|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 22
On the 21st of August an attack was made on what were know as the W
Hills--so named from their resemblance to that letter of the alphabet.
Seated on a hill one had a splendid view of the battle. First the
Australians went forward over some open ground at a slow double with
bayonets fixed, not firing a shot; the Turks gave them shrapnel and
rifle-fire, but very few fell. They got right up to the first Turkish
trench, when all the occupants turned out and retired with more speed
than elegance. Still our men went on, taking a few prisoners and
getting close to the hills, over which they disappeared from my view.
Next, a battalion from Suvla came across as supports. The Turks
meanwhile had got the range to a nicety; the shrapnel was bursting
neatly and low and spreading beautifully--it was the best Turkish
shooting I had seen. The battalion was rather badly cut up, but a
second body came across in more open order than the others, and well
under the control of their officers; they took advantage of cover, and
did not lose so many men. The fight was more like those one sees in
the illustrated papers than any hitherto--shells bursting, men
falling, and bearers going out for the wounded. The position was
gained and held, but there was plenty of work for the Ambulance.
There were very few horses on the Peninsula, and those few belonged to
the Artillery. But at the time I speak of we had one attached to the
New Zealand and Australian Headquarters, to be used by the despatch
rider. Anzac, the Headquarters of General Birdwood, was about two and
a half miles away; and, being a true Australian, the despatch-carrier
declined to walk when he could ride, so he rode every day with
despatches. Part of the journey had to be made across a position open
to fire from Walker's Ridge. We used to watch for the man every day,
and make bets whether he would be hit. Directly he entered the fire
zone, he started as if he were riding in the Melbourne Cup, sitting
low in the saddle, while the bullets kicked up dust all round him. One
day the horse returned alone, and everyone thought the man had been
hit at last; but in about an hour's time he walked in. The saddle had
slipped, and he came off and rolled into a sap, whence he made his way
to us on foot.
When going through the trenches it is not a disadvantage to be small
of stature. It is not good form to put one's head over the sandbags;
the Turks invariably objected, and even entered their protest against
periscopes, which are very small in size. Numbers of observers were
cut about the face and a few lost their eyes through the mirror at the
top being smashed by a bullet. On one occasion I was in a trench which
the men were making deeper. A rise in the bottom of it just enabled
me, by standing on it, to peer through the loophole. On commending the
man for leaving this lump, he replied, "That's a dead Turk, sir!"
ARTILLERY
Watching the Field Artillery firing is very interesting. I went one
day with General Johnstone of the New Zealand Artillery to Major
Standish's Battery, some distance out on the left, and the observing
station was reached through a long sap. It was quite close to the
Turk's trenches, close enough to see the men's faces. All directions
were given by telephone, and an observer placed on another hill gave
the result of the shot--whether under, over, or to the right or left.
Errors were corrected and the order to fire again given, the target
meanwhile being quite out of sight of the battery commander.
It was amusing to hear the heated arguments between the Artillery and
Infantry, in which the latter frequently and vehemently asseverated
that they "could have taken the sanguinary place only our own
Artillery fired on them." They invariably supported these arguments by
the production of pieces of shell which had "blanky near put their
Australian adjective lights out." Of course the denials of the
Artillery under these accusations were very emphatic; but the
production of the shell-fragments was awkward evidence, and it was
hard to prove an alibi.
The advent of the hospital ship _Maheno_ resulted in a pleasant
addition to our dietary, as the officers sent ashore some butter,
fresh bread and a case of apples. The butter was the first I had
tasted for four and a half months. The _Maheno_ belonged to the Union
Company, and had been fitted up as a hospital ship under the command
of Colonel Collins. He was the essence of hospitality, and a meal on
board there was a dream.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|