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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/35119-8.txt b/35119-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de437d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/35119-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4739 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Trenching at Gallipoli, by John Gallishaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Trenching at Gallipoli + The personal narrative of a Newfoundlander with the + ill-fated Dardanelles expedition + +Author: John Gallishaw + +Release Date: January 31, 2011 [EBook #35119] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | + | been preserved. | + | | + | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For | + | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + * * * * * + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + [Illustration: Dugouts] + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + +THE PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A +NEWFOUNDLANDER WITH THE ILL-FATED +DARDANELLES EXPEDITION + +BY +JOHN GALLISHAW + +_ILLUSTRATED WITH +PHOTOGRAPHS_ + +[Illustration] + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. +1916 + + + + +Copyright, 1916, by +THE CENTURY CO. + +_Published, October, 1916_ + + + + +TO +PROFESSOR CHARLES TOWNSEND COPELAND + +OF ALL THAT HARVARD HAS GIVEN ME I VALUE MOST +THE FRIENDSHIP AND CONFIDENCE OF "COPEY" + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I GETTING THERE 3 + + II THERE 33 + + III TRENCHES 63 + + IV DUGOUTS 93 + + V WAITING FOR THE WAR TO CEASE 123 + + VI NO MAN'S LAND 141 + + VII WOUNDED 164 + + VIII HOMEWARD BOUND 192 + + IX "FEENISH" 224 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + + Dugouts _Frontispiece_ + + Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at Anzac 9 + + Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles 27 + + Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks + in Dardanelles 38 + + Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing beach 47 + + A remarkable view of a landing party in the Dardanelles 57 + + Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, using the + periscope 67 + + First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along parallel + to the Turkish trenches 78 + + Washing day in war-time 95 + + Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at Suvla 114 + + Landing British troops from the transports at the + Dardanelles under protection of the battleships 131 + + Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity 157 + + Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel Bahr + are still in position 175 + + A British battery at work on the Peninsula 186 + + With the French at Seddel Bahr 203 + + Where troops landed in Dardanelles, showing Fort + Sed-ne-behi battered to pieces by Allied Fleet 213 + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + + + +The reader is hereby cautioned against regarding this narrative as in +any way official. + +It is merely a record of the personal experiences of a member of the +First Newfoundland Regiment, but the incidents described all actually +occurred. + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + + + +CHAPTER I + +GETTING THERE + + +"Great Britain is at War." + +The announcement came to Newfoundland out of a clear sky. Confirming +it, came the news of the assurances of loyalty from the different +colonies, expressed in terms of men and equipment. Newfoundland was +not to be outdone. Her population is a little more than two hundred +thousand, and her isolated position made garrisons unnecessary. Her +only semblance of military training was her city brigades. People +remembered that in the Boer War a handful of Newfoundlanders had +enlisted in Canadian regiments, but never before had there been any +talk of Newfoundland sending a contingent made up entirely of her own +people and representing her as a colony. From the posting of the +first notices bearing the simple message, "Your King and Country Need +You," a motley crowd streamed into the armory in St. John's. The city +brigades, composed mostly of young, beautifully fit athletes from +rowing crews, football and hockey teams, enlisted in a body. Every +train from the interior brought lumbermen, fresh from the mills and +forests, husky, steel-muscled, pugnacious at the most peaceful times, +frankly spoiling for excitement. From the outharbors and fishing +villages came callous-handed fishermen, with backs a little bowed from +straining at the oar, accustomed to a life of danger. Every day there +came to the armory loose-jointed, easy-swinging trappers and woodsmen, +simple-spoken young men, who, in offering their keenness of vision and +sureness of marksmanship, were volunteering their all. + +It was ideal material for soldiers. In two days many more than the +required quota had presented themselves. Only five hundred men could +be prepared in time to cross with the first contingent of Canadians. +Over a thousand men offered. A corps of doctors asked impertinent +questions concerning men's ancestors, inspected teeth, measured and +pounded chests, demanded gymnastic stunts, and finally sorted out the +best for the first contingent. The disappointed ones were consoled by +news of another contingent to follow in six weeks. Some men, turned +down for minor defects, immediately went to hospital, were treated, +and enlisted in the next contingent. + +Seven weeks after the outbreak of war the Newfoundlanders joined the +flotilla containing the first contingent of Canadians. Escorted by +cruisers and air scouts they crossed the Atlantic safely and went +under canvas in the mud and wet of Salisbury Plain, in October, 1914. +To the men from the interior, rain and exposure were nothing new. +Hunting deer in the woods and birds in the marshes means just such +conditions. The others soon became hardened to it. They had about +settled down when they were sent on garrison duty, first to Fort +George in the north of Scotland, and then to Edinburgh Castle. Ten +months of bayonet-fighting, physical drill, and twenty-mile route +marches over Scottish hills molded them into trim, erect, bronzed +soldiers. + +In July of 1915, while the Newfoundlanders were under canvas at Stob's +Camp, about fifty miles from Edinburgh, I was transferred to London +to keep the records of the regiment for the War Office. At any other +time I should have welcomed the appointment. But then it looked like +quitting. The battalion had just received orders to move to Aldershot. +While we were garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, word came of the landing +of the Australians and New Zealanders at Gallipoli. At Ypres, the +Canadians had just then recaptured their guns and made for themselves +a deathless name. The Newfoundlanders felt that as colonials they had +been overlooked. They were not militaristic, and they hated the +ordinary routine of army life, but they wanted to do their share. That +was the spirit all through the regiment. It was the spirit that +possessed them on the long-waited-for day at Aldershot when Kitchener +himself pronounced them "just the men I want for the Dardanelles." + +That day at Aldershot every man was given a chance to go back to +Newfoundland. They had enlisted for one year only, and any man that +wished to could demand to be sent home at the end of the year; and +when Kitchener reviewed them, ten months of that year had gone. With +the chance to go home in his grasp, every man of the first battalion +reënlisted for the duration of the war. And it is on record to their +eternal honor, that during the week preceding their departure from +Aldershot, breaches of discipline were unknown; for over their heads +hung the fear that they would be punished by being kept back from +active service. To break a rule that week carried with it the +suspicion of cowardice. This was the more remarkable, because many of +the men were fishermen, trappers, hunters, and lumbermen, who, until +their enlistment had said "Sir" to no man, and who gloried in the +reputation given them by one inspecting officer as "the most +undisciplined lot he had ever seen." From the day the Canadians left +Salisbury Plain for the trenches of Flanders, the Newfoundlanders had +been obsessed by one idea: they must get to the front. + +I was in London when I heard of the inspection at Aldershot by Lord +Kitchener, and of its results. I had expected to be able to rejoin my +battalion in time to go with them to the Dardanelles; but when I +applied for a transfer, I was told that I should have to stay in +London. I tried to imagine myself explaining it to my friends in No. +11 section who were soon to embark for the Mediterranean. Apart +altogether from that, I had gone through nearly a year of training, +had slept on the ground in wet clothes, had drilled from early morning +till late afternoon, and was perfectly fit. It had been pretty +strenuous training, and I did not want to waste it in an office. + +That evening I applied to the captain in charge of the office for a +pass to Aldershot to bid good-by to my friends in the regiment. He +granted it; and the next morning a train whirled me through pleasant +English country to Aldershot. At the station I met an English Tommy. + +"I suppose you're looking for the Newfoundlanders," he said, glancing +at my shoulder badges. I was still wearing the service uniform I had +worn in camp in Scotland, for I had not been regularly attached to the +office force in London. + +"I'll take you to Wellington Barracks," volunteered the Englishman. +"That's where your lot is." + +We trudged through sand, on to a gravel road, through the main street +of the town of Aldershot, and into an asphalt square, surrounded by +brick buildings, three storied, with iron-railed verandas. Men in +khaki leaned over the veranda rails, smoking and talking. A regiment +was just swinging in through one of the gaps between the lines. + + [Illustration: Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at + Anzac] + +"Company, at the halt, facing left, form close column of platoons." +Company B of the First Newfoundland Regiment swung into position and +halted in the square just in front of their quarters. "Company, +Dismiss!" Hands smacked smartly on rifle stocks, heels clicked +together, and the men of B Company fell out. A gray-haired, +iron-mustached soldier, indelibly stamped English regular, carrying a +bucket of swill across the square to the dump, stopped to watch them. + +"Wonder who the new lot is?" said he to a comrade lounging near. "I +cawn't place their bloomin' badge." + +"'Aven't you 'eard?" said the other. "Blawsted colonials; Canydians, I +reckon." + +A tall, loose-jointed, sandy-haired youth who approached the two was +unmistakably a colonial; there was a certain ranginess that no amount +of drilling could ever entirely eradicate. + +"Hello, Poppa," he greeted the gray-haired one, who had now resumed +his journey toward the dump. "What will you answer when your children +say, 'Daddy, what part did you play in the great war?'" + +He of the swill bucket spat contemptuously, disdaining to answer. The +sandy-haired youth continued airily across the square and up the +stairs that led to his quarters. I followed him up the stairs and +through a door on which was printed "Thirty-two men," and below, in +chalk, "B Company." We entered a long, bare-looking room, down each +side of which ran rows of iron cots. Equipments were piled neatly on +the beds and on shelves above; two iron-legged, barrack-room tables +and a few benches completed the furniture. At one of the tables sat +two young men. One of them, a massively built young giant, looked up +as the door opened. + +"Hello, Art," he said to my conductor. "You're just the man we want. +Don't you want to join us in a party to go up to London?" + +"No," answered Art; "if you break leave this week, you don't get to +the front." + +The big fellow stretched his massive frame in a capacious yawn. + +"I don't think we'll ever get to the front," he said. "This isn't a +regiment. It's an officers' training corps. They gave out a lot more +stripes to-day, and one fellow got a star--made him a second +lieutenant. You'd think this was the American army; it's nothing but +stars and stripes. Soon 't will be an honor to be a private. The worst +of it is, they'll come along to me and say, 'What's your name and +number?' The only time they ever talk to me is to ask me my name and +number; and when I tell them, they put me on crime for not calling +them 'Sir,' and when I don't they have me up for insolence." + +Art laughed. "Cheer up, old boy," he said; "you'll soon be at the +front, and then you won't have to call anybody 'Sir.'" + +"What's the latest news about the regiment?" I inquired of my +conductor. + +"I suppose you know that the King and Lord Kitchener reviewed us," he +said, "and this afternoon we are to be reviewed once more. It's a +formality. We should leave this evening or to-morrow for the front. I +suppose we'll go to some seaport town and embark there." + +While we were talking a bugle blew. "There's the cook-house bugle," +said Art. "Come along and have some dinner with us." He took some tin +dishes from the shelves above the beds, gave me one, and we joined in +the rush down the stairs and across the square to the cook house. + +In the army, the cook house corresponds to the dining-room of +civilization. B Company cook house was a long, narrow, wooden +building. On each side of a middle aisle that led to the kitchen were +plain wooden tables, each accommodating sixteen men, eight on each +side. When we arrived, the building was full. When you are eating as +the guest of the Government, there is no hostess to reserve for you +the choice portions; therefore it behooves you to come early. In the +army, if you are not there at the beginning of a meal, you go hungry. +Thus are inculcated habits of punctuality. But if you are called and +the meal is not ready, you have your revenge. Two hundred and +sixty-two men of B Company were showing their disapproval of the +cooks' lack of punctuality. Screeches, yells, and cat cries rivaled +the din of stamping feet and the banging of tin dishes. Occasionally +the door of the kitchen swung open and afforded a glimpse of three +sweating cooks and their group of helpers, working frenziedly. +Sometimes the noise stopped long enough to allow some spokesman to +express his opinion of the cooks, and their fitness for their jobs, +with that delightful simplicity and charming candor that made the +language of the First Newfoundland Regiment so refreshing. Loud +applause served the double purpose of encouraging the speakers and +drowning the reply of the incensed cooks. This was a pity, because the +language of an army cook is worth hearing, and very enlightening. Men +who formerly prided themselves on their profanity have listened, +envious and subdued, awed by the originality and scope of a cook's +vocabulary, and thenceforth quit, realizing their own amateurishness. +Occasionally, though, one of the cooks, stung to retort, would appear, +wiping his hands on his overalls, and in a few well-chosen phrases, +cover some of the more recent exploits of the one who had angered him, +or endeavor to clear his own character, always in language brilliant, +fluent, and descriptive. + +But the longest wait must come to an end, and at last the door of the +kitchen swung open and the helpers appeared. Some mysterious mess fund +had been tapped, and that day dinner was particularly good. First came +soup, then a liberal helping of roast beef, with potatoes, tomatoes, +and peas, followed by plum pudding. B Company soon finished. In the +army, dinner is a thing not of ceremony, but of necessity. + +I did not wait for my sandy-haired friend; his name, I gathered, was +Art Pratt. He and a neighbor were adjusting a difference regarding the +ownership of a combination knife, fork, and spoon. I found my way back +to the room marked "Thirty-two men." Just as I entered, I heard the +bugle sound the "half-hour dress." + +All about the room men were busy shining shoes, polishing buttons, +rolling puttees, and adjusting equipments. This took time, and the +half hour for preparation soon passed. In the square below, at the +sound of the "Fall In," eleven hundred men of the first battalion of +the First Newfoundland Regiment sprang briskly to attention. After +their commanding officer had inspected them, the battalion formed into +column of route. As the tail of the column swung through the square, I +joined in. A short march along the Aldershot Road brought us to the +dusty parade ground. Here we were drawn up in review order, to await +the inspecting general. When he arrived, he rode quickly through the +lines, then ordered the men to be formed into a three-sided square. +From the center of this human stadium he addressed them. + +"Men of the First Newfoundland Regiment," said he, "a week ago you +were reviewed by His Majesty the King and by Lord Kitchener. On that +day, Lord Kitchener told you that you were just the men he needed for +the Dardanelles. I have been deputed to tell you that you are to +embark to-night. You have come many miles to help us; and when you +reach the Dardanelles, you will be opposed by the bravest fighters in +the world. It is my duty and my pleasure on behalf of the British +Government and of His Majesty the King to thank you and to wish you +God-speed." + +This was the moment the Newfoundlanders had been waiting for for +nearly a year. From eleven hundred throats broke forth wave upon wave +of cheering. Then came an instant's hush, the bugle band played the +general salute, and the regiment presented arms. Gravely the general +acknowledged the compliment, spurred his horse, and rode rapidly away. +The regiment reformed, marched back to barracks, and dismissed. + +I joined the crowd that pressed around the board on which were posted +the daily orders. My friend Art Pratt was acting as spokesman. + +"A and B Companies leave here at eight this evening," he said. "C and +D Companies an hour later. They march to Aldershot railway station, +and entrain there." + +I left the group around the board and walked over to the office of the +adjutant. He was busy giving instructions about his baggage. + +"Well," he said, "what do you want?" + +"I want to go with the battalion this evening, sir," I said. + +He questioned me; and when he found out all the facts, told me that I +couldn't go. I didn't wait any longer. As I went out the door, I could +just hear him murmur something about my not having the necessary +papers. But I wasn't thinking of papers just then. I was wondering how +I could get away. I vowed that if I could possibly do it I would go +with the battalion. I was passing one of the stairways when I heard +some one yell, "Is that you, Corporal Gallishaw?" I turned. It was Sam +Hiscock, one of my old section. + +"Hello, Sam," I said. "I didn't know where to look for old No. 11 +section. They've all been changed about since they came here." + +"Come up this way," said Sam, and I followed him up the stairs and +into a room occupied by the men of No. 11 section, my old section at +Stob's Camp in Scotland. + +Disconsolately I told them my plight, and disclosed my plan guardedly. +Sam Hiscock, faithful and loyal to his section, voiced the sentiment. +"Come on with old No. 11; we'll look after you. All you have to do is +hang around here, and when we're moving off just fall in with us, and +nobody'll notice then; 't will be dark." + +"The big trouble is," I said, "I have no equipment, no overcoat, no +kit-bag; in fact, no anything." + +"You've got a rain coat," said Pierce Power, "and I've got a belt you +can have." Another offered a piece of shoulder strap, and some one +else volunteered to show me where a pile of equipments were kept in a +room. I followed him out to the room. In the corner a man was sitting +on the floor, smoking. He was the guard over the equipments. He +belonged to an English regiment, and so did the equipments. Sam +Hiscock engaged him in conversation for a few minutes. The topic he +introduced was a timely one: beer. While Hiscock and the guard went to +the canteen to do some research work in beverages, I took his place +guarding the equipments. By the time the two returned I had managed to +acquire a passable looking kit. I spent the rest of the afternoon +going around among my friends and telling them what I proposed to do. +At eight o'clock I joined the crowd that cheered A and B Companies as +they moved away, in charge of the adjutant and the colonel. When the +major called C and D Companies to attention, I fell in with my old +section C Company. The lieutenant in charge of the platoon I was with +saw me, but in the dusk he could not recognize my face. I was thankful +for the convenient darkness; and because it was fear of his invention +that caused it, I blessed the name of Count Zeppelin. + +"Where's your rifle?" asked the lieutenant. + +"Haven't got one, sir," I said. + +The lieutenant called the platoon sergeant. "Sergeant," he snapped, +"get that man a rifle." The sergeant doubled back to the barracks and +returned with a rifle. The lieutenant moved away, and I had just begun +to congratulate myself, when disaster overtook me. The platoon was +numbered off. There was one man too many, and of course I was the man. +The lieutenant did not waste any time in vain controversy. He ordered +me out of his platoon. + +"Where shall I go?" I asked. + +"As far as I am concerned," he answered, "you can go straight to +hell." + +I left his platoon; but when I did, I carried with me the precious +rifle. The sergeant, a thorough man, had been thoughtful enough to +bring with it a bayonet. + +The time had now come to risk everything on one throw. I did. In the +army, all orders from the commanding officer of a regiment are +transmitted through the adjutant. I knew that both the colonel and the +adjutant had gone an hour ago, and could not now be reached. So I +walked up to Captain March, the captain of D Company, saluted, and +told him that I had been ordered to join his company. + +"Ordered by whom?" he asked. + +"By the Adjutant," said I, brazenly. + +"I haven't had any orders about that," said Captain March. + +Just then, Captain O'Brien, who had been my company commander in camp, +came up. I think he must have known what I was trying to do. + +"If the Adjutant said so, it's all right," he said, thus leaving the +burden of proof on me. + +"Go ahead then," said Captain March; "fall in." + +I fell in. We formed up, and swung out of the square and along the +road that led to the station. At intervals, where a street lamp threw +a subdued glare, crowds cheered us; for even Aldershot, clearing house +of fighting forces, had not yet ceased to thrill at the sight of men +leaving for the front. Half an hour after we left the barracks, we +were all safely stowed away in the train, ten men in each of the +compartment coaches. Just as we were pulling out, a soldier went from +coach to coach, shaking hands with all the men. He came to our coach, +put his head in through the window, and shook hands with each man. I +was on the inside. "Good-by, old chap," he said, then gasped in +astonishment. The train was just beginning to move. It was well under +way when he recovered himself. "Gallishaw," he shouted, "you're under +arrest." It was the sergeant-major of the Record Office I had quitted +in London. + +During war time in England, troop trains have the right of way over +all others. All night our train rattled along, with only one stop. +That was at Exeter where we were given a lunch supplied by the +Mayoress and ladies of the town. I spent the night under the seat; for +I thought the sergeant-major might telegraph to have the train +searched for me. Early next morning, we shunted onto a wharf in +Devonport, alongside the converted cruiser _Megantic_. Her sides were +already lined with soldiers; another battalion of eleven hundred men, +the Warwickshire Regiment, was aboard. As soon as our battalion had +detrained, I hid behind some boxes on the pier; and when the last of +the men were walking up the gangplank. I joined them. A steward handed +each man a ticket, bearing the number of his berth. I received one +with the rest. Since I was in uniform, the steward had no way of +telling whether or not I belonged to the Newfoundlanders. + +All that day the _Megantic_ stayed in port, waiting for darkness to +begin the voyage. In the afternoon, we pulled out into the stream; and +at sunset began threading our way between buoys, down the tortuous +channel to the open sea. A couple of wicked-looking destroyers +escorted us out of Devonport; but as soon as we had cleared the +harbor, they steamed up and shot ahead of us. The next morning they +had disappeared. The first night out I ate nothing, but the next day I +managed to secure a ticket to the dining-room. With two battalions on +board, there was no room on the _Megantic_ for drills; the only work +we had was boat drill once a day. Each man was assigned his place in +the lifeboats. At the stern of the ship a big 4.7 gun was mounted; and +at various other points were placed five or six machine guns, in +preparation for a possible submarine attack. In addition, we depended +for escape on our speed of twenty-three to twenty-five knots. + +During the boat drills, I stayed below with the Warwickshire Regiment, +or, as we called them, the Warwicks. This regiment was formed of men +of the regular army, who had been all through the first gruelling part +of the campaign, beginning with the retreat from Mons, to the battle +of the Marne. They were the remnants of "French's contemptible little +army." Every one of them had been wounded so seriously as to be unable +to return to the front. Ordinarily they would have been discharged, +but they were men whose whole lives had been spent in the army. Few of +them were under forty, so they were now being sent to Khartum in the +Sudan, for garrison duty. At night, I came on deck. In the submarine +area ships showed no lights, so I could go around without fear of +discovery. The only people I had to avoid were the officers, and the +caste system of the army kept them to their own part of the ship. The +men I knew would sooner cut their tongues out than inform on me. + +Just before sunset of the third night out, because we passed several +ships, we knew we were approaching land. At nine o'clock, we were +directly opposite the Rock of Gibraltar. After we had left Gibraltar +behind, all precautions were doubled; we were now in the zone of +submarine operations. Ordinarily we steamed along at eighteen or +nineteen knots; but the night before we fetched Malta, we zigzagged +through the darkness, with engines throbbing at top speed, until the +entire ship quivered and shook, and every bolt groaned in protest. +With nearly three thousand lives in his care, our captain ran no +risks. But the night passed without incident. The next day, at noon, +we were safe in one of the fortified harbors of Malta. + +After we left Malta, since I knew I could not then be sent back to +England, I reported myself to the adjutant. He and the colonel were in +the orderly room, as the office of a regiment is called. The +sergeant-major in charge of the orderly room had been taken ill two or +three days before, and the other men had been swamped by the extra +rush of clerical work, incident on the departure of a regiment for the +front. Perhaps this had a good deal to do with the lenient treatment I +received. The adjutant came to the point at once. That is a +characteristic of adjutants. + +"Gallishaw," he said, "do you want to come to work here?" + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"All right," he said; "you're posted to B Company." + +That night, it appeared in orders that "Lance-Corporal Gallishaw has +embarked with the battalion, and is posted to B Company for pay." The +only comment the colonel made on the affair was to say to the +adjutant, "I've often heard of men leaving a ship when she is going on +active service, but I've never heard of men stowing away to get +there." Thus I went to work in the orderly room; and in the orderly +room I stayed until we arrived at Alexandria, Egypt, and entrained +for Cairo. At Heliopolis, on the desert near Cairo, we went into camp. +There I joined my company and drilled with it, and bade good-by to the +orderly room and all its works. + + [Illustration: Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles] + +We stayed in Egypt only ten days or so to get accustomed to the heat, +and to change our heavy uniforms and hats for the light-weight duck +uniforms and sun helmets, suitable for the climate on the Peninsula of +Gallipoli. The heat at Heliopolis was too intense to permit of our +drilling very much. In the very early morning, before the sun was +really strong, we marched out a mile across the desert, skirmished +about for an hour or so, and returned to camp for breakfast. The rest +of the day we were free. Ordinarily we spent the morning sweltering in +our marquees, saying unprintable and uncomplimentary things about the +Egyptian weather. In the late afternoon and evening, we went to Cairo. +About a mile from where we were camped, a street car line ran into the +city. To get to it we generally rode across the desert on donkeys. +Every afternoon, as soon as we had finished dinner, little native boys +pestered us to hire donkeys. They were the same boys who poked their +heads into our marquees each morning and implored us to buy papers. We +needed no reveille in Egypt. The thing that woke us was a native +yelling "Eengaleesh paper, veera good; veera good, veera nice; fifty +thousand Eengaleesh killed in the Dardanelle; veera good, veera nice." + +About a quarter of a mile across the desert from us was a camp for +convalescent Australians and New Zealanders. As soon as the Australians +found that we were colonials like themselves, they opened their hearts +to us in the breezy way that is characteristically Australian. There is +a Canadian hospital unit in Cairo. One medical school from Ontario +enlisted almost _en masse_. Professors and pupils carry on work and +lectures in Egypt just as they did in Canada. It was not an uncommon +thing to see on a Cairo street a group composed of an Australian, a New +Zealander, a Canadian, and a Newfoundlander. And once we managed to +rake up a South African. The clean-cut, alert-looking, bronzed +Australians, who impressed you as having been raised far from cities, +made a tremendous hit with the Newfoundlanders. One chap who was +returning home minus a leg, gave us a young wallaby that he had +brought with him from Australia. One of our boys had a small donkey, +not much larger than a collie dog, that he bought from a native for a +few shillings. The men vied with each other in feeding the animals. +Some fellows took the kangaroo one evening, and he acquired a taste for +beer. The donkey's taste for the same beverage was already well +developed. After that, the two were the center of convivial gatherings. +The wallaby got drunk faster, but the donkey generally got away with +more beer. When we were certain we were to go to the front, a meeting +was held in our marquee. It was unanimously decided that not a man was +to take a cent with him--everybody was to leave for the front +absolutely broke--"to avoid litigation among our heirs," the spokesman +said. The wallaby and the donkey benefited. The night before we left +the desert camp, they were wined and dined. The next morning, the +kangaroo, bearing unmistakable marks of his debauch, showed up to say +good-by. We were not allowed to take him with us, and he was relegated +to the Zoo in Cairo. The donkey, who had been steadily mixing his +drinks from four o'clock the afternoon before, did not see us go. When +we moved off, he was lying unconscious under one of the transport +wagons. + +Although we took advantage of every opportunity for pleasure, we had +not lost sight of our real object. We were grateful for a chance to +visit the Pyramids, and enjoyed our meeting with the men from the +Antipodes, but Egypt soon palled. The Newfoundlanders' comment was +always the same. "It's some place, but it isn't the front. We came to +fight, not for sightseeing." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THERE + + +It was with eleven hundred eager spirits that I lined up on a Sunday +evening early in August, 1915, on the deck of a troopship, in Mudros +Harbor, which is the center of the historic island of Lemnos, about +fifty miles from Gallipoli. Around us lay all sorts of ships, from +ocean leviathans to tiny launches and rowboats. There were gray and +black-painted troopers, their rails lined with soldiers, immense +four-funneled men-o'-war, and brightly lighted, white hospital ships, +with their red crosses outlined in electric lights. The landing +officer left us in a little motor boat. We watched him glide slowly +shoreward, where we could faintly discern through the dusk the white +of the tents that were the headquarters for the army at Lemnos. To the +right of the tents, we could see the hospital for wounded Australians +and New Zealanders. A French battleship dipped its flag as it passed, +and our boys sang the Marseillaise. + +A mail that had come that day was being sorted. While we waited, each +man was served with his "iron ration." This consisted of a one-pound +tin of pressed corn beef--the much-hated and much-maligned "bully +beef"--a bag of biscuits, and a small tin that held two tubes of +"Oxo," with tea and sugar in specially constructed air-and-damp-proof +envelopes. This was an emergency ration, to be kept in case of direst +need, and to be used only to ward off actual starvation. After that, +we were given our ammunition, two hundred and fifty rounds to each +man. + +But what brought home to me most the seriousness of our venture was +the solitary sheet of letter paper with its envelope, that was given +to every man, to be used for a parting letter home. For some poor +chaps it was indeed the last letter. Then we went over the side, and +aboard the destroyer that was to take us to Suvla Bay. + +The night had been well chosen for a surprise landing. There was no +moon, but after a little while the stars came out. Away on the port +bow we could see the dusky outline of land; and once, when we were +about half way, an airship soared phantom-like out of the night, +poised over us a short time, then ducked out of sight. At first the +word ran along the line that it was a hostile airship, but a few +inquiries soon reassured us. + +Suddenly we changed our direction. We were near Cape Hellas, which is +the lowest point of the Peninsula of Gallipoli. Under Sir Ian +Hamilton's scheme, it was here that a decoy party was to land to draw +the Turks from Anzac. Simultaneously, an overwhelming force was to +land at Suvla Bay and at Anzac, to make a surprise attack on the +Turks' right flank. Presently, we were going up shore past the wrecked +steamer _River Clyde_, the famous "Ship of Troy," from the side of +which the Australians had issued after the ship had been beached; past +the shore hitherto nameless, but now known as Anzac. Australian, New +Zealand, Army Corps, those five letters stand for; but to those of us +who have been on Gallipoli, they stand for a great deal more: they +represent the achievement of the impossible. They are a glorious +record of sacrifice, reckless devotion, and unselfish courage. To put +each letter there cost the men from Australasia ten thousand of their +best soldiers. + +And so we edged our way along, fearing mines, or, even more +disastrous than mines, discovery by the enemy. From the Australasians +over at Anzac, we could hear desultory rifle fire. Once we heard the +boom of some big guns that seemed almost alongside the ship. Four +hours it took us to go fifty miles, in a destroyer that could make +thirty-two knots easily. By one o'clock, the stars had disappeared, +and for perhaps three quarters of an hour we edged our way through +pitch darkness. We gradually slowed down, until we had almost stopped. +Something scraped along our side. Somebody said it was a floating +mine, but it turned out to be a buoy that had been put there by the +navy to mark the channel. Out of the gloom directly in front some one +hailed, and our people answered. + +"Who have you on board?" we heard the casual English voice say. Then +came the reply from our colonel: + +"Newfoundlanders." + +There was to me something reassuring about that cool, self-contained +voice out of the night. It made me feel that we were being expected +and looked after. + +"Move up those boats," I heard the English voice say, and from right +under our bow a naval launch, with a middy in charge, swerved +alongside. In a little while it, with its string of boats, was +securely fastened. + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks in + Dardanelles] + +Just before we went into the boats, the adjutant passed me. + +"Well," he said, "you've got your wish. In a few minutes you'll be +ashore. Let me know how you like it when you're there a little while." + +"Yes, sir," I said. But I never had a chance to tell him. The first +shrapnel shell fired at the Newfoundlanders burst near him, and he had +scarcely landed when he was taken off the Peninsula, seriously +wounded. + +In a short time we had all filed into the boats. There was no noise, +no excitement; just now and then a whispered command. I was in a tug +with about twenty others who formed the rear guard. The wind had +freshened considerably, and was now blowing so hard that our unwieldy +tug dared not risk a landing. We came in near enough to watch the +other boats. About twenty yards from shore they grounded. We could see +the boys jump over the side and wade ashore. Through the half darkness +we could barely distinguish them forming up on the beach. Soon they +were lost to sight. + +During the Turkish summer, dawn comes early. We transhipped from our +tug to a lighter. When it grounded on the beach, day was just +breaking. Daylight disclosed a steeply sloping beach, scarred with +ravines. The place where we landed ran between sheer cliffs. A short +distance up the hill we could see our battalion digging themselves in. +To the left I could see the boats of another battalion. Even as I +watched, the enemy's artillery located them. It was the first shell I +had ever heard. It came over the hill close to me, screeching through +the air like an express train going over a bridge at night. Just over +the boat I was watching it exploded. A few of the soldiers slipped +quietly from their seats to the bottom of the boat. At first I did not +realize that anybody had been hit. There was no sign of anything +having happened out of the ordinary, no confusion. As soon as the boat +touched the beach, the wounded men were carried by their mates up the +hill to a temporary dressing station. The first shell was the +beginning of a bombardment. "Beachy Bill," a battery that we were to +become better acquainted with, was in excellent shape. Every few +minutes a shell burst close to us. Shrapnel bullets and fragments of +shell casing forced us to huddle under the baggage for protection. A +little to the left, some Australians were severely punished. Shell +after shell burst among them. A regiment of Sikh troops, mule drivers, +and transport men were caught half way up the beach. Above the din of +falling shrapnel and the shriek of flying shells rose the piercing +scream of wounded mules. The Newfoundlanders did not escape. That +morning "Beachy Bill's" gunners played no favorites. On all sides the +shrapnel came in a shower. Less often a cloud of thick black smoke, +and a hole twenty feet deep showed the landing place of a high +explosive shell. The most amazing thing was the coolness of the men. +The Newfoundlanders might have been practising trench digging in camp +in Scotland. When a man was hit, some one gave him first aid, directed +the stretcher bearers where to find him, and resumed digging. + +About nine, I was told off to go to the beach with one man to guard +the baggage. We picked our way carefully, taking advantage of every +bit of cover. About half way down, we heard the warning shriek of a +shell, and threw ourselves on our faces. Almost instantly we were in +the center of a perfect whirlwind of shells. "Beachy Bill" had just +located a lot of Australians, digging themselves in about fifty yards +away from us. The first few shells fell short, but only the first few. +After that, the Turkish gunners got the range, and the Australians had +to move, followed by the shells. As soon as we were sure that the +danger was over, we continued to the beach, and aboard the lighter +that contained our baggage. We had not had a chance to get any +breakfast before we started, but the sergeant of our platoon had +promised to send a corporal and another man to relieve us in two +hours. About twelve o'clock the sergeant appeared, to tell me to wait +until one o'clock, when I should be relieved. He brought the news that +the adjutant had been wounded seriously in the arm and leg. At the +very beginning of the bombardment, a shell had hit him. About forty of +our men had been hit, the sergeant said, and the regiment was +preparing to change its position. He showed us the new position, and +told us to rejoin there as soon as relieved. + +About a hundred yards to the right of us rose a cliff that prevented +our boat being seen by the enemy. The Turks were devoting their +attention to some boats landing well to the left of us. The officer in +charge of landing was taking advantage of this and had a gang near us +working on dugouts for stores and supplies. Right under the cliffs a +detachment of engineers were building a landing as coolly as if they +were at home. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, to show us that he was +still doing business, "Beachy Bill" sent over a few shells in our +direction. The gunners could not see us, but they wanted to warn us +not to presume too much. As soon as the first shell landed near us, +the officer in charge shouted nonchalantly, "Take cover, everybody." +He waited until he was certain every man had found a hiding place, +then effaced himself. The courage of the officers of the English army +amounts almost to foolhardiness. The men to relieve us did not arrive +at once, as promised. The hot afternoon passed slowly. Each hour was a +repetition of the preceding one. "Beachy Bill" was surpassing himself. +From far out in the bay our warships replied. + +About five o'clock I espied one of the Newfoundland lieutenants a +little way up the beach in charge of a party of twenty men. I +signaled to him and he came down to our boat. The party had come to +unload the baggage. When I asked the lieutenant about being relieved, +he told me that he had sent a corporal and one man down about one +o'clock, and ordered me back to the regiment to report to Lieutenant +Steele. Half way up the beach we found Lieutenant Steele. The corporal +sent down to relieve me, he told me, had been hit by a shell just +after he left his dugout. The man with him had not been heard from. I +went back to the beach, and found the man perched up on top of the +cliff to the right of the lighter. He had been waiting there all the +afternoon for the corporal to join him. + +Having solved the mystery of the failure of the relief party, I +returned to my platoon. Their first stopping place had proved +untenable. All day they had been subjected to a merciless and +devastating shelling, and their first day of war had cost them +sixty-five men. They were now dug in in a new and safer position. They +were only waiting for darkness to advance to reinforce the firing line +that was now about four miles ahead. Since to get to our firing line +we had to cross the dried-up bed of a salt lake, no move could be +made in daylight. That evening we received our ration of rum, and +formed up silently in a long line two deep, beside our dugouts. I fell +in with my section, beside Art Pratt, the sandy-haired chap I had met +in Aldershot. He had been cleaning his rifle that afternoon when a +shell landed right in his dugout, wounded the man next him, knocked +the bolt of the rifle out of his hand, but left him unhurt. He +accepted it as an omen that he would come out all right, and was +grinning delightedly while he confided to me his narrow escape, and +was as happy as a schoolboy at the thought of getting into action. + +Under cover of darkness we moved away silently, until we came to the +border of the Salt Lake. Here we extended, and crossed it in open +order, then through three miles of knee high, prickly underbrush, to +where our division was entrenched. Our orders were to reinforce the +Irish. The Irish sadly needed reinforcing. Some of them had been on +the Peninsula for months. Many of them are still there. From the beach +to the firing line is not over four miles, but it is a ghastly four +miles of graveyard. Everywhere along the route are small wooden +crosses, mute record of advances. Where the crosses are thickest, +there the fighting was fiercest; and where the fighting was fiercest, +there were the Irish. On every cross, besides a man's name and the +date of his death, is the name of his regiment. No other regiments +have so many crosses as the Dublins and the Munsters. And where the +shrapnel flew so fast that bodies mangled beyond hope of identity were +buried in a common grave, there also are the Dublins and the Munsters; +and the cross over them reads, "In Memory of Unknown Comrades." + +The line on the left was held by the Twenty-ninth Division; the +Dublins, the Munsters, the King's Own Scottish Borderers, and the +Newfoundlanders made up the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Newfoundlanders +were reinforcements. From the very first day of the Gallipoli +campaign, the other three regiments had formed part of what General +Sir Ian Hamilton in his report calls "The incomparable Twenty-ninth +Division." When the first landing was made, this division, with the +New Zealanders, penetrated to the top of Achi Baba, the hill that +commanded the Narrows. For forty-eight hours the result was in doubt. +The British attacked with bayonet and bombs, were driven back, and +repeatedly reattacked. The New Zealanders finally succeeded in +reaching the top, followed by the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Irish +fought on the tracks of a railroad that leads into Constantinople. At +the end of forty-eight hours of attacks and counter attacks, the +position was considered secure. The worn-out soldiers were relieved +and went into dugouts. Then the relieving troops were attacked by an +overwhelming hostile force, and the hill was lost. A battery placed on +that hill could have shelled the Narrows and opened to our ships the +way to Constantinople. The hill was never retaken. When reinforcements +came up it was too late. The reinforcements lost their way. In his +report, General Hamilton attributes our defeat to "fatal inertia." +Just how fatal was that inertia was known only to those who formed +some of the burial parties. + + [Illustration: Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing + beach] + +After the first forty-eight hours we settled down to regular trench +warfare. The routine was four days in the trenches, eight days in rest +dugouts, four days in the trenches again, and so forth, although three +or four months later our ranks were so depleted that we stayed in +eight days and rested only four. We had expected four days' rest +after our first trip to the firing line, but at the end of two days +came word of a determined advance of the enemy. We arrived just in +time to beat it off. Our trenches instead of being at the top were at +the foot of the hill that meant so much to us. + +The ground here was a series of four or five hog-back ridges, about a +hundred yards apart. Behind these towered the hill that was our +objective. From the nearest ridge, about seven hundred yards in front +of us, the Turks had all that day constantly issued in mass formation. +During that attack we were repaid for the havoc wrought by Beachy +Bill. As soon as the Turks topped the crest, they were subjected to a +demoralizing rain of shell from the navy and from our artillery. +Against the hazy blue of the skyline we could see the dark mass +clearly silhouetted. Every few seconds, when a shell landed in the +middle of the approaching columns, the sides of the column would bulge +outward for an instant, then close in again. Meanwhile, every man in +our trenches stood on the firing platform, head and shoulders above +the parapet, with fixed bayonet and loaded rifle, waiting for the +order to begin firing. Still the Turks came on, big, black, +bewhiskered six footers, reforming ranks and filling up their gaps +with fresh men. Now they were only six hundred yards away. But still +there was no order to open fire. It was uncanny. At five hundred yards +our fire was still withheld. When the order came, "At four hundred +yards, rapid fire," everybody was tingling with excitement. Still the +Turks came on, magnificently determined, but it was too desperate a +venture. The chances against them were too great, our artillery and +machine gun fire too destructively accurate. Some few Turks reached +almost to our trenches, only to be stopped by rifle bullets. "Allah! +Allah!" yelled the Turks, as they came on. A sweating, grimly happy +machine gun sergeant was shouting to the Turkish army in general, +"It's not a damn bit of good to yell to Allah now." Our artillery +opened huge gaps in their lines, our machine guns piled them dead in +the ranks where they stood. Our own casualties were very slight; but +of the waves of Turks that surged over the crest all that day, only a +mere shattered remnant ever straggled back to their own lines. + +That was the last big attack the Turks made. From that time on, it +was virtually two armies in a state of siege. That was the first night +the Newfoundlanders went into the trenches as a unit. A and B +Companies held the firing line, C and D were in the support trenches. +Before that, they filled up gaps in the Dublins or in the Munsters, or +in the King's Own Scottish Borderers. These regiments were our tutors. +Mostly they were composed of veterans who had put in years of training +in Egypt or in India. The Irish were jolly, laughing men with a soft +brogue, and an amazing sense of humor. The Scotch were dour, silent +men, who wasted few words. Some of the Scotchmen were young fellows +who had been recruited in Scotland after war broke out. One of these +chaps shared my watch with me the first night. At dark, sentry groups +were formed, three reliefs of two men each; these two men stood with +their heads over the parapet watching for any movement in the no man's +land between the lines; that accounts for the surprisingly large +number of men one sees wounded in the head. The Scottie and I stood +close enough together to carry on a conversation in whispers. It +turned out that he had been training in Scotland at the same camp +where the Newfoundlanders were. He had been on the Peninsula since +April, and was all in from dysentery and lack of food. "Nae meat," was +the laconic way he expressed it. Like every Scotchman since the world +began, he answered to the name of "Mac." He pointed out to me the +position of the enemy trenches. + +"It's just aboot fower hundred yairds," he said, "but you'll no get a +chance to fire; there's wurrkin' pairties oot the nicht." Then as an +afterthought, he added gloomily, "There's no chance of your gettin' +hit either." + +"Why," I asked him in astonishment, "you don't want to get hit, do +you?" + +Mac looking at me pityingly. "Man," he burst out, "when ye're here as +long as I've been here, ye'll be prayin' fer a 'Blighty one.'" + +Blighty is the Tommies' nickname for London, and a "Blighty one" is a +wound that's serious enough to cause your return to London. + +For a few minutes Mac continued looking over the parapet. Without +turning his head, he said to me: "I'll gie ye five poond, if ye'll +shoot me through the airm or the fut." When a Scotchman who is getting +only a shilling a day offers you five pounds, it is for something +very desirable. Before I had a chance to take him up on this handsome +offer, my attention was attracted by the appearance of a light just a +little in front of where Mac had said the enemy trench was located. I +grabbed my gun excitedly. + +"Dinna fire, lad," cautioned Mac. "We have a wurrkin' pairty oot just +in front. Ye would na hit anything if ye did. 'Tis only wastin' +bullets to fire at night." + +For almost an hour I continued to watch the light as it moved about. +It was a party of Turks, Mac explained, seeking their dead for burial. +When I was relieved for a couple of hours' sleep they were still +there. + +Just where I was posted, the trench was traversed; that is, from the +parapet there ran at right angles, for about six feet, a barricade of +sandbags, that formed the upright line of a figure T. The angle made +by this traverse gave some protection from the wind that swept through +the trench. Here I spread my blanket. The night was bitterly cold, and +I shivered for lack of an overcoat. In coming away hurriedly from +London, I did not take an overcoat with me. In Egypt, it had never +occurred to me that I should need one in Gallipoli; and the chance to +get one I had lost. But I was too weary to let even the cold keep me +awake. In a few minutes I was as sound asleep as if I had been far +from all thought of war or trenches. + +It seemed to me that I had just got to sleep when I was awakened by a +hand shaking my shoulder roughly, and by a voice shouting, "Stand to, +laddie." It was Mac. I jumped to my feet, rubbing my eyes. + +"What's the matter?" I asked. + +"Nothing's the matter," said Mac. "Every morning at daybreak ye stand +to airms for an hour." + +I looked along the trench. Every man stood on the firing platform with +his bayonet fixed. Daybreak and just about sunset are the times +attacks are most likely to take place. At those times the greatest +precautions are taken. Dawn was just purpling the range of hills +directly in front when word came, "Day duties commence." Periscopes +were served out, and placed about ten feet apart along the trench. +These are plain oblong tubes of tin, three by six inches, about two +feet high. They contain an arrangement of double mirrors, one at the +top, and one at the bottom. The top mirror slants backward, and +reflects objects in front of it. The one at the bottom slants forward, +and reflects the image caught by the top mirror. In the daytime, by +using a periscope, a sentry can keep his head below the top of the +parapet, while he watches the ground in front. Sometimes, however, a +bullet strikes one of the mirrors, and the splintered glass blinds the +sentry. It is not an uncommon thing to see a man go to the hospital +with his face badly lacerated by periscope glass. + +During the daytime, the men who were not watching worked at different +"fatigues." Parapets had to be fixed up, trenches deepened, drains and +dumps dug, and bomb-proof shelters had to be constructed for the +officers. Every few minutes the Turkish batteries opened fire on us, +but with very poor success. The navy and our land batteries replied, +with what effect we could not tell. Once or twice I put my head up +higher than the parapet. Each time I did, I heard the ping of a +bullet, as it whizzed past my ear. Once a sniper put five at me in +rapid succession. Every one was within a few inches of me, but +fortunately on the outside of the parapet. Just before landing in +Egypt, we had been served out with large white helmets to protect us +from the sun. It did not take us very long to discover that on the +Peninsula of Gallipoli these were veritable death traps. Against the +landscape they loomed as large as tents; they were simply invitations +to the enemy snipers. We soon discarded them for our service caps. The +hot sun of a Turkish summer bored down on us, adding to the torment of +parched throats and tongues. We were suffering very much from lack of +water. The first night we went into the firing line we were issued +about a pint of water for each man. It was a week before we got a +fresh supply. We had not yet had time to get properly organized, and +our only food was hard biscuits, apricot jam, and bully beef; a pretty +good ration under ordinary conditions, but, without water, most +unpalatable. The flies, too, bothered us incessantly. As soon as a man +spread some jam on his biscuits, the flies swarmed upon it, and before +he could get it to his mouth it was black with the pests. + + [Illustration: A remarkable view of a landing party in the + Dardanelles] + +These were not the only drawbacks. Directly in front of our trenches +lay a lot of corpses, Turks who had been killed in the last attack. In +front of the line of about two hundred yards held by B Company there +were six or seven hundred of them. We could not get out to bury them, +nor could we afford to allow the enemy to do so. There they stayed, +and some of the hordes of flies that continually hovered about them, +with every change of wind, swept down into our trenches, carrying to +our food the germs of dysentery, enteric, and all the foul diseases +that threaten men in the tropics. + +After two days of this life, we were relieved and moved back about two +miles to the reserve dugouts for a rest, to get something to eat, and +depopulate our underwear; for the trenches where we slept harbored not +only rats but vermin and all manner of things foul. + +The regiment that relieved us was an English regiment, the Essex. They +were some of "Kitchener's Army." We stood down off the parapet, and +the Englishmen took our places. Then with our entire equipment on our +backs we started our hegira. We had about four miles to go, two down +through the front line trenches, then two more through winding, narrow +communication trenches, almost to the edge of the Salt Lake. Here in +the partial shelter afforded by a small hill were our dugouts. In +Gallipoli there was no attempt at the ambitious dugout one hears of +on the Western front. Our dugouts resembled more nearly than anything +else newly made graves. Usually one sought a large rock and made a +dugout at the foot of it. The soil of the Peninsula lent itself +readily to dugout construction. It is a moist, spongy clay, of the +consistency of thick mortar. A pickax turns up large chunks of it; +these are placed around the sides. A few hours' sun dries out the +moisture, and leaves them as hard and solid as concrete. + +While we had been in the firing line, another regiment had made some +dugouts. There were four rows of them, one for each company. B +Company's were nearest the beach. We filed slowly down the line, until +we came to the end. A dugout was assigned to every two men. I shared +one with a chap named Stenlake. We spread our blankets, put our packs +under our heads, and for the first time for a week, took off our +boots. Before going to sleep, Stenlake and I chatted for a while. When +war broke out, he told me, he had been a missionary in Newfoundland. +He offered as chaplain, and was accepted and given a commission as +captain. Later some difficulty arose. The regiment was made up of +three or four different denominations, about equally divided. Each one +wanted its own chaplain, which was expensive; so they decided to have +no chaplain. Stenlake immediately resigned his commission, and +enlisted as a private. + +Our whisperings were interrupted by a voice from the next dugout. "You +had better get to sleep as soon as you can, boys; you have a hard day +before you, to-morrow." It was Mr. Nunns, the lieutenant in command of +our platoon. Casting aside all caste prejudice, he was sleeping in the +midst of his men, in the first dugout he had found empty. He could +have detailed some men to build him an elaborate dugout, but he +preferred to be with his "boys." The English officers of the old +school claim that this sort of thing hurts discipline. If they had +seen the prompt and cheerful way in which No. 8 platoon obeyed Mr. +Nunns' orders, they would have been enlightened. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +TRENCHES + + +Somebody has said that a change of occupation is a rest. Whoever sent +us into dugouts for a rest, evidently had this definition in mind. +After breakfast the first morning we were ordered out for digging +fatigue just behind the firing line. In this there was one +consolation. We did not have to carry our packs. Each man took his +rifle and either a pick or a shovel. Communication trenches had to be +dug to avoid long tramps through the firing line; and connecting +trenches had to be made between the existing communication trenches. +While we were in dugouts we had eight hours of this work out of every +twenty-four; four hours in the daytime and four at night. + +The second day in dugouts when we came back from our morning's +digging, we found some new arrivals making some dugouts about two +hundred yards behind our lines. They were Territorials, who correspond +to the militia in the United States. "The London Terriers," they +called themselves. Mostly they were young fellows from eighteen to +twenty-two years old. They had landed only that morning and were in +splendid condition, and very eager for the coming of evening when they +were to go to the firing line. The ground they had selected was +sheltered from observation by the little ridge near our line of +dugouts; but some of our men in moving about attracted the attention +of the Turkish artillery observer. Instantly half a dozen shells came +over the ridge, past our line, and bang! right in the midst of the +Londons, working fearful destruction. Every ten or fifteen minutes +after that, the Turks sent over some shells. Some regiments are lucky, +others seem to walk into destruction everywhere they turn. The shells +fired at the Newfoundlanders landed in the Londons. About two minutes' +walk from our dugouts our cooks had built a fire and were preparing +meals. A number of our men passed continually between our line and the +cooks'. Not one of them was even scratched. The only two of the +Londons who ventured there were hit; one fellow was killed instantly, +the other, seriously wounded through the lungs, lay moaning where he +had fallen. It was just dusk, and nobody knew he had been hit until +one of our men, coming down, heard his hoarse whispering request to +"get a doctor, for God's sake get a doctor." While somebody ran for +the doctor, our stretcher bearers responded to the all too familiar +shout, "Stretcher bearers at the double," but by the time they reached +him he was beyond all need of doctor or stretcher bearers. Before the +London Terriers even saw the firing line, they lost over two hundred +men. They simply could not escape the Turkish shells. The enemy had a +habit of sending over one shell, then waiting just a minute or less, +and following it with another. The first shell generally wounded two +or three men; the second one was sent over to catch the stretcher +bearers and the comrades who hastened to aid those who were hit. +Before they had completed their dugouts, the shrapnel caught them in +the open; after they were dug in, it buried them alive. Never did a +regiment leave dugouts with so much joy as did the London Terriers +when they entered the trenches for the first time. Ordinarily a man is +much safer in the firing line than in rest dugouts. Trenches are so +constructed that even when a shell drops right in the traverse where +men are, only half a dozen or so suffer. In open or slightly protected +ground where the dugouts are, the burst of a shrapnel shell covers an +area twenty-five by two hundred yards in extent. + +A shell can be heard coming. Experts claim to identify the caliber of +a gun by the sound the shell makes. Few live long enough to become +such experts. In Gallipoli the average length of life was three weeks. +In dugouts we always ate our meals, such as they were, to the +accompaniment of "Turkish Delight," the Newfoundlanders' name for +shrapnel. We had become accustomed to rifle bullets. When you hear the +zing of a spent bullet or the sharp crack of an explosive, you know it +has passed you. The one that hits you, you never hear. At first we +dodged at the sound of a passing bullet, but soon we came actually to +believe the superstition that a bullet would not hit a man unless it +had on it his regimental number and his name. Then, too, a bullet +leaves a clean wound, and a man hit by it drops out quietly. The +shrapnel makes nasty, jagged, hideous wounds, the horrible +recollection of which lingers for days in the minds of those who see +them. It is little wonder that we preferred the firing line. + + [Illustration: Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, + using the periscope + Note the different shaped hats worn by the men, five kinds + appearing in the little group] + +Every afternoon from just behind our line of dugouts an aëroplane +buzzed up. At the tremendous height it looked like an immense +blue-bottle fly. We always knew when it was two o'clock. Promptly at +that hour every afternoon it winged its way over us and beyond to the +Turkish trenches. At first the enemy's aëroplanes came out to meet +ours, but a few encounters with our men soon convinced them of the +futility of such attempts. After that, they relied on their artillery. +In the air all around the tiny speck we could see white puffs of smoke +that showed where their shrapnel was exploding. Sometimes those puffs +were perilously close to it; at such times our hearts were in our +mouths. Everybody in the trench craned his neck to see. When our +aëroplane manoeuvered clear, you could hear a sigh of relief from +every man. + +After about the eighth day in dugouts we were ordered back to the +firing line. We had to take over a part of the trench near Anafarta +Village. In this vicinity the Fifth Norfolks, a company formed of men +from the King's estate at Sandringham, had charged into the woods, +about two hundred and fifty strong, and had been completely lost sight +of. This was the most comfortable trench we had yet been in. It had +been taken over from the Turks, and when we faced toward them we had +to build another firing platform. This left their firing platform for +us to sleep on. After the cramped, narrow trenches of the first couple +of weeks, this roomy trench was very pleasant. On both sides of the +trench were some trees that threw a grateful shade in the daytime. +Along the edge grew little bushes that bore luscious blackberries, but +to attempt to get them was courting death. Nevertheless, the +Newfoundlanders secured a good many. Best of all though was the "Block +House Well." For the first time we had a plenitude of water. But by +this time conditions had begun to tell on the men. Each morning more +and more men reported for sick parade. They were beginning to feel the +enervating effect of the climate, and of the lack of water and proper +food. While we were intrenched near the block house, the men were +sickening so fast that in our platoon we had not enough men to form +the sentry groups. The noncommissioned officers had to take their +place on the parapet, and the ordinary work of the noncoms, changing +sentries, waking reliefs, and detailing working parties had to be done +by the commissioned officers. Just about an hour before my turn to +watch, I was suddenly stricken by the fever that lurks on the +Peninsula. In the army, no man is sick unless so pronounced by the +medical officer. Each morning at nine there is a sick parade. A man +taken ill after that has to wait until the next morning, and is +officially fit for duty. My turn came at eleven o'clock at night. The +man I was to relieve was Frank Lind. He went on at nine. When eleven +o'clock came, I was burning up with fever. Lind would not hear of my +being roused to relieve him, but continued on the parapet until one +o'clock, although in that part of the trench snipers had been doing a +lot of execution. Then he rested for a couple of hours and at three +o'clock resumed his place on the parapet for the remainder of the +night. At daybreak he was still there. I slept all through the night, +exhausted by the fever, and it was not till a few days after that some +one else told me what Lind had done. From him I heard no mention of +it. Whenever somebody says that war serves only to bring out the +worst in a man I think of Frank Lind. The fever that had weakened me +so, continued all that day. I reported for sick parade and was given a +day off duty. The next day I was given light duty, and the following +day the fever left me and that night I was fit for duty again, and was +sent out to a detached post about halfway between us and the enemy. +The detached post was an abandoned house about twenty feet square. All +the doors and windows had been torn out, and now it was nothing but +the merest skeleton of a house. We had been there about three hours +when there occurred something most extraordinary and unaccountable. It +was a pitch dark night, and working parties were out from both sides. +Ordinarily there would have been no firing. Suddenly from away on the +right where the Australians were, began the sharp crackling of rapid +fire. A boy pulling a wooden stick along an iron park railing makes +almost the same sound. The crackling swept down the line right past +the trench directly behind us and away on to the left. The Turks, +fearing an attack, replied. Between the two fires we were caught. +There were eight of us in the blockhouse. Only two of us came from No. +8 platoon, Art Pratt, my sandy-haired friend of Aldershot days, and I. +The sergeant in charge was from another platoon. When the rapid fire +began, he became melodramatic. He had the responsibility of seven +other men's lives, and the thing that seemed rather comic to us was +probably very serious to him. There was nothing the matter, though, +with the way in which he handled the situation. There were eight +openings in the house for the missing doors and windows. At each +window he placed a man, and stood at the door himself, then ordered us +to fill our magazines and fix our