bomb-swept trench.
The Otagos were withdrawn to the Rhododendron for reorganization.

So the night passed with the Auckland Battalion in front of the Apex;
the Ghurkas and the Sikhs on the ridge overlooking The Farm; the 4th
Australian Brigade on the Asma Dere. The New Zealand Mounted Rifles
dug in and improved their line from Destroyer Hill to Table Top and
Bauchop's Hill. General Travers's force was secure on Damakjelik Bair.
But the Anzac Army was not yet in touch with the troops at Suvla.

Part III.

The Attack of August 8.

That night the whole of the attacking force was reorganized in three

Right Column--Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston.

  26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one section).
  N. Z. Infantry Brigade.
  Auckland Mounted Rifles.
  Maori Contingent.
  8th Welsh Pioneers.       } from the 13th Division
  7th Gloucesters.          } in Reserve.

The Right Column was to assault Chunuk Bair at dawn on the 8th. The
Auckland Mounteds and the Maoris were to be brought up from the Right
Covering Column.

Centre and Left Columns--Major-General H. V. Cox.

  21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section).
  4th Australian Infantry Brigade.
  29th Indian Infantry Brigade.
  9th Royal Warwicks.
  9th Worcesters.
  7th North Staffords.
  6th South Lancashires.

The centre of this force was to attack Hill Q; the left was to attack
the Abdel Rahman spur--the two attacks converging on Koja Chemen Tepe,
the highest point in the range.

We must look in turn at the left, the centre, and the right.

Away on the left the Australians of the 4th Brigade moved up the Asma
Dere towards the lower slopes of Abdel Rahman Bair. The intention was
to gain a footing, then wheel to the right, and work up this rugged
northern spur towards Koja Chemen Tepe. By this time, however, Turkish
reserves had accumulated all along the rear slopes of the whole
mountain system. With machine guns and shrapnel the Ottoman soldiery
assailed the Australians, who were presently almost surrounded.
Hopelessly outnumbered, wearied with incessant fighting, the gallant
4th Brigade fell back to its former line.

In the centre the men of the 39th New Army Brigade and the Indians
fared little better. Pushing on past both sides of The Farm the troops
assailed the lower spurs leading up to Hill Q and the left of Chunuk.
But the Turkish machine gunners and riflemen were fresh from reserve.
They held the high ground with all its advantages, they were fighting
in a country with which they were familiar, and compelled our line to
come to a definite standstill on the slopes overlooking The Farm.

The Capture of Chunuk Bair.

On the right things were going better. At dawn the men of the
Wellington Infantry Regiment were ready again to attack the fatal
crestline. The tired troops of yesterday were once again to essay the
seemingly impossible.

At 4.15 in the grey of the morning, the Wellington Infantry and the
7th Gloucesters, led by Lieut.-Colonel Malone, commenced the desperate
struggle for Chunuk Bair. So far as the New Zealanders are concerned,
August 8, 1915, was the blackest day on the Peninsula. But the prize
was the strategical key to the Gallipoli Peninsula. Win the Ridge
and we should win the Narrows. Open the Narrows to the Navy, and
Constantinople was ours! Surely a prize worth fighting for. So from the
scanty trenches on Rhododendron Spur leapt the Wellingtons and the 7th

By their dash and audacity the crestline was soon gained. We now had
a footing on the ridge, and to cling to that foothold and extend from
it was now the pressing need. The Wellingtons and Gloucesters started
to dig in, but the enemy evidently made up his mind to cut the New
Zealanders off. A body of snipers picked off all the machine gun crews.
When Malone's battalion was seen marching along the skyline four
machine guns were pushed up to him. These guns never came back. When
half way up the ridge a veritable hail of lead burst round them, and
they were so badly damaged that only one gun could be reconstructed
from the remnants of the four; but it got into position and did good
service until the whole of the gun crew were killed or wounded.

Two machine guns that were to support the right flank of the
attackers from the Apex were pushed forward on the slope to avoid
being silhouetted against the crest line. The Turkish snipers now
concentrated on these guns. Soon all the personnel were killed or
wounded. A Maori machine gun close by lost their officer killed and had
nine other casualties, but a few men fought their gun all day without a
murmur. This was the only machine gun left in action on this flank.

The devoted party on the crest was assailed with every variety of
shell, hand grenades and maxims. Time after time, Turks advanced to the
attack but were driven off at the point of the bayonet. The Gloucesters
who had lost all their officers now came down the ridge to the help of
the New Zealanders. They seemed dazed, but instinct and the example of
the New Zealanders convinced them that the bayonet was the weapon for
the Turk. Time and time again they charged and cleared their front.

The Glory of New Zealand.

This forward Turkish trench became a veritable death trap. Not far
behind it was another line that resolved itself into our real line
of resistance. But some ardent spirits of the Aucklands, Otagos and
Wellingtons decided to stick to their forward line. No one--except the
dozen badly-wounded survivors--can conceive the horrors of that awful
front line trench. It was practically dark when they arrived in the
early hours of the morning. When daylight came it proved to be a fatal
position. About ten or fifteen yards to their front the ground sloped
rapidly away into a valley until again it revealed itself about six
hundred yards away. When it was light this far away hill was seen to be
occupied by about a battalion of Turks--a battalion advancing to attack
this forward trench of Chunuk! A few long range shots were all that
could be fired. Then came the long wait while the attackers crossed the
gully. To the waiting New Zealanders--the New Zealand infantrymen who
had penetrated farthest into Turkey--the minutes seemed hours. But a
shower of hand grenades announced the beginning of the end. From the
dead ground in the front came bombs and more bombs. Away from the
left came the Turkish shrapnel. To fire at all, our men had to stand
up in the trench and expose themselves almost bodily to view. One by
one they died on Chunuk, until after a few hours desperate struggle
against overwhelming forces the only New Zealanders left alive were a
dozen severely wounded. But not for a long time did the first Turk dare
show his head. Then into the trench several crept with their bayonets
to kill the wounded. Fortunately a Turkish sergeant arrived and saved
the lives of the wounded who were carried off to the German dressing
stations behind Hill Q. In all the history of the Gallipoli Campaign
there is no finer story of fortitude, no finer exhibition of heroism
and self-sacrifice, than was shown in this forward trench of Chunuk on
that desperate August morning. Here died some of the noblest characters
in the New Zealand Army. August 8 was a day of tragedy for New Zealand,
but no day in our calendar shines with greater glory.

All that day midst the shriek of the Turkish shrapnel, the dull booming
of the British naval guns, the incessant rattle of musketry and machine
gun fire, that heroic band held on. With their faces blackened with
dust and sweat, with the smell of the picric acid assailing their
nostrils, with their tongues parched for the lack of water, up there in
the blazing heat of the August sun those gallant souls held on.

The Auckland Mounted Rifles and the Maoris arrived at Rhododendron
about 3 a.m. and were ordered to the firing line about 11 o'clock.
The Aucklanders went out to help Colonel Malone on the ridge. On came
the Turks again. The line of infantry and mounteds drove them back at
the point of the bayonet. A portion of Chunuk Bair was undoubtedly
ours, but at what a cost! Many of the finest young men of the Dominion
lay dead upon the crest. Colonel Malone himself, one of the striking
characters in the New Zealand army, was killed as he was marking out
the trench line.


 These photographs were taken after the Armistice in 1918, and clearly
 show the distinction between Chunuk Bair and Hill 971, which was 1,400
 yards away. No British Troops ever got on to Koja Chemen Tepe (or Hill
 971). When New Zealanders say they were on "the top of 971," they mean
 "the ridge of Chunuk Bair." Hill Q is about 600 yards from the highest
 point of Chunuk Bair. Koja Chemen Tepe is 800 yards further on than
 the crest of Q.]


Hill Q is the high ground to the right.]

It was during this struggle for Chunuk Bair that Corporal Bassett of
the Divisional Signallers undertook to carry the telephone line up
on to the ridge and gained the first V.C. for New Zealand. In full
daylight, with the approach swept by rifle and machine gun fire, with
the Turkish field artillery from Abdel Rahman mercilessly searching the
slopes, Bassett dashed and then crept, then dashed and crept again, up
to the forward line on Chunuk. These lines were cut again and again,
but Bassett and his fellow linesmen of the Signals went out day and
night to mend the broken wires. No V.C. on the Peninsula was more
consistently earned. This was not for one brilliant act of bravery, but
for a full week of ceaseless devotion.

The Maoris were sent over more to the left and most gallantly hung on
to an almost untenable position in the neighbourhood of The Farm. They
suffered grievous losses uncomplainingly. At dusk the Otago Infantry
went out to reinforce what was left of the Wellington and Auckland
Infantry, the 7th Gloucesters, and the Auckland Mounteds. Already the
Otagos had suffered terribly, but throughout that awful night of August
8 all previous experiences were as nothing. It was a night of agony by
thirst, of nerve-wracking bomb explosions, and of bayonet jabs in the

In the darkness a little much-needed water was carried out to the
thirsty men. Hand grenades, food and reinforcements went out to the
battered trenches; more machine guns were sent--three from the Cheshire
Regiment, three from the Wiltshires, and one from the Wellington
Mounted Rifles. The Cheshire guns came back as there was ample without
them. This second lot of four guns was never seen again.

Still another effort had to be made, for the hold we had on Chunuk had
to be increased. It was the most important capture, so far, in the
whole campaign; but the Suvla army still clung to the low ground at
Suvla, leaving the Australians with their left flank out in the air
waiting for the necessary support to carry them on to victory up the
Abdel Rahman.

There was no time to lose. The partial success on Chunuk must be
exploited. We could not afford to wait on Suvla.

The Ghurkas Attack Hill Q.

Once again on the night of August 8 the columns were reorganized for
the attack:

No. 1 Column--Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston.

  26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one Section).
  Auckland Mounted Rifles.
  Wellington Mounted Rifles.
  N.Z. Infantry Brigade.
  7th Gloucesters.
  8th Welsh Pioneers.

The Wellington Mounted Rifles came up from Table Top during the night,
but the other troops were already on Chunuk Bair. Their duty on the
morrow was to consolidate their position, and if possible extend it.

No. 2 Column--Major-General H. V. Cox.

  21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section).
  4th Australian Infantry Brigade.
  29th Indian Infantry Brigade.
  39th Brigade (less the 7th Gloucesters).
  6th Battalion South Lancashire Regiment.

This column was to attack the heights of Hill Q.

No. 3 Column--Brigadier-General A. H. Baldwin.

  6th East Lancashires.        } From the
  6th Loyal North Lancashires. } 38th Brigade.
  10th Hampshires.             } From the
  6th Royal Irish Rifles.      } 29th Brigade.
  5th Wiltshires.              } 40th Brigade.

These troops were from the Army Corps Reserve. They were to assemble in
the Chailak Dere on the night of the 8th, move up to Rhododendron Spur
in the dark, and getting in touch with the No. 1 Column on Chunuk Bair,
move up the slopes towards Hill Q.

Troops moving up defiles in the dark are always late, for so many
factors seem to work adversely. Wounded men and transport mules will
persist in coming down and blocking the road. Wounded men are generally
past caring about the fortunes of the fight. Indian mule drivers know
they have to get back to their depot and are perhaps not told the
proper track to take. This, of course, is soon regulated when things
are normal; but while a fight is on there is a good deal of confusion.

No. 1 Column carried out its task and held on to Chunuk Bair; the
Ghurkas struggled up the steeps of Hill Q, their ranks becoming visibly
thinner and thinner until the watchers from the posts below wondered
if there would be enough momentum to carry them to the top. But they
undoubtedly did get there. The Navy now commenced firing over the crest
in order to debar the Turk from pressing a counter-attack. Some of
the shells fell short among the Ghurkas. Instead of getting help from
Baldwin, who was only at The Farm, a few heavy shells crashed on to
the summit. This was one of the tragedies of Anzac. Instead of help
came our own shells. It is the price that must be paid for artillery
support in broken country. These things are unavoidable--they are the
misfortune of war.

[Illustration: A SIKH AND A GHURKA.]

But the enemy saw his chance. Launching a counterattack, the gallant
handful of survivors was swept off the crest and into the valley
below. Simultaneously a flood was loosed on the 4th Australians; wave
after wave was hurled against the New Zealanders up on the shoulder of
Chunuk Bair; flushed with success and confident in the overwhelming
superiority of numbers, wave after wave of skirmishers was thrown
around Baldwin's forces at The Farm until the column was well-nigh
annihilated. General Baldwin himself was killed with many of his
commanding officers. The survivors retired to their original position
on the ridge overlooking The Farm.

The only force to hold its ground was General Johnston's on Chunuk
Bair, where a poor trenchline of 200 yards was occupied. Our fellows
were too exhausted to dig in the hard ground and rock of the
crest-line. It was impossible to put out wire.

This brings us to the end of Sunday, August 9. The battle at Lone Pine
was still raging. Down at Suvla, high officers were trying to infuse a
little energy into an army that had become moribund.

Worn out with three days and three nights of fighting under a merciless
sun, with a short ration of water, suffering tremendous losses, the New
Zealanders and other troops on Chunuk Bair were withdrawn for a little
rest on the evening of August 9. Their place was taken by the 6th Loyal
North Lancashires and the 5th Wiltshires. It was estimated that more
than two battalions could not be usefully employed on the ridge.

We Lose the Crest of Chunuk.

At dawn on the 10th, these two battalions had disappeared! Some of the
North Lancashires who escaped explained that the Wiltshires arrived
tired and did not dig in; they were attacked by the Turks with knives
and bombs; the Wiltshires ran in towards the Lancashires and the
machine guns, and so masked their fire. So were these two battalions
wiped out!

About 6 a.m. the Turks delivered their famous counterattack down the
slopes of Chunuk Bair, and endeavoured to get at the New Army regiments
on the left of the Apex. But the four machine guns of the Canterbury
Battalion were on the left front of the Apex, and the two remaining
guns of the Auckland Battalion were on the Apex itself; two guns of
the Wellington Battalion were back on the Rhododendron with the Maori
gun and the flank gun of the Otago Infantry--these four could fire
over the heads of the guns on the Apex, and commanded the whole of the
approaches from Chunuk Bair. The small details of training, generally
found so irksome, now proved of value. The gunners had already attended
to their guns at the first streak of day. A Canterbury gunner, finding
his gun difficult to adjust reported to the N.Z. Brigade Machine Gun
Officer, who was sighting the gun on to the ridge when the first line
of the Turkish attack came over at that very point. This gun had the
range at once, and followed by keeping the sights a little in advance
of the enemy. The other guns quickly took up the rat-a-tat; the range
was sent to the other five guns. The N.Z. Mounted Brigade machine guns
on Table Top and Bauchop's Hill also found a good target at extreme
range. The New Zealand field guns, especially the howitzers, also
opened up at once.


  [_Photo by Col. Falla, C.M.G., D.S.O._


The Turkish line consisted of from 250 to 300 men at about one pace
interval. By the time they reached a point immediately in front of the
guns, the whole of the N.Z. machine guns were concentrated at that
point in accordance with the orders hurriedly issued. Thus was created
a death zone through which the enemy could not pass. They fell over
literally like oats before a reaper. Twenty two lines came down each
as true and steady as the first. They moved at a jog trot with their
rifles at the port. The machine gunners with the assistance of the Navy
and the Field Artillery mowed down line after line until the Turkish
effort was spent. A number of Turks crawled back during the forenoon.
They were not molested by the machine gunners, who admired their
bravery so much as to leave them alone.

The New Zealand Infantry Brigade was relieved at 2 p.m. that day, but
the machine guns were left in to stiffen up the New Army regiments.

At about 2.30 a.m. there was an attack and much confusion. The Turks
showed on the top of the Apex, but the two flank guns of the Canterbury
Battalion quickly dispersed them. Order was only restored at daylight.
The presence of the N.Z. machine guns had saved the situation. The
N.Z. Infantry Brigade again came in with the Aucklanders on the Apex.
The next morning the Turks occupied the point of the Apex, and it
was decided to take a Vickers Maxim out to the front and open up on
them from an unexpected quarter. The gun was just in position when a
peculiar incident occurred. An Otago man of the 5th Reinforcements was
working in front of where the gun took up position. He was told to stop
work when the gun was ready and to crouch down so that the gun could
fire over him. Against all the rules of war he immediately lighted his
pipe. The Turks, only 80 yards away, opened fire with about twenty
rifles on to the light. Their rifle flashes disclosed their position
and the machine gun drove them out.

The New Zealand Infantry were relieved again in a short time and the
machine gunners moved back to Rhododendron. On the first morning after
their move back, a blockhouse was found to have been built in No Man's
Land during the night. It now became plain what the Turks had been
trying to do, but this had been prevented as long as the N.Z. Infantry
were in possession. This blockhouse was a great nuisance to our men at
the Apex, until it was summarily dealt with by the Canterburys later in
the month.

Part IV.

The Battle of Sari Bair.

The Suvla Landing.

We know that the thrust towards Koja Chemen Tepe from Suvla Bay failed.
Let us examine the causes of the failure. For of what use is history if
we do not seek to understand its lessons?

The story of the failure at Suvla Bay is not only the story of the
misfortune of war. It ranks with the tragedy of Kut-el-Amara as an
illustration of what must happen to a nation which accepts world-wide
responsibilities and does not keep itself in a state of preparedness
for possibilities.

The people of the British Empire did not realize that an efficient army
was the complement to a powerful navy. For battleships cannot cross
deserts or climb mountains. Indeed, battleships, as every soldier who
was on Gallipoli Peninsula knows, are of incalculable value for moral
effect, but for supporting troops ashore in mountainous country they
are almost useless. Their guns cannot get at the enemy behind the
crest. Only on rare occasions can ships' guns search reverse slopes.
Ships are built to fight ships--not to act as army corps artillery.

No regular soldiers were available for these subsidiary operations
in the East, but the next best--an army corps of the New Army--was
available for this advance over broken, unreconnoitred country.

The 9th Army Corps, under Lieut.-General Sir F. Stopford, was organized
as follows:--

The 10th (Irish) Division (Lieut-General Sir B. Mahon) was composed of
the 29th Brigade (detached for service at Anzac), the 30th Brigade, and
the 31st Brigade.

The 11th (Northern) Division (Major-General F. Hammersley), consisted
of the 32nd, the 33rd, and the 34th Brigades.

The 13th (Western) Division (Major-General F. C. Shaw), was also taken
from the Suvla Army to act at Anzac. The three brigades were the 38th,
39th, and the 40th.

In that four of his brigades were landed at Anzac, General Stopford
did not have anything like an army corps. His divisional artillery was
lamentably weak, and his corps artillery almost non-existent. True, he
had the support of some warships, but as we know, this support is not
so much material as moral.

It was estimated that a force of 20,000 rifles would overpower a thin
screen of Turks, which was reckoned at about 4000.

The 53rd and 54th Territorial Division (of infantry only) were to
arrive later and be used as a general reserve.

The Hill Features of the Suvla Plain.

The country was not so hilly as at Anzac. From Lala Baba, looking due
east, one saw the high ground running from the Gulf of Saros round
towards the two Anafartas and so to the underfeatures of Sari Bair near
Abdel Rahman Bair.

The plan of campaign was to land during the night of August 6/7 at
three beaches to the north and south of Nibrunesi Point, push back the
screen of enemy scouts holding the sparsely-wooded plain and rolling
country, and occupy the hills about Anafarta, and so take a measure of
the strain off the direct push for Koja Chemen Tepe. Having got astride
the high ground near Anafarta the Turkish communications from Bulair to
their Ari Burnu front would be imperilled.

A reference to the map will show that the conception was a reasonable
one if the country was not strongly held. Resolute troops, vigorously
led, might have reasonably achieved a success. But Chance did not smile
upon our efforts, and instead of closely examining the structure of
this high ground inland, we must look at the tactical features much
nearer the coast line.


The landing place most used in the later stages was near Cape Suvla,
just inside Suvla Bay.]

On the extreme left flank, and overlooking the Gulf of Saros, was the
long ridge known as Kiretch Tepe Sirt. The southern foothills of this
range merged into an expanse of cultivated land, bounded on the
east by the Anafarta Hills, and on the west by the Salt Lake. During
the winter months the Salt Lake takes all the flood waters from the
surrounding hills, and the rough weather brings in the salt water. But
in August the water had disappeared and there was a circular expanse of
grey, sticky sand, measuring a mile across.

About a mile in a south-easterly direction from Lala Baba was the
tactical feature christened "Chocolate Hill." The gorse and grass on
this hill caught fire during the fighting, and one part of it became
a more pronounced reddish-brown than ever. The southern portion was
not burnt, and is distinguished on the map as Green Hill. Standing
on Chocolate Hill and looking towards the east, one saw, half left,
the high ground called Scimitar Hill, and half right, the ill-starred
Ismail Oglu Tepe, known to our men as "W" Hills. The "W" Hills looked
down on to the valley of the Asmak Dere, which ran into the sea about
two miles south of Lala Baba, and running generally in a westerly
direction towards Biyuk Anafarta, threw out two forks, one to the foot
of Abdel Rahman Bair, the other towards Kaiajik Aghala (Hill 60). The
latter fork was the Asma Dere, which, running up past Hill 60, drained
the watershed of Abdel Rahman Bair. Just to the south of the Azmak
Dere, and between Kaiajik Aghala and the sea, was the high ground of
Damakjelik Bair.

So it was intended that the Suvla Army, pushing on across the flat
plains of Suvla in the early morning, should get in touch with their
New Army comrades on Damakjelik and prolong the right of the new Anzac
line held by General Travers's and the 4th Australian Brigades.

The Landing Beaches.

The day before the battle the component parts of the Army Corps were
widely scattered. Part was at Mitylene, 120 miles away; part was at
Mudros, 50 miles away; the remainder at Kephalos, on Imbros, about 16
miles away. As soon as it was fully dark, these three bodies of troops
were speeding on their way to Suvla. Three beaches were to be used.
Beach A was in the centre of Suvla Bay. Beaches B and C were to the
south of Nibrunesi--B for infantry and C for the disembarkation of

At 8 o'clock on the night of the 6th, the force sailed from Kephalos
with its collection of water boats, barges and lighters. At 9.30 p.m.,
the flotilla silently crept towards Nibrunesi, and the disembarkation
commenced. The 32nd and 33rd Brigades got ashore expeditiously at Beach
B and rushed Lala Baba.

Then occurred the first disaster. Beach A was not reconnoitred, and the
barges containing the 34th Brigade ran aground. Men jumped into the
water and waded ashore. A few Turkish snipers on Hill 10 and Lala Baba
crept among the troops, who were new to war. In the dark, confusion
reigned. When daylight came the troops were ashore, but that was about
all. There was no pressing on. The men were shaken by their experience
of the night. The line ran round from Lala Baba across the flat ground
to Hill 10.

Trouble at the Beaches.

Just as it was getting light, six battalions of the 10th Division
arrived from far-distant Mitylene. These troops were to go out to the
extreme left flank. They should have landed at Beach A, but owing
to the shallows and the difficulties already experienced there, the
Navy took them to Beach B, south of Nibrunesi! This again upset the
prearranged plan. These battalions fell in and marched along the
mile and a half of open beach towards the left flank, passing behind
and through the men who had earlier experienced the mess caused by
inefficient reconnaissance.

By the time the remaining battalions of the 10th Division arrived, the
Navy had found a small landing place in one of the little bays on the
southern side of Suvla Point, just inside Suvla Bay. These men of the
Irish Division scrambled ashore and pushed on to the high ground of
Karakol Dagh.

When noon came the sun beat down on those poor citizen soldiers, worn
out and tired by their long sea journeys, harassed by daring snipers in
the dark, not very resolutely led, not at home in this hot and dusty
country, tortured by thirst, the improvized and intricate machine went
to pieces at the first rough jolt. Most of that day the Suvla Army sat
down and waited for something to turn up. But during the afternoon some
bold spirits led two battalions of the 11th Division across the flat
ground and secured a foothold on the Chocolate Hills. So, from a point
above Karakol Dagh, the line ran through Hill 10 and past the Salt Lake
to the Chocolate Hills, about two miles from the outpost of their New
Army comrades on Damakjelik Bair.

That night the Anzac troops, as we know, were holding the line
Damakjelik-Asma Dere-Rhododendron Spur.

The Morning of August 8.

This morning--the morning when Malone stood triumphant on the crest of
Chunuk Bair; when the Australians were pluckily attempting to carry
Abdel Rahman--passed strangely inactive at Suvla. Following on their
exhaustion and the heat of the midday sun, the men undoubtedly suffered
agonies from thirst. There was water in the Suvla Plain, but no proper
provision was made to take advantage of it. Instead, much effort was
directed towards getting the supplies known to be somewhere at hand in
ships and lighters. So one thing reacted on another--the bad landing
beach at A caused exhaustion in the troops disembarked there, and was
the cause of greater confusion when the troops for the left flank
were landed on the right. This caused delay, which meant that more
of the precious water was consumed than was allowed for. As a matter
of fact, such was the lack of ordinary supervision, numbers of men
landed without any water in their water-bottles at all! Those who had
water consumed it during the waiting of the day. So General Stopford
brought off mules to carry water in preference to artillery horses, and
created a further excuse for delay--not enough supporting artillery!
At the Anzac landing horses could not be landed, but willing men
manhandled the guns up precipitous cliffs to their positions. No one
seemed to think of this at Suvla. But the Generals in command seemed
fairly satisfied with the progress of things. General Hamilton, over at
Imbros, from where he could best keep touch of his widely-scattered
army, got so uneasy that he could not resist hurrying to Suvla to see
why the advance had been hung up. Nothing was done, but one battalion,
the 6th East York Pioneers, occupied Scimitar Hill and dug in for the
night. It was decided to make an advance early in the morning. Then an
extraordinary incident occurred. The higher command evidently did not
know where the battalions were. The 6th East Yorks were considered to
be the freshest, and were ordered to the attack on another hill in the
morning. This battalion had taken Scimitar Hill, but those in command
did not seem to know it. Accordingly, the 6th East Yorks abandoned
their position on this valuable hill without an effort and marched back
to Sulajik!


  [_Lent by Rev. Wainohu, C.F._


The Next Day--August 9.

Early in the morning the 32nd Brigade attacked the hills towards
Anafarta, but were repulsed and continued to occupy a line running
north and south through Sulajik.

This day the New Zealanders clung to the ridge of Chunuk Bair, the
Ghurkas and 6th South Lancashires struggled on to Hill Q, but the
Suvla Army, worn out with fatigue and thirst, lay along the low ground
stretching from the Chocolate Hills towards Kiretch Tepe Sirt.

In this day's attack on Scimitar Hill, serious scrub fires broke out
and held the attention of the troops for the rest of the day. At noon
the units fell back to a line between Sulajik and Green Hill.

A New Move that Failed.

General Hamilton concluded that on this right flank success would be
delayed, and decided to land part of his reserve--the infantry brigades
of the 54th Division--up at the new landing place near Cape Suvla, so
that they might advance, with the 10th Irish Division, along Kiretch
Tepe Sirt, then thrust towards Kavak Tepe and capture the line Ejelmer
Bay to Anafarta, thus turning the Turkish flank.

The infantry of the 53rd (Territorial) Division landed during the
night of the 8/9th, and were to assist the units on the right flank.
The advance of these newly-arrived territorials was a pitiable thing.
Crossing the open country from Lala Baba towards the Anafarta Hills,
the enemy artillery, now considerably increased, took heavy toll. The
enemy again fought his sniping screen with conspicuous ability. The
attack could not get on. Realizing that the troops were unequal to the
situation, it was decided to dig in on a line from near the Azmak Dere,
through the knoll east of the Chocolate Hill, to the ground held by the
10th Division on Kiretch Tepe Sirt.

On August 11, the infantry brigades of the 54th Division were
disembarked and placed in reserve. An attack on Kavak Tepe-Tekke Tepe
was planned by Sir Ian Hamilton, but after a series of minor disasters
the projected night march and attack was abandoned. General Stopford
was now thoroughly convinced that his troops could not be expected
to do more. Even if they gained the high ground, he considered that
the supply of water and food would be too difficult and well-nigh
impossible to arrange. There seemed nothing to do but to dig in
everywhere and strengthen the line.

       *       *       *       *       *

So ended the great battle for the heights of Sari Bair. The Turk still
held the higher ground at Helles, Anzac, and Suvla.


After the Battle.

The Trenches on the Crest of Chunuk.

There has been placed on record a statement that the trenches on the
crest of Chunuk were badly sited. No soldier of experience would have
made such a criticism if he understood the facts. Bare justice is due
to Colonel Malone and those New Zealanders who took Chunuk and held it.
It has been said that the trench line was the wrong side of the crest,
and that there was not a good field of fire.

What would anyone else have done?

We all know that a trench should have the best field of fire. But one
can easily get in a training manual what one seeks for in vain during a
pitched battle! In the carefully prepared treatise, principles are laid
down and their application is expounded. But the enemy is not firing
bullets and hand grenades in the book. The ground in the book, too, is
easy to dig.

Look for a moment at this sketch of a typical crest.


It is obvious that the trenchline we have gained is the best possible
one under the circumstances. No one contends that it is the best one
theoretically, but at least one has a certain amount of protection.
Anyone who goes forward on to the crest itself is killed by bomb or
rifle fire; anyone who goes over the enemy's side of the crest to dig
posts that have a good field of fire is also sure to be killed. This,
however, does not deter determined soldiers from trying. The men who
did try on Chunuk were buried long after by the Turks, and cannot reply
to criticism--criticism which is cheap, and, in this case, futile.

The only thing to do is to dig deep zig-zag saps through the crest
line, put T heads on each sap, and so get posts with a field of
fire--posts that can be connected by sapping. A determined enemy--and
the Turk was very determined--will not let attacking troops do exactly
what they wish, otherwise war might be made safe, and the front line
become more popular than it is!

The fact remains that the trenches on Chunuk Bair were the only
possible ones for such a situation. Those of us who have found
it necessary to entrench on a crest line in close proximity to a
determined foe, know that what was done on Chunuk could not have been
done any better by anybody else; and there, for the present, the matter
must stand.

The Water Problem.

The question of water was perhaps our most terrible problem during the
week-long battle. It had always been one of the problems of Anzac, but
that awful week in August was the culmination.

In anticipation of the offensive, great efforts were made to overcome
the shortage. It was known that good wells existed on the other side
of the watershed where the Turkish armies bivouacked, and in the
neighbourhood of Kabak Kuyu on the Suvla Plain. Until we could get
these wells, we had to make extraordinary provision. From Egypt, India
and England, every class of water receptacle was procured. Milk cans
came from England; fantassahs from the caravans of Egypt; pakhals from
India; sealed petrol tins by the thousand, filled with water from the
Nile, arrived and were stacked ready for the advance. Water from a
petrol tin looks rusty and tastes abominably, but it is water, and men
count themselves fortunate to get it.

The value of water in the campaign can be realized from one
illustration. Success seemed within our grasp when we got a foothold
on the crest of Chunuk. Tacticians of the Army consider that from
there success should have been exploited--that all available reserves
should have been thrown in there and so distributed along Hill Q to
Koja Chemen Tepe. General Sir Ian Hamilton has put it on record that he
was tempted to throw his reserves into the balance at Chunuk Bair, but
each time the problem of the water supply dissuaded him from putting
any more thirsty men at Anzac. That they were ultimately more thirsty
at Suvla is part of the tragedy, which is easy to point out now, but
difficult then to foresee.


  [_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


All through the fight on Chunuk Bair men's throats were parched for
the want of water. Intense thirst is one of the cruellest torments man
can suffer. Hot weather, hill climbing, and the excitement of fighting
combine to accentuate the desire to drink. On occasions like this, the
contents of two water bottles do not last long. When the New Zealand
infantry went out on to Chunuk Bair, they had marched all the night
before and lain out on the hillside during the torrid day. Their water
was soon consumed. Water bottles were carefully collected from the
dead, more carefully even than ammunition. The short supply gallantly
carried up by the Indian transport service did not go far, but it
saved the situation.

Perhaps the success of the Australian and New Zealand divisions in this
war was due to having in their ranks skilled and resourceful men who
had spent most of their lives solving problems for themselves. In any
case the New Zealand Engineers took advantage of the well near No. 2
and developed it to the full. Not that there were no difficulties. On
one occasion the bearings got heated, metal ran out of the couplings,
and the engine broke down. Spare parts could be made on the warships,
but that meant delay. We were getting 1,000 gallons per hour, and
pumping 20 hours a day. This meant keeping 2 divisions supplied; so one
old sapper filed up a new bearing out of the gun-metal coupling off a
service pump! Again, owing to the lubricating oil being so poor, the
cylinder rings used to burn on to the piston, and had to be forced off.
First one was broken, and then another. New rings were made by cutting
up a Turkish 4.5 shell with a hack-saw! The job was a lengthy one, but
as the shell was the right thickness, they proved to be A1. After that
a few were always kept on hand. Not without ingenuity and knowledge
born of experience did the troops at Anzac get the water denied their
unfortunate comrades at Suvla.

The Fifth Reinforcements.

If ever mortals were projected into a hell of torture and suffering
it was the men of the 5th Reinforcements. Coming straight from the
transports, they arrived at No. 2 Post on August 8, and were summarily
introduced to modern war. Hundreds of wounded had been carried
down from the bloody slopes of Chunuk and were laid in rows in the
neighbourhood of No. 2 Post, in readiness to be carried along the Big
Sap, and so to the piers as soon as it was dark. These men of the 5th
Reinforcements had served little apprenticeship to active service; but
they had heard of the casualties of the landing at Anzac and Helles,
and some have written that at first they were of the impression that
these rows of wounded men were an everyday occurrence! In a sort of
nightmare, not knowing whither they were going, or even the name of
the dere they traversed, these men dived into the trenches on Chunuk
Bair and found themselves among Wellington and Otago Infantry, Auckland
and Wellington Mounteds--the heroic band of brothers clinging to Chunuk
and prepared to die there. A great proportion did die there; but they
held Chunuk! Into this company of heroes stumbled the men of the Fifths.

They were greeted with "dig for your lives for dawn is not far away,
and if you haven't got cover by then, you're dead men!" All through
the night the digging, the bombing, and the shooting continued. Rifle
barrels got so hot they had to be discarded, and a rifle from a dead
man used. Ammunition and water were collected. Some men used three
rifles, turn and turn about.


With dawn came the lyddite shells from the Navy. Dense rolls of yellow
smoke curled round the hills. Small coloured flags were waved to
indicate our position to the Navy.

The suffering from thirst was terrible. When relief did come, men
crowded round the wells at No. 2 and drank tin after tin of the
precious water.

The Valleys of Torment.

During the nights of August 7, 8, 9, and 10, the wounded men of Anzac
seemed to encompass the sum total of human suffering. Travelling
light to avoid the heat of the day, a badly wounded man who could not
walk had to lie out all through the long cold night. To men without
blankets and tunics, and often without a shirt because of the noonday
heat, those nights were excruciatingly cold. Those who could walk
were in fairly good stead. They could reach the dressing stations
near the beach, and get near the piers when the Red Cross barge came
alongside. So it happened that the least wounded were always ready to
be evacuated; the others had to lie in those stricken gullies until the
few overworked stretcher-bearers could carry them down. The lack of
facilities for evacuating wounded was as pronounced as at the landing.
Of course, in war it must always happen that during big battles things
will go wrong. That seems unavoidable, and conditions generally adjust
themselves after a few days. But to get a parallel to the sufferings at
Anzac one must go back to the days of the Crimea.


  [_Photo by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._


Under the big Union Jack are six bodies; and one under the small flag.
The trawler made a trip every morning out to the three mile limit,
where a solemn burial service was held--the only mourners being the
padre and the seven men of the trawler.]


The Christian Cross and the Mahommedan Crescent--for perhaps the first
time in history--working together in the interests of humanity.]

The Sazli Beit Dere and the Chailak Dere were crowded with walking
cases; those who could not walk, waited in vain for stretcher-bearers,
then born of desperation, crawled, crept, and rolled down the slopes
into the gullies. Here there was a certain amount of protection against
Turkish fire. Ghurkas, New Army men, and New Zealanders painfully crept
towards the low ground. Perhaps the gully would lead too far away from
the direction of No. 2 Post; men at the last stages of exhaustion would
give up here and wait for the stretcher-bearers who could not come,
for they were overwhelmed with cases nearer home. Medical officers,
padres, dentists and stretcher-bearers toiled against one of the most
heartbreaking experiences of the war. Up in these gullies of torment
men died by the hundred--died of thirst, of awful bomb wounds and of

Down near No. 2 Post was an awful sight--a thousand wounded men lying
in rows and in heaps. Crash would come a Turkish shell and the
already wounded would be wounded once again. Mule trains moving up and
down to the Big Sap raised great clouds of fine dust that settled on
everything, increasing the discomfort already caused by wounds, fever,
flies and the alternating heat and cold.

Barges full of mules would pull in to be disembarked. The stretcher
bearers would help with the unloading, and without any cleaning, for
there was no time to worry about the niceties, the serious cases would
be placed on the bottom of the barge and towed out to the hospital ship
or carrier.

When a string of Red Cross barges would come in, the walking cases
would naturally crowd up to the pier in anticipation of getting off;
there was a tendency to leave the helpless man on the beach, but the
medical officers and orderlies watched as well as they were able, and
sent the serious cases to the hospital ships as soon as possible, the
less serious ones going to Lemnos by the hospital carrier.

It is difficult to conceive what clean sheets, soft food, the sight
of the army nurses, and the sound of their English voices, meant to
the tired men of Anzac. Worn to shadows by hardships and suffering,
these men could not understand the present situation. For if their
experiences had been awful, they expected little else. As pioneers in a
desperate enterprise they knew the path would not be strewn with ease
and comfort, but rather with danger and pain--and their expectations
were realized at Anzac; but here on the hospital ships where there were
warm baths, clean underclothing, and the tender ministrations of the
army nurses, the suffering New Zealander was literally overwhelmed with
his good fortune.


The Battle of Kaiajik Aghala.

When Sir Ian Hamilton realized that he could not win through to the
Narrows with the force at his disposal, he cabled to England for
reinforcements. The answer came that no reinforcements could be sent.
Men and all the munitions of war were wanted for the Western Front.
The dominant school of thought was now in favour of a winter base at
Salonika. There was a keen disappointment over the Suvla failure. The
people had been told that we were only two miles from the greatest
victory of the war. And that was true! But what miles? And we were now
not much nearer victory than we had been before the push, for our every
post was dominated by a higher Turkish one.


  [_Lent by Captain Janson, W.M.R._


Officers and men of the Wellington Mounted Rifles going out to Hill 60.]

Sir Ian Hamilton decided to make another effort with a regrouping of
the troops at his disposal.

The only new troops he could call on were the 2nd Mounted Division, a
body of British Yeomanry who had been doing garrison duty in Egypt.
They were composed of young men who had served in the volunteer mounted
service before the war and correspond to our New Zealand regiments of
Mounted Rifles. They totalled about 5000 men, and were organized in
four brigades (the 1st South Midland, the 2nd South Midland, the North
Midland, and the London.)

The 29th Division, who since their desperate landing, had borne the
brunt of the fighting at Cape Helles, were moved from there to stiffen
the New Army division, which were dug in along the Suvla Flats.

By the night of August 20/21, all was ready for the projected attack.
This was to consist of two preliminary movements.

 (1) The 29th Division was to move from Chocolate Hills against
 Scimitar Hill. Everywhere along the line the other units were to take
 the offensive to hold the enemy's reserves in check. The 13th Division
 was to attack at 3.15 p.m. The 34th Brigade was to attack on the plain
 near Hetman Chair. Next to it the 32nd Brigade was to get possession
 of a trench running from Hetman Chair towards "W" Hills.

 (2) The Anzac troops from Damakjelik Bair were to attack Kaiajik
 Aghala (Hill 60) and swing their left round to junction with the Suvla

A reference to the map will show that when these two points--Scimitar
Hill and Kaiajik Aghala--were taken the way would be clear for a
converging combined assault on Ismail Oglu Tepe, the well known "W"
Hills of Anzac. From it in a south-easterly direction ran the long
spur on which--some 2700 yards away--was situated the village of Biyuk
Anafarta. A similar distance away, but to the northeast, lay Kuchuk
Anafarta. The occupation of Ismail Oglu Tepe would not only give us
possession of the valleys running up to both these villages, but would
also give us uninterrupted intercourse between Anzac and Suvla, now
continually under the fire of the guns on "W" Hills. The wells in the
neighbourhood were also valuable to whichever side held them.


"Kuyu" is the Turkish name for well. There were many valuable wells
between Kaiajik Aghala and the sea.]

The Attack on Scimitar Hill.

On the night of August 20/21, the 29th Division assembled at Chocolate
Hills and prepared for the advance on the morrow. All that day they
kept under observation their objective for the morrow--the ill-starred

The preliminary bombardment was very heavy for Gallipoli, but a mist
on the Suvla plain favoured the enemy, interfering with the aim of
our gunners. At 3.15 in the afternoon the 34th Brigade reached their
objective--the trenches on the plain near Hetman Chair; but the 32nd
Brigade lost direction, and instead of taking the communication trench
leading to the "W" Hills, went far north of it and suffered heavy
casualties. The 33rd Brigade went out to retrieve the situation, but
made the same mistake and failed entirely in its object.

Just after 3.30, the 87th Brigade of the 29th Division, taking
advantage of every bush and every fold in the ground, moved steadily
from Chocolate Hill towards the Scimitar. The 1st Royal Inniskilling
Fusiliers stormed the crest and chased the Turks back towards the high
ground leading to Kuchuk Anafarta. But just higher than the first crest
of the Scimitar were other rows of Turkish trenches. From the machine
guns there, from the field guns of "W" Hills, and from Tekke Tepe, came
a storm of lead. The Scimitar was swept with a devastating converging

[Illustration: Officers of the 29th Division in the trenches at Suvla.]

The 86th Brigade was to attack the right of the Scimitar, and
merge with the 87th Brigade for the attack on the crest; but the
badly-directed 32nd and 33rd Brigades of the 13th Division were now
scattered over the ground between Green Hill and the Scimitar. These
troops got mixed with the regulars and threw them into confusion; but
born of long training, led by experienced officers, companies emerged
from the chaos, and pressed on to the Scimitar. Then a great fire broke
out in the undergrowth and little headway could be made.

At five o'clock the Yeomanry were called from the reserve at Lala
Baba. With their hearts in their mouths, the watchers from the Anzac
hills saw the long lines extend in open order and move across the wide
expanse of plain. Right across the dry Salt lake the troopers quickly
marched. The wonder is that so few casualties occurred. They had some
difficulty in pressing through the scattered men of the 13th Division
round the Chocolate Hills; but by 7 o'clock at least one brigade was at
the foot of the Scimitar. Darkness fell as they commenced to work their
way to the crest. The converging fire again swept the crest and they
too suffered the fate of the Inniskillings and had to withdraw after
suffering fearful loss.

Scimitar Hill, which was taken so easily by the 6th East Yorks and so
tragically abandoned on August 8th, cost over 5000 casualties. There
was not an atom of gain, for everywhere the troops fell back to the
original line.

The First Attack on Kaiajik Aghala.

The attack from Anzac met with better fortune. It will be remembered
that the Left Covering Force occupied Damajelik Bair on the morning of
August 7. The 4th Australian Brigade which fell back from Abdel Rahman
had dug in along the southern bank of the headwaters of the Kaiajik


  [_Lent by N.Z. Y.M.C.A_.


This picture shows the Y.M.C.A. marquee in the centre. The road along
the beach, the new wharfs from which the New Zealand brigades embarked
at the evacuation, and the hospitals are plainly shown.]

The line to be attacked was shaped like a boomerang. The operation was
divided into two parts.

 (1) The 29th Indian Brigade of Ghurkas and Sikhs was to seize the
 important wells, principally Kabak Kuyu--the Suvla end of the

 (2) The other force under Brig.-General Russell was to storm Kaiajik
 Aghala, which we knew as Hill 60--this was the elbow and the Anzac end
 of the boomerang.

The troops for (2) were disposed from right to left as follows:--

 (a) The 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, now reduced to about 1,400
 men, had available for the attack about 400 men from the 13th and 14th

 (b) The Canterbury Mounted Rifles were already on the ground, and the
 Otago Mounted Rifles were brought over to reinforce them. To each of
 these regiments a platoon of Maoris was attached.

 (c) Detachments of the 5th Connaught Rangers (10th Div.), the 4th
 South Wales Borderers (13th Div.) and the 10th Hampshires (10th Div.)
 were on the extreme left, where the South Wales Borderers had been
 since August 7 waiting for the joining up of the Suvla forces. The
 Indians, it must be remembered, were also part of the Anzac Army.

The ravine of the Kaiajik Aghala separated the Australians and New
Zealanders from their objective. This ravine gradually broadened out
in front of the New Army troops, and debouched on the wide open plain
around the wells of Kabak Kuyu and Susuk Kuyu.

The line was to be attacked as follows:--

  29th Indian Inf. Brigade.


  Connaughts      Canterbury M.R.  Otago M.R.  13th & 14th
  S.W. Borderers  Maoris           Maoris      Batt. A.I.F.
  Hampshires                                   (about 500 men)

By some strange mischance, the artillery bombardment which was so
liberal at Suvla, overlooked Hill 60 altogether. But at 3.30 the troops
made ready for the advance.

The 13th and 14th Australian Battalions--those veterans of Pope's
and Quinn's, the men who early in August struggled on to the Abdel
Rahman--dashed down the slope. Losing heavily, they raced into the
gully and up the other side. Beaten by Turkish machine gun fire, they
held their ground, but could not get on.

The New Zealand attack had about 800 yards to go. Squadron and troop
leaders spent the day observing the objective and the best lines of
advance. They went back to their men, explained the position and made
clear to everyone that the attack was to be by bayonet only, then
bombs. The formation was to be in lines of successive troops; each
ridge to be taken advantage of as a reforming point for a fresh advance.

There was some wonderment at the lack of artillery fire, but punctually
at 3.30, over the top went the troopers. Down the slope went the
Canterburys and Otagos. Troop after troop dived into the hail of death
and pushed on to the first ridge to collect their scattered fragments.
Each troop made its fifty yard rushes and fell down exhausted. These
men had lived for months on hard rations and were weakened by dysentery
and fatigue. But on they swept again. It was a triumph of resolute
minds over wasted bodies. Reaching the shelter of the gully, they
reformed and commenced the steep ascent. Between the large ridge and
the Turkish trench there was about 100 yards of bullet-swept scrub.
Dozens of the troopers fell never to rise again; the wounded crept into
positions of comparative safety. The Turkish shells set the scrub and
grass on fire, but luckily there was little wind, and the little there
was blew the flames away from our wounded.

By now the Canterburys and Otagos had reached the first enemy trench,
and a bomb fight ensued. Down the communication trench the Turk was
driven. Our men came across an enemy machine gun, which was promptly
turned on to the fugitives. Back came the Turk with a counter attack,
but the troopers stuck like limpets to their hardly-won position.

The position now was: The Indians had seized the well, and were well
round the Suvla flank of Hill 60. The N.Z.M.R. had 150 yards of the
Turkish trenches; but on the right, the 13th and 14th Australians could
not get on. We had a precarious hold that night, as the Connaughts sent
round between us and the Indians were mercilessly bombed back again.

A most dramatic incident occurred when there was a sudden cry of "cease
fire," and from the Turkish trenches on Kaiajik Aghala over 150 Turks
issued with their hands held high in the air. They had rifles with
them, but their movements and demeanour strongly suggested that they
were willing to be taken prisoners. There was no one who could talk
Turkish, so an interpreter was sent for. But before he arrived our men
were out of the trenches trying to carry on a conversation with the
Turks, who seemed perfectly friendly, but could not understand our
words or signs that they must put down their arms and come quietly
away. Suddenly shooting rang out on the right and left. But the O.C.
Otago Mounteds went right out into No Man's Land towards the Turkish
trenches, surrounded by a mob of Turks. He was convinced that we were
about to make one of the biggest hauls of prisoners in the campaign.
The few New Zealanders were hopelessly outnumbered, but still they
tried to indicate by signs and pantomimic gestures that the Turks must
first lay down their arms. By this time firing was brisk in other
parts of the line. Some Turks who came to our trenches reached down
to assist our fellows out, but our men pulled them in and made them
prisoners, very much to their annoyance. The Otago colonel got right to
the enemy's trench, and a Turkish officer tried to pull him in. This
did not seem good enough, so in the grey of the morning the colonel,
a lonely figure, retraced his steps across No Man's Land. Then firing
became general, but not before we had captured a dozen of the enemy.