bayonets. But psychologically he +made a mistake. He turned to me and said, + +"Corporal, we're in a pretty tight place. We may have to sell our +lives dearly. I want every man to stand by me. Will you stand by me?" + +When the thing had started I had just experienced a pleasant tingle of +excitement, but at this view of the situation I felt a little serious. +Before I had a chance to reply Art Pratt relieved the situation by +shouting, + +"Did you say stand by you? I'll stand by this window and I'll bayonet +the first damn Turk I see." + +There was a general laugh and the moment of tension passed. In a few +minutes the exchange of rapid fire died down as suddenly as it had +started. The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Just before +daybreak we returned to our platoons. + +We never found out the reason for the sudden exchange of rapid fire. +Some Australians away on the right had started it. Everybody had +joined in, as the firing ran along the line of trenches. As soon as +the officers began an investigation it was stopped. + +It seems to me that most of the time we were in the blockhouse trench +we spent our nights out between the lines. Most of our work was done +at night. When we wished to advance our line, we sent forward a +platoon of men the desired distance. Every man carried with him three +empty sandbags and his intrenching tool. Temporary protection is +secured at short notice by having every man dig a hole in the ground +that is large and deep enough to allow him to lie flat in it. The +intrenching tool is a miniature pickax, one end of which resembles a +large bladed hoe with a sharpened and tempered edge. The pick end is +used to loosen hard material and to break up large lumps; the other +end is used as a shovel to throw up the dirt. When used in this +fashion the wooden handle is laid aside, the pick end becomes a +handle, and the intrenching tool is used in the same manner as a +trowel. The whole instrument is not over a foot long, and is carried +in the equipment. + +Lying on our stomachs, our rifles close at hand, we dug furiously. +First we loosened up enough earth in front of our heads to fill a +sandbag. This sandbag we placed beside our heads on the side nearest +the enemy. Out in no man's land with bullets from rifle and machine +guns pattering about us, we did fast work. As soon as we had filled +the second and third sandbags we placed them on top of the first. In +Gallipoli every other military necessity was subordinated to +concealment. Often we could complete a trench and occupy it before the +enemy knew of it. In the daytime our aëroplanes kept their aërial +observers from coming out to find any work we had done during the +night. Sometimes while we were digging, the Turks surprised us by +sending up star shells. They burst like rockets high overhead. +Everything was outlined in a strange, uncanny light that gave the +effect of stage fire. At first, when a man saw a star shell, he +dropped flat on his face; but after a good many men had been riddled +by bullets, we saw our mistake. The sudden, blinding glare makes it +impossible to identify objects before the light fades. Star shells +show only movement. The first stir between the lines becomes the +target for both sides. So, after that, even when a man was standing +upright, he simply stood still. + + [Illustration: First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along + parallel to the Turkish trenches which are not thirty yards + distant] + +After the block-house trench, our next move was to a part of the +firing line that I have never been able to identify. It was very close +to the Turks, and in this spot we lost a large number of men. From one +point, a narrow sap or rough trench ran out at right angles very close +to the Turkish position. It may have been twenty-five or thirty yards +away. To hold this sap was very important; if the Turks took it, it +gave them a commanding position. About twenty men were in it all the +time, four or five of them bomb throwers. The men holding this sap at +the time we were there were the Irish, the Dublin Fusiliers or, as +we knew them, the Dubs. The Turks made several attempts to take it, +but were repulsed. When our men were not on sentry duty, several of +them spent their rest hours out in this sap, talking to the Dubs. The +Dubs were interesting talkers. They had been in the thing from the +beginning, and spoke of the landings with laughter and a fierce joy of +slaughter. Most of them had been on the Western front before coming to +Gallipoli. From the Turkish trenches directly in front of this sap, +the enemy signaled the effect of our shots. They used the same signals +that we used in target practice, waving a stick back and forth to +indicate outers, inners, magpies, and bull's-eyes. Whoever did it, had +a sense of humor; because as soon as he became tired, he took down the +stick for an instant, then raised it again and waved it back and forth +derisively, with a large red German sausage on the end of it. This did +not seem to bear out very well the tales that the enemy was slowly +starving to death. Prisoners who surrendered from time to time told us +that at any moment the entire Turkish army might surrender, as they +were very short of food. One thing we did know: the Turks felt the +lack of shoes; out between the lines we found numbers of our dead with +the boots cut off. + +While we were in this place the Turks dug to within ten or twelve +yards of us before they were discovered. One of the Dublins saw them +first. He seized some bombs, and jumped out, shouting, "Look at Johnny +Turrk. Let's bomb him to hell out of it." But Johnny Turk was +obstinate; he stayed where he was in spite of our bombs. One of our +fellows, the big chap whom I had heard at Aldershot complaining about +being asked for his name and number, had crawled into the sap. He made +his way through the smoke and dirt to the end of the sap where only a +few yards separated him from the Turks. In one item of armament the +British beat the Turks. We use bombs that explode three seconds after +they are thrown; the Turks' don't explode for five seconds. The +difference of only two seconds seems slight, but that day in the +sap-head it was of great importance. For a short while the supply of +bombs for our side ran out. The man who was trying to get the cover +off a box of them found difficulty in doing it. The men in the +sap-head were without bombs. Meanwhile the Turks kept up an +uninterrupted throwing of bombs. Most of them landed in the sap. The +big Newfoundlander who had crawled out looking for excitement found +it. As soon as the supply of bombs ran out, instead of getting back +into safety, he stood his ground. The first bomb that came over +dropped close to him. He was swearing softly, and his face was glowing +with pleasure. He bent down coolly, picked up the bomb and threw it +back over the parapet at the Turks who had sent it. With our bombs he +could not have done it, but the extra two seconds were just enough. +Five or six of the bombs came in and were treated in the same way, +before our supply was resumed. A brigade officer, who had come out +into the sap, stood gazing awe-struck at the big Newfoundlander. +Open-mouthed, with monocle in hand, the officer was the picture of +amazement. At last he spoke, with that slow, impersonal English drawl: + +"I say, my man, what is your name and number." + +The look on the Newfoundlander's face was a study. He knew he should +not have come out into that sap, and every time that question had been +shot at him before it had meant a reprimand. At last he shrugged his +shoulders, then with a resigned expression, answered the officer in a +fashion not entirely confined to Newfoundlanders--by asking a +question: "What in hell have I done now?" + +Without a word the officer turned on his heel and left the sap. The +big fellow waited until he felt the officer was well out of sight, +then departed for his proper place in the trench. One of the Dubs +looking after him, said to me: + +"There's a man that would have been recommended for a Distinguished +Conduct Medal if he'd answered that officer right." + +That Irishman was a man of wide experience. + +"I've been seventeen years in the army, and I've been in every war +that England fought in that time," said he, "and I'll tell you now, +the real Distinguished Conduct Medal men and the real V.C. heroes +never get them. They're under the ground." Coming from the man it did, +this expression of opinion was interesting, for he was Cooke, the man +who had been given a Distinguished Conduct Medal for his work on the +Western front. Since coming to the Peninsula he had been acting as a +sharpshooter, and had been recommended for the V.C., the Victoria +Cross, which is the highest reward for valor in the British army. He +was only waiting then, for word to go to London, to get the cross +pinned on by the King. + +"There's one man on this Peninsula," continued Cooke, "who's won the +V.C. fifty times over; that's the donkey-man." + +The man Cooke meant was an Australian, a stretcher-bearer. His real +name was Simpson, but nobody ever called him that. Because he was of +Irish descent, the Australians, who dearly love nicknames, called him +Murphy, or, Moriarty, or Dooley, or whatever Irish name first occurred +to them. More generally, though, he was called the Man with the +Donkey, and by this name he was known all over the Peninsula. In the +early days, the Anzacs had captured some booty from the Turks and in +it were some donkeys. It was in the strenuous time when men lay in all +sorts of inaccessible places, dying and sorely wounded, Simpson in +those days seemed everywhere. As soon as he heard of the capture he +went down, looked appraisingly over the donkeys, and commandeered two +of them. On one donkey he painted F.A. No. 1, and on the other, F.A. +No. 2; F.A. being his abbreviation for Field Ambulance. Day and night +after that Simpson could be seen going about among the wounded, here +giving a man first aid, there loosening the equipment and making +easier the last few minutes for some poor fellow too far gone to need +any medical care. The wounded men who could not walk or limp down to +the dressing station he carried down, one on each of the donkeys and +one on his back or in his arms. He talked to the donkeys as they +plodded slowly along, in a strange mixture of English, Arabic +profanity, and Australian slang. Many an Australian or New Zealander +who has never heard of Simpson remembers gratefully the attentions of +a strangely gentle man who drove before him two small gray donkeys +each of which carried a wounded soldier. In Australia long after this +war is over men will thrill at the mention of the Man with the Donkey. +I agreed with Cooke that this man had won the V.C. fifty times over. + +Cooke was going out that night, he told me, to stay for three or four +days, sniping, between the lines. As soon as he came back he expected +to go to London. + +"Before I go out," he said, "I'll show you a good place where you can +get a shot at Abdul Pasha." + +I followed Cooke out through the sap and up the trench a little way to +where it turned sharply to avoid a large boulder. Just in front of +this boulder was some short, prickly underbrush. Cooke parted the +bushes cautiously with his hand, and motioned me to come closer. I did +and through the opening he pointed out the enemy trench about four +hundred yards away, and about thirty yards in front of it a little +clump of bushes. + +"Just in front of those bushes," said Cooke, "there's a sniper's +dugout. Keep your eyes open to-morrow and you ought to get some of +them." + +I noted the place for the next day, and walked down to the sap with +Cooke. There I shook hands with him, wished him good luck, and +returned to my platoon. + +That night I had to go out on listening patrol between the lines. At +one o'clock my turn came. An Irish sergeant came along the trench for +me to guide me out to the listening post. I went with him a short +distance along the trench, picked up four others, then with a +shoulder from a comrade, we got over the parapet. The listening post +was about a hundred yards away. We had gone only a few yards when we +heard firing coming from that direction, first one shot followed by +twenty or thirty in quick succession, then silence. A man stumbled out +of the darkness immediately in front of us. He was panting and +excited. It was a messenger from the corporal that we were going to +relieve. He had been walking along without the least suspicion of +danger when he had run full tilt into a party of fifteen or sixteen of +the enemy. He had dropped down immediately and yelled to one of his +men to go back to the trench with word. We followed the panting +messenger to the post. The enemy had now disappeared. We opened rapid +fire in the direction in which they had gone. Evidently it was right, +for in a few seconds they returned it, wounding one man. For about +five minutes we kept up firing, with what success we could not tell, +but at any rate we had the satisfaction of driving off a superior +force. Those two hours straining through the darkness were not +particularly pleasant. I did not know what moment or from what +direction the enemy might come, and I knew that if he did come it +would be in force. Apparently the whole thing was unplanned, because +during the remainder of my two hours, although I peered unceasingly in +all directions, I could see nothing, nor could I hear the slightest +sound. Evidently Johnny Turk was willing to let well enough alone. +That night when I returned to the trench I was told that the next +night at dark we were to go into dugouts. + +Ordinarily the thought of dugouts was distasteful, but it seemed years +since I had taken my boots off. Our platoon had lost heavily, mostly +from disease. All the novelty had worn off the trench life. Instead of +six noncoms, there were only three. Each of us was doing the work of +two men. Our ration had been the eternal bully beef, biscuit, and jam. +Our cooks did their best to make it palatable by cooking the beef in +stew with some desiccated vegetables, but these were hard and +tasteless. Most of us had got to the stage where the very sight of jam +made us sick. That night, looking down through the ravine, I saw, +winking and blinking cheerfully, the only light that brightened the +Stygian darkness, the Red Cross of the hospital ships. I have wondered +since if the entrance to heaven is illuminated with an electric Red +Cross. There was not a man in the whole battalion who was really fit. +Most of them had had a touch of one or more of the prevalent diseases. + +Stenlake, the young clergyman, who had been my dugout mate, was +scarcely able to drag himself about the trench. And by this time we +had the weather to contend with. It was nearing the middle of October, +and the rainy season was almost upon us. Occasionally the sky darkened +up to a heavy grayness that seemed to cover everything as with a pall. +Following this came heavy, sudden squalls that swept through the +trenches, drenching everything, and tearing blankets and equipments +with them. Although the sun still continued to bore down unremittingly +in the daytime, the nights had become bitterly cold, and to the +tropical diseases were added rheumatism and pneumonia. On the men from +Newfoundland the climate was especially telling. We had ceased to +wonder at the crowd of men who reported sick each morning, and simply +marveled that the number was not greater. + +All over the Peninsula disease had become epidemic until the clearing +stations and the beaches were choked with sick. The time we should +have been sleeping was spent in digging, but still the men worked +uncomplainingly. Some, too game to quit, would not report to the +doctor, working on courageously until they dropped, although down in +the bay beckoned the Red Cross of the hospital ship, with its +assurance of cleanliness, rest, and safety. By sickness and snipers' +bullets we were losing thirty men a day. Nobody in the front line +trenches or on the shell-swept area behind ever expected to leave the +Peninsula alive. Their one hope was to get off wounded. Every night +men leaving the trenches to bring up rations from the beach shook +hands with their comrades. From every ration party of twenty men we +always counted on losing two. Those who were wounded were looked on as +lucky. The best thing we could wish a man was a "cushy wound," one +that would not prove fatal, or a "Blighty one." But no one wanted to +quit. Men hung on till the last minute. Often it was not till a man +dropped exhausted that we learned from his comrades that he had not +eaten for days. The only men in my platoon who seemed to be nearly fit +were Art Pratt, and a young chap named Hayes. Art seemed to be +enjoying the life thoroughly. He went about the trench, cheerfully, +grinning and whistling, putting heart into the others. Whenever there +was any specially dangerous work to be done, Art always volunteered. +He spent more time out between the lines than in the trench. Whenever +a specially reliable, cool man was needed, Art was selected. Young +Hayes was a small chap who had been in my platoon at Stob's Camp in +Scotland. He had made a record for being absent from parade, and was +always in trouble for minor offenses. I took him in hand and did my +best to keep him out of trouble. Out in the trenches he remembered it, +and followed me around like a shadow. Whenever I was sent in charge of +a fatigue party he always volunteered. The men all did their best to +make the work of the noncoms easy. As a study in the effects of +colonial discipline it would have been enlightening for some of the +English officers. The men called their corporals and sergeants, Jack, +or Bill, or Mac, but there never was the slightest question about +obeying an order. Everybody knew that everybody else was overworked +and underfed, and every man tried to give as little trouble as +possible. Such conduct from the Newfoundlanders was astonishing, as +in training they simply loved to make trouble for the noncoms, and the +most unenviable job in the regiment was that of corporal or sergeant. + +Such were the conditions the next afternoon when we moved from the +firing trench to rest near some dugouts that had been forsaken by the +Royal Scots. They had been relieved, some said, to go to the island of +Imbros, about fifteen miles away, for a rest. At Imbros, rumor said, +you could buy, in the canteen, eggs and butter, and other heavenly +things that we had almost forgotten the taste of. At Imbros, too, you +were free from shell fire, and drilled every day just as you did in +training. It was whispered, too, but scornfully discredited, that +Imbros boasted shower baths, and ovens for the disinfecting of +clothing. Others claimed that the Royal Scots had been withdrawn from +the Peninsula and were going to the Western front. They were the first +regiment to leave of the Twenty-ninth Division. The whole division was +to be withdrawn gradually. The Twenty-ninth was our division, and we +were to go with it to England. We were to winter in Scotland and after +we had been recruited up to full strength were to go to France in the +spring. An examination of the empty dugouts strengthened this belief. +Blankets, rubber sheets, belts, pieces of equipment, and even +overcoats were lying around. In one of the dugouts I found a copy of +the Odyssey, and half a dozen other books. A few dugouts away I came +upon one of our fellows gazing regretfully upon an empty whisky +bottle. As I approached him, I overheard him murmur abstractedly, "My +favorite brand too, my favorite brand." I passed on without +interrupting him. It was too sacred a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DUGOUTS + + +The afternoon sun poured down steadily on little groups of men +preparing dugouts for habitation. I had a good many details to attend +to before I could look about for a suitable place for a dugout. Men +had to be told off for different fatigues. Men for pick and shovel +work that night were placed in sections so that each group would get +as much sleep as possible. All the available dugouts had been taken up +by the first comers. The location here was particularly well suited +for dugouts. A mule path to the beach ran along the bottom of a narrow +ravine. On one side of the path the ground shelved gradually up till +it merged into a plain, covered with long grass, overgrown and +neglected. On the other side, a ridge sloped up sharply and formed a +natural protection before it also merged into a "gorse" covered +plateau. Small evergreen bushes served the double purpose of hiding +our movements from the enemy and affording some shade from the +broiling sun. At the foot of the ridge we made our line of dugouts. +The angle of the ridge was so steep that an enemy shell could not +possibly drop on our dugouts. A little further away some of A +Company's dugouts were in the danger zone. After much hunting, I found +a likely looking place. It was about seven feet square, and where I +planned to put the head of my dugout a large boulder squatted. It was +so eminently suitable that I wondered that no one else had preëmpted +it. I took off my equipment, threw my coat on the ground, and began +digging. It was soft ground and gave easily. + +A short distance away, I could see Art Pratt, digging. He was finding +it hard work to make any impression. He saw me, stopped to mop his +brow, and grinned cheerfully. + +"You should take soft ground like this, Art," I yelled. + +"I've gone so far now," said Art, "that it's too late to change," and +we resumed our work. + +After a few more minutes' digging, my pick struck something that felt +like the root of a tree, but I knew there was no tree on that +God-forsaken spot large enough to send out big roots. I +disentangled the pick and dug a little more, only to find the same +obstruction. I took my small intrenching tool, scraped away the dirt I +had dug, and began cleaning away near the base of a big boulder. There +were no roots there, and gradually I worked away from it. I took my +pick again, and at the first blow it stuck. Without trying to +disengage it I began straining at it. In a few seconds it began to +give, and I withdrew it. Clinging to it was part of a Turkish uniform, +from which dangled and rattled the dried-up bones of a skeleton. +Nauseated, I hurriedly filled in the place, and threw myself on the +ground, physically sick. While I was lying there one of our men came +along, searching for a place to bestow himself. He gazed inquiringly +at the ground I had just filled in. + + [Illustration: Washing day in war-time] + +"Is there anybody here?" he asked me, indicating the place with a +pick-ax. + +"Yes," I said, with feeling, "there is." + +"It looks to me," he said, "as if some one began digging and then +found a better place. If he don't come back soon I'll take it." + +For about fifteen minutes he stood there, and I lay regarding him +silently. At last he spoke again. + +"I think I'll go ahead," he said. "Possession is nine points of the +law, and the fellow hasn't been here to claim it." + +"I wouldn't if I were you," I said. "That fellow's been there a hell +of a long while." + +I left him there digging, and crawled away to a safe distance. In a +few minutes he passed me. + +"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, reproachfully. + +"Because half of the company saw me digging there and didn't tell me," +I said. + +I was prospecting around for another place when Art Pratt hailed me. +"Why don't you come with me," he said, "instead of digging another +place?" + +I went to where he was and looked at the dugout. It wasn't very wide, +and I said so. Together we began widening and deepening the dugout, +until it was big enough for the two of us. It was grueling work, but +by supper time it was done. The night before, a fatigue party had gone +down to the beach and hauled up a big field kitchen. Our cooks had +made some tea, and we had been issued some loaves of bread. Art +unrolled a large piece of cloth, with all the pomp and ceremony of a +man unveiling a monument. He did it slowly and carefully. There was a +glitter in his eyes that one associates with an artist exhibiting his +masterpiece. He gave a triumphant switch to the last fold and held +toward me a large piece of fresh juicy steak! + +"Beefsteak!" I gasped. "Sacred beefsteak! Where did you get it?" + +Art leaned toward me mysteriously. "Officers' mess," he whispered. + +"I've got salt and pepper," I said, "but how are you going to cook +it?" + +"I don't know," said Art, "but I'm going up to the field kitchen; +there's some condensed milk that I may be able to get hold of to +spread on our bread." + +While Art was gone, I strolled down the ravine a little way to where +some of the Royal Engineers were quartered. The Royal Engineers are +the men who are looked on in training as a noncombatant force, with +safe jobs. In war-time they do no fighting, but their safe jobs +consist of such harmless work as fixing up barbed wire in front of the +parapet and setting mines under the enemy's trenches. For a rest they +are allowed to conduct parties to listening posts and to give the +lines for advance saps. Sometimes they make loopholes in the parapet, +or bolster up some redoubt that is being shelled to pieces. The Turks +were sending over their compliments just as I came abreast of the +Engineers' lines. One of the engineers was sifting some gravel when +the first shell landed. He dropped the sieve, and turned a back +somersault into some gorse-bushes just behind him. The sieve rolled +down, swayed from side to side, and settled close to my head, in the +depression where I was conscientiously emulating an ostrich. I +gathered it to my bosom tenderly and began crawling away. From behind +a boulder I heard the engineer bemoaning to an officer the loss of his +sieve, and he described in detail how a huge shell had blown it out of +his hands. Joyfully I returned to Art with my prize. + +"What's that for?" said Art. + +"Turn it upside down," I said, "and it's a steak broiler." + +"Where did you get it?" said Art. + +I told him, and related how the engineer had explained it to his +officer. + +Up at the field kitchen a group was standing around. + +"What's the excitement?" I asked Art. + +"Those fellows are a crowd of thieves," answered Art, virtuously. +"They're looking about to see what they can steal. I was up there a +few minutes ago and saw a can of condensed milk lying on the shaft of +the field kitchen. They were watching me too closely to give me a +chance, but you might be able to get away with it." + +The two of us strolled up slowly to where Hebe Wheeler, the creative +artist who did our cooking, was holding forth to a critical audience. + +"It's all very well to talk about giving you things to eat, but I +can't cook pancakes without baking powder. You can't get blood out of +a turnip. I'd give you the stuff if I got it to cook, but I don't get +it, do I, Corporal?" said Hebe, appealing to me. + +I moved over and stood with my back to the shaft on which rested the +tin of condensed milk. + +"No, Hebe," I said, "you don't get the things; and when you do get +them, this crowd steals them on you." + +"By God," said Hebe, "that's got to be put a stop to. I'll report the +next man I find stealing anything from the cookhouse." + +I put my hand cautiously behind my back, until I felt my fingers close +on the tin of milk. "You let me know, Hebe," I said, as I slipped the +tin into the roomy pocket of my riding breeches, "and I'll make out a +crime sheet against the first man whose name you give." I stayed about +ten minutes longer talking to Hebe, and then returned to my dugout. +Art had finished broiling the piece of steak, and we began our supper. +I put my hand in my breeches' pocket to get the milk. Instead of +grasping the tin, my fingers closed on a sticky, gluey mass. The tin +had been opened when I took it and I had it in my pocket upside down. +About half of it had oozed over my pocket. Art was just pouring the +remainder on some bread when some one lifted the rubber sheet and +stuck his head into our dugout. It was the enraged Hebe Wheeler. As +soon as he had missed his precious milk he had made a thorough +investigation of all the dugouts. He looked at Art accusingly. + +"Come in, Hebe," I said pleasantly. "We don't see you very often." + +Hebe paid no attention to my invitation, but glared at Art. + +"I've caught you with the goods on," he said. "Give me back that milk, +or I'll report you to the platoon officer." + +"You can report me to Lord Kitchener if you like," said Art, calmly, +as he drained the can; "but this milk stays right here." + +Hebe disappeared, breathing vengeance. + +After supper that night a crowd sat around the dying embers of one of +the fires. This was one of the first positions we had been in where +there was cover sufficient to warrant fires being lighted. A mail had +been distributed that day, and the men exchanged items of news and +swapped gossip. There were men there from all parts of Newfoundland. +They spoke in at least thirty different accents. Any one who made a +study of it could tell easily from each man's accent the district he +came from. Much of the mail was intimate, and necessitated private +perusal, but much more was of interest to others. It was interesting +to hear a man yell to a friend who came from his same "bay" that +another man had enlisted from Robinson's, making up eighteen of the +nineteen men of fighting age in the place. Sometimes the news was that +"Half has volunteered, and Hed was turned down by the doctor." + +This from some resident of the northern parts where the fog is not, +and where aspirates are of little consequence. This news gives rise +to the opinion that "that's the hend o' Half." This with much +discussion and ominous shaking of the head. Sometimes a friend of the +absent "Half" would tell of Half's exploit of stealing a trolley from +the Reid Newfoundland Railway Company and going twenty miles to see a +girl. Sometimes the hero was a married man. Then it was opined that +his conjugal relations were not happy, and the reason he enlisted was +that "he had heard something." All these opinions and suggestions were +voiced with that beautiful freedom from restraint so characteristic of +the ordinary conversation of the members of our regiment. Much was +made of the arrival of a mail. It did not happen often, and the +letters that came were three or four months old. "As cold waters to a +thirsty soul," says Solomon, "so is good news from a far country." The +Newfoundlanders in that barren, scorched country caught eagerly at +every shred of news from that distant Northern country that they loved +enough to risk their lives for. With such a setting it is little +wonder that the talk was much of home. Behind the persiflage of the +talk there was a poignant longing for those dark, cool forests of +pine where the caribou roam, and the broad-bosomed lakes and rivers +that were the highways for the monsters of the Northern forests on +their journey to the mills. The lumbermen of Notre Dame Bay and Green +Bay told fearsome and wondrous tales of driving and swamping, of +teaming and landing, until one almost heard the blows of the ax, the +"gee" and "haw" of the teamsters, and smelt the pungent odor of +new-cut pine. The Reid Newfoundland Railway, the single narrow gage +road that twists a picturesque trail across the Island, had given +largely of its personnel toward the making of the regiment. Firemen +and engineers, brakemen and conductors, talked reminiscently of forced +runs to catch expresses with freight and accommodation trains. There +is an interesting tale of two drivers who blew their whistles in the +Morse code, and kept up communication with each other, until a girl +learned the code and broke up the friendship. A steamship fireman +contributed his quota with a story of laboring through mountainous +seas against furious tides when the stokers' utmost efforts served +only to keep steamers from losing way. By comparison with the +homeland, Turkey suffered much; and the things they said about +Gallipoli were lamentable. From the gloom on the other side of the +fire a voice chanted softly, "It's a long, long way to Tipperary, It's +a long way to go." Gradually all joined in. After Tipperary, came many +marching songs. "Are we downhearted? NO," with every one booming out +the "No." "Boys in Khaki, Boys in Blue," and at last their own song; +to the tune of "There is a tavern in the town." + + And when those Newfoundlanders start to yell, start to yell, + Oh, Kaiser Bill, you'll wish you were in hell, were in hell; + For they'll hang you high to your Potsdam palace wall, + You're a damn poor Kaiser, after all. + +The singing died down slowly. The talk turned to the trenches and the +chances of victory, and by degrees to personal impressions. + +"I'd like to know," said one chap, "why we all enlisted." + +"When I enlisted," said a man with an accent reminiscent of the +Placentia Bay, "I thought there'd be lots of fun, but with weather +like this, and nothing fit to eat, there's not much poetry or romance +in war any more." + +"Right for you, my son," said another; "your King and Country need +you, but the trouble is to make your King and Country feed you." + +"Don't you wish you were in London now, Gal?" said one chap, turning +to me. "You'd have a nice bed to sleep in, and could eat anywhere you +liked." + +"Well," I said, "enough people tried to persuade me to stop. One +fellow told me that the more brains a man had, the farther away he was +from the firing-line. He'd been to the front too. I think," I added, +"that General Sherman had the right idea." + +"I wish you fellows would shut up and go to sleep," said a querulous +voice from a nearby dugout. + +"You don't know what you're talking about, Gal; General Sherman was an +optimist." + +"It doesn't do any good to talk about it now," said Art Pratt, in a +matter of fact voice. "Some of you enlisted so full of love of country +that there was patriotism running down your chin, and some of you +enlisted because you were disappointed in love, but the most of you +enlisted for love of adventure, and you're getting it." + +Again the querulous subterranean voice interrupted: "Go to sleep, you +fellows--there's none of you knows what you're talking about. There's +only one reason any of us enlisted, and that's pure, low down, +unmitigated ignorance." Amid general laughter the class in applied +psychology broke up, and distributed themselves in their various +dugouts. + +Halfway down to my dugout, I was arrested by the sound of scuffling, +much blowing and puffing, and finally the satisfied grunt that I knew +proceeded from Hebe Wheeler. + +"I've got a spy," he yelled. "Here's a bloody Turk." + +"Turk nothing," said a disgusted voice. "Don't you know a man from +your own company?" + +Hebe relinquished his hold on his captive and subsided, grumbling. The +other arose, shook himself, and went his way, voicing his opinion of +people who built their dugouts flush with the ground. + +"What do you think of the news from the Western front?" said Art, when +I located him. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"The enemy are on the run at the Western front. The British have taken +four lines of German trenches for a distance of over five miles in the +vicinity of Loos. The bulletin board at Brigade headquarters says +that they have captured several large guns, a number of machine guns, +and seventeen thousand unwounded prisoners. If they can keep this up +long enough for the Turks to realize that it is hopeless to expect any +help from that quarter, Abdul Pasha will soon give in." + +We were talking about Abdul Pasha's surrendering when we dropped off +to sleep. We must have been asleep about two hours when the insistent, +crackling sound of rapid fire, momentarily increasing in volume, +brought us to our feet. Away up on the right, where the Australians +were, the sky was a red glare from the flashing of many rifles. +Against this, we could see the occasional flare of different colored +rockets that gave the warships their signals for shelling. Very soon +one of our officers appeared. + +"Stand to arms for the Newfoundlanders," he said. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"The Australians are advancing," he answered. "We'll go up as +reinforcements if we're needed. Tell your men to put on their +ammunition belts, and have their rifles ready. They needn't put on +their packs; but keep them near them so that they can slip them on if +we get the order to move away." + +I went about among the men of my section, passing along the word. +Everybody was tingling with excitement. Nobody knew just what was +about to happen; but every one thought that whatever it was it would +prove interesting. For about half an hour the rapid fire kept up, then +by degrees died down. + +"Did you see that last rocket?" said a man near me; "that means +they've done it. A red rocket means that the navy is to fire, a green +to continue firing, and a white one means that we've won." + +In a few minutes Mr. Nunns walked toward us. "You can put your +equipments off, and turn in again," he said, "nothing doing to-night." + +"What is all the excitement?" I asked. + +"Oh, it's the Anzacs again," he said; "when they heard of the advance +at Loos, they went over across, and surprised the Turks. They've taken +two lines of trenches. They did it without any orders--just wanted to +celebrate the good news." + +I was awakened the next morning by the sound of a whizz-bang flying +over our dugout. Johnny Turk was sending us his best respects. I shook +Art, who was sleeping heavily. + +"Get up, Art," I said. I might as well have spoken to a stone wall. I +tried again. Putting my mouth to his ear, I shouted, "Stand to, Art. +Stand to." + +Art turned over, sleeping. "I'll stand three if you like, but don't +disturb me," he muttered, and relapsed into coma. + +In a few minutes, two or three more shells came along. They were well +over the ridge behind us, but were landing almost in the midst of +another line of dugouts. I stood gazing at them for a little while. A +man passed me running madly. "Come on," he gasped, "and yell for the +stretcher." I followed him without further question. "It's all right," +he said, slowing up just before we came to the line of dugouts that +had just been shelled. "They've got him all right." We continued +toward a group that crowded about a stretcher. A man was lying on it, +with his head raised on a haversack. He rolled his eyes slowly and +surveyed the group. "What the hell is the matter?" he said dazedly; +then felt himself over gingerly for wounds. Apparently he could find +none. "What hit me?" he asked, appealing to a grinning Red Cross man. + +"Nothing," said the other, "except about a ton of earth. It's a lucky +thing some one saw you. That last shell buried you alive." + +The whistle of a coming shell dispersed the grinning spectators. I +went back to my dugout, and found Art busily toasting some bread over +the sieve that I had commandeered the day before. + +"What was the excitement?" he asked. + +"Charlie Renouf," I said, "was buried alive." + +"Heavens," said Art, "he's the postman; we can't afford to lose him. +That reminds me that I've got to write some letters." + + [Illustration: Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at + Suvla] + +After we had finished breakfast, Art produced some writing paper and +an indelible pencil. I did not have any writing paper, but I +contributed a supply of service postcards, that bear such meager +information as "I am quite well," "I am sick," "I am wounded," "I am +in hospital and doing well," "I am in hospital and expect to be +discharged soon," "I have not heard from you for a long time," "I have +had no letter from you since ----," "I have your letter of ----," "I +have received your parcel of ----," and a space for the date and the +signature. When a man writes home from the front, he crosses out +all but the sentences he wants read, puts in the date, and adds his +signature. This is the ordinary means of communication. About once a +week a man is allowed to write some letters; but these are censored by +his platoon officer, who seals them, and signs his name as a record of +their having been passed by him. Sometimes the censor at the base +opens a few of them. Perhaps once a fortnight a few privileged +characters are given large blue envelopes, that have printed in the +corner: + + NOTE.-- + + Correspondence in this envelope need not be censored + Regimentally. The contents are liable to examination at the + Base. + + The following Certificate must be signed by the writer: + + _I certify on my honour that the contents of this envelope refer + to nothing but private and family matters._ + + _Signature_ + + (_Name only_) + +While we were writing, the orderly sergeant, that dread of loafers, +who appoints all details for fatigue work, bore down upon our dugout. +"Two men from you, Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "for bomb throwers. +Give me their names as soon as you can. They're for practice this +afternoon." + +"One here, right away," said Art, "and put Lew O'Dea down for the +other." + +Lew O'Dea was a character. He was in the next dugout to me. The first +day on the Peninsula, his rifle had stuck full of sand, and some one +had stolen his tin canteen for cooking food. He immediately formed +himself into an anti-poverty society of one thereafter, and went +around like a walking arsenal. I never saw him with fewer than three +rifles, usually he carried half a dozen. He always kept two or three +of them spotlessly clean; so that no matter when rifle inspection +came, he always had at least one to show. He had been a little late in +getting his rifle clean once and was determined not to be caught any +more. His equipment always contained a varied assortment of canteens, +seven or eight gas masks, and his dugout was luxurious with rubber +sheets and blankets. "I inherited them," he always answered, whenever +anybody questioned him about them. With ammunition for his several +rifles, when he started for the trenches in full marching order, he +carried a load that a mule need by no means have been ashamed of. + +"Do you want to go on bomb throwing detail this afternoon?" I called +to O'Dea across the top of the dugout. + +"Sure," he answered; "does a swim want to duck?" + +"Fine," I said; "report here at two o'clock." + +At two o'clock, accompanied by an officer and a sergeant, we went down +the road a little way to where some Australians were conducting a +class in bomb throwing. A brown-faced chap from Sydney showed me the +difference between bombs that you explode by lighting a match, bombs +that are started by pulling out a plug, and the dinky little +three-second "cricket balls" that explode by pressing a spring. I +asked him about the attack the night before. He told me that they had +been for some time waiting for a chance to make a local advance that +would capture an important redoubt in the Turkish line. Every night at +exactly nine o'clock, the Navy had thrown a searchlight on the part of +the line the Anzacs wanted to capture. For ten minutes they kept up +heavy firing. Then, after a ten minutes' interval of darkness and +suspended firing, they began a second illumination and bombardment, +commencing always at twenty minutes past nine, and ending precisely +at half past. After a little while, the enemy, knowing just the exact +minute the bombardment was to begin, took the first beam of the +searchlight as a hint to clear out. But the night before, a crowd of +eager Australians had crept softly along in the shadow made doubly +dark by the glare of the searchlight, the noise of their advance +covered by the sound of the bombardment. As soon as the bombardment +ceased and the searchlight's beam was succeeded by darkness, they +poured into the Turkish position. They had taken the astonished Turks +completely by surprise. + +"We didn't expect to make the attack for another week," said the +Australian; "but as soon as our boys heard that we were winning in +France, they thought they'd better start something. There hasn't been +any excitement over our way now for a long time," he said. "I'm about +fed up on this waiting around the trenches." He fingered one of the +little cricket-ball bombs caressingly. "Think of it," he said; "all +you do is press that little spring, and three seconds after you're a +casualty." + +"Pressing that little spring," said I, "is my idea of nothing to do, +unless you're a particularly fast sprinter." + +"By the Lord Harry, Newfoundland," said the Australian, with a +peculiar, excited glint in his eye, "that's an inspiration." + +"What's an inspiration?" I asked, in bewilderment. + +The Australian stretched himself on the ground beside me, resting his +chin in his cupped hands. "When I was in Sydney," he said slowly and +thoughtfully, "I did a hundred yards in ten seconds easily. Now if I +can get in a traverse that's only eight or nine yards long, and press +the spring of one of those little cricket balls, I ought to be able to +get out on the other side of the traverse before it explodes." + +Art and Lew O'Dea passed along just then and I jumped up to go with +them. "Don't forget to look for me if you're over around the Fifteenth +Australians," said the Australian. "Ask for White George." + +"I won't forget," I said, as I hurried away to join the others. + +We were about half way to our dugouts when we passed a string of our +men carrying about twenty mail bags. It was the second instalment of a +lot of mail that had been landed the day before. We followed the +sweating carriers up the road to the quarter-master sergeant's +dugout, and waited around humbly while that autocrat leisurely sorted +out the mail, making remarks about each letter and waiting after each +remark for the applause he felt it deserved. With maddening +deliberation he scanned each address. "Corporal W.P. Costello." "He's +at the base," some one answered. Corporal Costello's letter was put +aside. "Private George Butler." Private Butler, on the edge of the +crowd, pushed and elbowed his way toward the quarter-master sergeant. +"Here you are; letter for Butler." The august Q.M.S. placed the letter +beside his elbow. "Wait till the lot's sorted, and you'll get them all +together." Private Butler, with ill-restrained impatience, resumed his +place on the outside. After the letters, the parcels had to be sorted. +Some enterprising person at the base had opened a lot of them. One +fellow received a large box of cigarettes that he would have enjoyed +smoking if the man at the base had not seen them first. Art Pratt drew +a lot of mail, including a parcel, intact except for the contents. A +diligent search in a box a foot square failed to locate anything more +than a pair of socks, which Art presented to me with his compliments. +Some papers, two months old, with some casualty lists of the First +Newfoundland Regiment, had no address; the wrapper had gone before, +somewhere between Newfoundland and the Dardanelles. Everybody claimed +the papers. Various proofs were offered to show the ownership. One +fellow knew by the way they were rolled up that they were from his +family. Another, more original than the rest, was certain they were +his, because he had written for papers of those dates, in order to see +the announcement of the casualty of a friend. It was pointed out +derisively that a letter written after that casualty had occurred +would only then have reached Newfoundland; and to get a lot of papers +in reply would be a physical impossibility. The claimant, in no wise +abashed, suggested that lots be drawn. This was pooh-poohed. At last, +to avoid discussion, the quarter-master sergeant took the papers +himself, and put them in his greatcoat. "I'll distribute them after +I've read them," he announced, and pulled the rubber sheet across the +top of his dugout, as a delicate hint that the interview was finished. +The crowd slowly melted away. I received one letter, and was sitting +on the edge of my dugout reading it when one of our men passing +along, yelled to me. "Hey," he said, "you come from the United States, +don't you?" + +"Yes," I said; "what do you want to know that for?" + +"I've got something here," he said, stopping, "that comes from there +too." He dived into his pocket, and produced a medley of articles. +From these he selected a small paper-wrapped parcel. + +"What's that?" I said. + +"It's chewing gum," he answered; "real American chewing gum like the +girls chew in the subway in New York." He unwrapped it, selected a +piece, placed it in his mouth, and began chewing it with elaborated +enjoyment. After a few minutes, he came nearer. "By golly," he said, +with an exaggerated nasal drawl, "it's good gum, I'll soon begin to +feel like a blooming Yank. I'm talking like a Yank already. Don't you +wish you had some of this?" + +"I'll make you a sporting offer," I answered. "I'll fight you for the +rest of what you've got." + +"No, you won't," he answered nasally; "it's made me feel exactly like +a Yank; I'm too proud to fight." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WAITING FOR THE WAR TO CEASE + + +We were still in dugouts when Art Pratt woke me one morning with a +vicious kick, to show me my boots lying outside of the dugout, filled +with rain water. All the night before it had poured steadily, but now +it was clearing nicely. The Island of Imbros, fifteen miles away, that +seemed to draw a great deal nearer before every rainstorm, had +retreated to its normal position. The sky was still gray, but it was +the leaden gray of a Turkish autumn day. From Suvla Bay the wind blew +keen and piercing. I salved the boots from the rain puddle, emptied +them, dried them out as best I could with my puttees, and put them on. +Art, in his own inimitable way, said unprintable things about a rifle +that had been left outside, and that now necessitated laborious +cleaning, in time for rifle inspection. All through breakfast, Lew +O'Dea elaborated on the much-quoted remarks of the Governor of North +Carolina to the Governor of South Carolina. Rum had not been issued as +per schedule the evening before. Art began a maliciously fabricated +story of a conversation he had heard in which a senior officer had +stated that now that the cold weather had come, there would be no more +rum. Just then, some one shouted, to "Look up in the sky." From the +direction of the trenches a dark cloud was coming rapidly toward us. +(A few nights before, while we were in trenches, we had been ordered +to put on our gas masks; for, a little to the right of us, the Turks +had turned the poison gas on the Gurkhas.) At first, the dark mass in +the sky appeared to some to be poison gas. They immediately dived for +their gas masks. As it came nearer, however, we were able to +distinguish that it was not a cloud, but a huge flock of wild geese, +beginning their southern migration. O'Dea selected a rifle from his +collection, loaded it, and waited till the geese were almost directly +overhead; then, amid derisive cheering, he fired ten rounds at them. +They were much too high in air for a successful shot, even if he had +used gunshot; but even after they were almost over Imbros Island, Lew +continued firing. When an officer arrived, demanding sarcastically if +Lew O'Dea wouldn't sooner send some written invitations to the Turks +to shell us, he subsided, and began cleaning his artillery. Until +then, we had been wearing thin khaki duck uniforms with short pants +that made us look like boy scouts. We had found these rather cool at +night; but in the hot days we preferred them to the heavy khaki drill +uniforms that were kept in kit bags at the beach. I had landed without +a kit bag, and the change of uniform I kept in the pack I carried on +my back. A little while before, I had put on the heavy uniform and +thrown away the light weight one. On the Peninsula, when you have to +walk with all your possessions on your back, each additional ounce +counts for much. As soon as we found that it was impossible to get +water to wash or shave in, we threw away our towels and soap. A few +kept their razors. The only thing I hung on to was my tooth brush--not +for its legitimate purpose, but to clean the sand and grit out of my +rifle. + +"Go over and ask Mr. Nunns," said Art to me, while we were cleaning +our rifles, "if he'll give us a pass to go down to the beach to find +my kit bag. I'll finish cleaning your rifle while you go over." I +handed the rifle to Art, and went over to look for Mr. Nunns. When I +found him he was censoring some letters. + +"You'd better wait till this afternoon, before going," he said. "I +want you to take twenty men and carry up ten boxes of ammunition to +the firing line, where A Company are. They're coming out to-morrow +night and we're to relieve them." He gave me a pass, and I took it +over to Art. + +"You can go down this morning if you like," I said, "or you can wait +till I get back from this ammunition detail." + +"If you're not later than two o'clock," said Art, "I'll wait for you." + +I found the detail of twenty men for ammunition-carrying waiting for +me near the field kitchen. We crawled cautiously along some open +ground, past the quarter-master's dugout and the dugouts that were +dignified by the name of orderly room, where the colonel and adjutant +conducted the clerical business of the battalion, issued daily orders, +and sentenced defaulters. "Napoleon knew what was what," said the man +near me, as he wriggled along, "when he said that an army fights on +its stomach. I've been on my stomach half the time since I've been in +Gallipoli." We straightened up when we came to the communication +trench that gave us cover from snipers. Ordinarily we walked upright +when we were behind the lines, but for a few days past enemy snipers +had been extraordinarily active. The Turkish snipers were the most +effective part of their organization. Each sniper was armed with a +rifle with telescopic sights. With a rifle so equipped, a good shot +can hit a man at seven hundred yards, just as easily as the ordinary +soldier can shoot at one hundred. + +The ten boxes of ammunition were very heavy, and the heat of the day +necessitated a great many rests, before we reached the part of the +line held by A Company. A Company had been losing heavily for a day or +two because of snipers. A couple of the men were talking about it when +I came along. + +"I don't see," one of them was saying, "how they can get us at night." + +"It's this way," explained the other. "The cigarette makers send their +snipers out sometime at night. Instead of going back that night they +stay out for a week, or longer. All the ration Johnny Turk needs is a +swallow of water, some onions, or olives, and a biscuit or two." + +"How is it," I asked, "we don't see them in the daytime?" + +"It's this way," said the A Company man. "He paints himself, his +rifle, and his clothes green. Then he twists some twigs and branches +around him and kids you he's a tree." + +"The way they do in this part of the trench," said another man who had +been listening to the conversation, "is to work in pairs. They get a +dugout somewhere where they can get a pretty good view of our +trenches. They see where we move about most, and aim their machine gun +at the top of the parapet. Then they clamp it down. At night when the +sentries are posted, they simply press the trigger, and there are some +more casualties." + +"You've got to hand it to Johnny Turk, just the same," said the first +man. "One of them will stand up in his dugout in broad daylight, +exposed from his waist up, and give you a chance to pot him, so that +his mate can get you. We used to lose men that way first. As soon as +we aimed, the second sniper turned his machine gun on us and got our +man. Now we've found a better way. We stick a helmet up on top of a +rifle just above the parapet, and fire from another part of the +trench." + +"We've been having trouble with them down in dugouts," I said. "Some +of the fellows say it's stray bullets, but it seems to me that they're +going too fast to be spent. You can tell a bullet that's spent by the +sound." + +One of the A Company sergeants who had been listening to the +discussion joined in. "It's snipers all right," he said. "It's easy +enough for a German officer to get into our trenches. Men are coming +in all the time from working parties, and night patrols, and the +engineers go back and forth every hour or so fixing up the barb wire. +Only a little while ago they found one fellow. He had stripped a +uniform from one of our dead, dressed himself in it, and walked up to +our parapet one night. The sentry didn't know the difference, because +the other fellow spoke good English, so he let him pass. All they have +to do is say 'What ho,' or, 'Where's the Dublin's section of trench?' +They can get by all right." + +The officer to whom I had delivered the ammunition sent word that it +had been checked and that we could return to our company. We were +only a short distance down the communication trench when a party of +officers came along. We drew a little to one side, and stopped to let +them pass. Not one of them was under the rank of lieutenant-colonel, +and one of them was a general. He was a rather tall, spare man, with a +drooping brown mustache. He was most unlike the usual type of gruff, +surly general officers in charge. His eyes had a kindly, +friend-of-the-family sort of twinkle. His type was more like a +superintendent of construction, or a kindly old family physician. +"Look at the ribbons on the old boy's chest," said the man near me. +"He's got enough medals to make a keel for a battleship." In the +British army, those who have seen previous service wear on the breast +of their tunics the ribbons for each campaign. The general halted his +red-tabbed staff where we stood. + +"Are you Newfoundlanders, Corporal?" he said to me. + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"They've made it pretty warm for you since you've been here," he +added, with a smile. "Your men are most efficient trench diggers. If I +had an army like them, we'd dig our way to Constantinople." With that +he passed on with a smile. A pompous-looking sergeant brought up +the rear of the general's escort. + + [Illustration: Landing British troops from the transports at the + Dardanelles under the protection of the battleships] + +"Who was that, that just spoke to us, Sergeant?" I asked. + +The sergeant surveyed me contemptuously. "Is it possible that you don't +know 'im. 'E's General Sir Ian Hamilton, General Commander-in-Chief of +the Mediterranean Force, 'e is." + +General Sir Ian Hamilton has won the unquestioned devotion of the +First Newfoundland Regiment. Many times after that, he visited the +front line trenches and stopped to exchange a few words with men here +and there. It is a curious thing that while the young subaltern +lieutenants held themselves very much aloof, the senior officers +chatted amiably with our men. The Newfoundlanders, democratic to the +core, hated anything that in the least savored of "side," and they +admired the courage of a general officer who took his chances in the +firing line. + +Art was waiting for me when I reached the dugout after my ammunition +fatigue. I accompanied him down the mule path that led along the edge +of the Salt Lake to West Beach, where we had made our landing the +first night. The place looked very different now. Under the shelter +of the beetling cliffs, the engineers had constructed dugouts of all +sorts. The beach was piled high with boxes of beef, biscuits, jam, +lime juice, and rum. At the top of the hill, a temporary dressing +station for the wounded had been built; and nearer the beach was a +clearing station, from which the wounded were taken by motor ambulance +to the hospital ship. At different points along the beach, piers had +been built for the landing of supplies and troops, and for the loading +of wounded into lighters to be taken to the hospital ships waiting out +in deeper water. The Australians had put up a wire fence around a part +of beach and used it for a graveyard. We found the man in charge of +the kit bags of the Newfoundlanders, and after much search located +Art's bag, and took out the stuff we wanted. On the way back, in a +little ravine just on the edge of the Salt Lake, we came upon two +horsemen. They were General Hamilton and his aide. The general +returned our salute smilingly. + +"Who is it?" said Art. + +"It's Sir Ian Hamilton," I said. "Doesn't he look like the sort of +man it would be wise to confide in?" + +"Yes, he does," said Art. "Evidently he has confidence in our troops' +ability to hold their own," added Art. "The Turks have four lines of +trenches to fall back on; we have only one firing line." + +There was the same group around the field kitchen when we arrived back +at our lines. They were swapping yarns and telling stories with a +lurid intermixture of profanity and a liberal sprinkling of trench +slang. To me, one of the most interesting side lights of the war is +the slang that forms a great part of the vocabulary of the trenches. +Early morning tea, when we got it, was "gun-fire." A Turk was never a +Turk. He was a Turkey, Abdul Pasha, or a cigarette maker. A regiment +is a "mob." A psychologist would have been interested to see that +nobody ever spoke of a comrade as having died or been killed, but had +"gone west." All the time I was at the front, I never heard one of our +men say that another had been killed. A man who was killed in our +regiment had "lost his can," although this referred most particularly +to men shot through the head. Ordinarily a dead man was called a +"washout"; or it was said that he had "copped it." The caution to keep +your head down always came, "Keep your napper down low." To get +wounded with one of our own bullets was to get a "dose of +three-o-three." The bullet has a diameter of three-hundred-and-three +thousandths of an inch. + +Mr. Nunns came toward the group, looking for Stenlake. It was Sunday +afternoon, and he thought it would be well to have a service. Stenlake +was found, and a crowd trailed after him to an empty dugout, where he +gathered them about him and began. It was a simple, sincere service. +Out there in that barren country, it seemed a strange thing to see +those rough men gathered about Stenlake while he read a passage or led +a hymn. But it was most impressive. The service was almost over, and +Stenlake was offering a final prayer, when the Turkish batteries +opened fire. Ordinarily at the first sound of a shell, men dived for +shelter; but gathered around that dugout, where a single shell could +have wrought awful havoc, not a man stirred. They stayed motionless, +heads bowed reverently, until Stenlake had finished. Then quietly +they dispersed. As a lesson in faith it was most illuminating. + +It was strange to see week by week the psychological change that had +come over the men. Most of all I noticed it in the songs they sang. At +first the songs had been of a boisterous character, that foretold +direful things that would happen to the Kaiser and his family "As we +go marching through Germany." These had all given place to songs that +voiced to some extent the longing for home that possessed these +voluntary exiles. "I want to go back to Michigan" was a favorite. +Perhaps even more so was "The little gray home in the West." +"Tipperary" was still in demand, not because of the lilt of a march +that it held, but for the pathetic little touch of "my heart's right +there," and perhaps for the reference to "the sweetest girl I know." + +Perhaps it may have been the effect of Stenlake's service, or it may +have been the news that we were to go into the firing line the next +day, that made the men seek their dugouts early that Sunday evening. +But there was something heavy in the air that night. For almost a week +we had been comparatively safe in dugouts. Tomorrow we were again to +go into the firing line and wait impotently while our number was +reduced gradually but pitilessly. The hopelessness of the thing seemed +clearer that evening than any other time we had been there. Simpson, +"the Man with the Donkeys," had been killed that day. After a whole +summer in which he seemed to be impervious to bullets, a stray bullet +had caught him in the heart on his way down Shrapnel Valley with a +consignment of wounded. Simpson had been so much a part of the +Peninsular life that it was hard to realize that he had gone to swell +the list of heroes that Australia has so much cause to be proud of. A +Company had suffered heavily in the front line trenches that day. A +number of stretchers had passed down the road that ran in front of our +dugouts, with A Company men for the dressing station on the beach. +Snipers had been busy. From the A Company stretcher-bearers came news +that others had been killed. One piece of news filtered slowly down to +us that evening, that had an unaccountably strange effect on the men +of B Company. Sam Lodge had been killed. Sam Lodge was perhaps the +most widely known man in the whole regiment. There were very few +Newfoundlanders who did not think kindly of the big, quiet, reliable +looking college man. He had enlisted at the very first call for +volunteers. Other men had been killed that day; and since the regiment +had been at Gallipoli, men had stood by while their dugout mates were +torn by shrapnel or sank down moaning, with a sniper's bullet in the +brain; but nothing had ever had the same effect, at any rate on the +men of our company, as the news that Sam Lodge had been killed that +day. Perhaps it was that everybody knew him. Other nights men had +crowded around the fire, telling stories, exchanging gossip, or +singing. To-night all was quiet; there was not even the sound of men +creeping about from dugout to dugout, visiting chums. Suddenly, from +away up on the extreme right end of the line of dugouts, came the +sound of a clear tenor voice, singing, "Tenting To-night on the Old +Camp Ground." Never have I heard anything so mournful. It is +impossible to describe the penetrating pathos of the old Civil War +song. Slowly the singer continued, amidst a profound hush. His voice +sank, until one could scarcely catch the words when he sang, "Waiting +for the war to cease." At last he finished. There was scarcely a +stir, as the men dropped off to sleep. + +It was a quiet, sober lot of men who filed into a shady, tree-dotted +ravine the next day behind the stretcher that bore the remains of +Private Sam Lodge. Stenlake read the burial service. Everybody who +could turned out to pay their last respects to the best liked man in +the regiment. After the brief service, Colonel Burton, the commanding +officer, Captain Carty, Lodge's company commander, a group of senior +and junior officers, and a number of profoundly affected soldiers +gathered about the grave while the body was lowered into it. In the +shade of a spreading tree, within sound of the mournful wash of the +tide in Suvla Bay, lies poor Sam Lodge, a good, cheerful soldier, +uncomplaining always, a man whose last thought was for others. "Don't +bother to lift me down off the parapet, boys," he had said when he was +hit; "I'm finished." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NO MAN'S LAND + + +Our dugouts were located about a quarter of a mile inland from the +edge of the Salt Lake. Somewhere at the other side of the Salt Lake +was the cleverly concealed landing place of the aëroplane service. +Commander Sampson, who had been in action since the beginning of the +war, was in charge of the aëroplane squadron. One day, by clever +manoeuvering he forced one of the enemy planes, a Taube, away from its +own lines and back over the Salt Lake. Here after a spectacular fight +in mid air, Sampson forced the other to surrender and captured his +machine. The Taube he thereafter used for daily reconnaissance. Every +afternoon we watched him hover over the Turkish lines, circle clear of +their bursting shrapnel, poising long enough to complete his +observations, then return to the Salt Lake with his report for our +artillery and the navy. The day after Sam Lodge's burial, we watched +two hostile 'planes chase Sampson back right to our trenches. When +they came near enough, our men opened rapid fire that forced them to +turn; but before Sampson reached his landing place at Salt Lake, we +could see that he was in trouble. One of the wings of his machine was +drooping badly. From the other side of the Salt Lake, a motor +ambulance was tearing along towards the place where he was expected to +land. The Taube sank gradually to the ground, the ambulance drew up to +within about thirty feet of it, and turned about, waiting. We saw +Sampson jump out of his seat, almost before the machine touched the +ground, and walk to the waiting ambulance. The ambulance had just +started, when a shell from a Turkish gun hit the prostrate aëroplane +and tore a large hole in it. With marvelous precision, the Turkish +battery pumped three or four shells almost on top of the first. In a +few minutes, all that was left of the Taube was a twisted mass of +frame work; of the wings, not a fragment remained. + +But although Sampson had lost his 'plane, he had completed his +mission. About half an hour later, the navy in the bay began a +bombardment. We could see the men-o'-war lined up, pouring broadsides +over our heads into the Turkish trenches. First, we saw the gray ships +calmly riding the waves; then, from their sides came puffs of whitish +gray smoke, and the flash of the discharge, followed by the jarring +report of the explosion. Around the bend of Anafarta Bay, we saw +creeping in a strange, low-lying, awkward-looking craft that reminded +one of the barges one sees used for dredging harbors. It was one of +the new monitors, the most efficiently destructive vessel in the navy. +Soon the artillery on the land joined in. About four o'clock the +bombardment had started; and all that afternoon the terrific din kept +up. When we went into the firing line that evening at dark, the +bombardment was still going on. About nine o'clock it stopped; but at +three the next morning, it was resumed with even greater force. The +part of the line we were holding was in a valley; to the right and +left of us, the trenches ran up hill. From our position in the middle, +we had a splendid view of the other parts of the line. All that +morning the bombardment kept up. Our gunners were concentrating on the +trenches well up the hill on the left. First we watched our shells +demolish the enemy's front line trench. Immense shells shrieked +through the air above our heads and landed in the Turks' firing line. +Gradually but surely the huge projectiles battered down the enemy +defenses. The Turks stuck to their ground manfully, but at last they +had to give up. Through field glasses we could see the communication +trenches choked with fleeing Turks. Some of our artillery, to prevent +their escape, concentrated on the support trenches. This manoeuver +served a double purpose: besides preventing the escape of those +retreating from the battered front line trench, it stopped +reinforcements from coming up. Still farther back, a mule train +bringing up supplies, was caught in open ground in the curtain of +fire. The Turks, caught between two fires, could not escape. In a +short time all that was left of the scientifically constructed +intrenchments was a conglomerate heap of sand bags, equipments, and +machine guns; and on top of it all lay the mangled bodies of men and +mules. + +All through the bombardment, we had hoped for the order to go over the +parapet. When we had been rushed to the firing line the night before, +we thought it was to take part in the attack. Instead of this, we +were held in the firing line. For the Worcesters on our left was +reserved the distinction of making the charge. High explosives cleared +the way for their advance, and cheering and yelling they went over +parapet. The Turks in the front line trenches, completely demoralized, +fled to the rear. A few, too weak or too sorely wounded to run, +surrendered. While the bombardment was going on, our men stood in +their trenches, craning their necks over the parapet. All through the +afternoon, the excitement was intense. Men jumped up and down, running +wildly from one point in the trench to another to get a better view. +Some fired their rifles in the general direction of the enemy; "just a +few joy guns," they said. Everybody was laughing and shouting +delightedly. Down in the bay, the gray ships looked almost as small as +launches in the mist formed by the smoke of the guns. The +Newfoundlanders might have been a crowd rooting at a baseball game. +Every few minutes, when the smoke in the bay cleared sufficiently to +reveal to us a glimpse of the ships, the trenches resounded to the +shouts of, "Come on, the navy," and "Good old Britain." And when the +great masses of iron hurtled through the air and tore up sections of +the enemy's parapet, we shouted delightedly, "Iron rations for Johnny +Turk!" + +Prisoners taken in this engagement told us that the Turkish rank and +file heartily hated their German officers. From the first, they had +not taken kindly to underground warfare. The Turks were accustomed to +guerrilla fighting, and had to be driven into the trenches by the +German officers at the point of their revolvers. One prisoner said +that he had been an officer; but since the beginning of the campaign, +he had been replaced by a German. At that time, he told us, the Turks +were officered entirely by Germans. For two or three days after that, +at short intervals, one or two at a time, Turks dribbled in to +surrender. They were tired of fighting, they said, and were almost +starved to death. Many more would surrender, they told us, but they +were kept back by fear of being shot by their German officers. + +With the monotony varied occasionally by some local engagement like +this, we dragged through the hot, fly-pestered days, and cold, drafty, +vermin-infested nights of September and early October. By the middle +of October, disease and scarcity of water had depleted our ranks +alarmingly. Instead of having four days on the firing line and eight +days' rest, we were holding the firing line eight days and resting +only four. In my platoon, of the six noncommissioned officers who had +started with us, only two corporals were left, one other and I. For a +week after the doctor had ordered him to leave the Peninsula, the +other corporal hung on, pluckily determined not to leave me alone. All +this time, the work of the platoon was divided between us; he stayed +up half the night, and I the other half. At last, he had to be +personally conducted to the clearing station. + +Just about the middle of October comes a Mohammedan feast that lasts +for three or four days. During the days of the feast, while our +battalion was in the firing line, some prisoners who surrendered told +us that the Turks were suffering severely from lack of food and warm +clothing. All sorts of rumors ran through the trench. One was that +some one had reliable information that the supreme commander of the +Turkish forces had sent to Berlin for men to reinforce his army. If +the reinforcements did not come in four days, he would surrender his +entire command. Men ordered off the Peninsula by the medical officer, +instead of proceeding to the clearing station, sneaked back to their +positions in the trench, waiting to see the surrender. But the +surrender never came. Things went on in the same old dreary, +changeless round. More than sickness, or bullets, the sordid monotony +had begun to tell on the men. Every day, officers were besieged with +requests for permission to go out between the lines to locate snipers. +When men were wanted for night patrol, for covering parties, or for +listening post details, every one volunteered. Ration parties to the +beach, which had formerly been a dread, were now an eagerly sought +variation, although it was a certainty that from every such party we +should lose ten per cent. of the personnel. Any change, of any sort, +was welcome. The thought of being killed had lost its fear. Daily +intercourse with death had robbed it of its horror. Here was one case +where familiarity had bred contempt. Most of the men had sunk into +apathy, simply waiting for the day their turn was to come, wondering +how soon would come the bullet that had on it their "name and number." +Most of the men in talking to each other, especially to their sick +comrades, spoke hopefully of the outcome; but those I talked with +alone all had the same thought: only by a miracle could they escape +alive; that miracle was a "cushy one." + +One wave of hope swept over the Peninsula in that dreary time. The +brigade bulletin board contained the news that it was expected that in +a day or two at the most Bulgaria would come into the war on the side +of the Allies. To us this was of tremendous importance. With a +frontier bordering on Turkey, Bulgaria might turn the scale in our +favor. Life became again full of possibilities and interest. Our +interpreters printed up an elaborate menu in Turkish that recited the +various good things that might be found in our trenches by Turks who +would surrender. At the foot of the menus was a little note suggesting +that now was the ideal time to come in, and that the ideal way to +celebrate the feast was to become our guests. These menus we attached +to little stakes and just in front of the Turkish barbed wire we stuck +them in the ground. Several Turks came in within the next few days, +but whether as a result of this or not, it was impossible to say. The +feeling of renewed hope and buoyancy caused by the news of the +imminence of Bulgaria's alliance with us was of short duration. A day +or so afterwards came the alarming news that the Allied ministers had +left Bulgaria; and the following day came word that Bulgaria had +joined in the war, not with us, but with the Central Powers. Again +apathy settled on the men. Now, too, the rainy season had set in in +earnest. Torrents of rain poured down daily on the trenches, choking +the drains, and filling the passageway with thick gray mud in which +one slipped and floundered helplessly, and which coated uniforms and +equipments like cement. One relief it did bring with it. Men who had +not had a bath, or a shave in months, were able to collect in their +rubber sheets enough rain water to wash and shave with. But the +drinking water was still scarce. On other parts of the Peninsula there +was plenty of it; but we had so few men available for duty that we +could scarcely spare enough men to go for it. Also, there was the +difficulty in securing proper receptacles for its conveyance. Most of +the men were very much exhausted, and the trip of four or five miles +for water would have been too much for them. Even when we did get +water, it had to be boiled to kill the germs of disease, and to +prevent men from being poisoned. The boiled water was flat and +tasteless; and to counteract this, we were given a spoonful of lime +juice about once a week. This we put in our water bottles. About every +third day we were issued some rum. Twice a week, an officer appeared +in the trench carrying a large stone jar bearing the magic letters in +black paint, P.D.R., Pure Demerara Rum. This he doled out as if every +drop had cost a million dollars. Each man received just enough to +cover the bottom of his canteen, not more than an eighth of a tumbler. +Just before going out on any sort of night fatigue on the wet ground, +it was particularly grateful. We had long ago given up reckoning time +by the calendar, and days either were or were not "Rum days." Men who +were wounded on these days bequeathed their share to their particular +pals or to their dugout mates. Some of the men were total abstainers +with the courage of their convictions; they steadfastly refused to +touch it. The other men canvassed these on rum days for their share of +the fiery liquid, and in exchange did the temperance men's share of +fatigue duty. During this time, there was very little fighting. Both +sides were intrenched and prepared to stay there for the winter. In +the particular section of trench we held, we knew that any attempt at +an advance would be hopeless and suicidal. The ground in front was too +well commanded by enemy machine guns. Still, we thought that some +other parts of the line might advance and turn one of the flanks of +the enemy. Nothing was impossible to the Dublins or the Munsters; and +there was always faith in the invincible Australasians. We could not +forget the way the Australasians a short time before had celebrated +the news of the British advance at Loos. + +Just after the Turkish feast, we went into dugouts again for a few +days, and back once more to the firing line. This time, we were up in +the farm house district near Chocolate Hill. It was a place +particularly exposed to shell fire; for the old skeletons of farm +houses made good targets for the enemy's guns. Every afternoon, the +Turks sent over about a dozen or so shells, just to show us that they +knew we were there. After Bulgaria came in against us, it seemed to us +that the Turks grew much more prodigal of their shells than formerly. +Where before they sent over ten, they now fired twenty. It was rather +grimly ironic to find, on examination of some of the shell casings, +that they were shells made by Great Britain and supplied to the Turks +in the Balkan War. There was a certain amount of sardonic satisfaction +in knowing that the fortifications on Achi Baba were placed there by +British engineers when we looked on the Turks as friends. No. 8 +platoon was intrenched just in front of a field in which grew a number +of apple trees. In the daytime we could not get to these, but at night +some of the more venturesome spirits crawled out and returned with +their haversacks full. A little further along was what had once been a +garden. Even now there were still growing some tomatoes and some +watermelons. The rest of it was a mass of battered stones that had +once been fences. Here it was that the old gray bearded farmers who +had been peacefully working in their fields had hung up their scythes +and taken down from their hook on the wall old rusty muskets and +fought in their dooryards to defend their homes. The oncoming troops +had swept past them, but at a tremendous cost. For a whole day the +battle had swayed back and forth. Where formerly had bloomed a +luxuriant garden or orchard, was now a plowed field,--plowed not with +farm implements but with shrapnel and high explosive shells. Dotting +it here and there, were the little rough wooden crosses that gave the +simple details of a man's regimental name, number, and date of death. +Not a few of them were in memory of "Unknown Comrades." And once in a +while one saw a cross that marked the resting place of the foe. +Feeling toward the enemy differed with individuals; but we were all +agreed that Johnny Turk was a good, clean, sporty fighter, who +generally gave as good as we could send. Therefore, whenever we could +we gave him decent burial, we stuck a cross up over him, although he +did not believe in what it symbolized, and we took off his +identification disk and personal papers. These we handed to our +interpreters, who sent them to the neutral consuls at Constantinople; +and they communicated through the proper channels with the deceased's +various widows. + +After a week or so in this district, we moved back again to our old +quarters at Anafarta village. Here we took over a block house occupied +by the Essex. The Dublins and the Munsters were on our right. The +block house was an advanced post that we held in the morning and +during the night. Every afternoon we left it for a few hours while the +enemy wasted shells on it. A couple of Irish snipers were with us. The +first day they were there, our Lieutenant, Mr. Nunns, spent the day +with them; that day, he accounted for four Turks. This was the closest +we had yet been to them. I stood up beside an Irish sniper and looked +through a pair of field glasses to where he pointed out some snipers' +dugouts. They were the same dugouts that Cooke, the Irish V.C. man, +had shown me. While I was watching, I saw an old Turk sneaking out +between his trench and one of the dugouts. He looked old and stooped +and had a long whisker that reached almost to his waist and appeared +to have difficulty in getting along. All about him were little canvas +pockets that contained bombs and about his neck was a long string of +small bombs. "Begob," said one of the Dublins, beside me, "'t is the +daddy of them all. Get him, my son." I grasped my gun excitedly and +aimed; but before I had taken the pressure of the trigger, I heard +from a little distance to the right the staccato of a machine gun. +The result was astonishing. One second, I was looking through my +sights at the Turk; the next, he had disappeared, and in his place was +the most marvelous combination of all colors of flames I have ever +seen. Literally Johnny Turk had gone up in smoke. The Irishman beside +me was standing open mouthed. + +"Glory be to God," he said, "what does that make you think of?" + +"It reminds me," I said, "of a Fourth of July celebration in the +States; and I wish," I added heartily, "I was there now." + +"It makes me think, my son," said the Irishman, "of the way ould Cooke +killed a lot of the sausage-makers over on the other side. He threw a +bomb in among tin of 'em and then fired his rifle at it and exploded +it. Killed every damn one of 'em, he did. 'T was the same time he got +the V.C." + +"I suppose," I said, "Cooke's in London now getting his medal from the +King. He's through with this Peninsula." + +"Thrue for you, my son," said the Irishman, "he's through with this +Peninsula, but he's not in London. 'T was just three nights ago that I +went out yonder, and tin yards in front of that dugout I found ould +Cooke's body. The Turrk got him right through the cap badge and blew +the top clean off his head. 'T is just luck. Some has it one way, and +some has it another; but whichever way you have it, it don't do you no +good to worry over it." + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity] + +Having delivered himself of this satisfying philosophy, he resumed his +survey of the ground in front. + +About ten yards outside the block house we were holding, the Turks +had, under cover of darkness, almost completed a sap, with the object +of surrounding the block house. A detachment of the Dublins with three +or four bomb throwers sapped out to the left of the sap the enemy was +digging, after a short but exciting engagement, bombed them out of it, +and took the sap at the point of the bayonet. They found it occupied +by only two Turks, who surrendered. The rest were able to get back to +their own trench. We cut the corner off this sap, rounded it off to +surround our block house, and occupied it. It brought us to within +fifty yards of the enemy firing line. We could hear them talking at +night; and in the daytime we could see them walking about their +trenches. At this point, they had in their lines a number of animals, +chiefly dogs. In addition, they had a brass band that played tuneless, +wailing music nearly every night, to the accompaniment of the howling +and barking of dogs. Some of the men claimed that the dogs were +trained animals who carried food to snipers and who were taught to +find the Turkish wounded. This may have been true; but I have always +believed that their chief use was to cover the noise of secret +operations. This seems likely, for they were able to get their sap +almost finished without our hearing them. + +The block house we held stood just in the center of the line that the +Fifth Norfolks had charged into early in August, and from which not +one man had emerged. The second or third day we occupied it, a +detachment of engineers was sent in to make loopholes and prepare it +for a stubborn defense. In the wall on the left they made a large +loophole. The sentry posted there the first morning saw about twenty +feet away the body of a British soldier, partly buried. Two volunteers +to bury the body were asked for. Half a dozen offered, although it was +broad daylight and the place the body lay in offered no protection. + +Before any one could be selected, Art Pratt and young Hayes made the +decision by jumping up, taking their picks and shovels, and vaulting +over the wall of the block house. They walked out to where the body +lay. It had been torn in pieces by a shell the previous afternoon. At +first a few bullets tore up little spurts of ground near the two men, +but as soon as they reached the body, this stopped. The Turks never +fired on burial parties; and men on the Peninsula, wounded by snipers, +tell strange stories of dark-skinned visitors who crept up to them +after dark, bound up their wounds, gave them water, and helped them to +within shouting distance of their own lines, where at daylight the +next morning their comrades found them. Once one of our batteries was +very near a dressing station when a stray shell, fired at the battery, +hit the dressing station. The Turkish observer heliographed over and +apologized. That is why we respected the Turk. When we tried to shoot +him, he chuckled to himself and sniped us from trees and dugouts; and +when we reviled him and threw tins of apricot jam at him, he gave +thanks to Allah, and ate the jam. The empty tins he filled with powder +and returned to us in the shape of bombs. Only once did he really +lose his temper. That was when under his very eyes we deliberately +undressed on his beach and disported ourselves in the Ægean Sea. Then +he sent over shells that shrieked at us to get out of his ocean. But +in his angriest moments he respected the Red Cross and never ill +treated our wounded. One chap, an Englishman, was wounded in the head +just as he reached the Turkish trench during a charge. The bullet went +in the side of his head, ruining both his eyes. He was captured as he +toppled over into the trench, was taken to Constantinople, well +treated in hospital there, and returned in the first batch of +exchanged prisoners. When I met him in Egypt, he had nothing but kind +words for the Turks. When the enemy saw the object of the little +expedition, they allowed Art and Hayes to proceed unmolested. We +watched them dig a grave beside the corpse; and when they had +finished, with a shovel they turned the body into it. Before doing it, +they searched the man for personal papers and took off his +identification disk. These bore the name, "Sergeant Golder, Fifth +Norfolk Regiment." That was in the last part of October; and since +August 10th not a word had been heard of the missing Norfolk +regiment. To this day, the whole affair remains a mystery. The +regiment disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them up. On the +King's Sandringham estate, families are still hoping against hope that +there may sometime come word that the men are prisoners in Turkey. +Neutral consuls in Constantinople have been appealed to, and have +taken the matter up with the Turkish Government. The most searching +inquiries have elicited nothing new. The answer has always been the +same. The Turkish authorities know no more about it than the English. +Two hundred and fifty men were given the order to charge into a wood. +The only sign that they ever did so, is the little wooden cross that +reads + + IN MEMORY OF + SERGEANT J. GOLDER + FIFTH NORFOLK REGIMENT + KILLED IN ACTION + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WOUNDED + + +The gorgeous tropical sunset had given place to the inky darkness of a +Turkish night, when we moved into trenches well up on the side of a +hill that overlooked Anafarta Plain. Here an advance had been +unsuccessful, and the Turks had counter attacked. Half way, the +British had dug in hastily, in hard limestone that resisted the pick. +No. 8 platoon held six traverses. Four of these were exposed to +enfilade fire. About two hundred yards away, at an angle on the left +front, a number of snipers had built some dugouts on Caribou Ridge. +These they manned with machine guns. From this elevation, they could +pour their fire into our trenches. Several attempts had been made to +dislodge them; but their machine guns commanded the intervening ground +and made an advance impossible. Their first line trench was about two +hundred yards in front of us. Thirty or forty yards nearer us they +were building a sap that ran parallel with their lines for about five +hundred yards. At that point it took a sharp V turn inward toward us. +The proximity of the enemy, and the contour of the ground so favorable +to them, made it necessary to take extra precautions, especially at +night. Each night, at the point where the enemy sap turned toward us, +we sent out a listening patrol of two men and a corporal. The fourth +night, my turn came. That day it had rained without cessation; and in +the early part of the evening I had tried to sleep, but my wet clothes +and the pouring rain had made it impossible. I felt rather glad when I +was told that at one-thirty I was to go out for two hours on listening +patrol. That night we had been issued some rum, and I had been +fortunate enough to get a good portion. I decided to reserve it until +I went out. About ten o'clock I gave up attempting to sleep, and +walked down the trench a little way to where a collection of trees and +brush had been laid across the top. Some one, with memories of +London's well-known meeting place, had christened it the Marble Arch. +I stood under this arch, where the rain did not penetrate, and talked +with the corporal of an English regiment who were holding the line on +the other side of the Marble Arch. A Sergeant Manson, who had been +loaned to us from another platoon, came along and we talked for a +while. He had received some chocolate that evening, and the next +morning he was going to distribute it among the men. It was in a +haversack under his head, he said, and he was going to sleep on it to +prevent it from being stolen. About eleven he returned to his place on +the firing platform and went to sleep. I was ravenously hungry, and +had nothing to eat. I could not find even a biscuit. I did find some +bully beef, and ate some of it, washing it down with a swallow of the +precious rum from my water bottle. Then I remembered the chocolate +under Sergeant Manson's head, and went over to where he was lying. He +was breathing heavily in the deep sleep of exhaustion. Quietly I +slipped my hand into the haversack, and took out four or five little +cubes of chocolate about an inch long. Manson stirred sleepily and +murmured, "What do you want?" then turned over and again began +breathing regularly. It was now almost time to start for the listening +post. So I went along the trench to where I knew young Hayes was +sleeping. He had volunteered as one of the men to accompany me, and +from D Company I got the second man. My platoon by this time had been +reduced to eighteen men, and I was the only non-com. We had to get men +from D Company to take turns on the parapet at night, although they +were supposed to be resting at the time. Between us and the Turkish +sap a small rise covered with short evergreen bushes prevented us from +seeing them. To get to this we had to cross about fifty yards of +ground with fairly good cover, and another fifty yards of bare ground. +Where the bare ground began, a ditch filled with dank, wet grass +served as our listening post. A large tree with spreading boughs gave +us some shelter. From behind this we could watch the rising ground in +front. Any of the enemy attempting an advance had to appear over this +rise. Our instructions were to watch this, and report any movement of +the enemy, but not to fire. I left young Hayes about half way between +this tree and the trench, and the other man and I spread a rubber +sheet under the tree and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. +The rain was still coming down with a steadiness that promised little +hope of stopping. After a little while I became numbed, and decided +to move about a little. When I came on the Peninsula, I had no +overcoat, but a little time before had secured a very fine gray woolen +great-coat from a Turk. It had been at one time the property of a +German officer, and was very warm and comfortable, with a large collar +and deep thick cuffs. I had worn it about the trench and it had been +the subject of much comment. That night I wore it, and over it a +raincoat. So that my movements might be less constricted, I took off +the raincoat, and left it with the D Company man, who stayed under the +tree. It was pitch dark, and I got across the open space to the +evergreen-covered rise without being seen. Here I dropped on my +stomach and wriggled between wet bushes that pricked my face, up to +the top. + +It was only about thirty feet, but it took me almost an hour to get up +there. By the time I had reached the top it had stopped raining and +stars had come out. I crawled laboriously a short distance down the +other side of the little hill; I parted the bushes slowly and was +preparing to draw myself a little further when I saw something that +nearly turned me sick with horror. Almost under my face were the +bodies of two men, one a Turk, the other an Englishman. They were +both on their sides, and each of them were transfixed with the bayonet +of the other. I don't know how long I stayed there. It seemed ages. At +last I gathered myself together, and withdrew cautiously, a little to +the right. My nerves were so shaken by what I had just seen that I +decided to return at once to the man under the tree. When I had gone +back about ten feet I was seized with an overwhelming desire to go +back and find out to what regiment the dead Englishman belonged. At +the moment I turned, my attention was distracted by the noise of men +walking not very far to the front. I crawled along cautiously and +peered over the top of the rise where I could see the enemy sap. The +noise was made by a digging party who were just filing into the sap. +For almost an hour I lay there watching them. It gave me a certain +satisfaction to aim my rifle at each one in turn and think of the +effect of a mere pressure of the trigger. But my orders were not to +fire. I was on listening patrol, and we had men out on different +working parties, who might be hit in the resulting return fire. At +intervals I could hear behind me the report of a rifle, and wondered +what fool was shooting from our lines. When I thought it was time to +go back I crawled down the hill, and found to my consternation that +the moon was full, and the space between the foot of the little rise +and the tree was stark white in the moonlight. I had just decided to +make a sharp dash across when the firing that I had heard before +recommenced. Instead of being from our lines it came from a tree a +short distance to the left, at the end of the open space. It was +Johnny Turk, cozily ensconced in a tree that overlooked our trench. +Whenever he saw a movement he fired. He used some sort of smokeless +powder that gave no flash, and it was most fortunate for me that I +happened to be at the only angle that he could be seen from. I resumed +my wriggling along the edge of the open space to where it ended in +thick grass. Through this I crawled until I had come almost to the +edge of the ditch in which I had left the other man. But to reach it I +had to cross about ten feet of perfectly bare ground that gave no +protection. Had the Turk seen me he could have hit me easily. I +decided to crawl across slowly, making no noise. I put my head out of +the thick grass and with one knee and both hands on the ground poised +as a runner does at the start of a race. Against the clear white +ground I must have loomed large, for almost at once a bullet whizzed +through the top of the little brown woolen cap I was wearing. Just +then the D Company man caught sight of me, and raised his gun. "Who +goes there?" he shouted. I did some remarkably quick thinking then. I +knew that the bullet through my cap had not come from the sniper, and +that some one of our men had seen my overcoat and mistaken me for a +Turk. I knew the sniper was in the tree, and the D Company's man's +challenge would draw his attention to me; also I knew that the +Newfoundlander might shoot first and establish my identity afterwards. +He was wrong in challenging me, as his instructions were to make no +noise. But that was a question that I had to postpone settling. I +decided to take a chance on the man in the listening post. I shouted, +just loud enough for him to hear me, "Newfoundland, you damn fool, +Newfoundland," then tore across the little open space and dived head +first into the dank grass beside him. When I had recovered my breath, +with a vocabulary inspired by the occasion, I told him, clearly and +concisely, what I thought of him. While it may not have been +complimentary it was beyond question candid. When I had finished, I +sent him back to relieve young Hayes with instructions to send Hayes +out to me. In a few minutes Hayes came. + +"Do you know, Corporal," he said as he came up beside me, "I almost +shot you a few minutes ago. I should have when the other fellow +challenged you if you hadn't said 'Newfoundland.' I fired at you once. +I saw you go out one way, and when you came back I could just see your +Turkish overcoat. 