To this day the senior officers who were on the spot are not certain of
the Turk's intention, but as it was discovered that all the prisoners
and the dead carried many bombs, it is almost certain that they did not
wish to surrender. The most likely story is that a few New Army men
were captured out on the Suvla Flats, and told the enemy intelligence
officers that we were badly shaken and perhaps would surrender. So this
party came down to conduct us into their lines. But instead of finding
a place in the line--if there was one--where men were willing to give
themselves up, they came upon a nest of hornets that stung them very

During the rest of the night, communications were dug from the old
Australian trenches to their new front line on the other side of the
Kaiajik Dere. The New Zealanders in the Kaiajik trenches were not in
touch with the Australians on the right.

The newly arrived battalion of Australian Infantry--the 18th--now came
out from Anzac as reinforcements. This was at 4.30 a.m. Two companies
were taken round by the Kabak well, along an old Turkish road, and
sent to attack the northern flank of the hill. At first they were very
successful, but the bombing tactics of the enemy were too much for
the newly arrived soldiers, who had to evacuate--about 9 a.m. on the
22nd. At 11 a.m. the N.Z.M.R. again took part of those trenches on the
extreme left, and built a sandbag barricade.

The position now was that the front line trench on Hill 60 was held
for about 200 yards by the New Zealand Mounted Rifles. This trench ran
approximately round the 60 metre contour line. We built traverses to
separate us from the enemy, who held the rest of the trench.

This attack had fallen very heavily on the troops engaged. The
Canterburys, Otagos and Maoris had severe losses--the Canterburys
losing 58 per cent. of their effectives, the Otagos 65 per cent. But
we had taken part of the enemy's trench, and that was something--in
fact, the only thing gained in the whole line from the Asma Dere to the
Chocolate Hills.

We set to work on our communication trenches, and the Turks dug and dug
until they made the rest of Kaiajik Aghala into a veritable redoubt.

Second Assault on Kaiajik Aghala.

For the next few days the units in the line carried on an incessant
bomb and rifle duel, but it was decided to make one more effort to win
the coveted hill.

In the reorganization which took place for the second attack, the
disposition was as follows:--

On the right a detachment of the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade (250
men), with 100 men of the 17th Battalion, A.I.F. In the centre, the
four regiments of the N.Z. Mounted Rifles Brigade (300 men), with 100
men of the 18th Battalion, A.I.F. On the left were the 5th Connaught
Rangers, totalling 250 men.

This attack on Contour 60 of Kaiajik Aghala was timed for 5 p.m.,
with an artillery bombardment for an hour prior to that. The gunners
promised 500 H.E. shells over the space of 500 yards square. In our
section of the attack 5 officers and 100 men of the Canterbury Mounteds
were to form the first line, with special bombing parties of 20 men
of the Aucklands supporting the right and left flanks; Wellington and
Otago Mounted Rifles made the second line; the 18th Battalion, A.I.F.
the third line. Bayonets and bombs only were to be used. The Canterbury
men took up their places in the trench at 4.30 p.m. with the other
regiments in the communication trench.

After a bombardment by our artillery, at 5 p.m. our men jumped out
to advance and were immediately under a terribly hot fire from
machine guns and rifles. But they never wavered, and with men falling
everywhere they continued in one long straight line, magnificent in
their courage, on into the first trench where they disappeared for
10 or 15 minutes, amongst a nest of live Turks. Finishing these off,
without more hesitation, they rose again and advanced under the same
withering fire, fewer in numbers, but dauntless in determination, only
to meet a new foe in the enemy's shrapnel.

The casualties were fearful. But still they pressed on to the second
trench, then the third. Men were falling more quickly now. Yet it was
a charge to stir the heart and quicken the blood of a stoic, and so
forlorn it looked against such dreadful odds. The little pink flanking
flags were gradually moving forward as the artillery exploded their
shells just in front of them. It was noticeable that the 4th Australian
Infantry Brigade had not been able to make an advance on the right, and
the troops on our left were making little headway. Our machine guns now
hurried forward to take up a forward position and all hung on to the
ground gained as darkness set in. Wounded, slightly and severely, now
began to pour into the dressing stations.

It then became a bomb duel for the remainder of the night. The trenches
were choked with dead and wounded Turks and our own people, and were so
narrow that no stretchers could be used to send them out.

During the early hours of the morning the 18th Australians continued
to improve and deepen their trenches. Up and down the trenches roamed
the padres of the Mounted Rifles so that they might be near the men.
Chaplain Grant, the beloved padre of the Wellington Mounted Rifles
laboured with a comrade attending to the wounded. He heard a man crying
out in the scrub, so he took the risk and went beyond the barricade
erected to divide our line from the Turks. Bandaging friend and foe,
the two chaplains pushed on, but on rounding a traverse, they came
suddenly on a party of Turks, and Padre Grant was killed instantly.


  [_Photo by Rev. H. L. Blamires, C.F._


This picture was taken about an hour before his death.]

The enemy now began to enfilade with 75m. guns from the east. Their
gunners knew the range to a yard, for these were his own captured
trenches he was shelling. There seemed to be no escaping these terrible
guns; man after man, group after group, was destroyed, but the
survivors held stubbornly on. Up in the salient held by our fellows,
the Turk attacked again and again, but the Mounted Rifles stood to
it. New Zealanders have a tradition that they cannot be shifted out of
reasonable trenches.

The 9th Light Horse, about 200 strong, were placed at General Russell's
disposal and were ordered to come over from Walker's Ridge. They
arrived at 10 o'clock, and an hour later two parties of 50 each, were
taken over to the trenches to help hold our left. They encountered very
strong opposition, and had to fall back again to a barricade, which was
held by them for the rest of the night.

The position was greatly improved during the day, large working parties
being kept going deepening the trenches. The work was much interrupted
by shell fire from Abdel Rahman Bair.


  [_Photo by Rev. H. L. Blamires, C.F._


At 2 p.m. the officers of the 10th Light Horse came over from Walker's
Ridge and were shown the position. A plan was unfolded whereby these
Light Horsemen might attack an essential piece of trench away on the
left. That night the old 10th, our comrades of Walker's Ridge, came
over to Kaiajik, and at 11 o'clock, in the darkness of the night, fell
upon the Turks in the remainder of the trench. This was the climax.
Bomb as the Turk might, he could not shift the Light Horse and Mounted
Rifles. It was here that Thossell of the Light Horse got his V.C. for
holding the barricade against persistent bombing attacks. The top
of Kaiajik Aghala was now partly in our hands. We never gained the
whole of the crest; but what we took on August 21/28 we held till the

Three machine guns and 46 prisoners were taken, as well as three trench
mortars, 300 Turkish rifles, 60,000 rounds of small arm ammunition, and
500 bombs. The estimate of the Turkish losses was given at 5,000, but
this is likely an exaggeration.


Many of the wounded in these two battles for Kaiajik Aghala were
fortunate enough to be taken aboard our own Hospital Ship--the
"Maheno"--which arrived off Anzac on August 26. With what joy did
the soldiers welcome the clean sheets, the hot baths, the thousand
and one comforts and the sight of real New Zealand girls. After the
hand-to-hand struggle at Hill 60, to lie at rest on the "Maheno" and
watch the nurses was like creeping quietly into heaven.


Preparing for the End.

The struggle near Kaiajik Aghala was the last pitched battle on the
Peninsula. After the desperate landings in April; the trench warfare of
May, June and July; the titanic efforts of August--four strenuous and
bloody months--we were forced to admit that at Helles, Anzac and Suvla,
we were still holding only the lower fringes of the Turkish position.
The troops, weakened by continual hardships and malnutrition, were an
easy prey to dysentery and similar ailments. The dressing stations were
also kept busy by men troubled with septic sores. Scratched by the
prickly scrub, or with a meat or jam tin, the wounds were healed with
great difficulty, which was not surprising, as the men were not strong
enough to throw off or resist even the most trifling ailment.


  [_Lent by Lieut Carr, A.M.R._


On the left is the soldiers pack and an empty rum jar; on the right of
the "door" a petrol tin for water.]

Resting at Sarpi.

About the middle of September, taking advantage of the arrival of the
2nd Australian Division, it became possible to relieve the troops
of the two veteran Colonial divisions, excepting the New Zealand
and Australian divisional troops (artillery, engineers, A.S.C. and
ambulance) who went through unrelieved right up to the evacuation.

The N.Z.M.R. Brigade at Cheshire Ridge handed over to some recently
arrived Australians, leaving only a few officers and men as machine
gun crews. The remainder of the brigade--20 officers and 229 other
ranks--were accommodated in one small barge! It was only on occasions
such as this that we could comprehend our losses. The old "Osmanieh"
sailed for Lemnos, and the brigade disembarked at Mudros early on
September 14, and marched by road to Sarpi Camp, about three miles from
the pier. This road connected Mudros with the chief town of the island,
Castro. Tents were scarce, and during the night a torrential rain made
everybody most unhappy. The ground was very soft, but a hot sun made
things more bearable during the day. A few tents were erected for the
Infantry Brigade which was expected during the day.


Chatham's Post to No. 3 Post were the original Anzac boundaries. The
dotted line at Lone Pine, and from the Apex to Jephson's Post indicates
the territory gained in August. The Anzac area went as far as Hill 60.]

The infantry battalions were in the same plight as the mounted
regiments. Although having absorbed the 3rd, 4th, and 5th
Reinforcements, these one-thousand-strong battalions of the landing
were now pathetically weak--the strongest not totalling more than 300
men. Four months of living on monotonous food, of constant hammering at
the Turk, of thirst and danger and fatigue, had left its mark on the
hollow-cheeked, sunken-eyed, but dauntless-spirited soldiers of Anzac.
Arriving at night, the men of the N.Z. Infantry Brigade stumbled along
the dark and dirty highway. Many of the troops slept by the wayside
rather than struggle on and further weaken themselves. As there were
few tents at the camping place, it turned out that the ones who did
struggle on were in no sense rewarded, and to make matters worse, a
real Mediterranean downpour set in. Daily more "Indian pattern" tents
arrived, into which as many as forty men crept at night. Gradually the
number of tents increased, the weather cleared, and the men made an
effort to extract a little pleasure out of life.

Here at least there was no shelling, and the food, in quality and
quantity, surpassed our most sanguine expectations. For the first time
on active service we tasted the luxury of canteens. Even recreational
institutes sprang up. Day by day the men gained strength until they
were colourable imitations of the original arrivals at Anzac. How
genuinely pleased we were to get the many gifts of eatables from New
Zealand, and from good friends in England and Scotland--these good
people can never realize what pickles, strawberry jam, condensed milk,
crisp Edinburgh shortbread, illustrated periodicals, and letters meant
to those war-worn, homesick men.

A gift particularly touching was a large consignment of sweets packed
in tins by the school children of the Dominion. Some of the cases had
evidently been stowed too near the ship's boilers, as, on being opened,
there was discovered a conglomerate mass of molten sugar, tin, and
little notes from the various packers. Weird mixture though it was, the
sweets were most acceptable, and appreciated not only for their value,
but for the kindly solicitude that prompted the service.


 Dressed in white with a red sash, these troops were very vain and like
 all negroes could not keep their hands off the henroost.]


The camp was thrilled when Canadian nurses were discovered on the
island. With their wonderful ways, their delightful accents, and their
cute little naval capes, the memory of those nurses working away in
that hell-hole of Mudros should never be forgotten. On the road from
Anzac, Suvla and Helles; on this dusty, rocky island; surrounded by
that atmosphere of desolation and suffering caused by an aggregation
of wounded and broken men--these girls, with no halfpenny illustrated
paper to print their pictures and sing their praises, slaved away in
the Mudros hospitals and saved the lives of many New Zealanders who
must have perished had it not been for the devotion of the nurses. The
soldiers of New Zealand can never adequately express their thanks for
the magnificent work of those Canadian and Australian women at Lemnos,
and the British, Australian and New Zealand nurses who toiled so
heroically on those awful journeys in the hospital ships from Anzac to
Mudros, Alexandria and Malta.

War has some compensations, after all. One begins to realize that we
are so dependent on our fellows for most of the happiness and joys of
life. Between the sailormen and the Colonials, too, there was a strong
bond of friendship. This became very manifest after the landings, and
further intimate acquaintance strengthened those early ties. The latest
expression of these feelings came from the cruisers and destroyers in
the bay. The crews had a "tarpaulin muster," the result of which was a
present for every man in the division of half a pound of tobacco, at a
time when it was specially acceptable.

Hot Baths at Thermos.

Most welcome news was that, at Thermos, about three miles away, hot
baths could be had. From the day when the baths were built, they could
not have been more crowded. Since leaving Egypt, five months before,
hot baths were unknown, unless one was lucky and sufficiently hurt to
be put aboard a hospital ship. So out to Thermos hurried the men, to
whom a hot bath was a boon beyond price. The little stone building
was below ground level, the inside lined with marble, and with marble
basins full and overflowing in each corner so that the marble floor was
also awash. The procedure was to strip off and with a little dipper
pour the water over oneself. Thermos became the most popular resort on
the island.

In the little villages, too, very good meals could be
obtained--especially those delicious Continental omelettes made only
in countries where eggs, tomatoes and fine herbs are estimated at
their full value. The mild Greek beer was also most palatable. Mixed
with the wine of the country, it made even the listless Anzacs quite
hilarious. The quaint old windmills on the hill, and the church in the
village square, where the gossips gathered together, were reminiscent
of the Old World life made familiar to us in our youth by means of
books and pictures. Indeed, some of these old villages seemed just like
an ancient painting come to life. Flocks of sheep with little bells
on their necks made sweet tinkling music as they wandered to and from
their pasture lands; by the roadside the comely (if rather fat) Greek
women worked in the fields, and winnowed in olden style their crops
of grain and seeds; on the hillside the ancient windmills ground corn
which made a most palatable brown bread; under the spreading tree in
the village square, picturesque old patriarchs, apparently telling the
tales of ancient Greece, were really discussing how much money they
could extract in the shortest time from these open-handed, spendthrift


The Problem of a Mixed Coinage.

The troops certainly had plenty of money to spend, and indulged in
orgies of tinned fish, tinned fruit, and tinned sausages from the naval
canteens, supplemented by melons, grapes, figs and eggs bought from
the villagers. The Mudros shopkeeper made a small fortune out of the
exchange of English money. Generally we had English treasury notes for
one pound and ten shillings. These were over-printed in Turkish, so
that their value might be comprehended in captured villages, but so far
Kuchuk Anafarta and Krithia had resisted our efforts to make them legal

Perhaps the strangest thing of all was the readiness with which
Australian silver was accepted. A few years ago it was not legal tender
in New Zealand, but away up here in the Levant, and all over Egypt, it
was not questioned. The emu and kangaroo signified nothing to these
simple folk, but did not the other side picture King George of England?


  [_Photo by the Author._


A sentry on guard at Mudros. Greeks drawing water with the ubiquitous
kerosene tin.]

The change given for an English pound was enough to make the soldier
join the scientists in praying for the early adoption of a universal
coinage. French Colonials from Senegal and Tunis brought their own
money with them; French territorials contributed francs and centimes to
the medley; Egyptian labourers tendered their piastres and millemes;
Greek, Turkish and Italian money circulated freely; English and
Australian was as good as the best--so, when a man got his change,
the silver would be Australian, the nickels would be endorsed with an
inscription which was Greek in more ways than one, while the coppers
bore on one side a meaningless Arabic scrawl and "Tunis" on the other!

Welcome Reinforcements.

The arrival of the 6th Reinforcements gave a tremendous fillip to the
sadly depleted brigades. To the 20 officers and 200 other ranks of
the N.Z.M.R. Brigade were added a draft of 30 officers and 1060 men of
eager volunteers. The Infantry Brigade was reinforced in a like manner.
The new men were so fresh and fit, rosy-cheeked and cheery. "Just
like a lot of young schoolboys," said an officer. "I never realized
before how different the newcomer was to the sun-dried, war-stained,
weather-beaten Anzac."


  [_Lent by Lieut Carr, A.M.R._


With mixed feelings the units learned that they were to return to
Anzac. This rest at Sarpi had been a great relief. Strengthened by the
fresh blood of the reinforcements, strong in the veteran's knowledge
of warfare, the troops once again embarked. "I'm glad we're going
home," said one boy. Strange what we can get accustomed to call "Home"!
Farewells were exchanged with the nurses, the sailormen and the Greek
ladies gathered round the village pump. Lemnos was once again lost to
view and the pleasant sojourn at Sarpi became only a memory.

The Seething Pot of Balkan Politics.

During the months of midsummer the political situation in Europe gave
the staffs and soldiers of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force
something to think about. We studied the Balkan situation and knew
of the different candidates and parties struggling for dominance in
Greece. The boy from Awarua waited anxiously for the latest election
return from the islands of the Cyclades!

And now the Russian armies on which we had so much depended were
being hurled from line to line by the Austro-Germans. Warsaw and
Brest-Litovsk fell in August; Grodno and Vilna in September. It was
reluctantly admitted that no help could be expected from Russia.

Meanwhile the Greek Premier, Venizelos, who had been returned to
office with an overwhelming majority in June, experienced opposition
from King Constantine. It was understood that the Greeks would always
help the Serbians if attacked by an outside power, but to the disgust
of all true lovers of freedom, the Greeks refused to move. Serbia's
cup of bitterness was filled to overflowing on September 19, when a
powerful Austro-German force struck again at that gallant army which
but a few months before so decisively punished the Austrians. The next
day Bulgaria made public a treaty (secretly signed two months before)
throwing in her lot with Germany, Austria and Turkey!

King Constantine, convinced that Germany must win the war on land,
prevented the Greeks coming to the assistance of their traditional
friends. So it was that Serbia found herself assailed on one side by
the Austro-Germans, and threatened by the Bulgarians on the other.

The French and British wished to help their ally, Serbia, but once
again the old complaint was evident--a shortage of trained available
men. See how this re-acted on the Gallipoli compaign: Sir Ian Hamilton
was asked if he could now spare three Divisions! With the consent of
the French, the 53rd (Welsh) Division, the 10th (Irish) Division from
Suvla, and the 2nd (French) Division from Helles were sent to Salonika.
Thus was the Gallipoli army despoiled to provide troops for the new
venture at Salonika, whence with other allied troops, it was thought
an effort could be made to save Serbia. But once again the allied help
arrived in time only to fight a rearguard action, and Serbia shared the
fate of Belgium.

Salonika absorbed more and more British troops--troops which might have
made all the difference if they had been ready and released a little
earlier for the attacks on Sari Bair. On the Western Front a great
effort was being made to concentrate men, ammunition, and guns, for the
coming great offensive, which culminated in Neuve Chapelle, Loos, and
the French attacks in Champagne.

The British authorities--almost beside themselves with the demands
from the Western Front; troubled by the hesitancy of the Greeks;
dumbfounded by the deceitfulness of the Bulgarians; appalled by the
evident collapse of the Russians; and now faced with the necessity of
providing a force at Salonika, had, in taking three divisions from
the Peninsula, again demonstrated that the Gallipoli campaign did not
have the whole-hearted support of those responsible for its vigorous
prosecution. They had not realized that, perhaps more in war than in
other matters, things done by halves are never done right.


  [_Photo by Col. Falla, C.M.G., D.S.O._


These small donkeys were purchasable in the Ægean Islands at about two
pounds each.]

So it was that while the troops were resting at Sarpi, the fate of the
Gallipoli adventure was being decided elsewhere. All the gallantry,
heroism, and sacrifice of the British, Indian, French and Colonial
troops were to be sacrificed because the Allies, caught unprepared
by the Central Powers, had no well-defined plan of action. Nations
unprepared must always pay the price in flesh and blood.

The Responsibility of Australia and New Zealand.

In this matter the people of New Zealand are not one whit better
than their kinsfolk of the Old Land, of Canada, of South Africa,
of Australia. The people of New Zealand cannot preen themselves in
the knowledge that they were prepared for war. The advocates of
preparedness had been for years voices crying in the wilderness. A
little reasoning here may be of value. For of what use is experience
and history if we do not measure our shortcomings?

Ultimately New Zealand maintained a Division in the Field. At the
end of the war--in that we had twelve, instead of nine battalions of
infantry--we had the strongest division in all the Allied Armies.

Australia maintained five, and always four, divisions in France. Now
the August offensive in Gallipoli took place just one year after
war had been declared between Great Britain and Germany. Yet New
Zealand--because, before the war, the people refused to comprehend the
German challenge for world dominion--could not put into the field more
than two brigades. It was not that the public was not warned, but the
English-speaking peoples will not see that if we must do the world's
work we must use worldly tools. We are men in a world of men, and
despite the visionaries and the dreamers, the last appeal is to force.
This may be regrettable, but unfortunately it is true!

If the Australians could have placed their four magnificent divisions
at Anzac and Suvla; if New Zealand could have loosed a full division at
Chunuk Bair, while the Australians went for Hill 971 and Suvla--there
perhaps would be no talk of "the Gallipoli failure." Admitting that
the New Army divisions were not of a calibre required for desperate
fighting in rough country, they were certainly better from a soldier's
point of view than the excellent material not yet available from
Australia and New Zealand.

General Hamilton is Recalled.

The story of Sir Ian Hamilton's recall is best told in his own words.
After describing the battle for Kaiajik Aghala, he says: "From this
date onwards up to the date of my departure on 17th October, the flow
of munitions and drafts fell away. Sickness, the legacy of a desperate
trying summer, took heavy toll of the survivors of so many arduous
conflicts. No longer was there any question of operations on the grand
scale, but with such troops it was difficult to be downhearted. All
ranks were cheerful; all remained confident that so long as they stuck
to their guns, their country would stick to them, and see them through
the last and greatest of the crusades.

"On the 11th October, Your Lordship cabled asking me for an estimate of
the losses which would be involved in an evacuation of the Peninsula.
On the 12th October I replied in terms showing that such a step was
to me unthinkable. On the 16th October I received a cable recalling
me to London for the reason, as I was informed by Your Lordship on
my arrival, that His Majesty's Government desired a fresh unbiased
opinion, from a responsible commander, upon the question of early


  [_Photo by Captain Wilding, N.Z.F.A._


The reasons for Sir Ian Hamilton's recall were not promulgated to the
men on the Peninsula, but his departure was made known to the troops
through a manly farewell order. The Colonial divisions were very sorry
to see him go. His commanding figure, his charming personality, his
warm and expressed admiration for the "ever-victorious Australians
and New Zealanders" endeared him to the soldiers, who like himself,
were high-spirited, brave, optimistic, and warm-hearted. "Our progress
was constant, and if it was painfully slow--they know the truth." And
knowing the truth we grieved to see him go. We knew that the age of
miracles had passed, and that improvized machines could not stand the
rough tests of war.

General Munro Assumes Control.

The new "responsible Commander" proved to be General Sir Charles
Munro, K.C.B., a soldier of much experience in former wars, and a
fine record of service on the Western Front. Until General Munro's
arrival on the Peninsula at the end of October, General Birdwood acted
as Commander-in-Chief of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force. No
movement was attempted during this period. There seemed nothing to
do but strengthen the line and prepare for the bad weather everyone

General Munro arrived on the Peninsula at the end of October. His duty

 (a) To report on the military situation on the Gallipoli Peninsula.

 (b) To express an opinion whether, on purely military grounds, the
 Peninsula should be evacuated, or whether another attempt should be
 made to carry it.

 (c) The number of troops that would be required--

  (1) To carry the Peninsula.
  (2) To keep the Straits open.
  (3) To take Constantinople.

It was not long before the General was able to report that "the
positions occupied by our troops presented a military situation unique
in history. The mere fringe of the coast line had been secured. The
beaches and piers ... were exposed to registered and observed military
fire; our entrenchments were dominated almost throughout by the Turks.
The possible artillery positions were insufficient and defective. The
force, in short, held a line possessing every possible military defect.
The position was without depth, the communications were insecure
and dependent on the weather." After reviewing the conditions of the
troops--they could not get the necessary rest from shellfire as in
France; they were much enervated from the diseases in that part of
Europe in the summer; through their tremendous losses there was a great
dearth of officers competent to lead--these and other considerations
forced the General to the conclusion that the troops available on the
spot could not achieve or attempt anything decisive.


Ships sunk to make a pier at Kephalos. A close examination of this
large vessel will reveal the deception--she is a merchant steamer
with enough fake super-structure to make her look like a British
dreadnought. Observe her own funnel with the outer imitation funnel
removed. A fleet of these dummy warships often masqueraded in the North
Sea as the British Fleet. ]

On considering the possibilities of an early success by the provision
of reinforcements, he came to the conclusion that "an advance from
the positions we held could not be regarded as a reasonable military
operation to expect;" and "even had we been able to make an advance
on the Peninsula, our position would not have been ameliorated to any
marked degree, and an advance to Constantinople was quite out of the
question." Which brought the General to the point: "Since we could
not hope to achieve any purpose by remaining on the Peninsula, the
appalling cost to the nation involved in consequence of embarking on an
Overseas Expedition with no base available for the rapid transit of
stores, supplies, and personnel, made it [an evacuation] urgent."

It must be remembered that the soldiers were not informed of these
important decisions. It was essential to the plan that absolute secrecy
should be observed, and that the enemy should be led to believe that
an attack might take place at any time. It was now announced that the
Mediterranean Expeditionary Force would consist of two distinct and
separate parts--the "Salonika Army" under Lieut.-General Sir B. Mahon;
and the "Dardanelles Army" under Lieut.-General Sir W. Birdwood.

The Great Blizzard.

With the advent of cooler weather the daily sick parades became
appreciably smaller, but the men of Anzac were to have still another
trial of their endurance and cheerfulness, for on November 27, the
weather turned extremely cold. Next morning the troops awoke to find
everything white with snow. A snowstorm is not a very disagreeable
thing provided one has a comfortable home and clean streets. But at
Anzac everyone lived in a dugout--clay walls, clay floor, and a clay
track up to the door. The mud and slush made all the tracks as sticky
as glue. Locomotion became difficult. Supplies ran short.


  [_Lent by Lieut. Carr, A.M.R._


The blizzard was almost the fiercest enemy encountered on the
Peninsula. We could fight with, and often outwit, the Turk, but against
snow and slush we had very little defence.

The troops were greatly indebted to some enterprising men who
anticipated cold weather, and issued a small supply of whale oil with
instructions how to apply it to the extremities in case of heavy
frosts. This simple precaution prevented a very large number of
frost-bite cases, as far as the New Zealand brigades were concerned. In
comparison with the other troops we were more or less fortunate, as we
occupied the higher ground on the Peninsula, and our trenches drained
themselves down the slopes. But to those who had to go uphill to the
trenches, the task was almost impossible. The deres which were always
used as tracks became miniature rivers of mud, eventually becoming
frozen and covered with snow. The troops will long remember the small
hours of November 28 as they were rudely awakened by the tarpaulin
roofs of their never-too-elaborate dug-outs collapsing on top of them
with the weight of snow. The gale made playthings of the light craft in
the Cove. Barges and launches broke from their moorings and completed
their sphere of usefulness on the beach. The snow-covered hills
presented a wonderful sight. Long icicles hung down from the parapets
in the trenches. Comparatively few of our men suffered from frost bite,
but it was really a very sad and pitiful sight to see long queues of
stretcher bearers carrying the suffering men from the lower slopes.


  [_Photo by Col. Falla, O.M.G., D.S.O._


The poor fellows caught it very badly, especially towards Suvla Bay,
as the trenches became inundated with the rushing waters. Many of
the occupants were drowned. The brigades of the 29th Division held the
trenches into which drained the flood waters from the Kiretch Tepe
Sirt. They suffered severely. The Newfoundland contingent, now attached
as a battalion to one of these famous brigades, almost revelled in the
frost and snow, as might have been expected! The casualties among the
Turks, according to those who surrendered at this period (and there
were quite a few) must have been enormous.


  [_Photo by Capt. Fairchild, N.Z.D.C._


The most popular place after the blizzard broke out was the ordnance
stores, as everyone was in want of extra clothing--and, thank goodness,
it was available. It was amusing to see sentries on duty after their
experience of the first night. It would have needed a very energetic
bullet to penetrate the amount of clothing worn! This is a fair
sample:--Hat, balaclava cap, (two if procurable) waterproof cape,
greatcoat, tunic, cardigan jacket, shirt, two singlets, two pairs of
underpants, trousers, puttees, two pairs of socks, straw or paper
round the feet, and a pair of trench boots! After each tour of duty a
compulsory tot of rum was issued. Fortunately for all concerned perfect
weather set in about December 4.

This blizzard set all thinking. The chief topic of conversation was
"How will we fare, supposing the bitter weather holds out for a couple
of months?" as nothing in the way of stores or provisions could be
landed other than in perfectly fine weather. Units who had sited their
homes near the deres carved out neat villas on higher ground. Hospitals
evacuated their sick as quickly as possible, and men not employed
making high level roads, were busily engaged in making winter dugouts,
well beneath Mother Earth--well beneath advisedly, as about this time
we were almost daily informed that our airmen were locating concrete
emplacements for heavy howitzers. The Turkish prisoners were also kind
enough to say that a large number of heavy guns were being placed in
position to blow us into the Mediterranean, which was understood to be
very cold in winter.

The Visit of Lord Kitchener.

We did not get many callers, so the visit of Lord Kitchener of Khartoum
to the Anzac battlefields started us speculating afresh and making wild
conjectures. His visit, needless to say, was very secret. On landing he
went straight to Russell's Top and right through the trenches on the
Nek. Indians passed by the way were overawed and simply went down on
their knees. Needless to say there were wonderful rumours as to what
he did and said, but it was generally understood that the decision
to evacuate the Peninsula was confirmed there and then. Viewing the
country from the observing station of the 2nd Battery, N.Z.F.A., he
was much impressed by the rough country. His time at Anzac was chiefly
spent at that portion of the line held by the Australians, and it was
impossible to suppress the outburst of enthusiasm when they recognized
Lord Kitchener. The men cheered and he made short speeches, but did not
tarry. Soon he stepped aboard the waiting motor launch and sped away
north to Suvla.

The Hours of Silence.

A mysterious order for forty-eight hours' silence was hailed with
delight by the men. No work was to be attempted, not a shot was to be
fired. It was well to let the Turk believe that we could stay silent if
we wanted to. If he had come on to investigate, our machine guns would
have punished him severely. But he was too wary, and not prepared to
put his head into our noose. He made no move. Perhaps he had a hearty
laugh at our tempting him, so the ruse certainly prepared him for an
occasional silence that might be priceless later on. Presently he
became bolder and put out a good deal of wire. The silent period was
lengthened and eventually ended at midnight of November 27/28, having
lasted seventy-two hours.


The Evacuation.

Even as the military feat of the landing was unparalleled, so the
situation now presenting itself to the staff was unique. Nowhere
in history could be found any precedent. This was not an ordinary
strategical or tactical retreat. With our farthest post about 3,000
yards from the sea; with a No Man's Land in many places only 20 yards
wide; with the opposing trenches held by an unbeaten enemy--we had to
disengage ourselves, march down narrow defiles, and embark from flimsy
piers, each one of which was liable to be heavily shelled during the
operation. This was no time for muddling through. Cool and ingenious
brains propounded plan after plan. The orthodox thing would have been
to attack everywhere but at Anzac and Suvla, and under cover of these
diversions, seek to beat a retreat. But for many reasons this method
did not commend itself. Already indiscreet people in high places had
openly talked of evacuating the Peninsula. The Press of England had
discussed the matter, and the Turk was bound to be suspicious. So it
was decided that the enemy must be deceived as much as possible. A
rumour became persistent that Lord Kitchener, with a great new army,
would land and make one last grand effort on Christmas Day.

Secret instructions were issued to officers that the evacuation would
be accomplished in three distinct phases. First: all surplus men,
supplies, and animals were to be sent away. Secondly: during December
13 and 14, a whole battalion and regiment should go out of each
brigade--this alone would reduce the force by over a fourth. Thirdly:
on the nights of December 19 and 20 there should embark the last
rearguard, specially selected men, in numbers just strong enough to
hold the line.

With the memory of the blizzard and its accompanying wind--the wrecked
piers at Imbros and Anzac were mute evidence of its fury--General
Munro decided to accelerate the evacuation of Anzac and Suvla. On
December 8, General Birdwood was ordered to prepare a detailed plan
for the daring and perilous enterprise. Almost everything depended on
the weather. Unless anything unforseen happened, Rear-Admiral Wemyss
undertook to remove all the troops by the night of Sunday, December 19.

Men who had battled on with complaints, only parading sick for
treatment, now found that if they complained of the most trivial
ailment they were sent away to the hospital ship. It was announced
that only the fittest men were to be kept on the Peninsula during the
winter. Every night saw the outgoing barges crowded to their fullest
capacity; but as it grew light a great show of landing troops would be
made--an effort that was not lost upon the Turks, who erected barbed
wire more vigorously than ever.


  [_Lent by Lieut. Moritzson, M.C., M.M., N.Z.E._


The small trestles prepared by the engineers, ready for the decking.
They were only to be used in case of emergency.]

The evidence gradually became too strong for most men. Parties visiting
the beach found ordnance and supply officers astonishingly openhanded.
Tinned fish, condensed milk, different varieties of jam and other
rarities could be had for the carrying away. Officers' coats, leather
leggings, puttees, and many pairs of boots were appropriated. Men going
back to the front line looked like itinerant hawkers. Toiling up one of
the deres a trooper called to a friend "How's this for evacuation?" A
brigadier overheard the remark and bounced out of his dugout. "Who's
that talking about evacuation? Don't you know there's an order against
using the word? Anyway, there is no evacuation!" The trooper, while
lugubriously examining his assortment of ordnance stores, preserved
a silence so eloquent that even the attendant staff officer had to
turn his face away. "What have you got to say for yourself?" said
the brigadier, who felt that he was losing ground. "Nothing," said
the quiet trooper, "but I never signed for these," and he held up a
pair of gum boots. The brigadier retired before the evidence of such
unparalleled generosity.

The Order to Evacuate.

On December 8 it was decided to withdraw those guns that were not
required for a passive defence. On December 12, 19 guns of varying
calibre, belonging to the N.Z. and A. Division, were embarked. On the
same day it was announced that a Rest Camp had been formed at Imbros
to which units would go in turn during the winter. Some men still
thought it was all a big bluff, but were inclined to be convinced upon
the departure of the 3rd and 10th Australian Light Horse Regiments,
the Auckland Mounted Rifles, the Otago Infantry Battalion, the Maori
Contingent, the 15th Australian Infantry Battalion and other details
from the New Zealand and Australian Division.

But the decision could not be concealed indefinitely, and the following
order was issued on December 16:

 "The Army Corps Commander wishes all ranks of your Division to be now
 informed of the operations that are about to take place, and a message
 conveyed to them from him, to say that he deliberately takes them
 into his confidence, trusting to their discretion and high soldierly
 qualities to carry out a task, the success of which will largely
 depend on their individual efforts.

 If every man makes up his mind that he will leave the trenches quietly
 when his turn comes, and sees that everybody else does the same, and
 that up to that time he will carry on as usual, there will be no
 difficulty of any kind, and the Army Corps Commander relies on the
 good sense and proved trustworthiness of every man of the Corps to
 ensure that this is done.

 In case by any chance we are attacked on either days, the Army Corps
 Commander is confident that the men who have to their credit such
 deeds as the original landing at Anzac, the repulse of the big Turkish
 attack on May 18, the capture of Lone Pine, the Apex and Hill 60,
 will hold their ground with the same valour and steadfastness as
 heretofore, however small in numbers they may be; and he wishes all
 men to understand that it is impossible for the Turk to know or tell
 what our numbers are, even up to the last portion of "C" party on the
 last night, as long as we stand our ground."

Officers who knew the state of affairs were greatly relieved at the
decision, but sick at heart now that the blow had fallen. To give up
Anzac and all that it meant! To leave the place where our brothers and
friends were lying! Out there in No Man's Land graves were marked where
men had fallen, but no cross had been erected, and now the chance was
slipping away. Men crept out at night to pay their last visits to those
lonely graves. One soldier writing home voiced the undisguised emotion
of many:

 "My goodness, Mother, how it did go to our hearts--after all we
 had gone through--how we had slaved and fought--fought and slaved
 again--and then to think that we had been sizzled in the heat,
 tortured by flies and thirst, and later nearly frozen to death. It was
 hard to be told we must give it up. But it was not our wasted energy
 and sweat that really grieved us. In our hearts it was to know we were
 leaving our dead comrades behind. That was what every man had in his
 mind. We thought, too, of you people in New Zealand and what you might
 think of us. Believe me, it is far harder to screw one's courage up
 for running away than it is to screw it up for an attack!"

But now that the decision had been made, everyone worked with a will.
The horses and mules, valuable vehicles and guns were mostly embarked
before the last two nights. The Division withdrew 53 guns in all,
only 12 being left for the last night. The batteries were ordered
to continue firing in "an extraordinary erratic manner" in order
to mystify the enemy. The gunners were busy burying and otherwise
destroying surplus stores. The enemy gunners were very energetic
during the last three days. Round Russell's Top their shells arrived
in myriads, and quite noticeably of better quality. Each battery was
reduced until only one gun remained. The New Zealand gunners were
determined that they would get all their horses away, and every gun.
In order to facilitate an uninterrupted passage for the last night,
resourceful and hard-working artillerymen prepared bridges and cuttings
to get their beloved pieces away. The last gun from Russell's Top had
to cross a perfect maze of communication trenches, but the men refused
to rest until the ten improvized bridges were ready for the eventful

Preparing for the Big Bluff.

Thursday and Friday nights came, and in the darkness, crowded barges
were towed out to the transports lying out to sea. On Friday night
an accident occurred that certainly invited disaster. Great piles of
stores in all the depots were soaked in kerosene and petrol and made
ready for firing just before leaving. By some mischance the heaps at
Anzac Cove burst into flame, lighting up the scene like day--with
the troops waiting on the beach; the picket boats with their loads
puffing in and out; and away out to sea, the waiting transports and
the destroyers, ever vigilant. So light it became that the embarkation
of troops had to be discontinued. Still the Turk made no sign beyond
directing a few shells towards the long tongue of flame. It transpired
afterwards that he was under the impression that the valuable stores
had been set ablaze by his shell-fire!

By day there was little rest. There seemed to be a thousand things to
be done in the short time available. Much material had to be destroyed,
rather than let it fall into the hands of the Turk. Ammunition was
buried or dropped into the sea. Condensed milk that would have been
invaluable earlier in the campaign was destroyed by punching holes in
the tins with bayonets. Jar after jar of rum was smashed. Blankets by
the thousand and piles of clothing were saturated with petrol ready to
be burned. Everything of value to the Turk was made valueless.

[Illustration: "SAFE ROAD TO BEACH."]

At Suvla where there was more room than at Anzac, an inner position
was prepared by the erection of a strong barbed wire fence eight feet
high, with great gates across the roads. At Anzac, barricades were
made in all the principal deres and communication trenches. A final
covering position, manned by machine gunners, was prepared. Its left
flank was on No. 1 Post, and ran by way of Walker's Ridge, across to
Plugge's Plateau and so down Maclagan's Ridge to the sea, very much the
line decided on when the re-embarkation after the April landing was
momentarily considered. Oh! the what-might-have-beens of those eight
tragic months!

There were now only two nights to go, Saturday night and Sunday night.
The 20,000 troops remaining at Anzac and Suvla were to be evacuated at
the rate of 10,000 per night. The numbers from our division were 3491
on the second last night, and the final 3000 on the last night.

The line from Suvla to Chatham's Post was held as follows:

 9th Army Corps--The Suvla front up to and including, Hill 60;

 N.Z. & A. Division--from the right of Hill 60 to the Apex;

 1st and 2nd Australian Divisions--from Walker's Ridge to Chatham's

The Suvla Army embarked from the piers in Suvla Bay and on the Ocean
Beach. The New Zealanders and Australians on the left of Anzac had to
come down the three principal deres to the piers on Ocean Beach. The
Australians from the centre and right of Anzac naturally moved down
Shrapnel Gully and along the beach from the extreme right towards the
piers at Anzac Cove.

The New Zealand Brigades were now disposed as follows:

                                                     RHODODENDRON SPUR
  HILL 60    HILL 100           CHESHIRE RIDGE           THE APEX

         Wellington, Otago         4th Aust.      Canterbury, Wellington
           and Auckland          Inf. Brigade          and Auckland
          Mounted Rifles                           Infantry Battalions

The Mounted Rifles would come down the Aghyl Dere, and the N.Z.
Infantry down the Chailak Dere to the Williams Pier on North Beach.

A divisional rendezvous was formed at No. 2 Post. Here the troops
paraded according to a timetable, and were drafted into groups of
400--the capacity of those big motor lighters that the men had
christened "beetles."

All through the night of that last Saturday at Anzac the little groups
assembled, and were packed into the lighters. By 4.30 a.m. on December
19, the last beetle cleared from the shore leaving the "Diehards" of
the Division, only 3,000 strong, to hold the line against a mighty army.

It was an anxious day, but there was much to do. Men devised all sorts
of mechanism to keep rifles going mechanically after the last party had
left. The favourite method was as follows: It takes a certain amount
of pressure to pull the trigger of a rifle. After many experiments a
device was perfected whereby an empty tin was suspended by a piece of
string to the trigger of a loaded rifle. Another tin full of water, but
with a small hole in it, was placed above the empty one, so that the
water leaked into the bottom one, thus gradually increasing the weight
until it was sufficient to pull the trigger!

Actors at Anzac.

In an endeavour to mystify the Turk observers, the few men left at
Anzac became very energetic. With packs up they marched uphill wherever
the Turk might see them. Like actors impersonating a crowd in a moving
picture studio, these small bodies of men passed ostentatiously
backwards and forwards until they were tired.

Reinforcement drafts always went in reserve for a time after their
arrival, so down in Reserve Gully and Waterfall Gully enthusiastic
parties entertained themselves and mystified the enemy by spreading out
blankets to dry even as the new arrivals did! The innumerable small
fires that smoked incessantly were made to smoke more copiously than
ever, for the Turks must fully understand that the great new army was
now arriving in strength.

Every man ate as much as he could of the tinned goods now so plentiful.
Pennies were tossed freely in the air--"Heads for Constantinople; tails
for Cairo!" Everybody was in great spirits and betrayed no anxiety.
There was little departure from the normal, except that at the Apex
there was heavier shelling than usual.

A, B, and C Parties.

The 3,000 men of the Division still to be withdrawn were divided into
three: A, parties totalling 1,300; B, parties totalling 1,100; and
C, parties totalling 600. All of A and B were to withdraw and embark
as the parties of the preceding night--they came to the divisional
rendezvous and embarked in their groups of 400. It was quickly decided
that if A parties were for Alexandria, B parties must be for the Beach,
and C for Constantinople.

Up the deres, great wire gates had been erected so that if the force
was attacked the gates would be shut down and the garrison left to its
own resource--to fight where it stood and cover the retirement until
2 a.m., and then retire down the ridges to the beach. It would not
be possible to come down the ordinary communication trenches in the
deres, for on the sign of an attack, the great barbed gates were to
be dropped into place in the entanglements and the deres themselves
heavily shelled by the warships. The "last ditchers" were to be
sacrificed for the army. There was no lack of volunteers. Australians
and New Zealanders; New Army men and Yeomanry; men who had been there
since the landing, and men who had recently arrived as reinforcements;
men of Anzac and Suvla alike--vied with each other in the endeavour
to become included in the "Diehards." These men--whether they came
from Midlothian or Yorkshire, Queensland or far Taranaki--were all
volunteers, proud of their race and the Empire, and convinced of their
personal superiority over the seemingly victorious foe. Messages were
left warning the Turk he was on the wrong side, exhorting him to look
after our scattered graves and the unburied dead of No Man's Land, and
promising to return again and punish all the allies of the Germans.

A rear party of the No. 1 Field Ambulance was detailed to look after
the wounded should disaster overtake the rearguard. They were each
equipped with a surgical haversack containing field dressing and
morphia. The dressing stations were left equipped with the necessary
instruments, so that if the Turk did appreciate the situation and come
over in force, the wounded might be tended by our own men. It was
thought that life-boats from the Hospital Ships might be allowed to
approach the shore and take away the serious cases. Luckily there were
no casualties in the division, nor, in fact, in the Army Corps.

[Illustration: WATCHING FOR THE TURK.]

The day was fairly quiet, but at about 11 o'clock in the morning the
kinema actors had so impressed the Turks that much heavy shell was
dropped into the communication trenches leading from the beach, and
into the gullies where the reserves usually bivouacked. Thanks to the
great dugouts constructed for the winter, there were no casualties.

At 4 o'clock that afternoon, the Turkish shelling increased very much
in intensity. Was this a preliminary bombardment before the attack? But
the shelling ceased with the sunset, and everything became normal once

The Last Night.

The sun went down that evening on a wondrously peaceful scene. The
peaks of Samothrace and Imbros were bathed in the glow of a glorious
golden sunset. The sea was unruffled by the faintest breeze. Faint
wisps of clouds floated lazily across the sky, fitfully obscuring the
moon. As soon as it was dark men became very busy.

At ten minutes past six the last gun fired its last shot from Russell's
Top, and its removal to the beach commenced over the temporary
bridges, down through the wider trenches, past much barbed wire
entanglement--over cliff-sides and down Walker's Ridge the proud
gunners triumphantly brought their charge, and before eight o'clock
were safely embarked on their waiting transports.

Two much-worn guns--not New Zealand ones, but attached to our
division--were rendered useless and abandoned. One was a 5-inch
howitzer in Australian Valley, the other a 3-pounder Hotchkiss in the
Aghyl Dere.

All the men were travelling very light. Previous parties had taken the
"Diehards" kits and impedimenta. With a rifle and bayonet and a stock
of hand grenades the men of the rearguards took up their positions in
the front line. Machine guns were carefully looked to. Ammunition was
plentiful. If the Turk did come over he would pay a big price. As one
of the normal smells of Anzac was that of tobacco smoke, men smoked
packet after packet, and pipe upon pipe. Out to sea, the traffic was
quite noticeable to the anxious watchers on the hillside.

A and B Parties Leave.

Soon after dusk the men of the A parties at Anzac and Suvla said
goodbye to their comrades of B and C, marched to their respective
divisional rendezvous, and passed down the sandbag-muffled piers to the
waiting "beetles."

Early on that last night many were confident that the Turk was
completely fooled. If he had wanted to attack he would have attacked
before dark; if he attacked at dawn he would be too late. If he
had known, as some clever people say, that we were leaving, would
it not have been a "tremendous victory" if he had come boldly on
and overwhelmed the "Diehards?" He certainly would have taken no
prisoners--the men of Anzac would have attended to that. But the fact
is: the Turk helped us at the evacuation in the same degree as he
helped us at the landing!

B party commenced to leave at nine o'clock. It was very hard to go.
What might happen to the waiting men of C? However, the barges were
waiting and the timing could not be arranged otherwise. So, with a
"Goodbye, boys! see you in Cairo!" on their lips, but with misgivings
in their hearts, the second last parties left their posts and made for
the rendezvous. By 11.25 all of A and B parties were safely embarked
without a casualty.

Those left moved quickly from place to place, firing their rifles in
order to preserve the "normality" of things. The old trench mortars
coughed spasmodically, and the Turks returned the compliment. Away on
Walker's Ridge several very heavy bursts of firing broke out. Men could
not help questioning themselves. Was Quinn's Post holding out with so
numerically weak a garrison? Quinn's that had cost so much to hold all
those weary months. It was hard to give up Quinn's!

And Lone Pine! Where the glorious men of those veteran battalions made
such a sacrifice for the sake of Anzac--and for the sake of Suvla.
These last men, with their boots muffled in sandbags, crept back and
meditated at Brown's Dip with its rows of silent eloquent graves. The
dead men took Lone Pine from the Turks, the survivors held it against
angry hordes, to-night the rearguard was to hand it quietly back!