'Here,' says I to myself, 'is Abdul Pasha trying to +get the Corporal, and I'll get him.' Instead of that I almost got +you." + +Whether or not the noise I made caused the sniper to become more +cautious I don't know, but I heard no further shots from him from then +until the time I was relieved. + +The arrival of a relief patrol prevented my replying to young Hayes. I +went back to my place in the trench, but try as I might I could not +sleep; I twisted from side to side, took off my equipment and +cartridge pouches, adjusted blankets and rubber sheet, tried another +place on the firing platform; I threw myself down flat in the bottom +of the trench. Still I could not get asleep. At last I abandoned the +attempt, took from my haversack a few cigarettes, lit one, and on a +piece of coarse paper began making a little diagram of the ground I +had covered that night, and of the position of the sniper I had been +watching. By the time I had completed it daylight had come, and with +it the familiar "Stand to." After "Stand to," I crawled under a rubber +sheet and snatched a few hours' sleep before breakfast. Just after +breakfast, a man from A Company came through the trench, munching some +fancy biscuits and carrying in his hand a can of sardines. The German +Kaiser could not have created a greater impression. "Where had he got +them, and how?" He explained that a canteen had been opened at the +beach. Here you could get everything that a real grocery store boasts, +and could have it charged on your pay-book. "A Company men," he said, +"had all given orders through their quarter-master sergeant, and had +received them that morning." Then followed a list of mouth-watering +delicacies, the very names of which we had almost forgotten. A +deputation instantly waited on Mr. Nunns. He knew nothing of the +thing, and was incensed that his men had not been allowed to +participate in the good things. He deputed me to go down and make +inquiries at A Company's lines. I did so, and found that the first man +had been perfectly correct. A Company was reveling in sardines, white +bread, real butter, dripping from roast beef, and tins of salmon and +lobster. If we gave an order that day, I was told, we should get it +filled the next. Elated, I returned to B Company's lines with the +news. The dove returning to the ark with the olive branch could not +have been more welcome. Mr. Nunns fairly beamed satisfaction. A few of +the more pessimistic reflected aloud that they might get killed before +the things arrived. + +Just before nine o'clock I went down to see the cooks about dinner for +my section. On my way back I passed a man going down the trench on a +stretcher. One of the stretcher bearers told me that he had been hit +in the head while picking up rubbish on top of the parapet. He hoped +to get him to the dressing station alive. As I came into our own lines +another stretcher passed me. The man on this one was sitting up, +grinning. + +"Hello, Gal," he yelled. "I've stopped a cushy one." + +I laughed. "How did it happen?" I asked. + + [Illustration: Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel + Bahr are still in position] + +"Picking up rubbish on top of the parapet." + +He disappeared around the curve of the trench, delightedly spreading +the news that he had stopped a cushy one in the leg. I kept on back to +my own traverse, and showed the diagram I had made the night before to +Art Pratt. Mr. Nunns had granted us leave to go out that day to try to +get the sniper in the tree. Art was delighted at the chance of some +variety. While Art and I were making out a list of things we wanted at +the canteen, a man in my section came down the trench. + +"Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "the Brigade Major passed through the +lines a few minutes ago, and he's raising hell at the state of the +lines; you've got to go out with five men, picking up rubbish on top +of the parapet." + +Instantly there came before my eyes the vision of the strangely limp +form I had met only a few minutes before that had been hit in the head +"picking up rubbish on top of the parapet." But in the army one cannot +stop to think of such things long; orders have to be obeyed. Since +coming into the trench we had constructed a dump, but the former +occupants of the trench had thrown their refuse on top of the +parapet. My job with the five men was to collect this rubbish and put +it in our dump. At nine o'clock in the morning we mounted the parapet +and began digging. There was no cover for men standing; the low bushes +hid men sitting or lying. Every few minutes I gave the men a rest, +making them sit in the shelter of the underbrush. The sun was shining +brightly; and after the wet spell we had just passed through, the +warmth was peculiarly grateful. The news that the canteen had been +opened on the beach made most of the men optimistic. With good things +to eat in sight life immediately became more bearable. Never since the +first day they landed had the men seemed so cheerful. Up there where +we were the sun was very welcome, and we took our time over the job. +One chap had that morning been given fourteen days' field punishment, +because he had left his post for a few seconds the night before. He +wanted to get a pipe from his coat pocket, and did not think it worth +while to ask any one to relieve him. It was just those few seconds +that one of the brigade officers selected to visit our trench. When he +saw the post vacant, he waited until the man returned, asked his name, +then reported him. Field punishment meant that in addition to his +regular duties the man would have to work in every digging party or +fatigue detail. I asked him why he had not sent for me, and he told me +that it had happened while I was out in the listening patrol. He was +not worrying about the punishment, but feared that his parents might +hear of it through some one writing home. But after a little while +even he caught the spirit of cheerfulness that had spread amongst us +at the news of the new canteen. To the average person meals are like +the small white spaces in a book that divide the paragraphs; to us +they had assumed the proportions of the paragraph themselves. The man +who had just got field punishment told me the things he had ordered at +the canteen, and we compared notes and made suggestions. The +ubiquitous Hayes, working like a beaver with his entrenching tool, +threw remarks over his shoulder anent the man who had delayed the +information that the canteen had been established, and offered some +original and unique suggestions for that individual's punishment. When +we had the rubbish all scraped up in a pile, we took it on shovels to +the dump we had dug. To do this we had to walk upright. We had almost +finished when the snipers on Caribou Ridge began to bang at us. I +jumped to a small depression, and yelled to the men to take cover. +They were ahead of me, taking the last shovelful of rubbish to the +trench. At the warning to take cover, they separated and dived for the +bushes on either side. That is, they all did except Hayes, who either +did not hear me or did not know just where to go. I stepped up out of +the depression and pointed with outstretched arm to a cluster of +underbrush. "Get in there, Hayes!" I yelled. Just then I felt a dull +thud in my left shoulder blade, and a sharp pain in the region of my +heart. At first I thought that in running for cover one of the men had +thrown a pick-ax that hit me. Until I felt the blood trickling down my +back like warm water, it did not occur to me that I had been hit. Then +came a drowsy, languid sensation, the most enjoyable and pleasant I +have ever experienced. It seemed to me that my backbone became like +pulp, and I closed up like a concertina. Gradually I felt my knees +giving way under me, then my head dropped over on my chest, and down I +went. In Egypt I had seen Mohammedans praying with their faces toward +Mecca, and as I collapsed I thought that I must look exactly as they +did when they bent over and touched their heads to the ground, +worshiping the Prophet. Connecting the pain in my chest with the blow +in my back, I decided that the bullet had gone in my shoulder, through +my left lung, and out through my heart, and I concluded I was done +for. I can distinctly remember thinking of myself as some one else. I +recollect saying, half regretfully, "Poor old Gal is out of luck this +morning," then adding philosophically, "Well, he had a good time while +he was alive, anyway." By now things had grown very dim, and I felt +everything slipping away from me. I was myself again, but I said to +that other self who was lying there, as I thought, dying, "Buck up, +old Gal, and die like a sport." Just then I tried to say, "I'm hit." +It sounded as if somewhere miles away a faint echo mocked me. I must +have succeeded in making myself heard, because immediately I could +hear Hayes yell with a frenzied oath, "The Corporal's struck. Can't +you see the Corporal's struck?" and heard him curse the Turk who had +fired the shot. Almost instantly Hayes was kneeling beside me, trying +to find the wound. He was much more excited over it than I. + +"Don't you try to bandage it here," I said; "yell for stretcher +bearers." + +Hayes jumped up, shouting lustily, "Stretcher bearers at the double, +stretcher bearers at the double!" then added as an after-thought, +"Tell Art Pratt the Corporal's struck." + +I was now quite clear headed again and told Hayes to shout for "B +Company stretcher bearers." On the Peninsula messages were sent along +the trench from man to man. Sometimes when a traverse separated two +men, the one receiving the message did not bother to step around, but +just shouted the message over. Often it was not heard, and the message +stopped right there. One message there was though, that never +miscarried, the one that came most frequently, "Stretcher bearers at +the double." Unless the bearers from some particular company were +specified, all who received the message responded. It was to avoid +this that I told Hayes to yell for B Company stretcher bearers. +Apparently some one had heard Hayes yell, "Tell Art Pratt the +Corporal's struck," because in a few minutes Art was bending over me, +talking to me gently. Three other men whom I could not see had come +with him; they had risked their lives to come for me under fire. "We +must get him out of this," I heard Art say. In that moment of danger +his thought was not for himself, but for me. I was able to tell them +how to lift me. No women could have been more gentle or tender than +those men, in carrying me back to the trench. Although bullets were +pattering around, they walked at a snail's pace lest the least hurried +movement might jar me and add to my pain. The stretcher bearers had +arrived by the time we reached the trench, and were unrolling bandages +and getting iodine ready. At first there was some difficulty in +getting at the wound. It had bled so freely that the entire back of my +coat was a mass of blood. The men who had carried me looked as if they +had been wounded, so covered with blood were they. The stretcher +bearer's scissors would not work, and Art angrily demanded a sharp +knife, which some one produced. The stretcher bearer ripped up my +clothing, exposing my shoulder, then began patching up my _right_ +shoulder. I cursed him in fraternal trench fashion and told him he was +working on the wrong shoulder; I knew I had been hit in the _left_ +shoulder and tried to explain that I had been turned over since I was +hit. The stretcher bearer thought I was delirious and continued +working away. I thought he was crazy, and told him so. At last Art +interrupted to say, "Just look at the other shoulder to satisfy him." +They looked, and, as I knew they would, found the hole the bullet had +entered. To get at it they turned me over, and I saw that a crowd had +gathered around to watch the dressing and make remarks about the +amount of blood. I became quite angry at this, and I asked them if +they thought it was a nickel show. This caused them all to laugh so +heartily that even I joined in. This was when I felt almost certain +that I was dying. I can't remember even feeling relieved when they +told me that the bullet had not gone through my heart. The pain I felt +there when I was first hit was caused by the tearing of the nerves +which centered in my heart when the bullet tore across my back from +shoulder to shoulder. Never as long as I live shall I forget the +solicitude of my comrades that morning. The stretcher bearers found +that the roughly constructed trench was too narrow to allow the +stretcher to turn, so they put me in a blanket and started away. +Meanwhile the word had run along the trench that "Gal had copped it." +I did not know until that morning that I had so many friends. A +little way down the trench I met Sergeant Manson. He was carrying some +sticks of chocolate for distribution among the men. I asked him for a +piece. To do so on the Peninsula was like asking for gold, but he put +it in my mouth with a smile. Hoddinott and Pike, the stretcher +bearers, stopped just where the communication trench began. The doctor +had come up. He asked me where I was hit, and I told him. He examined +the bandages, and told the stretcher bearers to take me along to the +dressing station. Captain Alexander, my company commander, came along, +smiled at me, and wished me good-by. Hoddinott asked me if I wanted a +cigarette, and when I said, "Yes," placed one in my month and lit it +for me. I had never realized until then just how difficult it is to +smoke a cigarette without removing it from your mouth. Poor Stenlake, +who by this time was worn to a shadow, was in the support trench, +waiting with some other sick men, to go to hospital. He came along and +said good-by. A Red Cross man gave me a postcard to be sent to some +organization that would supply me with comforts while I was in +hospital. "You'll eat your Christmas dinner in London, old chap," he +said. + + [Illustration: A British battery at work on the Peninsula] + +We had to go two miles before the stretcher bearers could exchange the +blanket for the regular stretcher. The trenches were narrow, and on +one side a little ditch had been dug to drain them. The recent wet +weather had made the bottom of the trench very slippery, and every few +minutes one of the bearers would slide sideways and bring up in the +ditch. When he did the blanket swayed with him, and my shoulders +struck against the jagged limestone on the sides. To avoid this as +much as possible the bearers had to proceed very slowly. Those two +miles to me seemed endless. I had now become completely paralyzed, all +control of my muscles was gone, and I slipped about in the blanket. +Every few yards I would ask Hoddinott, "Is it very much farther?" and +every time he would turn around and grin cheerfully, and answer, as +one would answer a little child, "Not very much farther now, Gal." + +At last we emerged into a large wide communication trench, with the +landmarks of which I was familiar. I was suffering severely now, and +was beginning to worry over trifles. Suddenly it came to me that I +was still a couple of miles from the dressing station, and when we +came out of the communication trench on to open ground that had been +torn up by shrapnel, I was consumed with fear that at any moment I +might be hit by another shell, and might not get aboard the hospital +after all, for by this time my mind had centered on getting into a +clean bed. A dozen different thoughts chased through my mind. I was +grieved to think that in order to get at the wound it had been +necessary to cut the fine great-coat that I had so much wanted to take +home as a souvenir. I asked Hoddinott what they had done with it, and +he told me that part of it was under my head as a pillow, but that it +was so besmeared with blood that it would be thrown away as soon as I +arrived at the dressing station. From thinking of the great-coat, I +remembered that before I went out with the digging party I had taken +off my raincoat and left it near my haversack in the trench, and in +the pocket of it was the little diagram I had drawn of the position of +the sniper I had seen the night before. Again I called for Hoddinott, +and again he came, and answered me patiently and gently. "Yes, he +would tell Art about the little diagram." Where a fringe of low +bushes bordered the pathway at the end of the open space, Hoddinott +and Pike turned. For the distance of about a city block they carried +the stretcher along a road cut through thick jungle. At the end of it +stood a little post from which drooped a white flag with a red cross. +It was the end of the first stage for the stretcher bearers. A great +wave of loneliness swept over me when I realized that I was to see the +last of the men with whom I had gone through so much. I was almost +crying at the thought of leaving them there. Somehow or other it did +not seem right for me to go. I felt that in some way I was taking an +unfair advantage of them. Hoddinott and Pike slipped the straps from +their shoulders and lowered the stretcher gently. Under the blanket +Hoddinott sought my hand. "Good-by, Gal," he said. "Is there any +message I can take back to Art?" + +"Yes," I said, "tell him to keep my raincoat." + +Since the moment I had been hit, I had been afraid of one thing--that +I should break down, and not take my punishment like a man. I was +tensely determined that no matter how much I suffered I would not +whine or cry. In our regiment it had become a tradition that a man +must smile when he was wounded. One thing more than anything else +kept me firm in my determination. Art Pratt had walked just behind the +blanket until we came to the communication trench. Even then he was +loath to leave me. He could not trust himself to speak when I said, +"Good-by, Art, old pal." He grasped my hand, and holding it walked +along a few feet. Then he dropped my hand gently. There are some +things in life that stand out ineffably sweet and satisfying. For me +such a one was that last moment of farewell to Art. I had always +considered him the most fearless man in a regiment whose name was a +byword for reckless courage. Of all men on the Peninsula I valued his +opinion most. No recommendation for promotion, no award for valor, not +even the coveted V.C., could have been half so sweet as the few words +I heard Art say. With eyes shining, he turned to the man beside him +and said, almost savagely, "By God, he's a brick." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOMEWARD BOUND + + +As soon as Hoddinott and Pike had left me, two other stretcher bearers +carried me about two hundred yards farther to a rough shelter made of +poles laid across supports composed of sandbags. This was the dressing +station. On top of the poles, sandbags made it impervious to overhead +shelling. On three sides it was closed in, but the side nearest the +beach was open. From where my stretcher was placed I could just catch +a glimpse of the Ægean Sea and of the ships. Men on stretchers were +lined up in rows on the ground. Here and there a man groaned, but most +of the men were gazing at the roof, with set faces. Some who were only +slightly wounded were sitting up on stretchers while Red Cross men +bandaged up their legs or feet. A doctor was working away methodically +and rapidly. A little to the right another shelter housed the men who +were being sent to hospital with dysentery, enteric, or typhoid. As +soon as I was brought in, the doctor came to me. "I'll do this one +right away," he said to one of his assistants. The assistant stripped +the blanket from me and cut off the portions of the blood-stained +shirt still remaining. As he did so, something dropped on the ground. +The Red Cross man picked it up. + +"Here's the bullet that hit you," he said, putting it beside me on the +stretcher. "It dropped out of your shirt. It just got through you and +stuck in your shirtsleeve." + +"You'd better get him a little bag to keep his things in," said the +doctor. + +The Red Cross man produced a bag, took my pay book, and everything he +found in my pocket, and put them in it, then tied them to the +stretcher. By this time I was ready for the doctor to begin work. That +doctor knew his business. In a very few minutes he had probed and cut +and cleaned the wound, and adjusted a new bandage. The bleeding had +stopped by this time. He asked me the circumstances of being hit. He +told me to grip his hand and squeeze. I tried it with my right hand +but could do nothing; then I tried the left hand and succeeded a +little better. The doctor looked grave when I failed to grip with my +right hand, but brightened a little when I gripped with my left. All +the time he talked to me genially. That did me nearly as much good as +the surgical attention he gave me. He was a Canadian, he told me. At +the outbreak of the war he had been taking post-graduate courses at +Cambridge University in England. The University sent several hospital +units to the front, and he had come with this one. He knew Canada and +the States pretty thoroughly. + +"Where do you come from?" he asked me. + +"Newfoundland," I told him. "But I live in the United States." + +"What part?" he asked. + +"Cambridge, Massachusetts," I told him. + +"Oh," he said, "that's where Harvard University is." + +"Yes," I said, "I was a student there when I enlisted." + +The doctor called to a couple of the Red Cross men. "Here's a chap +from Harvard University in Cambridge, over in the United States." The +two Red Cross men came and told me they were students at Cambridge. +They talked to me for quite a little while. Before they left me to +attend to some more wounded, they made me promise to ask to be sent to +Cambridge, England, to hospital. The University had established a very +large and thoroughly equipped hospital there. All I had to do, they +said, was tell the people that I had been a student at the other +Cambridge, and I should be an honored guest. They persisted in calling +Harvard, Cambridge, and when they went away said that they were +overjoyed to have seen a man from the sister university. + +The doctor came back in a few minutes. + +"How are you feeling now?" he said. + +"I feel pretty well now," I answered, "but it's very close in here +with all these wounded men, and the place smells of chloroform. Can't +I be moved outside?" + +"I'll move you outside if you say so," said the doctor, "but you're +taking a chance. Occasionally a stray shell comes over this way. The +Turks are trying to locate a battery close to this place. Sometimes a +shell bursts prematurely, and drops around here." + +On the Peninsula, officers who gave men leave to go on dangerous +missions salved their consciences by first warning the men that in +doing it "they were taking a chance." The caution had come to mean +nothing. + +"All right, doctor," I said. "I'll take a chance." + +Two stretcher bearers came, and lifted me outside the shelter, where +the wind blew, fresh and invigorating. Just as they turned, I heard +the old familiar shriek that signaled the coming of a shell. It burst +almost overhead. Most of the missiles it contained dropped on the +other side of the shelter, but a few tiny pieces flew in my direction. +Three of them hit me in the right arm, a fourth landed in my leg. + +"Is anybody hit?" yelled a Red Cross man, whose accent proclaimed him +as an inhabitant of the country north of the Clyde. + +"I've got a couple of splinters," I said. + +I was lifted inside quickly. The Scotchman who put on some bandages on +the little cuts looked at me accusingly. + +"Ye were warned, before ye went," he said. "Ye desairved it. But +then," he added, "ye might hae got it worse. Ye're lucky ye did not +get it in the guts." + +After a little while my arms and back began to ache violently. Two +Red Cross men came along and moved me to another shelter similar to +the first. This was the clearing station. From here motor ambulances +carried the wounded to the shore. I knew from the burring speech of +the big sergeant in charge that he hailed from Scotland. I asked him +where he came from, and he told me that he came from Inverness. + +"Our regiment trained near there for a while," I said. "They +garrisoned Fort George." + +"Ye'll no' be meanin' the Seaforth Highlanders, laddie," said he. + +"No," I said, "we're Newfoundlanders, the First Newfoundland +Regiment." + +"Oh, I ken ye well, noo," he said, gloomily. "Ye're a bad lot; it took +six policemen to arrest one o' your mob. On the Peninsula they call ye +the Never Failing Little Darlings." After that he thawed quite a +little. "I'll look at your wound noo, laddie," he said, after a few +minutes. "Ye're awfu' light, laddie," he said as he raised me. "Puir +laddie," he added, pityingly. "Puir laddie. Ye're stairved. I'll get +ye Queen Mary's ration." + +"What's Queen Mary's ration?" I asked. + +"'T's Queen Mary's gift to the wounded. I'll get it for ye right +away." He went outside the clearing station and returned in a few +minutes with a cup of warm malted milk. "'T will help ye some till ye +get aboard the hospital ship. Here's the ambulance noo." + +A fleet of motor ambulances swayed over the uneven ground and rolled +up close to the clearing station. The drivers and helpers began +loading the stretchers aboard and one by one started away. Before I +was put into one, the big Scotchman took a large syringe and injected +a strong dose of morphia into my chest. + +"Ye'll find it hard," he said, "bumping over the hill, but ye'll soon +be all right and comfortable." + +"Tell me," I said, "shall I get into a real bed on the ship?" + +He laughed. "Sure ye will, laddie. The best bed ye've had since ye've +been in the airmy. Good luck to ye, laddie." + +Each of the motor ambulances carried four men, two above and two +below. I was put on top, and the door flap pulled over. We jolted and +pitched and swayed. Once we turned short and skidded at a curve. I +knew just the very place, although it was dark in the ambulance. I +had gone over the road often with ration parties. Fortunately the +morphia was beginning to take effect, and dulled the pain to some +extent. At last the ambulance stopped, somebody pulled the curtain +back, and we were lifted out. We were on West Beach. A pier ran out +into the sea. A man-o'-war launch towing a string of boats glided in +near enough to let her first boat come close to the pier. The breeze +was quite fresh, and made me shiver. The stretchers were laid across +the boats, close to each other. Soon all the boats were filled. I +could see the man on the stretcher to the right of me, but the one on +the other side I could not see. I tried to turn my head but could not. +The eyes of the man next me were large with pain. I smiled at him, but +instead of smiling back at me, his lip curled resentfully, and he +turned over on his side so that he could face away from me. As he did, +the blanket slipped from his shoulder, and I saw on his shoulder strap +the star of a second lieutenant. I had committed the unpardonable sin. +I had smiled at an officer as if I had been an equal, forgetting that +he was not made of common clay. Once after that, when he turned his +head, his eyes met mine disdainfully. That time I did not smile. I +have often laughed at the incident since, but there on that boat I was +boiling with rage. Not a word had passed between us, but his +expression in turning away had been eloquent. I cursed him and the +system that produced him, and swore that never again would I put on a +uniform. Gradually I calmed down; the morphia had got in its work. In +a little while I had sunk into a comatose condition. I remember, in a +hazy sort of way, being taken aboard a large lighter. There were tiers +of stretchers on both sides. This time I was in the lower tier, and +was wondering how soon the man above me would fall on me. At last I +went to sleep. When I awoke, I was alone and in mid-air. All about me +was black. By that time I was completely paralyzed from the waist up. +I could see only directly above my head. It was night, and the sky was +dotted with twinkling stars. I could feel no movement, but the stars +came slowly nearer and nearer. "What was I doing here in mid-air?" +Subconsciously I thought of the body of Mohammed, suspended between +earth and heaven. Now I felt I had hit on the answer. I was going to +heaven, and the thought was very comforting. Suddenly the stars +stopped, and after a pause began receding. A face appeared above me, +then the head and shoulders of a man dressed in the uniform of a naval +officer. This suggested something else to me. The officers of the +Flying Corps wear naval uniforms. I decided that while I was asleep I +had been transferred to the Flying Corps. + +"Hello, old chap," said the naval officer. "Do you know where you +are?" + +"No," I said. "Am I going to heaven, or have I joined the Flying +Corps?" + +"No," said the officer. "You're on the stretcher being hoisted aboard +the hospital ship." + +Two big, strapping, bronzed sailors approached and lifted the +stretcher on to an elevator; they stepped on and the elevator +descended. We stopped at the end of a short white-walled passageway, +lighted by electricity. The sailors grasped the stretcher as lightly +as if it had been empty, walked along to the end of the passageway +into a ward. It had formerly been a dining saloon. Large square +windows looked out upon the sea, everything was white and clean and +orderly. After the dirt and filth of the Peninsula it was like a +beautiful dream. The sailors lifted me gently into a bed and stood +there waiting for orders from the nurse. As I looked at them I thought +of our boys standing in the trenches during a bombardment and yelling, +"Come on, the navy," and I murmured, "Come on, the navy;" and then +when I looked at the calm, self-possessed, capable-looking nursing +sister, moving about amongst the wounded, I said, and never had it +meant so much to me, "Good old Britain." + +The string of boats in which I had come was the batch that filled the +quota of the patients of the hospital ship. In about half an hour she +began to move. An orderly came around with meals. The doctor came in +after a little while and began examining the patients. From some part +of the ship not far from where I was came the sound of voices singing +hymns. It was the last touch needed to emphasize the difference +between the hospital ship and the Peninsula. Sunday evening on the +Peninsula had meant no more than any other. The ship moved along so +quietly that she seemed scarcely to stir. The doctor and the nurse +worked noiselessly; over everything hung the spirit of Sabbath calm. +Gallipoli might have been as far away as Mars. + + [Illustration: With the French at Seddel Bahr] + +It must have been about nine o'clock when an orderly came around +and turned out all the lights except a reading lamp over the desk +where the night sister sat. All that night I could not sleep. About +midnight the night sister gave me a sleeping draught, but it did no +good. I was suffering the most intense pain, but I was so glad to be +away from the dirt of the trenches that I felt nothing else counted. +The next day I was a great deal weaker, and could scarcely talk. When +the doctor came around to dress my wounds, I could only smile at him. +All that day the sister came to my bed at frequent intervals. I was +too weak then to eat. Two or three times she gave me some sort of +broth through a little feeding bowl. In the evening I had sunk into +apathy. The sister sent for the doctor. He came, felt my pulse, took +my temperature, then turned and whispered to the sister. She called an +orderly, and I heard her say, "Bring the screens for this man." The +orderly went away and in a few minutes returned with two screens large +enough to entirely conceal my bed. When the screens had been put in +position, the sister came in, wiped my mouth and forehead, and went +away. On the other side of the screen I heard her speaking softly to +the doctor. The whole thing seemed to me something entirely apart +from me. I felt that I was watching a scene in a play, and that I +found it of little interest. After about an hour the doctor and the +sister came in again. + +"Feeling all right, old man?" said the doctor. + +"Yes," I said. "Fine." + +"Sister," said the doctor, "give this man anything he wants." + +The sister bent over me. She was a woman between thirty and +thirty-five, of the type that inspires confidence; every word and +movement reflected poise, and there was a calmness and serenity about +her that you knew she could have acquired only as a result of having +seen and eased much human suffering. + +"If there is anything you would care to have, please ask for it, and +if it is at all possible we will get it for you," she said, in a +softly modulated voice, with the slightest suspicion of a drawl; it +was the voice of a cultivated English-woman; after the Peninsula, a +woman's voice was like a tonic. + +"Yes," I said, "I want chicken and wine." + +I had not the slightest desire for chicken and wine just then, but I +felt that I had to ask for something, and the best I could think of +was chicken and wine. She smiled at me, went away, and in about +fifteen minutes she returned with a little tray. She had brought the +chicken and wine. She had minced up the chicken, and she fed me little +pieces of it with a spoon. In a little cup with a spout she had the +wine. When I had eaten a little of the chicken, she put the spout +between my lips; I had expected some port wine, but when I tasted, it +was champagne. I drank it to the very last drop. + +"How do you feel now?" said the sister. + +"Never felt better," I answered. + +"That's very nice," she said. "I hope you'll get to sleep soon." + +Then she went away, and in a few minutes the night sister came on. She +peeped in at me, smiled, and went away. All that night I looked up at +a tiny spot on the ceiling. In the board directly above my eyes, there +was a curious knot. A little flaw ran across the center of it. It +reminded me of a postman carrying his bag of letters. It seemed to me +that night that I could stand the pain no longer. My back seemed to be +tearing apart, as if a man was pulling on each shoulder, trying to +separate them from the spine. I tried to jump up from the bed but +could not move a muscle. I felt that it would be better to tear my +back apart myself at once and have it over, but when I tried to move +my arms I found them useless. It must have been well into the morning +when the night sister came around again. The doctor was with her. He +had a large syringe in his hand. He said nothing. Neither did I. I +closed my eyes. I wanted to be alone. I felt him open my shirt at the +neck and rub some liquid on my chest. I opened my eyes. He was putting +the needle of the long-syringe into my chest where he had rubbed it +with iodine. The skin was leathery and at first the needle would not +penetrate. At last it went in with a rush. It seemed at least a foot +long. He rubbed another spot, and plunged the needle in a second time. +"We've got to get him asleep," he said to the night sister. "If he's +not asleep in an hour, call me again." Very soon a drowsiness crept +over me. Nothing seemed to matter. I wanted to rest. In a short time I +was asleep. When I woke, it was broad daylight. The day sister was +standing by my bed, smiling. She turned around and beckoned to some +one. The doctor came close to the bed, felt my pulse, took my +temperature again, and smiled. "Quite all right, sister," he said. + +An orderly came in, lifted me up in bed, washed my face and hands, and +brought in a tray with chicken. There was the same little feeding cup. +This time it had port wine in it. The orderly propped me up in bed, +putting cushions carefully behind my back and shoulders. The sister +and the doctor superintended while he was doing it. Lifting a wounded +man is a science. An unskilful person, no matter how well intentioned, +may sometimes do incalculable damage. Putting a strain on the wrong +muscle may undo the work of the doctor. I could see out one of the +large windows now, and I noticed that we were passing a good many +ships, mostly vessels of war. They seemed to increase in number every +few minutes; and by the time I had finished breakfast, we were in the +midst of a forest of funnels and rigging. Soon the engines stopped. +When the doctor came around to dress my back, I asked him where we +were. + +"We're in Alexandria, now," he said. "In an hour's time we'll have +unloaded. You're the last patient to be dressed. We're doing you last +so that you won't have so long to wait before the bandages are +changed." + +"Doctor," I asked, "how long will it be before this wound gets +better?" + +"I don't know," he said. "It's impossible to tell until you've been +X-rayed. Last night we were certain you were dying, but this morning +you are perfectly normal." + +In a short time the ward filled with men from the shore, landing +officers, orderlies with messages, sergeants in charge of ambulance +corps, and an army of stretcher bearers. The orderlies of the hospital +ship began putting out the kits of the wounded at the foot of their +beds. The disembarkation began as soon as the doctor had completed his +dressing. I was propped up in bed, and could see a long line of motor +ambulances on the pier. The less seriously wounded cases were taken +off first. The sister told me that these were going by train to Cairo. +Those who could not stand the train journey were going to different +hospitals in Alexandria. I was to go to Alexandria, she said. A +middle-aged man passed us on a stretcher. He was hit in the leg, and +sat on the stretcher, smiling contentedly, and looking about him +interestedly. When he saw the sister, his eyes lighted up. + +"Good-by, sister," he shouted. "I'll see you again, the next time I'm +wounded." + +The sister returned his good-by. Then she turned to me, and said: +"That man was on the hospital train that left Antwerp the day the +Germans shelled it in 1914. When he came in the other night I didn't +recognize him, but he remembered me." + +While I waited for my turn the sister told me that she had been in the +first batch of nurses to cross the Channel at the beginning of the +war. She had been in the hospitals in Belgium that were shelled by the +Germans. At eight o'clock in the morning she had left Antwerp on the +last hospital train, and at nine o'clock the Germans occupied the +town. She had been on different hospital ships and trains ever since. +Once only had she had a rest. That was some time in the summer of +1915. She expected a week off in London at Christmas, when the ship +she was now attached to laid up for repairs. The boat I was on, she +said, carried ordinarily seven hundred and fifty wounded. At present +she carried nine hundred. They generally arrived in Suvla Bay in the +morning, and left that night, filled with wounded. At