The men of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade looked out towards The Farm
and the fatal crest above it, and thought of those boys who in August
went straight for the ridge of Chunuk and doggedly waited for the help
from the left, the help that never came. Here the last New Zealanders
stood fingering their trigger guards--holding the line at the Apex,
only 2,000 yards from the sea. Eight months of incessant striving, a
gain of 2,000 yards of bare clay hillside, a loss of so many valuable

And Hill 60! Where the New Zealand Mounted Rifles had refused to be
worsted when others fell back! Hill 60! Now honeycombed with galleries
hewn out with such an expenditure of blood and sweat. These men of the
C parties could not help feeling that the dead deserved a better fate
than this. Yet what could be done? No men could have achieved more. If
the men of Anzac had failed, they certainly had been faithful failures.

No pains were spared to make everything appear normal. Some men went
round lighting candles in the empty dugouts, others concocted placards
to welcome the Turks. The soldiers bore no malice. "Goodbye Johnnie,
see you soon in the Suez Canal;" and "Remember you didn't push us off,
we simply went," are typical. Others were more amusing if not quite so
polite! Men wandered up and down firing occasional shots, and at 11.30
the message came round to the men in the line that everywhere the plans
were working without a hitch and well up to time. In front of the Apex
and near Hill 60 the Turks were putting out more wire in anticipation
of the big attack on Christmas Day. They evidently interpreted the
shipping off the coast as the prelude to a big attack.

The Last Anxious Moments.

Midnight came and the firing died down as was the normal custom. Slowly
the minutes crept by. One o'clock! Still there was no alarm. Some men
began to feel the tension very keenly. Everybody else was safe. Would
C party get away? At 1.30 the first of the C parties commenced to come
in. At 1.45 the duty machine gun at the Apex fired three shots three
times in rapid succession. This was the signal for all the machine guns
of our infantry brigade to withdraw. With a quarter of the remaining
infantry, the gunners marched down the gullies and joined up with the
other detachments. The organization worked like clockwork. One party
was two minutes early in the Chailak Dere and was halted by its captain
until, to the second, the little party resumed its march and dovetailed
into the long column now winding down the gully towards the muffled

At two o'clock another party left. The men of the last group were now
looking anxiously at their wristlet watches, which had been carefully
synchronized. At about 2.15 each man in the trenches quietly walked
out into the nearest communication trench. There was little time to
lose. The gate in the Chailak Dere was to be closed at 2.25. Here a
staff officer carefully checked the numbers and made sure that all were
accounted for.


  [_Photo by Capt. Wilding, N.Z.F.A._


The New Zealand Mounted Rifles.

Between the 4th Australian Brigade on Cheshire Ridge and the Welsh
Horse at Hill 60, were the New Zealand Mounted Rifles. They had the
farthest to march from the left flank. But officers had stepped it
out and carefully timed the journey from their front line trench to
the pier. With careful timing of watches, they got away their A and B
parties to the minute.

Last of all came the Canterbury Mounted Rifles, who were steadily
sticking to their schedule time of 2 miles per hour. Hand-grenades
were tossed into the sea. The motor barges were quickly crowded. As
the loaded "beetles" moved slowly out from Anzac a deafening roar and
a blinding explosion occurred. Our great mine on the Nek had been
detonated. The Turk trenches instantly burst into flame. Fires broke
out among the piles of stores. The bay seemed crowded with motor barges
and flotillas of trawlers.

Once on the warships the men were hurried below to a meal of hot cocoa,
steaming pea soup, and every delicacy the ships' stores could offer.

By 3.40 a.m. the embarkation was complete. Men could, hardly realize
that the work was accomplished without a terrible disaster. Restraint
was thrown aside. New Zealanders from the Apex and the Lone Pine
rearguard of Australians danced wild measures with the sailors on the
iron decks.

As the ships moved over towards Imbros, Suvla and Anzac burst into
flame. All the stores were afire now and the great tongues of flame
seemed to reach to the very heavens. Right along the line Turkish
rifles and machine guns opened, but caused no casualties, as most of
the bullets plopped harmlessly in the water.

So we said good-bye to Anzac. Next morning the Turk rubbed his eyes and
proclaimed a great victory.

The Evacuation of Helles.

It was thought that we might hold Helles as we hold Gibraltar, but
Mudros was considered an easier base for a naval power. The poor souls
of the 29th Division, after being withdrawn from Suvla, hardly had
time to rest a day at Mudros before they were ordered to return and
hold the line at Helles. They were bitterly disappointed, but were they
not tried and trusted Regulars? The Territorials they relieved went
back to Egypt for a New Year's dinner in peace; the brigades of the
29th went back to the firing line. This perhaps was the greatest test
of the 29th, for the men were sure that the bluff of Anzac and Suvla
could not be repeated. They made ready for a heavy rearguard action to
cover their retirement. During the days of waiting, it rained and blew
until they were perhaps the most miserable men on earth. At least they
should have been--but they were British regular soldiers, and there
was nothing to do but stick it. So the troops who bore the brunt of
the bloodiest landing were to bear the brunt of the evacuation. But a
miracle again happened! The Turk could not make up his mind when we
were going, and he could not make up his mind to attack. On the night
of January 9, the coup came off. There was much heavy shelling of piers
and landing places, but the casualties were infinitesimal, though much
equipment was lost. The enemy was again baulked of his prey!


  [_Lent by Lieut. Lockyer, W.M.R._


Boots dumped on the wharf at Alexandria after the evacuation.]


[_The illustrations in this Chapter are by Col. Findlay, C.B. and
Capt. Douglas Deans of the C.M.R._]

The Return to Anzac.

Three years in succession the valleys of Anzac were flooded with the
crimson poppies of the Aegean Spring. During these three years the New
Zealanders in France and Palestine shared in the vicissitudes and the
dearly-bought victories of the Allied Armies.


While the soldiers were fighting, some of the politicians of England--a
few of whom had been prominent in reducing Army and Navy expenditure
before the war--enquired with great deliberation into the rights and
wrongs of the Gallipoli campaign. Money that would have been better
spent in hand grenades in 1915 was lavishly poured out in trying to
discover who was to blame for this and who should be censured for that.
It may be said with pride that the people of New Zealand--and the
people of Australia, too--did not indulge in recrimination. They knew
that the armies were not to blame, and were content to leave it at that.

While commissions investigated ancient history the triumphant Turks
erected great monuments on the Peninsula--monuments to commemorate the
defeat of the infidels.

       *       *       *       *       *

But the months slipped by, and nearer and nearer crept the forces
enveloping the Central Powers. The Bulgars felt the pressure first.
When they finally broke and fled up the Seres Road, our airmen bombed
them unmercifully. Caught in their mountain passes, they were killed in
thousands by our low-flying planes. So was Bulgaria finally bombed out
of the war by British airmen.

On October 26, 1918, British cavalry and armoured cars entered Aleppo
and cut the Constantinople-Baghdad railway. On October 29, General
Marshall's forces on the Tigris severed the Turkish communications at
Mosul. The Turkish armies were everywhere helpless.

One day at the end of October a little launch with General Townshend
on board slipped out from Chios down near Smyrna, carrying a white
flag. A representative of Vice-Admiral Calthorpe, the British naval
commander in the Aegean, conducted the liberated hero of Kut-el-Amara
and the fully-accredited representatives of the Turkish Government to
Mudros--the Mudros of our rendezvous and of our Rest Camp--where the
Turkish representatives signed the Armistice terms, preparatory to an
unconditional surrender. This was on the evening of October 30. The
Armistice came into effect at noon on the following day.

The end of 1918 saw British and French warships lying off the Golden
Horn and British soldiers on guard at the forts of Chanak and Kilid

Was it not prophesied that one day a New Zealander would sit on London
Bridge and survey the ruins of the metropolis? In the year of grace,
1918, the real modern New Zealanders--with the dust of the desert
still on their faded tunics, complete with their wristlet watches and
folding kodaks--stand on the famous Galata Bridge and snapshot the
imperturbable Turkish boatman who seem but faintly interested in the
doom of the Ottoman Empire. There in their old slouch hats stand the
war-worn troopers--young crusaders who have contributed their full
share to the humbling of those despots who for centuries have been the
curse of Western Europe.


Among the troops to re-occupy Gallipoli were the Canterbury Mounted
Rifles, who, in December, disembarked at Maidos, and with their
comrades of the 7th Australian Light Horse, did not hesitate to sit as
conquerors on the giant guns of Kilid Bahr.

[Illustration: THE TRIUMPH OF ANZAC.

Men of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles sitting on a 14-inch gun at Kilid

Up the valley towards Lone Pine they rode, until they came to the
Turkish victory monument erected on the site of the famous Australian
salient. Then over to Koja Chemen Tepe, to stand in silence where
British soldiers had never stood before. This was the moment of
triumph: this was the prize for which we had striven in 1915, and
now, after all these years, the prize was ours--on the one hand the
great forts and Point Nagara running out into the rushing waters of
the Narrows; on the other side the great panorama of the Aegean
Sea--Samothrace and Imbros in the distance; the Salt Lake and the
fatal plains of Suvla; away South, the forbidding hump of Achi Baba;
and closer in, the Anzac beaches, Russell's Top, the tangled steeps of
Walker's Ridge, The Farm, and the ridge of Chunuk. These men of the
Canterbury Mounted Rifles were the triumphant victors, but slowly
they rode down the winding ways of dry watercourses looking for the
last resting places of brothers and comrades-in-arms. Never a yard but
somebody stopped and silently searched for an identification disc.


Notice the luxuriant growth of thistle in the old trench lines.]


And here on the Nek was the great monument erected by the Turks in
honour of their victory in December, 1915!

Down the Aghyl Dere where the gallant Overton rests under the shade of
the Turkish trees; out to Hill 60 where the white bones lie in heaps;
along to Ari Burnu where the graves are thickly crowded; and so to
Anzac Cove itself. Here, pathetic beyond words, were the skeletons of
old barges and boats--rotting in the smooth white sand once pockmarked
by thousands of hurrying feet; here on the sandy beaches the Turk paid
the men of Anzac the greatest compliment, for they had wired the beach
against another landing! Did not the daredevils say they would come
back? Was it not wise to prepare for possibilities? But the soldiers
who went so quietly away in December, 1915, chose to come another way
as victors.

This is the end of the Gallipoli campaign. The men of New Zealand were
there at the start--here they are as the victors at the end.

       *       *       *       *       *

And now that the struggle is over, now that the great guns of Chanak
are silent, and the hillsides once peopled with busy men are again
given over to the song birds and the wandering Turkish shepherds--what
is the gain to the world? What is the gain to New Zealand?

For assuredly there is some gain? Our eight months struggle--even if
it grievously tried us--undoubtedly weakened the military power of
the Turks. But it did more. It taught the New Zealander many things.
It taught him lessons that stood him in excellent stead on the
battlefields of the world. It taught him to respect his own strength
and capabilities. For before the war we were an untried and insular
people; after Anzac, we were tried and trusted. Before Anzac we had few
standards; after Anzac, we knew that, come what may, if it were humanly
possible--and often when it seemed almost impossible--New Zealanders
would not be found wanting, but would prove irresistible in attack,
steadfast and stubborn in defence--and what more can anyone ask of

Even as in the war we lost our insularity and found our national
spirit, so at Anzac we found our brothers-in-arms, the gallant sons
of Australia; and we did our work together--for if the initial "A"
stands for Australia, New Zealand furnished the very necessary pivotal
consonants. So in the future we must stand together and carry the white
man's burden in these Southern Seas.


The design is carried out with shell-cases. The monument itself was
knocked down by our troops.]

And if Anzac means suffering, a hopeless longing, aching hearts and a
keen sense of loss to many in this land of ours, the gain cannot be
measured--for the miner at Quinn's Post did not sweat at the tunnel
face in the interests of self; the middies of the picket boats and
the men of the trawlers were not working for dividends; the nurses on
those hospital ships did not toil the long nights through for praise
or notoriety; the women who waited so bravely and patiently at home in
hourly dread of the telegraph boy, thought nothing of themselves. One
and all made their willing sacrifices for the common good. And that is
the message of Anzac to the people of New Zealand: Place the interests
of the community before the interests of self, follow in the footsteps
of the early pioneers, and make New Zealand a sweeter place for the
little children.

[Illustration: ANZAC COVE TO-DAY.]

Anzac Cove.

  (_From Leon Gellert's "Songs of a Campaign"_)

  There's a lonely stretch of hillocks:
    There's a beach asleep and drear.
  There's a battered broken fort beside the sea.
    There are sunken trampled graves:
  And a little rotting pier:
    And winding paths that wind unceasingly.

  There's a torn and silent valley:
    There's a tiny rivulet
  With some blood upon the stones beside its mouth
    There are lines of buried bones:
  There's an unpaid waiting debt:
    There's a sound of gentle sobbing in the South.

  January. 1916.

New Zealand Transports of the Main Body.

                                       Port of                                                         Numbers
                        Tons   Knots  Departure                   Units on Board                       Carried
  N.Z.T.  "Maunganui"   7,527   16    Wellington  Headquarters Staff. N.Z E.F.                        38 Officers
  No. 3                                           Headquarters N.Z. Infantry Brigade                 528 Men
                                                  Field Troop N.Z.E.                                 204 Horses
                                                  Wellington Infantry Battalion (West Coast Coy.)
                                                  N.Z. Mounted Field Ambulance
  N.Z.T.  "Tahiti"      7,585   17    Lyttelton   Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regt.                     30 Officers
  No. 4                                           Wellington Mounted Rifles Regt. (1 Squadron)       611 Men
                                                  Canterbury Infantry Battalion (1 Company)          282 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Ruapehu"     7,885   13    Port        Otago Mounted Rifles Regt. (1 Squadron)             31 Officers
  No. 5                                Chalmers   Otago Infantry Battalion (less 2 Companies and     785 Men
                                                    Machine Gun Section)                             244 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Orari"       6,800   12    Wellington  Wellington Mounted Rifles Regt.                     16 Officers
  No. 6                                             (East Coast Squadron and 2 Troops)               269 Men
                                                  Surplus horses from other transports               728 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Limerick"    6,827   13    Wellington  N.Z. Field Artillery Brigade (in part)              21 Officers
  No. 7                                           Wellington Infantry Battalion (No. 7 and 8         495 Men
                                                    Platoons)                                        348 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Star of      6,800   11    Auckland    Auckland Mounted Rifles Regt.                       30 Officers
  No. 8    India"                                 New Zealand Field Ambulance                        652 Men
                                                                                                     395 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Hawkes       7,207   13    Port        Otago Mounted Rifles Regt. (less 1 Squadron)        40 Officers
  No. 9    Bay"                        Chalmers   Otago Infantry Battalion (2 Companies and          930 Men
                                                    Machine Gun Section)                             569 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Arawa"       9,372   12    Wellington  Wellington Infantry Battalion (less West Coast      59 Officers
  No. 10                                            Coy. and 7 and 8 Platoons)                     1,259 Men
                                                  Wellington Mounted Rifles Regt. (less 2 troops)    215 Horses
                                                  Field Artillery Brigade (in part)
                                                  Signal Troop N.Z.E.
  N.Z.T.  "Athenic"    12,234   12    Lyttelton   Headquarters Mounted Rifles Brigade                 54 Officers
  No. 11                                          Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regt. (2 Squadrons)    1,259 Men
                                                  Canterbury Infantry Battalion (less 1 Company)     339 Horses
  N.Z.T.  "Waimana"    10,389   14    Auckland    Auckland Mounted Rifles Regiment                    61 Officers
  No. 12                                          Auckland Infantry Battalion                      1,400 Men
                                                  N.Z. Signal Company                                496 Horses
                                                  N.Z. Divisional Train

In addition to the units mentioned each transport carried the usual
details--Naval Transport Officer, Medical Officers, Chaplains, etc.
N.Z.T. No. 1 (s.s. "Moeraki") and N.Z.T. No. 2 (s.s. "Monowai") took
the Samoan Force in August, 1914.

Transports Carrying the New Zealand and Australian Division from
Alexandria to Gallipoli, April 1915.

  Name of         O.C. Troops.             Adjutant

  "ACHAIA"        Major H. Hart            Lieut. A. J. Cross
                  Wellington Battalion     Wellington Battalion

  Units on Board  Wellington Infantry Battalion (2 Companies)
  "ITONUS"        Lt.-Col. W. G. Malone    Capt. M. McDonnell
                  Wellington Battalion     Wellington Battalion

  Units on Board  Wellington Infantry Battalion (less 2 Companies)
                  Canterbury Infantry Battalion (2 Companies) ?]
  "KATUNA"        Major F. Symon           Capt. Clyde McGilp
                  R.N.Z.A.                 N.Z.F.A.

  Units on Board  Headquarters Field Artillery Brigade
                  1st Battery N.Z.F.A.
  "LUTZOW"        Lt.-Col. A. Plugge       Capt. A. G. B. Price
                  Auckland Battalion       Auckland Battalion

  Units on Board  Divisional Headquarters Auckland Infantry Battalion
                  Divisional Signal Company (Headquarters and No. 1 Section)
                  Canterbury Battalion (less 2 Companies)
  "GOSLAR"        Major F. Fergusson       Capt. F. Waite
                  Royal Engineers          N.Z.E.

  Units on Board  Headquarters Divisional Engineers. N.Z. Engineers
                  No. 1 Field Company New Zealand Engineers
                  Headquarters New Zealand Infantry Brigade
                  No. 1 Field Ambulance, New Zealand Medical Corps
                  Headquarters No. 2 Company Divisional Train and Details,
                  Divisional Signal Company (Brigade Section)
  "ANNABERG"      Lt.-Col. A. Moore        Lieut. J. S. Reid
                  Otago Battalion          Otago Battalion

  Units on Board  Otago Infantry Battalion
  "HAIDAR PASHA"  Lt.-Col. Pope            Capt. R. T. McDonald
                  16th Battalion           16th Battalion

  Units on Board  16th Battalion Australian Infantry
                    (Headquarters and 3 Companies)
  "SEEANGBEE"     Major H. R. Carter       Capt. C. P. Corsor
                  15th Battalion           15th Battalion

  Units on Board  13th Battalion Australian Infantry (1 Company)
                  15th Battalion Australian Infantry (2 Companies)
                  16th Battalion Australian Infantry (1 Company)
  "AUSTRALIND"    Lt.-Col Cannan           Capt. W. C. Willis
                  15th Battalion           15th Battalion

  Units on Board  4th New Zealand Howitzer Battery and Ammunition Column
                  15th Battalion Australian Infantry (less 2 Companies)
  "SEEANGCHUN"    Lt.-Col. R. E. Courtney  Capt. C. M. H Dare
                  14th Battalion           14th Battalion

  Units on Board  Headquarters 4th Australian Infantry Brigade
                  14th Battalion Australian Infantry
  "CALIFORNIAN"   Major I. T. Standish     Lieut. C. Carrington
                  R.N.Z.A.                 N.Z.F.A.

  Units on Board  3rd Battery New Zealand Field Artillery
                  Ammunition Column, New Zealand Field Artillery Brigade
                  4th Australian Field Ambulance
  "ASCOT"         Lt.-Col. G. J. Burnage   Capt. J. H. A. Durrant
                  13th Battalion           13th Battalion

  Units on Board  13th Battalion Australian Infantry
                    (Headquarters and 3 Companies)
                  4th Australian Company Divisional Train
                    (Headquarters and Supply Section)
  "SURADA"        Major F. B. Sykes        Lieut. V. Rogers
                  Royal Artillery          R.N.Z.A.

  Units on Board  2nd Battery New Zealand Field Artillery
                  No. 2 Brigade Ammunition Column

Establishment of Main Body, N.Z.E.F.

                                               | Expeditionary Force
                                               | Main Body, sailed
                  Units.                       | October 16th, 1914.
                                               |           | Other   |
                                               | Officers. | Ranks.  | Total.
  HEADQUARTERS STAFF                           |        16 |      68 |     84
                                               |           |         |
  NEW ZEALAND MOUNTED RIFLES BRIGADE--         |           |         |
      Headquarters                             |         6 |      28 |     34
      The Auckland Mounted Rifles Regiment     |        26 |     523 |    549
      The Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regiment   |        26 |     523 |    549
      The Wellington Mounted Rifles Regiment   |        26 |     523 |    549
      Field Troop, N.Z.E.                      |         3 |      74 |     77
      New Zealand Signal Troop, N.Z.E.         |         1 |      32 |     33
      New Zealand Mounted Field Ambulance      |         8 |      70 |     78
                                               |           |         |
  NEW ZEALAND INFANTRY BRIGADE--               |           |         |
      Headquarters                             |         4 |      18 |     22
      The Auckland Battalion                   |        33 |      977|  1,010
      The Canterbury Battalion                 |        33 |      977|  1,010
      The Otago Battalion                      |        33 |      977|  1,010
      The Wellington Battalion                 |        33 |      977|  1,010
                                               |           |         |
  DIVISIONAL TROOPS--                          |           |         |
      The Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment        |        26 |     523 |    549
                                               |           |         |
    _Divisional Artillery_--                   |           |         |
      1st Field Artillery Brigade--            |           |         |
      Headquarters                             |         5 |      38 |     43
      No. 1 Field Battery                      |         5 |     141 |    146
      No. 2 Field Battery                      |         5 |     141 |    146
      No. 3 Field Battery                      |         5 |     141 |    146
      No. 1 Brigade Ammunition Column          |         3 |     131 |    134
                                               |           |         |
    _Divisional Signal Service_--              |           |         |
      New Zealand Signal Company (3 Sections)  |         4 |     109 |    113
                                               |           |         |
    _Divisional Transport and Supply Units_--  |           |         |
      Divisional Train--                       |           |         |
       No. 1 (Divisional Headquarters) Company |         5 |      90 |     95
       Army Service Corps (attached to units)  |         4 |     125 |    129
                                               |           |         |
    _Divisional Medical Units_--               |           |         |
      New Zealand Field Ambulance No. 1        |        13 |     182 |    195
      Dental Surgeons (unattached)             |        10 |         |     10
                                               |           |         |
  SERVICES AND DEPARTMENTS--                   |           |         |
      Veterinary Surgeons (unattached)         |         3 |         |      3
      General Base Depot                       |         1 |       4 |      5
      Army Pay Department                      |         1 |       5 |      6
      Chaplains                                |        13 |      13 |     26
                    Total                      |       351 |   7,410 |  7,761

               New Units Raised during Gallipoli Campaign.

                 Additional Units Formed in New Zealand.
          Unit.                | Date of      |Officers.|Other  |  Total.
                               | Despatch.    |         |Ranks. |
DIVISIONAL TROOPS--            |              |         |       |
  _Divisional Artillery_--     |              |         |       |
    2nd Field Artillery        |              |         |       |
    Brigade--                  |              |         |       |
      Headquarters             |12 June, 1915 |      1  |    38 |      39
      No. 4 (Howitzer)         |              |         |       |
        Battery                |14 Dec., 1914 |      5  |   141 |     146
      No. 5 Field Battery      |17 April, 1915|      5  |   141 |     146
      No. 6 (Howitzer) Battery |12 June, 1915 |      5  |   141 |     146
      (B) Howitzer Battery     |              |         |       |
        Ammunition Column      |              |         |       |
        (for No.6 (Howitzer)   |              |         |       |
        Battery)               |12 June, 1915 |      1  |    40 |      41
                               |              |         |       |
  _Divisional Engineers_--     |              |         |       |
    No. 2 Field Company, N.Z.E.|17 April, 1915|      6  |   211 |     217
  _Divisional Transport &      |              |         |       |
    Supply Units_--            |              |         |       |
      Divisional Train--       |              |         |       |
        No. 4 Company          |17 April, 1915|      5  |    80 |      85
                               |              |         |       |
  _Divisional Medical          |              |         |       |
     Units_--                  |              |         |       |
        New Zealand Field      |              |         |       |
        Ambulance No. 2        |     ...      |     10  |   182 |     192
                               |              |         |       |
  SERVICES AND                 |              |         |       |
     DEPARTMENTS--             |              |         |       |
      No. 1 Stationary Hospital| 21 May, 1915 |      8  |    86 |      94
      No. 2 Stationary Hospital|12 June, 1915 |      8  |    86 |      94
      2 Mobile Veterinary      |              |         |       |
        Sections               |14 Dec., 1914 |      2  |    26 |      28
      2 Veterinary Sections    |14 Dec., 1914 |      4  |   226 |     230
                               |              |         |       |
       Total Additional Units  |              +---------+-------+----------
         formed in New Zealand |              |     60  |  1398 |    1458

Additional Units Formed by N.Z.E.F. (Egypt).