the time of the +first landing at Anzac an hour after the assault began they left with +twelve hundred wounded Australians. The sisters were sent out from a +central depot in England, and went to the various fronts. When the +stretcher bearers came to take me away, the sister gathered up my +belongings in a little bag, tied it to the stretcher, put a pillow +under my head, and nodded a bright good-by. + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Where troops landed in Dardanelles showing Fort Sed-ne-behi + battered to pieces by Allied Fleet] + +The stretcher bearers, two stalwart Australians, took me to the +elevator, across the deck, and out onto the pier. It was now getting +toward evening. A lady stopped the stretcher between the pier and the +ambulance, and handed one of the bearers a little white packet +containing a towel, soap, tooth-brush and tooth-powder. Without +waiting to be thanked she went on to intercept another stretcher. The +stretcher bearer put the package under my pillow. "Ready, Bill," said +one of the bearers with the nasal twang of the Bushman. "Lift away," +said Bill, and they lifted the stretcher up on the top tier of the +ambulance wagon, without stepping up from the ground. They did it with +the same motion as when two men swing a bag of grain. But it was +not in the least uncomfortable for me. These Australian stretcher +bearers who meet the incoming hospital ships are amazingly strong. +There is an easy gracefulness in the way they swing along with a +stretcher that makes you trust them. I was the last man to go in that +ambulance wagon, and in a few minutes we were whirling smoothly along +good roads amid the familiar smells of Egyptian bazaars. This +ambulance drive was a good deal different from the one on the +Peninsula just after I had been wounded. After about half an hour the +ambulance swerved off the smooth asphalt road onto a gravel road, +slowed down, and ran into a yard. The Australians reappeared, opened +the flaps, and began unloading. We were in the square of a large +hospital. All around us were buildings. A fine-looking, bronzed man, +with the uniform of a colonel, was directing some Sikhs who were +carrying the stretchers from the ambulances into the different +buildings. All the stretchers were lying on the ground in a long row. +As soon as each one was inspected by the colonel, he told the +stretcher bearers where to take it. When he came to mine, he said, +"Dangerously wounded, Ward three." Then, to the stretcher bearers, +"Careful, very careful." + +Ward three was a long ward with stone floor and plaster walls; it +contained about fifty beds. More than half of the beds had little +"cradles" at the foot; when I came to know hospitals, I learned that +these were to prevent the bedclothes from irritating wounded legs. In +a few minutes a doctor came around, gave orders, and the night sister +began bandaging up the wounds of the men who had come in. The sister +who arranged my bandages was Scotch, and the burr of her speech was +pleasant in my ears. She came back about ten o'clock and gave me a +sleeping potion. The change from the hospital ship must have been too +much excitement for me, because I could not get asleep that night. But +I did not feel as I had felt on the hospital ship. I have very seldom +experienced such joy as I did that night when I found that I could +move my head. I did it very slowly, and with great pain, and rested a +long time before I tried to turn it back again. The door was right +opposite my bed. I could see the sand shining white in the moonlight +in the square, and right ahead of me a large marquee where, I found +out later, some of the convalescent men slept. A man about four beds +away from mine was dying. When I had first come in he had been +groaning at intervals, but now he was silent. About one or two o'clock +an orderly came running softly in rubber-soled shoes to tell the +sister that the man had died. Half an hour later two men with a +particularly long stretcher, appeared in the ward. They stepped +quietly, trying not to disturb the sleepers. I saw them walk along to +the bed of the dead man, and go in behind the screen. After a little +while the ward orderly moved the screens back, and the stretcher +bearers reappeared. Over the burden on the stretcher was draped a +Union Jack. Often after that while I was in Ward three I saw the same +soft-stepping men come in at night and depart silently with the +flag-draped stretcher. Many of the wounded left the ward in that way, +but their places were soon filled by incoming wounded. + +The first morning I was in Ward three the doctor ordered me to be +X-rayed. The X-ray apparatus was in another building. To get to it I +had to pass through the square. The sun was too hot in the morning for +us to cross the square. We therefore skirted it under the shade of +the long portico that runs along the outside of nearly all buildings +in Egypt. In beds outside the building were men with dysentery. At the +corner of the square a plank gangway led to the quarters of the +enteric patients. Just before I reached the X-ray room, a man hailed +me from one of the beds. It was Tom Smythe, a boy I had known since I +was able to walk. All the time I had been on the Peninsula I had not +seen him, nor had I heard any news of him. On the way back from the +X-ray room, the stretcher bearers stopped near his bed while I talked +with him. He had been in the hospital about two weeks, he said, and +hoped to get to England on the next boat. He promised to come to see +me in my ward as soon as he was allowed up. The next day he came, +although he was not supposed to be up, and brought with him a chap +named Varney. Varney had been in the section next mine at Stob's Camp +in Scotland, he told me. Smythe and Varney vied with each other after +that in trying to make me comfortable. To me that has always been the +most remarkable thing about our regiment: their loyalty to a comrade +in trouble. I have known Newfoundlanders to fight with each other, +using every weapon from profanity to tent mallets while in camp; on +the Peninsula I have seen these same men carrying each other's packs, +digging dugouts, and taking the other man's fatigue work. Varney was +very much distressed to see the condition I was in. He knew I was fond +of reading, and searched all over the place for books and magazines. +Once he brought me three American magazines, one _Saturday Evening +Post_ and two _Munsey's_. They were nearly two years old, but I read +them as eagerly as if they had just been published. + +During the six weeks I was in hospital in Alexandria, I improved +wonderfully. The doctor in charge of the ward took a special interest +in my progress, and seemed to pride himself on having handled the case +successfully. Every day or so he brought in a doctor from some other +ward to show him my wounds and the X-ray plates. He was very careful +and tried in dressing to cause me as little pain as possible. "Poor +old chap," he would say, when he saw me wince, "poor old chap." I +think there was a great deal of psychology in my getting well. In this +Twenty-first General Hospital nothing was omitted that could make one +comfortable. Every morning an orderly washed me. The orderlies were +all very considerate, except one. He did not last very long in our +ward. He began washing the patients at four o'clock in the morning. He +always made me think of a hostler washing a carriage. When he had +washed my arms he always let them drop in a way that reminded me of +the shafts of a wagon. He was soon replaced by a chap who did not +begin his work until seven. At eight we had breakfast: fruit, cereal, +and eggs. At eleven we had soda water and crackers or sweet biscuits. +At one came dinner: soup, chicken, and vegetables, half a chicken to +each man, with a dessert of pudding or custard. At four we had tea, +with fish, and at eight came supper: cocoa and bread and butter, with +jelly. In the morning visitors came in and brought us the daily +papers. Sisters of the V.A.D.--Voluntary Aid Detachment--came in each +afternoon to relieve the regular nursing sisters. They were mostly +Englishwomen resident in Egypt. Most of their men folks were at one of +the fronts. They read to the men who could not hold books in their +hands, talked to us cheerfully, and wrote letters for us. Some of them +brought us little delicacies: grapes and chocolate. Men in hospital +have no money. Any money they have is taken away when they arrive and +refunded when they leave. Like most of the rules in the army to-day, +this was made for the old regulars. When the regulars felt they needed +a rest they went into hospital; the only way they could be stopped was +to keep all their money away from them. To-day two million men suffer +as a result. Ever since the day I left the Peninsula I had wanted +chocolate. But I had no money, and for a long time I had to go without +it. At last young Varney got me some. He had gone errands for a +wounded Australian, who had been given some money from outside, and +the Australian had given him some; he could hardly wait to get to me +with it. + +As soon as a man was sufficiently recovered to travel, he was sent to +England. New men were always coming in to take the places of the old. +A lot of them were Australians. I kept asking them all as they came in +if they could tell me anything of my friend White George. Of course a +nickname is very little to go on. A man who was White George in one +part of the trench might be Queensland Harry in another. All I knew +about him was that he was in the Fifteenth Battalion, and that he had +a beard. At last a chap did come in one evening from the Fifteenth +Battalion. I was in bed at the time, and could not get a chance to ask +him about White George. The next day the poor chap was writhing and +screaming in the terrible spasms of tetanus, and for two days the +screens were around his bed. On the third day he was better. As soon +as Varney came in, he wheeled me up to the Australian's bed. I asked +him what was the matter with him, and he told me that he had a flesh +wound in the head that didn't bother him, but that his left leg was +off at the knee. + +"Are you from the Fifteenth Battalion?" I asked. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Do you know a chap in that battalion," I said, "that they call White +George?" + +The wounded Australian looked at me in a quizzical way. Then he +drawled slowly, "Well, I think I do. Why, damn it, man, I'm White +George." + +Then he recognized me. "Why, it's the Newfoundland Corporal. Hello, +Corporal. You're just the man I wanted to see," he said. "I stood on +that bomb all right, and got away with it--once. When I tried it a +second time, I put the bomb on the firing platform, and when I +stepped on it, my head was over the parapet; Johnny Turk got me in the +head, and the bomb did the rest." + +"Don't you wish now you hadn't tried the experiment?" I said. + +"No," said White George, "I feel perfectly satisfied." + +"By the way," I said, as I was leaving him, "why do they call you +White George? Your hair is dark." + +"My real name," he said, "is George White, but on the regimental roll +it reads 'White, George.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"FEENISH" + + +It must have been about the sixth week that I was in Egypt that one of +the Australians came over to my bed and told me that my name was on +the list of men to go to England by the next boat. I was allowed up +for two hours in the afternoon; and when I got up I looked at the +list, and found my name there. An orderly from the stores came in and +asked me for a list of clothing I needed. He came back in about an +hour with a complete uniform and kit. The sister told me that I was to +go to England the next morning. At ten o'clock the next day I was +taken out to the little clearing station in the square, and put in +with a lot of other men on stretchers. An officer came around and +inspected our kits. A little later a sergeant from the pay office gave +each man an advance of twelve shillings. After that the loading began. +A line of about twenty ambulances filed out of the yard and through +the malodorous byways of Alexandria to the waterfront. Here we were +put aboard the hospital ship _Rewa_, an old rocky tub that had been an +Indian troopship before the war. I learned this from an old English +regular in the stretcher next me. He had seen her often before, and +had made a trip from England to India in her once. The _Rewa_ was so +full of men that the latest arrivals had to go on deck in hammocks. +The thought of a trip across the Bay of Biscay as deck passenger on +the _Rewa_ was not very attractive, but our fears on this point were +soon allayed by one of the ship's officers. We were not going to +England on the _Rewa_, he said. We were going to Lemnos Island, and in +Mudros Bay we should transship into the _Aquitania_. When we had +cleared Alexandria Harbor, the wind had freshened considerably. All +that night and the next day we pitched and rolled heavily. The second +night, when we had expected to reach Mudros Bay, we were still +twenty-four hours away from it. Canvas sheets had to be rigged above +the bulwarks to prevent the spray from drenching the men in the +stretchers on deck. The next day a good many men were sea sick, and it +was not till the next evening that the storm abated. Even then it was +too rough to get close to the big ship. We did try to get near her +once, and succeeded in getting one hawser fast, but the wind and tide +drove us so hard against her, that the captain of the _Aquitania_ +would take no more risks and ordered us off. We had to lay to all that +evening, and the next morning. At noon the wind died down enough to +begin the transshipment from the smaller ships. We waited while seven +other hospital ships transferred their human freight, and then moved +up near enough to put gangways between the two boats. The change was +effected very expeditiously. We were soon transferred, and settled in +our new quarters. I was in a ward with some Australian troops on the +top deck. Board petitions had been run up from it to the promenade +deck, making a long bright, well ventilated corridor. There was only +one drawback on the _Aquitania_. The sister in charge of our ward did +not like Colonials, and made it pretty plain. She was rather a +superior person who did not like to dress wounds. We were to make two +stops before we arrived in England, I was told; one at Salonica to +take on some sick, the other at Naples for coal. The Salonica stop +took place at night. We did not go into the harbor; probably it was +not deep enough for the _Aquitania_. The sick were taken aboard +outside. We came to Naples early one fine Sunday morning. As we went +into the harbor, I could see through the window Mt. Vesuvius, smoking +steadily. We were in Naples at the same time as the big _Olympic_, and +the _Mauretania_, the sister ship of the _Lusitania_. It was the time +that the Germans had protested that the British hospital ships carried +troops to the Dardanelles on the return trip. The neutral consuls in +Naples went aboard the _Olympic_ and _Mauretania_ that Sunday and +investigated. The charge, of course, was unfounded. An Italian general +and his staff came aboard our ship and were shown around the wards. He +was a dapper little man, who gesticulated vehemently and bowed to all +the sisters. The sister who did not like Colonials was speaking to him +when he came through our ward. She was trying to impress him with the +excellent treatment our wounded received. She pointed out each man to +him, in the same way a keeper does at the zoological gardens. + +"They get this every evening," she said, indicating the supper we were +eating. "And what is this?" she said, looking at some apricot jam on +a saucer on my bed. + +"Apricot jam, sister," I said, then added sweetly, in my best society +fashion, "We get it every evening." I might have told her that I had +had it not only every evening, but every noon and morning while I was +on the Peninsula. + +"And what is this?" she said, pointing to the cup in my hand. "Is it +tea or cocoa?" + +"It's tea," I said. "We get it every evening,--just as if we were +human beings, and not Colonials." After that I think she liked +Colonials even less. + +The Bay of Biscay was just a little rough when we went through it, but +it did not affect the _Aquitania_ very much. + +When the word went around on the day that land had been sighted, every +man that could hobble went on deck to get a first glimpse of England. +We could not see very far because of the thick mist of an English +December. About ten o'clock we were at the entrance to Southampton, +but the tide was out, or the chief engineer was out, so we could not +go up until that evening. That last day was a tedious one. Every one +was eager to get ashore. To most of the men, England was home; and +after the trenches and the hospitals, home meant much. + +As soon as we landed, a train took us to a place near London. It was +twenty-five miles from the hospital that was our destination. Here we +were met by automobiles that took us to the hospital for +Newfoundlanders at Wandsworth Common, London. There were only half a +dozen of us from Newfoundland. At first the doctor on the _Aquitania_ +persisted in calling us Canadians, and wanted to send us to +Walton-on-Thames. It took us two hours to convince him that +Newfoundland had no connection with Canada. Two automobiles were +enough for our little party. The man who drove me in told me that he +had come a hundred miles to do it. All the automobiles that met the +hospital trains were loaned by people who wanted to do whatever they +could to help the cause. He was a dairy farmer, he said, and gave me +uninteresting statistical information about cows and the amount of +milk he sold in London each day. But apart from that, I enjoyed the +smooth drive over the faultless roads. + +The Third London hospital at Wandsworth Common is a military hospital; +and although the discipline is strict, everything possible is done +for the comfort of the patients. Concerts are given every few +evenings; almost every afternoon people send around automobiles to +take the wounded men for a drive. Twice a week visitors come in for +three hours in the afternoon. At Wandsworth I stayed only a very few +days. Two days before Christmas I was sent to Esher to the +convalescent home run by the V.A.D. Sisters. Nobody at this hospital +received any remuneration. Esher is in Surrey, not many miles from +London. Even in the winter the weather was pleasant. Here we had a +great deal of liberty, being allowed out all day until six at night. +Only thirty men were in Esher at one time. The hospital contained a +piano, victrola, pool table, and materials for playing all sorts of +games. At Esher one felt like an individual, and not like a cog in a +machine. Paddy Walsh, the corporal, who had hesitated so long about +leaving me on the Peninsula, was at Esher when I arrived. He was +almost well now, he told me, and was looking forward to a furlough. +After his furlough he was going back, he said, in the first draft. "No +forming fours for me, around Scotland," said Walsh, "drilling a bunch +of rookies. I want to get back with the boys." + +After two weeks, Esher closed for repairs. We all went back to the +hospital at Wandsworth. News had just come of the evacuation of the +Peninsula. In the ward I was sent to were half a dozen of our boys. I +asked them what was the trouble, and they told me frozen feet. "Frozen +feet," I said, "in Gallipoli? You're joking." They assured me that +they were not and referred me to their case sheets that hung beside +the beds. Shortly before the evacuation a storm had swept over the +Peninsula. First it had rained for two days, the third day it snowed, +and the next it froze. A torrent of water had poured down the mountain +side, flooding the trenches, and carrying with it blankets, +equipments, rifles, portions of the parapet, and the dead bodies of +men who had been drowned while they were sleeping. The men who were +left had to forsake their trenches and go above ground. Turks and +British alike suffered. The last day of the storm, while some of our +men were waiting on the beach to be taken to the hospital ship, they +told me they saw the bodies of at least two thousand men, frozen to +death. Our regiment stood it perhaps better than any of the others. It +was the sort of climate they were accustomed to. The Australasians +suffered tremendously. I met one man who had been on the Peninsula +during the evacuation. They had got away with the loss of two men +killed and one wounded for the entire British force. The papers that +day said that the Turks claimed to have driven the entire British army +into the sea, and to have gained an immense amount of booty. The booty +gained, our men said, was bully beef and biscuits. Far from being +driven into the sea, the British got off in two hours without the +Turks suspecting at all; and it was not till the second day after that +the Turks really found out. It had taken a great deal of ingenuity to +devise a scheme that would let the evacuation take place secretly. The +distance from the shore was about four miles. As soon as the troops +knew they were to leave, they ripped up the sand bags on the parapets, +and broke the glass in the periscopes, so they would be useless to the +enemy. Then they attached the broken periscopes to the parapets, so +that the Turks looking over would see the periscopes above the trench, +just as they would any ordinary day at the front. Only one problem +remained unsolved. As soon as the Turks heard the firing cease +entirely, they would think something was not as it should be. If they +began to investigate before the troops got away, it might mean +annihilation. At first it was planned to leave a small party scattered +through the trenches, but this meant that they would have to be +sacrificed in order to allow their comrades to escape. An Australian +devised a scheme. He took a number of rifles, placed them at different +points along the parapets, and lashed them to it. In each one he put a +cartridge. From the trigger he suspended a bully beef tin, weighted +with sand. This was not quite heavy enough to pull the trigger. On top +of the rifle he placed another tin, filled with water, and pierced a +small hole in the bottom of it. After a while the water, dripping +slowly from the top tin, made the lower one heavy enough to pull the +trigger. Some of the tins were heavier than the others, and the rifles +did not all go off at once. As soon as things were ready, the troops +moved off silently, "Just as if they were going into dugouts," Art +Pratt wrote me. They got aboard the warships waiting for them in the +bay, and went to Mudros and Imbros. The evacuation was facilitated by +the fact that the Salt Lake that had been dried up when I was there +was swollen high by the rain of the previous weeks. All that night the +firing continued at intervals, and kept up all through the next day. +The Turks, taking the usual cautious survey of the enemy trenches, +saw, as they did every other day, periscopes sticking up over the +parapets and heard the ordinary reports of rifle fire; to them it +looked like what the official reports call a "quiet day on the Eastern +front." + +One other item of news I received that pleased me very greatly. Art +Pratt had taken my place as corporal of the section, and had sent me +word that he had got the sniper who shot me. + +After I had been back in the Wandsworth Common hospital a few days, I +was "boarded." That is, I was sent up to be examined by a board of +doctors. They found me "unfit for further service," and I was sent to +my depot in Scotland for disposal. The next day I was given all my +back pay and took the train for Ayr, Scotland. There I was given my +discharge "in consequence of wounds received in action in Gallipoli." +Major Whitaker, the officer in charge, paused and looked at me, while +he was signing the discharge paper. + +"I imagine," he said, "you feel rather sorry that you caught that +train, Corporal." + +"What train is that, sir?" I said. + +"The one at Aldershot," he answered, as he completed his signature. I +smiled noncommittally, but did not answer him. + +Looking back now it seems to me that catching that train is one thing +I have never regretted. I was convinced of it that day in Ayr. For a +few weeks past convalescents of the First Battalion had been dribbling +into Ayr. You could tell them by their wan, fever-wasted faces, and by +the little ribbons of claret and white that they wore on the sleeves +of their coats, the claret and white that marked them as the "service +battalion." And there was in their faces, too, the calm, confident +look of men who had hobnobbed with death, and had come away unafraid. +Every one of them had the same tale. "We're tired of the depot +already. They're a new bunch here, and we want to get back with the +crowd we know." There was no talk of patriotism, or duty; all this had +given place to the pride of local achievement. To those men, my little +claret and white ribbon was all the introduction I needed. I was a +member of the First Battalion. As I hobbled along the main street of +Ayr, a crowd of them bore down on me. A heterogeneous bunch they were, +bored to death with the quietness of the Scottish town, shouting +boisterous greetings long before they reached me. The lot of us took +dinner together and afterwards went in a body to the theater. The +theater proprietor refused unconditionally to take any money from us. +We were "returned wounded," and the best seats in the house were ours. +Four or five of our party had just returned from Edinburgh, where they +had spent their furloughs. They had been received royally. The civic +authorities had made arrangements with the owners of the Royal Hotel +in Edinburgh to put the Newfoundlanders up free of cost during their +stay. The First Battalion had spent their money freely while they were +garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, and the authorities had not forgotten +it. + +I hated to leave those men of the First Battalion, who welcomed me so +heartily. I was glad at the thought of getting back to the States +again; but it was strange to think that I was no longer a soldier, +that my days of fighting were over. An inexpressible sadness came over +me as I bade good-by to them. Some of their names I do not know, but +they were all my friends. There are others like them in various +hospitals in England and Egypt; and also in a shady, tree-dotted +ravine on the Peninsula of Gallipoli there is a row of graves, where +also are my friends of the First Newfoundland Regiment. + +The men our regiment lost, although they gladly fought a hopeless +fight, have not died in vain. Constantinople has not been taken, and +the Gallipoli campaign is fast becoming a memory, but things our men +did there will not soon be forgotten. The foremost advance on the +Suvla Bay front is Donnelly's Post on Caribou Ridge, made by the +Newfoundlanders. It is called Donnelly's Post because it is here that +Lieutenant Donnelly won his Military Cross. The hitherto unknown ridge +from which the Turkish machine guns poured their concentrated death +into our trenches stands as a monument to the initiative of the +Newfoundlanders. It is now Caribou Ridge as a recognition of the men +who wear the deer's head badge. From Caribou Ridge the Turks could +enfilade parts of our firing line. For weeks they had continued to +pick off our men one by one. You could almost tell when your turn was +coming. I know, because from Caribou Ridge came the bullet that sent +me off the Peninsula. The machine guns on Caribou Ridge not only swept +part of our trench, but commanded all of the intervening ground. This +ground was almost absolutely devoid of cover. Several attempts had +been made to rush those guns. All these attacks had failed, held up by +the murderous machine-gun fire. Whole companies had essayed the task, +but all had been repulsed, and almost annihilated. It remained for +Lieutenant Donnelly to essay the impossible. Under cover of darkness, +Lieutenant Donnelly, with only eight men, surprised the Turks in the +post that now bears his name. The captured machine gun he turned on +the Turks to repulse constantly launched bomb and rifle attacks. Just +at dusk one evening Donnelly stole out to Caribou Ridge and took the +Turks by storm. They had been accustomed before that to see large +bodies of men swarm over the parapet in broad daylight, and had been +able to wipe them out with machine-gun fire. All that night the Turks +strove to recover their lost ground. The darkness that confused the +enemy was the Newfoundlanders' ally. One of Donnelly's men, Jack +Hynes, crawled away from his companions to a point about two hundred +yards to the left. All through the night he poured a rapid stream of +fire into the flank of the enemy's attacking party. So steadily did he +keep it up that the Turks were deluded into thinking we had men there +in force. When reinforcements arrived, Donnelly's eight men were +reduced to two. Dawn showed the havoc wrought by the gallant little +group. The ground in front of the post was a shambles of piled up +Turkish corpses. But daylight showed something more to the credit of +the Newfoundlanders than the mere taking of the ridge. It showed Jack +Hynes purposely falling back over exposed ground to draw the enemy's +attention from Sergeant Greene, who was coolly making trip after trip +between the ridge and our lines, carrying a wounded man in his arms +every time until all our wounded were in safety. Hynes and Greene were +each given a Distinguished Conduct Medal. None was ever more nobly +earned. + +The night the First Newfoundland Regiment landed in Suvla Bay there +were about eleven hundred of us. In December when the British forces +evacuated Gallipoli, to our regiment fell the honor of being nominated +to fight the rearguard action. This is the highest recognition a +regiment can receive; for the duty of a rear guard in a retreat is to +keep the enemy from reaching the main body of troops, even if this +means annihilation for itself. At Lemnos Island the next day when the +roll was called, of the eleven hundred men who landed when I did, only +one hundred and seventy-one answered "Here." + +After the First Newfoundland Regiment left the Peninsula, they went to +Egypt to guard the Suez Canal from the long-expected attack of the +Turks. After they had been rested a little while, they were recruited +up to full fighting strength, again, and were sent to France. In the +recent drive of the Allies against the German positions on the Somme, +the regiment has won for itself fresh laurels. The "Times" +correspondent at British headquarters in France sent the following on +July 13th: + +"The Newfoundlanders were the only overseas troops engaged in these +operations. The story of their heroic part cannot yet be told in full, +but when it is it will make Newfoundland very proud. The battalion was +pushed up as what may be called the third wave in the attack on +probably the most formidable section of the whole German front through +an almost overwhelming artillery fire and a cross-ground swept by an +enfilading machine-gun fire from hidden positions. The men behaved +with completely noble steadiness and courage." + +THE END + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | List of Illustrations: Suddul Bahr replaced with Seddel Bahr | + | Page 3: unneccessary replaced with unnecessary | + | Page 115: nothng replaced with nothing | + | Page 129: "who had been listening to discussion joined in." | + | replaced with | + | "who had been listening to the discussion joined in." | + | Page 136: three-o three replaced with three-o-three | + | Page 146: guerilla replaced with guerrilla | + | Page 171: "some one one" replaced with "some one" | + | Page 208: penerate replaced with penetrate | + | Page 217: litle replaced with little | + | Page 233: parapest replaced with parapets | + | | + | Note that the word 'Turrk' as seen in Irish dialog has been | + | retained as dialect. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Trenching at Gallipoli, by John Gallishaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + +***** This file should be named 35119-8.txt or 35119-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/1/35119/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Trenching at Gallipoli + The personal narrative of a Newfoundlander with the + ill-fated Dardanelles expedition + +Author: John Gallishaw + +Release Date: January 31, 2011 [EBook #35119] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<img border="0" src="images/cover.jpg" width="40%" alt="Cover" /> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen" style="font-weight: bold;">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<br /> +<p class="noin">Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has been preserved.</p> +<p class="noin" style="text-align: left;">Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. +For a complete list, please see the <span style="white-space: nowrap;"><a href="#TN">end of this document</a>.</span></p> +<p class="noin">Click on the images to see a larger version.</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"><a name="frontis" id="frontis"></a> +<a href="images/frontis.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/frontis.jpg" width="52%" alt="Dugouts" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Dugouts<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<h1>TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI</h1> + +<h3>THE PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A<br /> +NEWFOUNDLANDER WITH THE ILL-FATED<br /> +DARDANELLES EXPEDITION</h3> + +<br /> + +<h3>BY</h3> +<h2>JOHN GALLISHAW</h2> + +<br /> + +<h4><i>ILLUSTRATED WITH<br /> +PHOTOGRAPHS</i></h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="img"> +<img border="0" src="images/deco.jpg" width="10%" alt="Publisher's Mark" /> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>NEW YORK<br /> +THE CENTURY CO.<br /> +1916</h4> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h5>Copyright, 1916, by<br /> +<span class="sc">The Century Co.