                                 |   Date of    |         | Other |
            Unit                 |  Formation   | Officers| Ranks |  Total.
  DIVISIONAL TROOPS--            |              |         |       |
    _Divisional Artillery_--     |              |         |       |
      2nd Field Artillery        |              |         |       |
        Brigade--                |              |         |       |
          Divisional Ammunition  |}            {|         |       |
            Column               |}            {|       5 |   233 |    238
        (A)Howitzer Battery      |}            {|         |       |
           Ammunition Column     |}            {|       1 |    40 |     41
        No. 2 Brigade Ammunition |}            {|         |       |
          Column                 |}            {|       1 |    46 |     47
        No. 3 Brigade Ammunition |}            {|       1 |    46 |
          Column                 |}            {|       3 |    66 |     69
    _Divisional Engineers_--     |}            {|         |       |
      Headquarters               |} Feb., 1915 {|       2 |    11 |     13
      No. I Field Company, N.Z.E.|}            {|       6 |   211 |    217
    _Divisional Train_--         |}            {|         |       |
      No. 2 (New Zealand Infantry|}            {|         |       |
        Brigade) Company         |}            {|       5 |    80 |     85
      No. 3 (New Zealand Mounted |}            {|         |       |
         Rifles Brigade) Company |}            {|       5 |    80 |     85
           Total                 |              +---------+-------+----------
  TOTAL                          |              |      28 |   767 |    795
  Main Body                                     |     351 |  7410 |   7761
  Units raised during Gallipoli Campaign        |      88 |  2165 |   2253
  TOTAL (This does not include reinforcements.) |     439 |  9575 |  10014

[Illustration: The Staff and Senior Officers of the New Zealand and
Australian Division.

Reproduced from a faded photograph taken in Egypt, 1914. Those marked
with a Star are now deceased.

 _Top Row from Left._--*Capt. C. H. J. Brown; Hon. Capt. W. T. Beck;
 Capt. J. W. Hutchen; Major J. A. Luxford; Lieut. Kettle; Lieut. J.
 Anderson; *Lieut. J. M. Richmond; Capt. H. M. Edwards; Capt. N. W. B.
 B. Thorns; *Lieut. C. M. Cazelet; Capt. C. H. Jess, A.I.F.; Capt. R.
 E. Coningham; Capt. W. P. Farr, A.I.F.; Lieut. Tahu Rhodes; Major J.
 G. Hughes, D.S.O.

 _Second Row._--*Lt.-Col. C. E. Thomas, V.D.; Lt.-Col. N. C. Hamilton;
 *Lt. Col. R. E. Courtney, V.D., A.I.F.; Lt.-Col. Hon. J. L. Beeston,
 V.D., A.I.F.; Major H. G. Reid, A.S.C.; Capt. W. S. Berry, A.I.F.;
 *Capt. G. A. King; Major C. G. Powles; Major A. C. Temperley; Major C.
 Shawe; Major G. R. Pridham, R.E.; Major E. M. Williams. A.I.F.; Capt.
 J. E. Hindhaugh, A.I.F.

 _Third Row._--Lt.-Col. P. C. Fenwick; Lt.-Col. H. Pope, A.I.F.;
 Lt.-Col. J. H. Cannan, A.I.F.; Lt.-Col. H. J. Burnage, A.I-F.;
 Lt.-Col. J. Findlay; *Lt.-Col. W. Meldrum; Lt.-Col. C. E. R. Mackesy;
 Lt.-Col. J. B. Meredith, A.I.F.; *Lt.-Col. F. M. Rowell, A.I.F.;
 Lt.-Col. R. T. Sutherland, A.I.F; Lt.-Col. R. M. Stodart, A.I.F.;
 Lt.-Col. G. N. Johnston, R.A.; *Lt.-Col. A. Moore, D.S.O.; *Lt.-Col.
 A. Bauchop, C.M.G.; *Lt.-Col. C. M. Begg; *Lt.-Col. W. G. Malone;
 *Lt.-Col. D. McB. Stewart.

 _Sitting._--Lt.-Col. J. P. McGlinn, V.D., A.I.F.; *Col. N. Manders,
 R.A.M.C.; Lt.-Col. W. G. Braithwaite, D.S.O; Brig.-General A. H.
 Russell, A.D.C.; Col. E. W. C. Chaytor, T.D.; Major-General Sir Alex.
 Godley, K.C.M.G., C.B.; Col. H. G. Chauvel, C.M.G., A.I.F.; Col. J.
 Monash, V.D., A.I.F.; *Lt. Col. F. E. Johnston; Lt.-Col. J. J. Esson;
 Lt.-Col. A. R. Young.]

The Men of Anzac.

Although this volume deals specifically with the doings of the New
Zealanders at Anzac, the Colonials who were there quite recognize that
they played only a part in the Great Game. They fully appreciate the
magnificent work of the Navy and of their French and British comrades
who braved the same dangers, and worked together against the common foe.

The Men of Anzac know that a war correspondent cannot be in three
places at once. What he sees he describes, and what he does not see he
obviously must collect information about, and cannot do justice to. So
perhaps the glory of the Anzac landing was magnified at the expense
of the men who landed at Helles. Australians and New Zealanders alike
agree that the Helles landing called for a greater show of discipline
and self-sacrifice than was needed at Anzac--for Anzac was a surprise
landing, Helles was not. But considerations of space, and the fact that
volumes have already appeared dealing with the work of our British,
French and Indian comrades, precludes full justice being done to their
work in these pages.

In our own army there are two groups of soldiers that have to a certain
extent been overlooked.

Even in the Colonial Armies we depended for light and a certain amount
of leading on British Regular Officers--officers loaned before the
war to the Colonial Forces,--and it is right that mention should be
made of them here. For what in the days of its infancy would the
N.Z. Expeditionary Force have been without the services of Colonel
Braithwaite--"Dear Old Bill"--Colonel Johnston of the Gunners;
Colonel Pridham of the R.E's; Major Temperley of the Infantry Brigade
Staff, and a dozen others? They contributed much more than has been
acknowledged to the initial successes of our New Zealand Army.

Of the second group it is difficult to write. It may have been noticed
that most of the soldiers mentioned in this volume are men who were
killed in action. There is perhaps more in this than meets the eye.
For the men killed in action and the mortally wounded are those who
put the fear of death into the Turk--men who by their impetuosity and
their eagerness to close really established the Anzac front line.
This meant personal leadership and absolute contempt for death. These
men were often not officers--often they were privates, but natural
leaders nevertheless. They were not necessarily university men or large
employers of labour--sometimes they were miners and taxi-drivers--they
were of the glorious democracy of the Front Line. Anyone, whatever his
rank or social standing, could have demonstrated his claim to be a
leader of men at Anzac.

We know that the list of decorations does not recognize all the gallant
deeds performed on the field of action; and those left alive in the
following list of soldiers decorated would be the first to admit that
they knew of men long since killed who deserved greater reward. Think
of a few of them: Lieut.-Colonel Stewart, of the Canterburys, who died
on the day of the landing fighting for Walker's Ridge; Lieut.-Colonel
Malone who died on the crest of Chunuk; Lieut.-Colonel Bauchop,
mortally wounded in the advance that smashed the Turkish line; Major
Statham, impetuous leader of men who died in the forefront of the
battle--each of these admittedly heroic souls passed away without
receiving a decoration.

And these officers were only worthy of the men in the ranks--men who
if they had lived, might have become great and famous soldiers, but
who sacrificed themselves thus early in the struggle so that we who
survived might carry on: Sergt. Wallace, one of our most promising
Rhodes Scholars, who came straight from Oxford to a soldier's death
while sapping out in front of Pope's; and the well-beloved Arthur
Carbines, who, disregarding the terrors and the dangers on the crest
of Chunuk, died so tragically endeavouring to rescue the body of his
Colonel, the gallant Malone--these men are typical of the scores who
received the small wooden cross which is the only distinction that the
gallant thruster is likely to receive; and some do not have even a
wooden cross, but die so far forward that they are buried by the Turks
in nameless graves and to these is the greatest honour!

New Zealanders decorated and mentioned in despatches.


 Corporal Cyril Royston Guyton Bassett, N.Z. Divisional Signal Company:

 "For most conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty on the Chunuk
 Bair ridge in the Gallipoli Peninsula on the 7th August, 1915.

 After the New Zealand Infantry Brigade had attacked and established
 itself on the ridge, Corporal Bassett, in full daylight and under a
 continuous and heavy fire succeeded in laying a telephone-line from
 the old position to the new one on Chunuk Bair. He had subsequently
 been brought to notice for further excellent and most gallant work
 connected with the repair of telephone-lines by day and night under
 heavy fire."

 _London Gazette_, 15th October, 1915.

[Illustration: CORPORAL C. R. G. BASSETT, V.C.

(Now Lieutenant Bassett, V.C.)]


 Major-General (temp. Lieutenant-General) Sir A. J. Godley, K.C.M.G.,
 General Officer Commanding, N.Z. Expeditionary Force.


 Colonel (temp. Brigadier-General) Sir A. H. Russell, General Officer
 Commanding, N.Z. Division.


 Colonel E. W. Chaytor, N.Z. Staff Corps, New Zealand Expeditionary
 Force (Staff).

 Lieutenant-Colonel J. Findlay, Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regiment.

 Major (temp. Brigadier-General) F. E. Johnston, N.Z. Infantry Brigade
 (The Prince of Wales's Own, North Staffordshire Regiment).


 Lieutenant-Colonel W. M. Alderman, Auckland Infantry Battalion
 (Commonwealth Military Forces).

 Lieutenant-Colonel C. M. Begg, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant-Colonel (temp. Brigadier-General) W. G. Braithwaite,
 D.S.O., Headquarters, N.Z. Expeditionary Force (Royal Welsh Fusiliers).

 Lieutenant-Colonel A. B. Charters, Otago Infantry Battalion.


  [_Photo by Bartlett & Andrew._


(Royal Welsh Fusiliers)]

 Major (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) J. J. Esson, Staff Headquarters N.Z.
 Expeditionary Force.

 Lieutenant-Colonel P. C. Fenwick, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant-Colonel J. G. Hughes, D.S.O., Canterbury Battalion (N.Z.
 Staff Corps).

 Reverend J. A. Luxford, Chaplain, 3rd Class, N.Z. Chaplains Department.

 Lieutenant-Colonel W. Meldrum, D.S.O., Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Lieutenant-Colonel W. H. Parkes, M.D., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant-Colonel A. Plugge, Auckland Battalion.

 Major (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) G. S. Richardson, N.Z. Mediterranean
 Expeditionary Force, (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Lieutenant-Colonel F. Symon, N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z.

 Lieutenant-Colonel R. Young, Auckland Battalion.


 Major H. E. Avery, No. 1 Company Divisional Train (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Honorary Captain W. T. Beck, N.Z. Ordnance Corps (attached N.Z. Staff

 Major C. H. J. Brown, Canterbury Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Captain A. C. B. Critchey-Salmonson, Canterbury Battalion (Royal
 Munster Fusiliers).

 Major N. S. Falla, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Captain B. S. Finn, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant-Colonel R. R. Grigor, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 Major N. C. Hamilton, N.Z. Army Service Corps (Army Service Corps).

 Major Herbert Hart, Wellington Battalion.

 Major N. F. Hastings, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Major H. C. Hurst, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Major G. A. King, Headquarters N.Z.M.R, Brigade (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Major Eugene Joseph O'Neill, F.R.C.S., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Captain (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) C. G. Powles, Headquarters, N.Z.M.R.
 Brigade (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Major G. S. Smith, Otago Battalion.

 Major I. T. Standish, N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z. Artillery).

 Major (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) F. B. Sykes, N.Z. Field Artillery
 (Royal Artillery)

 Major W. McG. Turnbull, Otago Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Major Fred Waite, N.Z. Engineers.

 Major R. Wyman, Auckland Mounted Rifles Regiment.

 Major R. Young, Wellington Battalion.


 Captain L. G. D. Acland, N.Z. Army Service Corps.

 Lieutenant W. G. A. Bishop, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Captain D. B. Blair, Canterbury Mounted Rifles, (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Lieutenant G. R. Blackett, Canterbury Mounted Rifle Regiment.

 2nd Lieutenant R. T. R. P. Butler, N.Z. Engineers (Royal Engineers).

 Captain G. E. Daniell, N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z. Artillery)

 Reverend P. Dore, Chaplain, 4th Class, N.Z. Chaplains Department.

 Captain T. R. Eastwood, Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary Force
 (The Rifle Brigade, Prince Consort's Own).

 Captain T. Farr, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 A. Greene, Chaplain, 4th Class (Salvation Army), N.Z. Chaplains

 Captain R. N. Guthrie, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Captain P. B. Henderson, Canterbury Infantry Regiment (N.Z. Staff

 Captain G. H. Holland, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 2nd Lieutenant R. McPherson, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Lieutenant A. N. Oakey, N.Z. Engineers.

 8/1048 Sergt.-Major A. W. Porteous, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Captain J. M. Richmond, N.Z. Field Artillery (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Captain J. M. Rose, Wellington Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Captain L. M. Shera, N.Z. Engineers.

 2nd Lieutenant W. H. Stainton, N.Z. Maori Contingent.

 Captain H. Stewart, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Captain N. W. B. B. Thoms, Headquarters N.Z. and A. Division (N.Z.
 Staff Corps).

 Lieutenant F. K. Turnbull, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant F. M. Twistleton, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 Captain J. A. Wallingford, Auckland Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff

 Captain F. A. Wood, Auckland Mounted Rifles (N.Z. Staff Corps).


 4/85a Sergeant A. W. Abbey, N.Z. Engineers.

 13/5 Trooper L. J. Armstrong, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 6/884 Sergeant A. A. Atkins, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 10/1731 Private C. R. Barker, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 6/194 Private H. Barlow, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 10/274 Corporal P. H. G. Bennett, Wellington Infantry Battalion

 8/1370 Acting Sergeant-Major P. C. Boate, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 9/129 Sergeant J. Campbell, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 3/317 Private J. F. Cardno, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 4/363 Sapper A. L. Caselberg, Signal Troop, N.Z. Engineers.

 2/83 Driver N. Clark, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 3/158 Private J. Comrie, N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 13/606 Private L. Crawford-Watson, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 4/506 Sapper B. L. Dignan, Divisional Signal Company, N.Z. Engineers.

 2/444 Acting Sergeant C. J. K. Edwards, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 4/188a Lance-Corporal F. J. H. Fear, N.Z. Engineers.

 6/227 Private A. J. Findlay, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 12/1627 Sergeant J. H. Francis, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 8/465 Quartermaster-Sergeant L. S. L. L. Graham, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 7/516 Corporal G. G. Harper, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 7/517 Sergeant R. P. Harper, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 8/872 Sergeant A. G. Henderson, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 3/168 Private W. J. Henry, N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 2/147 Acting Sergeant J. F. Hill, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 4/203a Sapper E. A. Hodges, N.Z. Engineers.

 2/115 Bombardier D. C. Inglis, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 14/43 Sergeant F. Jenkins, N.Z. Divisional Train.

 9/1316 Sergeant J. Little, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 10/2228 Private F. Mahoney, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 8/33 Sergeant F. Mitchell, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 3/269 Sergeant-Major F. W. Moor, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 8/1302 Private R. C. McLeod, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 7/764 Trooper D. J. O'Connor, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 10/1307 Private F. O. O'Connor, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 16/407 Private Tau Paranihi, Maori Contingent.

 7/583 Trooper H. Pidgeon, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 2/1252 Gunner J. Rankin, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 12/1015 Corporal W. J. Reid, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 6/1129 Corporal H. Rhind, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 11/442 Sergeant-Major W. Ricketts, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 6/978 Sergeant W. J. Rodger, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 4/208a Corporal C. W. Salmon, N.Z. Engineers.

 4/60a Corporal C. W. Saunders, N.Z. Engineers.

 6/1399 Sapper E. G. Scrimshaw, N.Z. Engineers.

 3/95 Lance-Corporal W. Singleton, N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 8/1837 Lance-Corporal H. D. Skinner, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 12/1799 Corporal H. Spencer, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 3/447 Lance-Corporal G. Steedman, N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 6/1156 Private T. Stockdill, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 10/1674 Private J. W. Swan, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 6/157 Sergeant B. N. Tavender, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 12/1062 Private G. A. Tempany, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 2/146 Bombardier J. P. Thomson, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 12/472 Sergeant R. Tilsley, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 12/1020 Corporal F. W. Watson, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 4/450 Sapper K. T. Watson, N.Z. Engineers.

 6/741 Private C. M. Wilson, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 14/76 Lance-Corporal J. Wimms, N.Z. Divisional Train.

 11/941 Trooper J. H. Winter, Wellington Mounted Rifles.


[A] Mentioned twice. [B] Mentioned three times.

 4/85a 2nd Corporal A. W. Abbey, D.C.M., N.Z. Engineers.

 [A]Captain L. G. D. Acland, M.C., Divisional Train, N.Z. Army Service

 4/513 Sergeant G. D. Alexander, N.Z. Engineers.

 13/64 Sergeant F. Allsopp, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 13/5 Trooper L. J. Armstrong, D.C.M., Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 10/1731 Private C. R. Barker, D.C.M., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lance-Corporal P. G. Barratt, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lieut.-Colonel A. Bauchop, C.M.G., Otago Mounted Rifles.

 Captain W. T. Beck, D.S.O., N.Z. Army Ordnance Corps (attached N.Z.
 Staff Corps).

 Lieut.-Colonel C. M. Begg, C.M.G., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 3/233 Lance-Corporal T. Biggar, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieut. W. G. A. Bishop, M.C., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Lieut. G. R. Blackett, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Captain D. B. Blair, M.C., Canterbury Mounted Rifles (N.Z. Staff

 8/1370 Sergt.-Major P. C. Boate, D.C.M., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 7/311 Trooper J. M. Boocock, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 [B]Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Braithwaite, C.M.G., D.S.O. (Royal Welsh

 Major (temp. Lieut.-Colonel) C. H. J. Brown, D.S.O., Canterbury
 Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 2nd Lieutenant R. T. R. P. Butler, M.C., N.Z. Engineers (Royal

 9/129 Sergeant J. Campbell, D.C.M., Otago Mounted Rifles.

 10/706 Private A. V. Carbines, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 8/911 Sapper S. Carlyon, N.Z. Engineers.

 13/535 Trooper N. D. Champney, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 Major F. Chapman, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 Lieut.-Colonel A. B. Charters, C.M.G., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Colonel E. W. C. Chaytor, C.B., N.Z. Staff Corps.

 2/83 Fitter N. Clark, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 3/158 Private J. Comrie, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 Lieutenant A. E. Conway, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Captain C. F. D. Cook, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 11/520 Corporal F. R. Corrie, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Lieutenant J. G. Cowan, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Major E. P. Cox, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 13/606 Private L. Crawford-Watson, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 Captain A. C. B. Critchley-Salmonson, D.S.O., Canterbury Infantry
 Battalion (Royal Munster Fusiliers).

 10/729 Private C. Crone, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major W. H. Cunningham, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Captain G. E. Daniell, M.C., N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z.

 12/1185 Private D. Davidson, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Major T. H. Dawson, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 4/506 Sapper B. L. Dignan, D.C.M., N.Z. Engineers.

 Rev. P. Dore, M.C., Chaplain, 4th Class, N.Z. Chaplains' Department.

 10/966 Corporal A. G. Duncan, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 3/144 Private A. F. D. East, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Captain T. R. Eastwood, M.C., Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary
 Force (Rifle Brigade, Prince Consort's Own).

 Captain H. M. Edwards, N.Z. Engineers (Royal Engineers).

 7/800 Trooper J. Edwards, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Major J. McG. Elmslie, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Major (temp. Lieut.-Colonel) J. J. Esson, C.M.G.

 Major N. S. Falla, D.S.O., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Captain T. Farr, M.C., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Major F. A. Ferguson, N.Z. Engineers (Royal Engineers).

 [A]6/227 Private A. J. Findlay, D.C.M., Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Lieut.-Colonel J. Findlay, C.B., Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Captain B. S. Finn, D.S.O., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieut.-Colonel N. Fitzherbert, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 7/441 Sergeant R. A. Fleming, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 2nd Lieutenant E. N. Gabites, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant L. J. Gibbs, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 6/234 Sergeant D. D. Gill, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Major-General (temp. Lieut.-General) Sir A. J. Godley, K.C.B.,
 K.C.M.G., General Officer Commanding N.Z. Expeditionary Force.

 2nd Lieutenant T. M. P. Grace, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 9/465 Sergeant-Major L. S. L. L. Graham, D.C.M., Otago Mounted Rifles.

 Major S. A. Grant, Auckland Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Rev. W. Grant, Chaplain, 3rd Class, N.Z. Chaplains' Department.

 A. Greene, Chaplain, 4th Class (Salvation Army), M.C., N.Z. Chaplains'

 7/340 Sergeant A. R. Greenwood, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 3/251 Private J. Greenwood, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Major R. R. Grigor, D.S.O., Otago Mounted Rifles.

 Captain R. N. Guthrie, M.C., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant W. Haeata, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 2nd Lieutenant C. St. C. Hamilton, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Lieut.-Colonel N. C. Hamilton, D.S.O., N.Z. Army Service Corps (Army
 Service Corps).

 7/516 Corporal G. G. Harper, D.C.M., Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 7/517 Sergeant R. P. Harper, D.C.M., Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Captain E. S. Harston, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major H. Hart, D.S.O., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major N. F. Hastings, D.S.O., Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Major W. H. Hastings, Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary Force
 (92nd Punjabis, Indian Army).

 Captain B. S. Hay, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 10/723 Private H. E. Hayden, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant C. Hayter, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 3/170 Private W. Heaver, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Captain P. B. Henderson, M.C., Headquarters N.Z. Mounted Rifles Brigade
 (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 8/1504 Private W. J. Henry, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 2/147 Sergeant J. Hill, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 4537a Sergeant P. Hill, N.Z. Maori Contingent,

 Captain F. L. Hindley, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Major (temp. Lieut.-Colonel) J. G. Hughes, C.M.G., D.S.O., Canterbury
 Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 Major E J. Hulbert, N.Z. Engineers.

 Major H. C. Hurst, D.S.O., Canterbury Mounted Rifles Regiment.

 Major G. F. Hutton, Canterbury Mounted Rifles (Royal Welsh Fusiliers).

 2/115 Bombardier D. Inglis, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 Captain W. Janson, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 7/128 Trooper D. Jenkins, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 10/824 Company Sergt.-Major A. Johnson, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Major (temp. Brigadier-General) G. N. Johnston, N.Z. Field Artillery
 (Royal Artillery).

 10/392 Private S. Johnston, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 3/180 Private H. W. Keesing, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Captain V. A. Kelsall, Wellington Mounted Rifles. Captain G. A. King,
 D.S.O., Headquarters N.Z. Mounted Rifles Brigade (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 2nd Lieut. J. B. Le Mottée, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Captain R. Logan, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Rev. J. A. Luxford, Chaplain, 3rd Class, C.M.G., N.Z. Chaplains'

 10/2228 Private F. Mahoney, D.C.M., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Malone, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Colonel N. Manders, N.Z. Medical Corps (Royal Army Medical Corps).

 12/1710 Private C. J. Maroni, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 9/445 Sergeant-Major V. Marshall, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 13/272 Trooper A. Mason, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 Lieutenant-Colonel W. Meldrum, C.M.G., Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 8/33 Sergeant F. Mitchell, D.C.M., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 3/269 Warrant-Officer F. W. Moor, D.C.M., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Lieutenant-Colonel A. Moore, D.S.O., Otago Infantry Battalion (Royal
 Dublin Fusiliers).

 Captain K. McCormick, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Reverend A. Macdonald, Chaplain, 4th Class, N.Z. Chaplains Department.

 Major C. McGilp, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 2nd Lieutenant E. J. McGregor, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 Temp. 2nd Lieutenant R. McPherson, M.C., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 10/1109 Private J. Neale, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major C. R. Neale, N.Z. Veterinary Corps.

 4/655 Sergeant S. Neels, N.Z. Engineers.

 Lieutenant M. G. R. Newbold, N.Z. Engineers.

 Major C. N. Newman, N.Z. Field Artillery.

 4/115 Sergeant H. W. Newman, N.Z. Engineers.

 Lieutenant T. H. Nisbet, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 12/606 Private E. L. Noakes, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant A. N. Oakey, M.C., N.Z. Engineers.

 [A]Major E. J. O'Neill, D.S.O., M.B., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 Major P. J. Overton, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 2nd Lieutenant W. T. Palmer, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 16/407 Corporal Tau Paranihi, D.C.M., N.Z. Maori Contingent.

 Lieutenant-Colonel W. R. Pearless, N.Z. Medical Corps.

 4/827 Sergeant A. G. Picken, N.Z. Engineers.

 Major W. R. Pinwill, Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary Force
 (Liverpool Regiment).

 [A]Lieutenant-Colonel A. Plugge, C.M.G., Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 8/1048 Sergeant-Major A. W. Porteous, M.C., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Captain C. Guy Powles, D.S.O., Headquarters, N.Z.M.R. Brigade (N.Z.
 Staff Corps).

 Lieutenant A. H. Preston, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant-Colonel G. R. Pridham, N.Z. Engineers (Royal Engineers).

 7/108 Sergeant F. L. Rees, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 Major H. G. Reid, N.Z. Army Service Corps (Army Service Corps).

 10/778 Private J. R. Reid, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant A. T. G. Rhodes, Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary
 Force (Grenadier Guards).

 Major (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) G. S. Richardson, C.M.G., Headquarters
 Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary Force (N.Z. Staff Corps), attached Royal
 Naval Division (Staff).

 Captain J. M. Richmond, M.C., N.Z. Field Artillery (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 11/442 Sergeant W. Ricketts, D.C.M., Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 13/438 Trooper R. R. E. Rollett, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 11/736 Sergeant B. Ronaldson, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Captain J. M. Rose, M.C., Wellington Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff

 [A]Colonel (temp. Brigadier-General) Sir A. H. Russell, K.C.M.G.

 4/208a Corporal C. W. Salmon, D.C.M., N.Z. Engineers.

 4/60a Corporal C. W. Saunders, D.C.M., N.Z. Engineers.

 6/1399a Sapper E. G. Scrimshaw, D.C.M., N.Z. Engineers.

 Captain L. M. Shera, M.C. N.Z. Engineers.

 Captain A. V. Short, N. Z. Medical Corps.

 9/343 Corporal A. Simon, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 3/95 Lance-Corporal W. Singleton, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Ambulance.

 8/1837 Lance-Corporal H. D. Skinner, D.C.M., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Major G. S. Smith, D.S.O., Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Captain R. B. Smythe, Headquarters N.Z. and A. Division (N.Z. Staff

 12/1799 Sergeant H. Spencer, D.C.M., Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 Major I. T. Standish, D.S.O., N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z.

 Lieutenant W. H. Stainton, M.C., N.Z. Maori Contingent.

 Major F. H. Statham, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 3/447 Lance-Corporal G. Steedman, D.C.M., N.Z. Medical Corps.

 13/237 Trooper K. M. Stevens, Auckland Mounted Rifles.

 Captain H. Stewart, M.C., Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant-Colonel D. McB. Stewart, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 6/1156 Private T. Stockdill, D.C.M., Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant J. K. D. Strang, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 6/770 Lance-Corporal W. H. Studley, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 10/1674 Corporal J. W. Swan, D.C.M., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major (temp. Lieutenant-Colonel) F. B. Sykes, D.S.O., N.Z. Field
 Artillery (Royal Artillery).

 Lieutenant-Colonel F. Symon, C.M.G., N.Z. Field Artillery (Royal N.Z.

 6/157 Lance-Corporal B. N. Tavender, D.C.M., Canterbury Infantry

 Lieutenant G. N. Taylor, Canterbury Mounted Rifles.

 23/1213 Private G. A. Tempany, D.C.M., Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 Major A. C. Temperley, Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary Force
 (Norfolk Regiment).

 Captain N. W. B. B. Thoms, M.C., Headquarters Staff, N.Z. Expeditionary
 Force (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 6/1131 Private A. Thomson, Canterbury Infantry Battalion.

 2/146 Bombardier J. P. Thomson, D.C.M., N.Z. Field Artillery.

 8/494 Corporal T. A. Timpany, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 9/91 Trooper A. K. Topi, Otago Mounted Rifles.

 12/267 Bugler D. B. Treacher, Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 Lieutenant F. K. Turnbull, M.C., Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Major W. McG. Turnbull, D.S.O., Otago Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff

 Lieutenant F. M. Twistleton, M.C., Otago Mounted Rifles.

 16/161 Company Sergeant-Major H. R. Vercoe, N.Z. Maori Contingent.

 [A]Major F. Waite, D.S.O., N.Z. Engineers.

 Lieutenant W. H. Walker, N.Z. Maori Contingent.

 4/72a Sergeant A. Wallace, N.Z. Engineers.

 Captain J. A. Wallingford, Auckland Infantry Battalion (N.Z. Staff

 12/1020 Corporal F. W. Watson, D.C.M., Auckland Infantry Battalion.

 [A]Major J. H. Whyte, D.C.M., Wellington Mounted Rifles (N.Z. Staff

 11/654 Sergeant J. W. Wilder, Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Lieutenant G. L. Wilson, Otago Infantry Battalion.

 Captain E. R. Wilson, Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 14/76 Lance-Corporal J. Wimms, D.C.M., N.Z. Divisional Train.

 11/941 Trooper J. H. Winter, D.C.M., Wellington Mounted Rifles.

 Captain F. A. Wood, M.C., Auckland Mounted Rifles (N.Z. Staff Corps).

 [A]Lieutenant-Colonel R. Young, C.M.G., D.S.O., Wellington Infantry

The Place-Names of Anzac.

Some unfortunate tracts of country are destined from their situations
to be the battlegrounds of the world. Old world names, before this war
but the memory of former campaigns, have once again become household
words. So Mons and St. Quentin, Kantara and Damascus, have become
familiar to the boys of the present generation, for have not their
elder brothers been on police picket in the back streets of every one
of them?

But war sometimes chances to descend on poor, unsettled and otherwise
unimportant territory. Such a place was Anzac--rough and hungry clay
hillsides, no habitations in its area except the lonely Fishermen's Hut
near the mouth of the Sazli Beit Dere, and a poor shepherd's hut at
the foot of Monash Gully. Into this desolate country, with only a few
ridges and watercourses important enough to be marked on the map, came
legions of foreign soldiers who peopled every scrubby ridge and winding

The necessity for place-names became very pressing. Retaining such of
the native ones as were shown on the maps, a multitude of Australian
and New Zealand names appeared spontaneously at Anzac, just as the
English and French names appeared at Helles.

Difficulties often arose. An Australian unit holding a part of the
line had local names for every place within the sector, whereas a New
Zealand unit taking over manufactured or evolved names quite different.
The preparation of a trench map or operation orders written by the
Staff fixed the name for all time. Place-names like "The Sphinx" are
evidence of this.

Ismail Oglu Tepe with its wavy crestline, naturally became the "W"
Hills of Anzac. From Walker's Ridge the description point--"W"
Hills--never failed to be recognized.

Most places in Anzac are named after men or units. This is natural.
But sometimes accidents crept in here, too. For instance, an attack of
measles made what might have been "Johnston's Ridge," into "Walker's

The word "Anzac" arrived in quite a different way. "Anzac" obviously
suggested itself. But numerous stories are current as to its origin,
and doubtless many of the stories are correct. Statements on this
subject have been made by the two most important Generals connected
with the campaign, and their claims may easily be reconciled.

 1. In the "Anzac Book" General Birdwood stated that when he took over
 the command of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps in Egypt, he
 was asked to select a telegraphic code address for his Army Corps, and
 adopted the word "Anzac." Later on, after the landing, he was asked by
 General Headquarters to suggest a name for the beach, and in reply he
 christened it "Anzac Cove."

 2. General Ian Hamilton wrote in his preface to "Crusading at Anzac,
 A.D. 1915," by Signaller Ellis Silas: "As the man who first, seeking
 to save himself trouble, omitted the five full stops and brazenly
 coined the word "Anzac," I am glad to write a line or two in preface
 to sketches which may help to give currency to that token throughout
 the realms of glory."

In compiling this list of place-names and their origins, the aim has
been to set down only those names that were generally accepted and used
at Anzac. Official trench maps, operation orders, books, pamphlets, and
captured Turkish maps have been searched and verified. I am greatly
indebted to the work of my friend Sapper Moore-Jones in his unrivalled
"Sketches Made at Anzac." Besides being works of art, these sketches
are particularly valuable as showing in faithful detail the land
features of the Anzac area, with many of the place-names in use during
the operations.

It is not necessary to burden this volume with a complete Turkish
dictionary, but the following words, with their equivalents in English,
may be found of value:--

  Bair     Spur
  Biyuk    Large
  Burnu    Cape
  Chair    Meadow
  Dagh     Mountain
  Dere     Valley with stream
  Kale     Fort
  Kuchuk   Small
  Kuyu     Well
  Ova      Plain
  Sirt     A Summit
  Tepe     Hill
  Tekke    Shrine

 Abdel Rahman Bair.--The great northern spur of the Sari Bair

 Anafarta.--(1) The Turkish name for the Suvla front.

 (2) There are two villages inland from Suvla Bay called Biyuk Anafarta
 and Kuchuk Anafarta.

 (3) A long-range gun firing from the hills was called "Anafarta Annie."

 Anzac.--Formed from the initial letters of Australian and New
 Zealand Army Corps. First used (written A. and N.Z.A.C.) in Egypt,
 when the Army Corps was formed. It soon became A.N.Z.A.C., and the new
 word was so obvious that the full stops were omitted.

 Anzac Cove.--The little bay where the principal landing was
 made on April 25, 1915.

 The Apex.--High up on Rhododendron Spur, and the furthest point
 inland retained by the Anzac forces after the attack on Chunuk Bair.
 An earlier name, little used, was "The Mustard Plaster."

 Ari Burnu.--The northern horn of Anzac Cove. The Turk called
 the Anzac area the Ari Burnu front.

 Asma Dere.--One of the upper reaches of the Azmak Dere,
 starting in the foothills of the Abdel Rahman Bair.

 Azmak Dere.--A watercourse leading from Biyuk Anafarta, running
 to the south of Ismail Oglu Tepe and debouching on to the Suvla flats.
 There is another Azmak flowing into the north of the Salt Lake at

 Australian Valley.--One of the northern branches of the Aghyl
 Dere, named after the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade.

 Baby 700.--A Turkish position between The Nek and Battleship

 Battleship Hill.--High ground within the Turkish lines between
 Baby 700 and Chunuk Bair. Turkish reserves sheltered behind it, and
 were frequently shelled by the warships.

 Bauchop's Hill.--A hill between the Aghyl Dere and the Chailak
 Dere. Named after the gallant colonel of the Otago Mounted Rifles, who
 was mortally wounded here on August 8.

 Beach Road, The.--The road running along the sea beach from Ari
 Burnu toward No. 2 Post.

 Bedford Ridge.--A ridge opposite Cheshire Ridge on which were
 situated our three isolated posts: Newbury's Post, the southern one;
 Franklin Post, the central one; Warwick Castle, the northern one.

 Blamey's Meadow.--Overlooked by Tasmania Post. Named after
 Major Blamey, an Intelligence Officer who carried out extensive
 reconnaissances in Turkish territory towards Maidos.

 Blockhouse, The.--A Turkish position opposite the Apex. This
 blockhouse was built after the Turks swept us off Chunuk Bair in

 Bloody Angle.--The gully between Dead Man's Ridge and Quinn's
 Post. The 4th Australian Brigade and the battalions of the Royal Naval
 Division suffered heavy losses here on the night of May 2/3.

Bolton's Hill.--Named after Colonel Bolton, 8th A. I. Battalion.
On the extreme right flank; part of the front line of the Australian

Biyuk Anafarta.--See Anafarta.

Braund's Hill.--A hill behind the centre of the Australian line
on the right, and overlooking Shrapnel Valley. Named after Colonel
Braund, of the 2nd Australian Infantry Battalion. Colonel Braund was a
member for Armidale in the New South Wales Parliament, and was killed
soon after the landing.

Broadway.--The wide sunken road leading from the top of Walker's
Ridge round the back of the firing line on Russell's Top.

Bridges' Road.--A road leading to the right from Shrapnel Valley
towards Wire Gully. Named in memory of General Bridges, the Australian
Divisional Commander, who was mortally wounded in Shrapnel Valley.

Brighton Beach.--The long stretch of beach running southwards
from Hell Spit towards Gaba Tepe. Brighton is the well-known watering
place near Melbourne, named after the English seaside resort.

Brown's Dip.--A depression just behind the Australian trenches
opposite Lone Pine, where the Turkish and Australian dead were buried
after the struggle for Lone Pine. The lower part of Brown's Dip was
known as Victoria Gully.

Bully Beef Gully.--A gully running up from the centre of Anzac
Cove past Army Corps Headquarters. As stores on the beach would be
threatened by rough weather, beef and biscuits were stacked in this

Bully Beef Track.--A communication trench running from the right
of Russell's Top to the head of Monash Gully.

Bully Cut.--A deep communication trench cut to enable troops to
avoid a much-sniped section of the Aghyl Dere.

Camel's Hump.--A Turkish position just below Snipers' Nest.

Canterbury Gully.--A small gully between Plugge's Plateau and
Shrapnel Valley, where the Canterbury Infantry Battalion rested when in
reserve from Quinn's Post. Often shown on the map as Rest Gully.

Canterbury Slope.--On the slopes of Rhododendron Spur.

Canterbury Knob.--A famous machine gun position on the right
flank of the Apex position and overlooking the head waters of the Sazli
Beit Dere. Known to machine gunners as Preston's Top after the gallant
Lieut. Preston (killed in France) who first placed machine guns there
on August 7.

Canterbury Ridge.--A name given to Rhododendron Spur during the
early days of August. The Canterbury Infantry occupied this ground on
the morning of August 7.

Chailak Dere.--A narrow valley falling down from Chunuk Bair,
past the north side of Table Top and between Bauchop's Hill and "Old
No. 3 Post."

Chatham's Post.--The southern limit of the Anzac line. Named
after Lieut. Chatham, of the 5th Australian Light Horse.

Chessboard, The.--A criss-cross network of Turkish trenches
opposite Pope's Hill and Russell's Top.

Cheshire Ridge.--A ridge between the upper reaches of the
Chailak Dere and the southern fork of the Aghyl Dere. Named after the
8th Cheshires who were in the 40th Brigade of the 13th Division. Its
respective parts were known as Upper and Lower Cheshire. Durrant's Post
was in the centre.

Chocolate Hills.--A range of hills inland from Suvla Bay, south
of the Salt Lake. These hills were brownish red, and later swept with
fire. One part was covered with scrub and, not being burnt, was known
as Green Hill.

 Chunuk Bair.--A ridge about 860 feet high on the Sari Bair,
 below Hill Q, and above Rhododendron Spur.

 Clarke Valley.--Between Victoria Gully and Shell Green. Colonel
 Clarke had the 12th Australian Infantry Battalion.

 Cornfield, The.--A small patch of cultivated ground on the
 right flank just above Shell Green.

 Courtney's Post.--One of the three famous posts at head of
 Monash Gully. Lieut.-Colonel R. E. Courtney, of the 14th Australian
 Infantry Battalion, was in command here in May. He died at Melbourne
 on October 22, 1919.

 Daisy Patch, The.--A piece of old meadow at Cape Helles.

 Damakjelik Bair.--On the left of the Anzac line; the objective
 of the Left Covering Force on August 6.

 Dawkins' Point.--On Brighton Beach, about 600 yards south of
 Hell Spit. Named after an officer of the Australian Engineers.

 Dead Man's Ridge.--A much-contested Turkish salient running in
 between Pope's Hill and Quinn's Post. So called because of the bodies
 of New Zealanders, Australians, and men of the Royal Naval Division
 which lay there from May 2/3 until the Armistice.

 Destroyer Hill.--A small hill overlooking the Sazli Beit Dere
 and midway between Rhododendron Spur and No. 1 Post. Often heavily
 shelled by the torpedo destroyers.

 Durrant's Post.--A post on Cheshire Ridge. Major Durrant was an
 officer in the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade.

 Farm, The.--A hotly contested corner of the Chunuk Bair
 battlefields. Just underneath the ridge of Chunuk Bair. It eventually
 remained in the hands of the Turk.

 Fishermen's Hut.--A rude hut or huts near the coast, at the
 foot of the Sazli Beit Dere.

 Gaba Tepe.--A headland about a mile and a quarter south of the
 Anzac right flank. The Anzac landing was originally known as the Gaba
 Tepe landing. Most of the earlier gazetted decorations were prefaced
 "in the neighbourhood of Gaba Tepe," which really means Anzac.

 Gillespie Hill.--A part of Hill 60. On the left of the Anzac
 theatre. Named after Lieut.-Colonel Gillespie, of the South Wales

 Hampshire Lane.--A communication trench leading from the Aghyl
 Dere towards Sandbag Ridge.

 Happy Valley.--The valley just north of Walker's Ridge, and
 immediately below Turk's Point. In the spring the lower reaches were a
 mass of flowering shrubs, beautiful grasses, and fragrant wild thyme.

 Hay Valley.--A southern arm of the Aghyl Dere; branching to
 the left it was known as Stafford Gully, and to the right, Hotchkiss
 Gully. Captain Bruce Hay, N.Z.S.C., was killed while leading a
 squadron of the Otago Mounted Rifles in the attack on Bauchop's Hill.

 Hell Spit.--The southern horn of Anzac Cove. Jutting out into
 the sea, it was a convenient mark for the Turkish gunner of the Olive
 Groves and Gaba Tepe.

 Hill Q.--Sometimes known as Nameless Peak. Midway between the
 heights of Hill 971 and Chunuk Bair. About 280 feet.

 Hill 60.--The height in metres of the hill known as Kaiajik
 Aghala, near which was the important well Kabak Kuyu.

 Hill 100.--High ground between the Asma Dere and the head of
 the Kaiajak Dere; held by the Otago Mounted Rifles at the evacuation.

 Hill 112.--Ismail Oglu Tepe, which see.

 Hill 971.--The most important tactical feature on Gallipoli
 Peninsula. The highest Peak of the Sari Bair range, 971 feet high.
 Known to the Turk as Koja Chemen Tepe, and shown on the later maps as
 Hill 305, from its height in metres.

 Hotchkiss Gully.--See Hay Valley.

 Howitzer Gully.--The northernmost gully running up towards
 Plugge's Plateau from Anzac Cove. Here the 4.5 Howitzer Battery, under
 Major Falla, made its welcome appearance the morning after the Anzac

 Hughes Gully.--Part of the Sazli Beit Dere running to the north
 opposite Destroyer Hill, towards the front of Table Top. Lt.-Col. J.
 G. Hughes, C.M.G., D.S.O., was in command of the Canterbury Battalion
 during the August offensive.

 Ismail Oglu Tepe.--See "W" Hills.

 Johnston's Jolly.--A Turkish position between Lone Pine and
 German officers' trench. Named after Colonel G. J. Johnston, Brigadier
 of the 2nd Australian Artillery Brigade.

 Koja Chemen Tepe.--See Hill 971.

 Koja Dere.--A Turkish village two miles due east of Lone Pine.
 Here were concentrated a large proportion of the enemy's reserves.
 Koja Dere (sometimes spelt Kurija Dere) was the site of the Turkish
 Army Headquarters in the southern sector of the Ari Burnu front.

 Kaiajik Aghala.--See Hill 60.

 Kuchuk Anafarta.--See Anafarta.

 Kabak Kuyu.--A valuable well in the neighbourhood of Hill 60.

 Kur Dere.--A valley between Chunuk Bair Hill Q, on the enemy's
 side of the watershed. Mentioned as one of the objectives in the
 operation order for August 6.

 Lala Baba.--The highest ground between Nibrunesi Point and
 the Salt Lake. This observation post was raided several times by New
 Zealanders before the Suvla landing. On it a German flag was flown
 after the evacuation.

 Leane's Trench.--A set of Turkish trenches near Tasmania Post,
 taken on July 31 by Western Australian troops under Major Leane, who
 was killed during the operations.

 Little Table Top.--A small, flat-topped hill north of the
 original "Table Top," which was sometimes called "Big Table Top."

 Long Sap, The.--A communication trench running from Anzac Cove,
 near Ari Burnu, along the foothills out to No. 2 Post.

 Lone Pine.--A set of Turkish trenches south of Johnston's
 Jolly, taken and held by the Australians during the August fighting.
 Seven Victoria Crosses were won here by Australians.

 Malone's Gully.--A dry watercourse between Happy Valley and No.
 1 Post, leading up towards Baby 700. Named after the gallant Colonel
 of the Wellington Infantry Battalion.

 Mal Tepe.--A small hill inland from Gaba Tepe, on which the
 Turks had guns. One of the objectives mentioned in the operation order
 for the Anzac landing.

 Monash Gully.--See Shrapnel Valley. Brigadier-General Monash
 commanded the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, which first held the
 head of Monash Gully.

 Mortar Ridge.-A ridge behind German Officers' Trench. Under the
 reverse slope of Mortar Ridge were innumerable dugouts protecting the
 Turkish reserves.

 Mule Gully.--A ravine running up behind Walker's Ridge. Under
 the shelter of the high banks the mules of the Indian Supply and
 Transport Corps were protected from fire.

 Mustard Plaster, The.--See the Apex.

 Maclagan's Ridge.--The ridge running from Plugge's Plateau down
 to Hell Spit. Named after the landing in honour of Colonel Sinclair
 Maclagan, D.S.O.

 Maclaurin's Hill.--Just south of Steel's Post. Colonel
 Maclaurin, the Brigadier of the 1st Australian Infantry Brigade, was
 killed in Monash Gully two days after the landing.

 McCay's Hill.--On the right flank, north of White Valley. Named
 after the Brigadier of the 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade.

 No. 1 Post.--On the left flank of Anzac. Sometimes known as
 Maori Post, from it being garrisoned by the Maori contingent.

 No. 2 Post.--Called Nelson Hill in the earlier days because
 held by the 10th (Nelson) Mounted Rifles; then taken over by the Otago
 Mounted Rifles; eventually became Divisional Headquarters for the
 August operations.

 No. 3 Post.--Established just north of No. 2 Outpost, when Old
 No. 3 was abandoned.

 Nameless Peak.--See Hill Q.

 Nek, The.--A narrow tongue of No Man's Land, running from
 Russell's Top towards the Turkish trenches.

 Nelson Hill.--See No. 2 Post.

 Nibrunesi Point.--The southern horn of Suvla Bay, shown on some
 Turkish maps as Kuchuk Kemekli.

 North Beach.--See Ocean Beach.

 Ocean Beach.--The stretch of sea shore between Ari Burnu and
 No. 2 Post. Sometimes known as North Beach.

 Old No. 3 Post.--High ground above Fishermen's Hut. Captured
 and held for two days by the N.Z.M.R. in May, but eventually abandoned
 to the Turks; retaken during the August advance.

 Olive Groves.--Clumps of trees inland from Gaba Tepe. "Beachy
 Bill" and other obnoxious Turkish guns were "dug in" in the vicinity.

 Otago Gully.--Near No. 3 Post. The Otago Mounted Rifles had
 their headquarters hereabouts during June and July.

 Overton Gully.--A gully named to commemorate Major Overton,
 Canterbury Mounted Rifles, a keen officer who directed the scouting
 and reconnoitering on the left flank. He was killed on August 7 while
 leading Cox's Indian Brigade up the Aghyl Dere.

 Owen's Gully.--A gully in Turkish territory between Johnston's
 Jolly and Lone Pine; named after Brigadier-General Cunliffe Owen, the
 artillery commander of the A.N.Z.A.C.

 Phillip's Top.--Near the bottom and on the southern side of
 Shrapnel Valley there was a low ridge called "The Razor Back," which,
 running up towards the firing line, became known as Phillip's Top,
 after Major Phillips, of the Australian Field Artillery.

 Pimple, The.--A salient in the Australian line just opposite
 the Turkish Lone Pine trenches; this Pimple became the Lone Pine

 Pine Ridge.--A Turkish position opposite the extreme right
 flank of Anzac.

 Plugge's Plateau.--The high ground immediately inland from
 Anzac Cove, the southern spur running down to Hell Spit being named
 Maclagan's Ridge. Plugge's Plateau is called after the O.C. Auckland
 Infantry Battalion.

 Point Rosenthal.--On the ridge below Bolton's Hill. Colonel
 Rosenthal commanded the 1st Australian Artillery Brigade.

 Pope's Hill.--An isolated post at the head of Monash Gully; on
 its right was Dead Man's Ridge; on its left a deep canyon separating
 Pope's from Russell's Top. Colonel Pope was the gallant white-haired
 commander of the famous 16th Australian Infantry Battalion.

 Poppy Valley.--There were many "Poppy" Valleys and "Poppy"
 Fields in the Anzac area, but the only one to get on the map was in
 the Turkish territory between Harris' Ridge and Pine Ridge, on the
 extreme southern flank of Anzac.

 Queensland Point.--That lower part of Maclagan's Ridge which
 resolves itself into Hell Spit. The Queensland Infantry landed here
 early on April 25.

 Quinn's Post.--At the head of Monash Gully; the most famous
 post in Anzac, the salient of the Anzac line. Named after Major Quinn,
 of the 15th Australian Infantry Battalion, who was killed defending
 the post. For the first few days this ground was held by Major Rankine
 ("Bobby") of the 14th Battalion A.I.F. He then handed over to Major

 Reserve Gully.--A "rest" gully in the low ground between
 Plugge's Plateau and the Sphinx. It eventually became unsafe, being
 periodically searched by the guns from the "W" Hills.

 Rest Gully.--See Canterbury Gully.

 Rhododendron Spur.--A prominent spur running westward from
 Chunuk Bair, and between the Chailak Dere and the Sazli Beit Dere, the
 point nearest Chunuk Bair being called the Apex. It was first called
 Rhododendron Spur by Major Overton, who saw in the scrubby arbutus
 some resemblance to a rhododendron.

 Rose Hill.--A northern underfeature of Bauchop Hill, below
 Little Table Top and above Hotchkiss Gully. Guns placed here defended
 the ground between The Blockhouse and our position on the Apex. Major
 Rose was a New Zealand machine gunner in charge of the 4th Australian
 Infantry Brigade machine guns.

 Russell's Top.--The highest point of Walker's Ridge, where
 Brigadier-General Russell, commanding the New Zealand Mounted Rifles,
 had his headquarters during May, June, and July.

 Ryrie's Post.--On the right of the Australian line; named after
 Brigadier-General Ryrie, 2nd Light Horse Brigade.

 Sandbag Ridge.--A salient in the new Anzac line near Hill 100.

 Sari-Bair.--The tangled mass of hills and watercourses inland
 from Anzac and Suvla, culminating in Hill 971.

 Sazli Beit Dere.--A watercourse, dry in summer, originating in
 the slopes of Chunuk Bair, and entering the sea near Fishermen's Hut.

 Scimitar Hill.--A round hill north of the "W" Hills, on which
 was a curved strip of yellow earth resembling a Turkish sword; shown
 on some maps as Hill 70, from its height in metres.

 Scrubby Knoll.--A Turkish position about 1500 yards due east of
 Courtney's Post.

 Shell Green.--A small area of cleared cultivable ground on the
 extreme right of Anzac, between Clarke Valley and Ryrie's Post.

 Shrapnel Valley.--The road to the centre of the Anzac position;
 heavily shelled by the Turkish artillery from the first day. Known to
 the Turks as Kamu Kapu Dere. The upper portion of the valley was known
 as Monash Gully.

 Snipers' Nest.--A scrubby hill about 1000 yards from the sea,
 from which Turkish snipers made the beach north of Ari Burnu unsafe
 for bathing or traffic.

 Smyth's Post.--A post in the Australian sector, named after an
 Australian officer.

 Sphinx, The.--A peculiar knife-edge spur jutting out seawards
 from Walker's Ridge. During the early days it was known by many names
 such as the Sphinx, the Knife Edge, the Cathedral, the Snipers'
 Crevice, &c., until it was entered on the map as the Sphinx. A legend
 that from a crevice a sniper picked off men for the first few days,
 until shot by Captain Wallingford, the well-known machine gunner, has
 no foundation in fact, except that some wild pigeons which had their
 home there were thought to be carriers.

 Stafford Gully.--See Hay Valley.

 Steel's Post.--The post south of Courtney's, named after
 Major Steel, of the 14th Australian Battalion. For the first week,
 Courtney's and Steel's were included in Steel's Post; but Lt.-Col.
 Courtney took over the left section which was renamed Courtney's.

 Susuk Kuyu.--A well just north of Hill 60, where the Anzac
 forces got in touch with the Suvla forces after the Suvla landing.

 Table Top.--A flat-topped hill, 1400 yards inland from the
 sea, just south of Chailak Dere and at the foot of Rhododendron Spur;
 captured by the Wellington Mounted Rifles on the night of August 6/7.

 Tasmanian Post.--A post held by the Tasmanians on the right of
 the Anzac front line, just north of Ryrie's Post.

 Taylor's Hollow.--A depression just below Bauchop's Hill; named
 after Lieut. Taylor, of the 10th (Nelson) Mounted Rifles, who made
 numerous reconnaisances in the vicinity.

 Turks' Hump.--A Turkish position on the lower slopes of
 Gunners' Hill, opposite Canterbury Knob.

 Turk's Point.--Part of the left of the original Anzac line,
 overlooking the head of Malone's Gully.

 Valley of Despair, The.--A valley in Turkish hands opposite our
 extreme right flank, running from near Lone Pine down towards the sea.

 Victoria Gully.--See Brown's Dip.

 Walden's Point.--North of Taylor's Hollow. Waldren, whose name
 was always mis-spelt "Walden," was a very daring sniper who did much
 reconnoitering on the Suvla Flats as a machine gun officer of the
 Maoris. He was killed on the Apex.

 Walker's Ridge.--The left flank of the original Anzac line.
 Brigadier-General Walker was attached to Army Headquarters, but as
 Colonel Johnston was down with measles on the morning of the Anzac
 landing, General Walker took command of the Brigade.

 Walker's Pier.--A wharf erected north of Ari Burnu, between
 Mule Gully and Reserve Gully.

 Wanliss Gully.--A gully breaking the Anzac line just opposite
 German Officers' Trench. This section was at one time under the
 command of Colonel Wanliss, 5th Australian Infantry Battalion.

 Warley Gap.--The gap in the line at Sandbag Ridge.

 Waterfall Gully.--A small sheltered gully in Bauchop's Hill,
 where newcomers bivouacked. The Headquarters of a Turkish unit was
 captured here on August 6/7.

 Watson's Pier.--The first wharf built at Anzac Cove by the New
 Zealand Engineers. Captain Watson was an officer of the Australian
 Signal Service, who overlooked the work when N.Z.E. officers could not
 be spared.

 Wellington Terrace.--The cliff side under the shadow of
 the Sphinx, studded with dugouts; originally a rest camp for the
 Wellington Regiment, who saw some resemblance to their native

 White's Valley.--A valley turning to the right off Shrapnel
 Valley, north of McCay's Hill; named after Lieut-Colonel White, of the
 8th Australian Light Horse.

 Wine Glass Ridge.--A Turkish position opposite the Anzac right

 Williams Pier.--A pier on North Beach.

 "W" Hills.--A low ridge 112 metres high, about a mile due north
 of Hill 60; shown on Turkish maps as Ismail Oglu Tepe, but better
 known to the Anzac troops as the "W" Hills. When looking north from
 Russell's Top, the spurs of this feature formed the line W, while the
 re-entrants formed the shadows.

A Gallipoli Diary.

War has many phases. Within the compass of a volume such as this, it
is not possible to describe in detail all those events bearing on the
subject of the Gallipoli campaign. Neither is it possible--though the
temptation is great--to deal with the glorious achievements of our
silent Allied Navies, and the accomplishments of our heroic French,
British, Indian and Australian comrades.

The following diary has been compiled so that the bearing of all the
multifarious happenings:--naval, military, and political--may be seen
in their proper setting in regard to the campaign.


 June 28. Assassination of Archduke Ferdinand at Serajevo.

 July 28. Austria declared war on Serbia.

 30. Preliminary arrangements made in New Zealand for a volunteer
 Expeditionary Force.

 Aug. 2. Germany declared war on Russia. Germans entered France.
 Russians entered Germany.

 3. Germany declared war on France.

 4. Britain declared war on Germany.

 5. "Goeben and "Breslau" at Messina, Italy.

 7. The New Zealand Government cabled to the Imperial Government
 offering the services of an Expeditionary Force.

 8. British Expeditionary Force landed in France.

 10. "Goeben" and "Breslau" reported at Constantinople.

 12. Services of N.Z.E.F. accepted by Imperial Authorities.

 15. Samoan Force of 1350 New Zealanders and four guns sailed.

 28. German Samoa surrendered.

 Sept. 24. Main Body embarked on transports.

 25. Force ordered to await a more powerful escort.

 Oct. 14. "Minotaur" and "Ibuki" arrived in Wellington Harbour.

 15. Main Body again embarked on transports.

 16. Convoy sailed from Wellington.

 21. Arrived at Hobart.

 22. Left Hobart for Albany.

 28. Arrived at Albany.

 Nov. 1. Australian and New Zealand convoy left Albany.

 British Naval defeat at Coronel.

 2. Martial law proclaimed in Egypt.

 First shelling of the Dardanelles Forts by French and British

 5. Britain and France officially declared war on Turkey.

 9. H.M.A.S. "Sydney" destroyed the "Emden" at the Cocos Islands.

 13. Convoy crossed the Equator; the "Hampshire" joined the convoy.

 15. Arrived at Colombo.

 17. New Zealand transports left Colombo for Aden.

 25. New Zealand transports arrived at Aden.

 26. Combined Australian and New Zealand convoy left Aden for Suez.

 28. Received wireless to prepare for disembarkation in Egypt.

 30. Arrived at Suez.

 Dec. 1. New Zealand ships passed through the Suez Canal.

 3. Commenced disembarkation at Alexandria.

 4. First troop train arrived at Helmieh station for Zeitoun Camp.

 8. German Naval defeat at the Falkland Islands.

 Australian Light Horse Brigade and Ceylon Planters Rifle Corps
 attached to N.Z.E.F.

 12. British Section trained on Salisbury Plain left Southampton for

 13. Lieut. Holbrook in BII. torpedoed the "Messoudieh" in the

 14. Second Reinforcements left New Zealand.

 18. Proclamation of a British Protectorate in Egypt; the Khedive Abbas

 19. His Highness Prince Hussein proclaimed Sultan of Egypt.

 23. March of N.Z. Troops through the streets of Cairo.

 24. British Section arrived at Zeitoun Camp.

 25. Christmas Day spent on the Desert.


 Jan. 18. Division now styled the "New Zealand and Australian Division."

 25. N.Z. Infantry Brigade ordered to Suez Canal.

 26. Infantry Brigade left Zeitoun for Ismailia. and Kubri.

 Feb. 1. Advance parties 4th Aust. Inf. Bde. arrived at Zeitoun.

 3. Turks attacked Suez Canal. New Zealanders engaged; one man died of
 wounds and one wounded.

 14. Third Reinforcements left New Zealand.

 19. Naval attack on the forts at the entrance of the Dardanelles.

 26. N.Z. Infantry Brigade returned from Suez Canal to Zeitoun.

 March 18. End of Dardanelles Naval attack. "Queen", "Irresistible" and
 "Bouvet" sunk.

 26. Third Reinforcements, consisting of 63 officers and 2417 other
 ranks arrived at Zeitoun.

 29. Inspection of Division by Sir Ian Hamilton.

 April 9. N.Z. & A. Division, less mounted units, entrained for

 10. First transports left for Mudros.

 15. Transport "Lutzow" with Divisional Headquarters on board arrived
 in Mudros Harbour.

 17. Fourth Reinforcements left New Zealand.

 24. French, British, Australian and New Zealand transports left Mudros

 25. French landed at Kum Kale.

 British landed at Cape Helles.

 A. & N.Z. Army Corps landed at Anzac Cove; 3rd Australian Infantry
 Brigade forced a landing at dawn.

 N.Z. Divisional Headquarters and details ashore at 10 a.m.; Auckland
 Battalion all ashore by 12 noon; No. 1 Field Company N.Z. Engineers
 and Canterbury and Otago Infantry came ashore during the afternoon.

 Wellington Infantry landed during the night.

 26. 6 a.m. two guns of N.Z. Howitzer Battery landed and came into

 Turkish counter attacks beaten off at Anzac.

 27. 2nd Battery N.Z.F.A. landed at 3 a.m.

 Heavy attack against centre and Walker's Ridge beaten off 9.30 a.m.

 28. Portsmouth and Chatham Battalions (Royal Marine Brigade) arrived 6

 No. 2 Company Divisional Train arrived at night.

 April 29. Heavy Turkish attacks all along the Anzac Line.

 A Naval Brigade (Nelson and Deal Battalion) arrived at night.

 May 2. Turkish observation post destroyed at Lala Baba by New

 2/3. Our attack at head of Monash Gully failed.

 3. Turk warship in straits fired on transports; "Annaberg" hit.

 4. Australian attack on Gaba Tepe beaten off.

 5/6. N.Z. Infantry Brigade and 2nd Australian Brigade left for Cape

 6. 3rd Reinforcements arrived Anzac--sent down to Helles. Combined
 French, British and Colonial Forces commenced attack on Krithia.

 7. New Zealanders in support of 29th Division.

 Sinking of "Lusitania" in the Atlantic.

 8. Great attack on Krithia not successful.

 10. Australians at head of Monash Gully attacked Turks, but withdrew.

 12. N.Z. Mounted Rifles (1500 men) arrived at Anzac to fight as

 Gen. Chauvel with 1400 men of the Australian Light Horse arrived.

 14. H.M.S. "Goliath" sunk at mouth of straits.

 Queenslanders made a sortie from Quinn's Post.

 15. General Birdwood slightly wounded in the head at Quinn's Post.

 General Bridges mortally wounded.

 16. 6-inch Howitzer with R.M.L.I. crew arrived in support of the

 Machine Gun detachment Otago Mounted Rifles arrived.

 17. 2nd Australian Infantry Brigade returned. 3 guns of 2nd Battery
 N.Z.F.A., man-handled up to Plugge's Plateau.

 18. Heavy Turkish attacks.

 German Taube flew over Anzac.

 19. Turks fail to drive A.N.Z. Corps into the sea.

 N.Z. Infantry Brigade returned from Helles.

 20. Otago Mounted Rifles (dismounted) arrived. Turks first ask for an

 24. Armistice Day to bury dead.

 25. H.M.S. "Triumph" torpedoed off Gaba Tepe.

 27. H.M.S. "Majestic" torpedoed off Cape Helles.

 28. Late at night Turks fire mine in front of Quinn's Post.

 Canterbury Mounted Rifles take "Old No. 3 Post."

 29. Attack on Quinn's Post--Major Quinn killed.

 Major Bruce, 26th Indian Mountain Battery killed.

 31. Turk blockhouse blown up in front of Quinn's by two sappers.

 June 3. 2nd Field Company, N.Z.E., arrived.

 4. Slight advance made at Cape Helles.

 Canterbury Infantry raided from Quinn's Post late at night.

 5. Another sortie against German Officers' Trench opposite Courtney's

 7. Fourth Reinforcements arrived Anzac Cove.

 Sortie from Quinn's Post night of 7/8th.

 8. First Monitor appeared off Anzac.

 10. Scouting parties of N.Z.M.R. driven back to No. 2 Post.

 12. 4.5 Howitzer taken from Howitzer Gully up to Plugge's Plateau.

 21. French captured the Haricot Redoubt at Cape Helles.

 June 28. A marked advance made in the Helles sector.

 29/30. Turks again unsuccessfully endeavoured to drive the infidels
 into the sea. The last Turkish attack on Anzac.

 July 2. Determined Turkish attack at Helles unsuccessful.

 4/5. Another heavy attack beaten off the British at Cape Helles.

 10. Turks at Cape Helles asked for Armistice to bury their dead.
 Armistice refused.

 11. N.Z. Hospital ship "Maheno" left Wellington.

 12. General Masnou, commanding the 1st French Division at Helles,
 mortally wounded.

 31. 200 men of the 11th West Australian Battalion took Turkish trenches
 opposite Tasmania Post.

 Aug. 3. 13th (New Army) commenced landing at Anzac.

 5. Fall of Warsaw.

 6/7. British delivered holding attack at Cape Helles.

 Australians made heroic attack at Lone Pine, Quinn's Post and Russell's

 Old No. 3 Post retaken and Table Top and Beauchop's Hill taken by

 Damakjelik Bair captured by Left Covering Force.

 7. New landing at Suvla Bay before dawn.

 Rhododendron Spur in the hands of New Zealanders.

 8. New Zealanders storm Chunuk Bair.

 New Army remains inactive at Suvla.

 Fifth Reinforcements reach Anzac and go into the firing line.

 9. Ghurkas reach the Saddle between Hill Q and Chunuk Bair.

 New Zealanders cling to the shoulder of Chunuk Bair; relieved at night
 by New Army Troops.

 10. New Army Troops driven from Chunuk Bair by Turkish counter attack.

 11. Advance from Suvla definitely held up.

 14. Sixth Reinforcements left New Zealand.

 21. First attack on Hill 60.

 Italy declared war on Turkey.

 26. "Maheno" arrived off Anzac.

 27. Battle renewed for the possession of Hill 60.

 28. New Zealanders held on to and consolidate their position on Hill 60.

 Sept. Troops go to rest camp at Sarpi.

 19. Von Mackensen renewed attack on Serbia.

 20. Bulgaria Treaty with Turkey announced, thus opening the Balkan

 29. British and Indian troops enter Kut-el-Amara.

 30. 10th (Irish) Division left Suvla for Salonika.

 Oct. 3. 2nd French Division left Helles for Salonika.

 7. Britain offered Cyprus to Greece.

 9. Belgrade captured by Austro-Germans.

 11. Lord Kitchener asked Sir Ian Hamilton the estimated cost of

 12. Sir Ian Hamilton replied that evacuation was unthinkable.

 14. In the House of Lords, Lord Milner and Lord Ribblesdale urged the
 evacuation of Gallipoli.

 15. Britain declared war on Bulgaria.

 16. Lord Kitchener telegraphed recalling Sir Ian Hamilton.

 17. Sir Ian Hamilton issued his farewell order.

 20. General Munro, in London, received instructions to proceed to the
 near east and take over command of the M.E.F.

 23. Wreck of Marquette--10 nurses drowned.

 30. General Sir Charles Munro first visits the Peninsula.

 Nov. 2. 4th Australian Infantry Brigade arrived from Sarpi Rest Camp.

 6. Nish captured by the Austro-Germans.

 10. N.Z. Mounted Rifles arrived from Mudros Rest Camp.

 13. Lord Kitchener visited Anzac.

 13. Mr. Winston Churchill resigned from the British Cabinet.

 17. Lt.-Col. Braithwaite, D.S.O., assumed command of N.Z. Infantry

 22. Battle of Ctesiphen.

 24. Period of silence ordered: lasted 72 hours.

 Major General Russell took over N.Z. and A. Division.

 26. Major General Godley assumed command of Army Corps.

 27/28. Commencement of the Great Blizzard.

 Dec. 3. General Townshend besieged at Kut-el-Amara.

 8. General Munro ordered General Birdwood to proceed with the
 evacuation of Anzac and Suvla.

 10/11. All sick, wounded, surplus troops, vehicles and valuable stores

 12. Announced at Anzac that a winter rest camp would be formed at
 Imbros. Surplus guns removed.

 15. Detailed orders issued for the evacuation.

 16. All ranks were warned of the impending operations.

 19. The last night of the evacuation of Anzac and Suvla.

 20. Evacuation of Anzac and Suvla completed by daylight. Troops
 disembarked at Lemos.

 21. Brig.-Gen. F. E. Johnston returned to Mudros and took over N.Z.
 Infantry Brigade; Lt.-Col. W. G. Braithwaite proceeded to Egypt to take
 over N.Z. Rifle Brigade. Col. E. W. C. Chaytor took over N.Z. Mounted
 Rifle Brigade.

 25. Christmas Day mostly spent at sea on transports returning to Egypt.
 Troops transferred to Egypt between December 21 and 31.


 Jan. 9. Evacuation from Cape Helles completed.


 Sept. 29. Surrender of Bulgaria.

 Oct. 31. Surrender of Turkey.

A Note by the Author.

Thanks are due, and are here tendered, to Generals Sir Ian Hamilton and
Sir William Birdwood for their most interesting forewords. They with
their authority and special knowledge, have said what might have been
difficult for a New Zealand officer.

I might also be permitted to say that from Sir James Allen I have
received most sympathetic encouragement. Any criticisms that I have
made appear without alteration, as the opinion of myself speaking for
the soldiers. My only aim has been to put the case before the people of
New Zealand as it occurred to the soldiers serving overseas.

The writing of this volume has not been easy. The records of the
New Zealanders at Gallipoli are far from complete, as Embarkation
Rolls, War Diaries and Returns of Casualties were kept by soldiers
who frequently became casualties; often the stress was so great
that the continuity of these records was broken. As the Company or
Regimental records box was sometimes lost altogether, it is difficult
to reconstruct the story. But by the aid of diaries, soldiers' letters,
personal experience and the willing assistance of old comrades, this
story of the New Zealanders at Gallipoli has been written. It would
be easier to write a history of the Crimean war, for the soldiers who
fought at Inkerman are nearly all dead, but many of the veterans of
Gallipoli happily survive and are keen critics. I can only throw myself
on their charity.

For considerable help, particularly in the later chapters, I am
indebted to Major Wallingford, M.C., Lt.-Colonel Powles, C.M.G.,
D.S.O., Lt.-Colonel Grigor, D.S.O., Major Lampen, D.S.O., Major Blair,
D.S.O., M.C., and Colonel Findlay, C.B.; to my thousand and one other
helpers--distinguished generals, unknown soldiers, and harassed
typists--I can only say "Thank you!" They will understand that a record
of their names would be almost a nominal roll of the Main Body and the
Staff of Base Records.

The photographs are unique in that they were all taken by soldiers
serving in the line. Working on my own collection as a basis I was
fortunate enough to secure those of Captain Boxer, N.Z.M.C., and
Sergeant Tite, N.Z.E., whose beautiful photographs will be found
duly acknowledged. Just before going to Press I received a number of
photographs taken by members of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles, in
December 1918, and to Colonel Findlay and Captain Douglas Deans special
thanks are due. Wherever possible photographs have been acknowledged,
but some of which I cannot trace the owners are included. From these
I shall be glad to hear, so that acknowledgment may be made in future
editions. It is only right to say that whenever I have asked a soldier
or a sailor for permission to use photographs, that permission has been
freely given. In not one case has there been a refusal--for that is the
way of the men of Anzac.

My rough maps and sketches have been transformed into works of art by
A. E. West, Esq., and W. Bedkober, Esq. All distances in the Anzac area
should be measured on the large folded map at the end of the volume.

I cannot say how indebted I am to J. Jeffery, Esq., of Anderson's Bay,
Dunedin, for valuable suggestions, and to W. Slater, Esq., who has
helped me with the proofs.

[Illustration Fred Waite signature]

  Waiwera South,

  November, 1919.

       *       *       *       *       *

_Printed and Published under the Authority of the New Zealand
Government by_





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ensuring that what you are doing is legal. Do not assume that just because
we believe a book is in the public domain for users in the United States,
that the work is also in the public domain for users in other countries.
Whether a book is still in copyright varies from country to country, and we
can't offer guidance on whether any specific use of any specific book is
allowed. Please do not assume that a book's appearance in Doctrine Publishing
ISYS search  means it can be used in any manner anywhere in the world.
Copyright infringement liability can be quite severe.

About ISYS® Search Software
Established in 1988, ISYS Search Software is a global supplier of enterprise
search solutions for business and government.  The company's award-winning
software suite offers a broad range of search, navigation and discovery
solutions for desktop search, intranet search, SharePoint search and embedded
search applications.  ISYS has been deployed by thousands of organizations
operating in a variety of industries, including government, legal, law
enforcement, financial services, healthcare and recruitment.