</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Published, October, 1916</i></h5> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + + + +<h4>TO</h4> +<h3>PROFESSOR CHARLES TOWNSEND COPELAND</h3> +<h4>OF ALL THAT HARVARD HAS GIVEN ME I VALUE MOST<br /> +THE FRIENDSHIP AND CONFIDENCE OF "COPEY"</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toc" id="toc"></a><hr /> +<br /> + +<h3>CONTENTS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="70%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdr" width="10%" style="font-size: 80%;">CHAPTER</td> + <td class="tdl" width="70%"> </td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%" style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">I</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">Getting There</a></td> + <td class="tdr">3</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">There</a></td> + <td class="tdr">33</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">III</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">Trenches</a></td> + <td class="tdr">63</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Dugouts</a></td> + <td class="tdr">93</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">Waiting for the War to Cease</a></td> + <td class="tdr">123</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">No Man's Land</a></td> + <td class="tdr">141</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VII</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">Wounded</a></td> + <td class="tdr">164</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">Homeward Bound</a></td> + <td class="tdr">192</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IX</td> + <td class="tdlsc"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">"Feenish"</a></td> + <td class="tdr">224</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="toi" id="toi"></a><hr /> +<br /> + +<h3>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h3> +<br /> + +<div class="centered"> +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="65%" summary="List of Illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdr" style="font-size: 80%;">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl" width="80%"><a href="#frontis">Dugouts</a></td> + <td class="tdr" width="20%"><i>Frontispiece</i></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep009">Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at Anzac</a></td> + <td class="tdr">9</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep027">Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles</a></td> + <td class="tdr">27</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep038">Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks + in Dardanelles</a></td> + <td class="tdr">38</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep047">Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing beach</a></td> + <td class="tdr">47</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep057">A remarkable view of a landing party in the Dardanelles</a></td> + <td class="tdr">57</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep067">Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, using the + periscope</a></td> + <td class="tdr">67</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep078">First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along parallel + to the Turkish trenches</a></td> + <td class="tdr">78</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep095">Washing day in war-time</a></td> + <td class="tdr">95</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep114">Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at Suvla</a></td> + <td class="tdr">114</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep131">Landing British troops from the transports at the + Dardanelles under protection of the battleships</a></td> + <td class="tdr">131</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep157">Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity</a></td> + <td class="tdr">157</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep175">Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel Bahr + are still in position</a></td> + <td class="tdr">175</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep186">A British battery at work on the Peninsula</a></td> + <td class="tdr">186</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep203">With the French at Seddel Bahr</a></td> + <td class="tdr">203</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><a href="#imagep213">Where troops landed in Dardanelles, showing Fort + Sed-ne-behi battered to pieces by Allied Fleet</a></td> + <td class="tdr">213</td> + </tr> +</table> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<h2>TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI</h2> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> + +<div class="block2"><p>The reader is hereby cautioned against regarding this narrative as in +any way official.</p> + +<p>It is merely a record of the personal experiences of a member of the +First Newfoundland Regiment, but the incidents described all actually +occurred.</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span><br /> + +<h1>TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI</h1> + +<br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<h4>GETTING THERE</h4> +<br /> + +<p>"Great Britain is at War."</p> + +<p>The announcement came to Newfoundland out of a clear sky. Confirming +it, came the news of the assurances of loyalty from the different +colonies, expressed in terms of men and equipment. Newfoundland was +not to be outdone. Her population is a little more than two hundred +thousand, and her isolated position made garrisons unnecessary. Her +only semblance of military training was her city brigades. People +remembered that in the Boer War a handful of Newfoundlanders had +enlisted in Canadian regiments, but never before had there been any +talk of Newfoundland sending a contingent made up entirely of her own +people and representing her <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span>as a colony. From the posting of the +first notices bearing the simple message, "Your King and Country Need +You," a motley crowd streamed into the armory in St. John's. The city +brigades, composed mostly of young, beautifully fit athletes from +rowing crews, football and hockey teams, enlisted in a body. Every +train from the interior brought lumbermen, fresh from the mills and +forests, husky, steel-muscled, pugnacious at the most peaceful times, +frankly spoiling for excitement. From the outharbors and fishing +villages came callous-handed fishermen, with backs a little bowed from +straining at the oar, accustomed to a life of danger. Every day there +came to the armory loose-jointed, easy-swinging trappers and woodsmen, +simple-spoken young men, who, in offering their keenness of vision and +sureness of marksmanship, were volunteering their all.</p> + +<p>It was ideal material for soldiers. In two days many more than the +required quota had presented themselves. Only five hundred men could +be prepared in time to cross with the first contingent of Canadians. +Over a thousand men offered. A corps of doctors asked impertinent +questions concerning men's ancestors, inspected teeth, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span>measured and +pounded chests, demanded gymnastic stunts, and finally sorted out the +best for the first contingent. The disappointed ones were consoled by +news of another contingent to follow in six weeks. Some men, turned +down for minor defects, immediately went to hospital, were treated, +and enlisted in the next contingent.</p> + +<p>Seven weeks after the outbreak of war the Newfoundlanders joined the +flotilla containing the first contingent of Canadians. Escorted by +cruisers and air scouts they crossed the Atlantic safely and went +under canvas in the mud and wet of Salisbury Plain, in October, 1914. +To the men from the interior, rain and exposure were nothing new. +Hunting deer in the woods and birds in the marshes means just such +conditions. The others soon became hardened to it. They had about +settled down when they were sent on garrison duty, first to Fort +George in the north of Scotland, and then to Edinburgh Castle. Ten +months of bayonet-fighting, physical drill, and twenty-mile route +marches over Scottish hills molded them into trim, erect, bronzed +soldiers.</p> + +<p>In July of 1915, while the Newfoundlanders were under canvas at Stob's +Camp, about fifty miles from Edinburgh, I was transferred to <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span>London +to keep the records of the regiment for the War Office. At any other +time I should have welcomed the appointment. But then it looked like +quitting. The battalion had just received orders to move to Aldershot. +While we were garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, word came of the landing +of the Australians and New Zealanders at Gallipoli. At Ypres, the +Canadians had just then recaptured their guns and made for themselves +a deathless name. The Newfoundlanders felt that as colonials they had +been overlooked. They were not militaristic, and they hated the +ordinary routine of army life, but they wanted to do their share. That +was the spirit all through the regiment. It was the spirit that +possessed them on the long-waited-for day at Aldershot when Kitchener +himself pronounced them "just the men I want for the Dardanelles."</p> + +<p>That day at Aldershot every man was given a chance to go back to +Newfoundland. They had enlisted for one year only, and any man that +wished to could demand to be sent home at the end of the year; and +when Kitchener reviewed them, ten months of that year had gone. With +the chance to go home in his grasp, every man of the first battalion +reënlisted for the duration of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span>the war. And it is on record to their +eternal honor, that during the week preceding their departure from +Aldershot, breaches of discipline were unknown; for over their heads +hung the fear that they would be punished by being kept back from +active service. To break a rule that week carried with it the +suspicion of cowardice. This was the more remarkable, because many of +the men were fishermen, trappers, hunters, and lumbermen, who, until +their enlistment had said "Sir" to no man, and who gloried in the +reputation given them by one inspecting officer as "the most +undisciplined lot he had ever seen." From the day the Canadians left +Salisbury Plain for the trenches of Flanders, the Newfoundlanders had +been obsessed by one idea: they must get to the front.</p> + +<p>I was in London when I heard of the inspection at Aldershot by Lord +Kitchener, and of its results. I had expected to be able to rejoin my +battalion in time to go with them to the Dardanelles; but when I +applied for a transfer, I was told that I should have to stay in +London. I tried to imagine myself explaining it to my friends in No. +11 section who were soon to embark for the Mediterranean. Apart +altogether <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span>from that, I had gone through nearly a year of training, +had slept on the ground in wet clothes, had drilled from early morning +till late afternoon, and was perfectly fit. It had been pretty +strenuous training, and I did not want to waste it in an office.</p> + +<p>That evening I applied to the captain in charge of the office for a +pass to Aldershot to bid good-by to my friends in the regiment. He +granted it; and the next morning a train whirled me through pleasant +English country to Aldershot. At the station I met an English Tommy.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you're looking for the Newfoundlanders," he said, glancing +at my shoulder badges. I was still wearing the service uniform I had +worn in camp in Scotland, for I had not been regularly attached to the +office force in London.</p> + +<p>"I'll take you to Wellington Barracks," volunteered the Englishman. +"That's where your lot is."</p> + +<p>We trudged through sand, on to a gravel road, through the main street +of the town of Aldershot, and into an asphalt square, surrounded by +brick buildings, three storied, with iron-railed verandas. Men in +khaki leaned over the veranda rails, smoking and talking. A regiment +was just swinging in through one of the gaps between the lines.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep009" id="imagep009"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep009.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep009.jpg" width="85%" alt="Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at Anzac" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at Anzac<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span>"Company, at the halt, facing left, form close column of platoons." +Company B of the First Newfoundland Regiment swung into position and +halted in the square just in front of their quarters. "Company, +Dismiss!" Hands smacked smartly on rifle stocks, heels clicked +together, and the men of B Company fell out. A gray-haired, +iron-mustached soldier, indelibly stamped English regular, carrying a +bucket of swill across the square to the dump, stopped to watch them.</p> + +<p>"Wonder who the new lot is?" said he to a comrade lounging near. "I +cawn't place their bloomin' badge."</p> + +<p>"'Aven't you 'eard?" said the other. "Blawsted colonials; Canydians, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>A tall, loose-jointed, sandy-haired youth who approached the two was +unmistakably a colonial; there was a certain ranginess that no amount +of drilling could ever entirely eradicate.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Poppa," he greeted the gray-haired one, who had now resumed +his journey toward the dump. "What will you answer when your children +say, 'Daddy, what part did you play in the great war?'"</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span>He of the swill bucket spat contemptuously, disdaining to answer. The +sandy-haired youth continued airily across the square and up the +stairs that led to his quarters. I followed him up the stairs and +through a door on which was printed "Thirty-two men," and below, in +chalk, "B Company." We entered a long, bare-looking room, down each +side of which ran rows of iron cots. Equipments were piled neatly on +the beds and on shelves above; two iron-legged, barrack-room tables +and a few benches completed the furniture. At one of the tables sat +two young men. One of them, a massively built young giant, looked up +as the door opened.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Art," he said to my conductor. "You're just the man we want. +Don't you want to join us in a party to go up to London?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered Art; "if you break leave this week, you don't get to +the front."</p> + +<p>The big fellow stretched his massive frame in a capacious yawn.</p> + +<p>"I don't think we'll ever get to the front," he said. "This isn't a +regiment. It's an officers' training corps. They gave out a lot more +stripes to-day, and one fellow got a star—made him a second +lieutenant. You'd think this was the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span>American army; it's nothing but +stars and stripes. Soon 't will be an honor to be a private. The worst +of it is, they'll come along to me and say, 'What's your name and +number?' The only time they ever talk to me is to ask me my name and +number; and when I tell them, they put me on crime for not calling +them 'Sir,' and when I don't they have me up for insolence."</p> + +<p>Art laughed. "Cheer up, old boy," he said; "you'll soon be at the +front, and then you won't have to call anybody 'Sir.'"</p> + +<p>"What's the latest news about the regiment?" I inquired of my +conductor.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know that the King and Lord Kitchener reviewed us," he +said, "and this afternoon we are to be reviewed once more. It's a +formality. We should leave this evening or to-morrow for the front. I +suppose we'll go to some seaport town and embark there."</p> + +<p>While we were talking a bugle blew. "There's the cook-house bugle," +said Art. "Come along and have some dinner with us." He took some tin +dishes from the shelves above the beds, gave me one, and we joined in +the rush down the stairs and across the square to the cook house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span>In the army, the cook house corresponds to the dining-room of +civilization. B Company cook house was a long, narrow, wooden +building. On each side of a middle aisle that led to the kitchen were +plain wooden tables, each accommodating sixteen men, eight on each +side. When we arrived, the building was full. When you are eating as +the guest of the Government, there is no hostess to reserve for you +the choice portions; therefore it behooves you to come early. In the +army, if you are not there at the beginning of a meal, you go hungry. +Thus are inculcated habits of punctuality. But if you are called and +the meal is not ready, you have your revenge. Two hundred and +sixty-two men of B Company were showing their disapproval of the +cooks' lack of punctuality. Screeches, yells, and cat cries rivaled +the din of stamping feet and the banging of tin dishes. Occasionally +the door of the kitchen swung open and afforded a glimpse of three +sweating cooks and their group of helpers, working frenziedly. +Sometimes the noise stopped long enough to allow some spokesman to +express his opinion of the cooks, and their fitness for their jobs, +with that delightful simplicity and charming candor that made the +language of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span>First Newfoundland Regiment so refreshing. Loud +applause served the double purpose of encouraging the speakers and +drowning the reply of the incensed cooks. This was a pity, because the +language of an army cook is worth hearing, and very enlightening. Men +who formerly prided themselves on their profanity have listened, +envious and subdued, awed by the originality and scope of a cook's +vocabulary, and thenceforth quit, realizing their own amateurishness. +Occasionally, though, one of the cooks, stung to retort, would appear, +wiping his hands on his overalls, and in a few well-chosen phrases, +cover some of the more recent exploits of the one who had angered him, +or endeavor to clear his own character, always in language brilliant, +fluent, and descriptive.</p> + +<p>But the longest wait must come to an end, and at last the door of the +kitchen swung open and the helpers appeared. Some mysterious mess fund +had been tapped, and that day dinner was particularly good. First came +soup, then a liberal helping of roast beef, with potatoes, tomatoes, +and peas, followed by plum pudding. B Company soon finished. In the +army, dinner is a thing not of ceremony, but of necessity.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span>I did not wait for my sandy-haired friend; his name, I gathered, was +Art Pratt. He and a neighbor were adjusting a difference regarding the +ownership of a combination knife, fork, and spoon. I found my way back +to the room marked "Thirty-two men." Just as I entered, I heard the +bugle sound the "half-hour dress."</p> + +<p>All about the room men were busy shining shoes, polishing buttons, +rolling puttees, and adjusting equipments. This took time, and the +half hour for preparation soon passed. In the square below, at the +sound of the "Fall In," eleven hundred men of the first battalion of +the First Newfoundland Regiment sprang briskly to attention. After +their commanding officer had inspected them, the battalion formed into +column of route. As the tail of the column swung through the square, I +joined in. A short march along the Aldershot Road brought us to the +dusty parade ground. Here we were drawn up in review order, to await +the inspecting general. When he arrived, he rode quickly through the +lines, then ordered the men to be formed into a three-sided square. +From the center of this human stadium he addressed them.</p> + +<p>"Men of the First Newfoundland Regiment," <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span>said he, "a week ago you +were reviewed by His Majesty the King and by Lord Kitchener. On that +day, Lord Kitchener told you that you were just the men he needed for +the Dardanelles. I have been deputed to tell you that you are to +embark to-night. You have come many miles to help us; and when you +reach the Dardanelles, you will be opposed by the bravest fighters in +the world. It is my duty and my pleasure on behalf of the British +Government and of His Majesty the King to thank you and to wish you +God-speed."</p> + +<p>This was the moment the Newfoundlanders had been waiting for for +nearly a year. From eleven hundred throats broke forth wave upon wave +of cheering. Then came an instant's hush, the bugle band played the +general salute, and the regiment presented arms. Gravely the general +acknowledged the compliment, spurred his horse, and rode rapidly away. +The regiment reformed, marched back to barracks, and dismissed.</p> + +<p>I joined the crowd that pressed around the board on which were posted +the daily orders. My friend Art Pratt was acting as spokesman.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span>"A and B Companies leave here at eight this evening," he said. "C and +D Companies an hour later. They march to Aldershot railway station, +and entrain there."</p> + +<p>I left the group around the board and walked over to the office of the +adjutant. He was busy giving instructions about his baggage.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "what do you want?"</p> + +<p>"I want to go with the battalion this evening, sir," I said.</p> + +<p>He questioned me; and when he found out all the facts, told me that I +couldn't go. I didn't wait any longer. As I went out the door, I could +just hear him murmur something about my not having the necessary +papers. But I wasn't thinking of papers just then. I was wondering how +I could get away. I vowed that if I could possibly do it I would go +with the battalion. I was passing one of the stairways when I heard +some one yell, "Is that you, Corporal Gallishaw?" I turned. It was Sam +Hiscock, one of my old section.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Sam," I said. "I didn't know where to look for old No. 11 +section. They've all been changed about since they came here."</p> + +<p>"Come up this way," said Sam, and I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span>followed him up the stairs and +into a room occupied by the men of No. 11 section, my old section at +Stob's Camp in Scotland.</p> + +<p>Disconsolately I told them my plight, and disclosed my plan guardedly. +Sam Hiscock, faithful and loyal to his section, voiced the sentiment. +"Come on with old No. 11; we'll look after you. All you have to do is +hang around here, and when we're moving off just fall in with us, and +nobody'll notice then; 't will be dark."</p> + +<p>"The big trouble is," I said, "I have no equipment, no overcoat, no +kit-bag; in fact, no anything."</p> + +<p>"You've got a rain coat," said Pierce Power, "and I've got a belt you +can have." Another offered a piece of shoulder strap, and some one +else volunteered to show me where a pile of equipments were kept in a +room. I followed him out to the room. In the corner a man was sitting +on the floor, smoking. He was the guard over the equipments. He +belonged to an English regiment, and so did the equipments. Sam +Hiscock engaged him in conversation for a few minutes. The topic he +introduced was a timely one: beer. While Hiscock and the guard went to +the canteen to do some research work in <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span>beverages, I took his place +guarding the equipments. By the time the two returned I had managed to +acquire a passable looking kit. I spent the rest of the afternoon +going around among my friends and telling them what I proposed to do. +At eight o'clock I joined the crowd that cheered A and B Companies as +they moved away, in charge of the adjutant and the colonel. When the +major called C and D Companies to attention, I fell in with my old +section C Company. The lieutenant in charge of the platoon I was with +saw me, but in the dusk he could not recognize my face. I was thankful +for the convenient darkness; and because it was fear of his invention +that caused it, I blessed the name of Count Zeppelin.</p> + +<p>"Where's your rifle?" asked the lieutenant.</p> + +<p>"Haven't got one, sir," I said.</p> + +<p>The lieutenant called the platoon sergeant. "Sergeant," he snapped, +"get that man a rifle." The sergeant doubled back to the barracks and +returned with a rifle. The lieutenant moved away, and I had just begun +to congratulate myself, when disaster overtook me. The platoon was +numbered off. There was one man too many, and of course I was the man. +The lieutenant <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span>did not waste any time in vain controversy. He ordered +me out of his platoon.</p> + +<p>"Where shall I go?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"As far as I am concerned," he answered, "you can go straight to +hell."</p> + +<p>I left his platoon; but when I did, I carried with me the precious +rifle. The sergeant, a thorough man, had been thoughtful enough to +bring with it a bayonet.</p> + +<p>The time had now come to risk everything on one throw. I did. In the +army, all orders from the commanding officer of a regiment are +transmitted through the adjutant. I knew that both the colonel and the +adjutant had gone an hour ago, and could not now be reached. So I +walked up to Captain March, the captain of D Company, saluted, and +told him that I had been ordered to join his company.</p> + +<p>"Ordered by whom?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"By the Adjutant," said I, brazenly.</p> + +<p>"I haven't had any orders about that," said Captain March.</p> + +<p>Just then, Captain O'Brien, who had been my company commander in camp, +came up. I think he must have known what I was trying to do.</p> + +<p>"If the Adjutant said so, it's all right," he <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span>said, thus leaving the +burden of proof on me.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead then," said Captain March; "fall in."</p> + +<p>I fell in. We formed up, and swung out of the square and along the +road that led to the station. At intervals, where a street lamp threw +a subdued glare, crowds cheered us; for even Aldershot, clearing house +of fighting forces, had not yet ceased to thrill at the sight of men +leaving for the front. Half an hour after we left the barracks, we +were all safely stowed away in the train, ten men in each of the +compartment coaches. Just as we were pulling out, a soldier went from +coach to coach, shaking hands with all the men. He came to our coach, +put his head in through the window, and shook hands with each man. I +was on the inside. "Good-by, old chap," he said, then gasped in +astonishment. The train was just beginning to move. It was well under +way when he recovered himself. "Gallishaw," he shouted, "you're under +arrest." It was the sergeant-major of the Record Office I had quitted +in London.</p> + +<p>During war time in England, troop trains have the right of way over +all others. All night our train rattled along, with only one stop. +That <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span>was at Exeter where we were given a lunch supplied by the +Mayoress and ladies of the town. I spent the night under the seat; for +I thought the sergeant-major might telegraph to have the train +searched for me. Early next morning, we shunted onto a wharf in +Devonport, alongside the converted cruiser <i>Megantic</i>. Her sides were +already lined with soldiers; another battalion of eleven hundred men, +the Warwickshire Regiment, was aboard. As soon as our battalion had +detrained, I hid behind some boxes on the pier; and when the last of +the men were walking up the gangplank. I joined them. A steward handed +each man a ticket, bearing the number of his berth. I received one +with the rest. Since I was in uniform, the steward had no way of +telling whether or not I belonged to the Newfoundlanders.</p> + +<p>All that day the <i>Megantic</i> stayed in port, waiting for darkness to +begin the voyage. In the afternoon, we pulled out into the stream; and +at sunset began threading our way between buoys, down the tortuous +channel to the open sea. A couple of wicked-looking destroyers +escorted us out of Devonport; but as soon as we had cleared the +harbor, they steamed up and shot <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span>ahead of us. The next morning they +had disappeared. The first night out I ate nothing, but the next day I +managed to secure a ticket to the dining-room. With two battalions on +board, there was no room on the <i>Megantic</i> for drills; the only work +we had was boat drill once a day. Each man was assigned his place in +the lifeboats. At the stern of the ship a big 4.7 gun was mounted; and +at various other points were placed five or six machine guns, in +preparation for a possible submarine attack. In addition, we depended +for escape on our speed of twenty-three to twenty-five knots.</p> + +<p>During the boat drills, I stayed below with the Warwickshire Regiment, +or, as we called them, the Warwicks. This regiment was formed of men +of the regular army, who had been all through the first gruelling part +of the campaign, beginning with the retreat from Mons, to the battle +of the Marne. They were the remnants of "French's contemptible little +army." Every one of them had been wounded so seriously as to be unable +to return to the front. Ordinarily they would have been discharged, +but they were men whose whole lives had been spent in the army. Few of +them were under forty, so they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span>were now being sent to Khartum in the +Sudan, for garrison duty. At night, I came on deck. In the submarine +area ships showed no lights, so I could go around without fear of +discovery. The only people I had to avoid were the officers, and the +caste system of the army kept them to their own part of the ship. The +men I knew would sooner cut their tongues out than inform on me.</p> + +<p>Just before sunset of the third night out, because we passed several +ships, we knew we were approaching land. At nine o'clock, we were +directly opposite the Rock of Gibraltar. After we had left Gibraltar +behind, all precautions were doubled; we were now in the zone of +submarine operations. Ordinarily we steamed along at eighteen or +nineteen knots; but the night before we fetched Malta, we zigzagged +through the darkness, with engines throbbing at top speed, until the +entire ship quivered and shook, and every bolt groaned in protest. +With nearly three thousand lives in his care, our captain ran no +risks. But the night passed without incident. The next day, at noon, +we were safe in one of the fortified harbors of Malta.</p> + +<p>After we left Malta, since I knew I could not <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span>then be sent back to +England, I reported myself to the adjutant. He and the colonel were in +the orderly room, as the office of a regiment is called. The +sergeant-major in charge of the orderly room had been taken ill two or +three days before, and the other men had been swamped by the extra +rush of clerical work, incident on the departure of a regiment for the +front. Perhaps this had a good deal to do with the lenient treatment I +received. The adjutant came to the point at once. That is a +characteristic of adjutants.</p> + +<p>"Gallishaw," he said, "do you want to come to work here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> + +<p>"All right," he said; "you're posted to B Company."</p> + +<p>That night, it appeared in orders that "Lance-Corporal Gallishaw has +embarked with the battalion, and is posted to B Company for pay." The +only comment the colonel made on the affair was to say to the +adjutant, "I've often heard of men leaving a ship when she is going on +active service, but I've never heard of men stowing away to get +there." Thus I went to work in the orderly room; and in the orderly +room I stayed until we arrived at Alexandria, Egypt, and entrained +for Cairo. At Heliopolis, on the desert near Cairo, we went into camp. +There I joined my company and drilled with it, and bade good-by to the +orderly room and all its works.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep027" id="imagep027"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep027.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep027.jpg" width="85%" alt="Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span>We stayed in Egypt only ten days or so to get accustomed to the heat, +and to change our heavy uniforms and hats for the light-weight duck +uniforms and sun helmets, suitable for the climate on the Peninsula of +Gallipoli. The heat at Heliopolis was too intense to permit of our +drilling very much. In the very early morning, before the sun was +really strong, we marched out a mile across the desert, skirmished +about for an hour or so, and returned to camp for breakfast. The rest +of the day we were free. Ordinarily we spent the morning sweltering in +our marquees, saying unprintable and uncomplimentary things about the +Egyptian weather. In the late afternoon and evening, we went to Cairo. +About a mile from where we were camped, a street car line ran into the +city. To get to it we generally rode across the desert on donkeys. +Every afternoon, as soon as we had finished dinner, little native boys +pestered us to hire donkeys. They were the same boys who <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span>poked their +heads into our marquees each morning and implored us to buy papers. We +needed no reveille in Egypt. The thing that woke us was a native +yelling "Eengaleesh paper, veera good; veera good, veera nice; fifty +thousand Eengaleesh killed in the Dardanelle; veera good, veera nice."</p> + +<p>About a quarter of a mile across the desert from us was a camp for +convalescent Australians and New Zealanders. As soon as the Australians +found that we were colonials like themselves, they opened their hearts +to us in the breezy way that is characteristically Australian. There is +a Canadian hospital unit in Cairo. One medical school from Ontario +enlisted almost <i>en masse</i>. Professors and pupils carry on work and +lectures in Egypt just as they did in Canada. It was not an uncommon +thing to see on a Cairo street a group composed of an Australian, a New +Zealander, a Canadian, and a Newfoundlander. And once we managed to +rake up a South African. The clean-cut, alert-looking, bronzed +Australians, who impressed you as having been raised far from cities, +made a tremendous hit with the Newfoundlanders. One chap who was +returning home minus a leg, gave us a young <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span>wallaby that he had +brought with him from Australia. One of our boys had a small donkey, +not much larger than a collie dog, that he bought from a native for a +few shillings. The men vied with each other in feeding the animals. +Some fellows took the kangaroo one evening, and he acquired a taste for +beer. The donkey's taste for the same beverage was already well +developed. After that, the two were the center of convivial gatherings. +The wallaby got drunk faster, but the donkey generally got away with +more beer. When we were certain we were to go to the front, a meeting +was held in our marquee. It was unanimously decided that not a man was +to take a cent with him—everybody was to leave for the front +absolutely broke—"to avoid litigation among our heirs," the spokesman +said. The wallaby and the donkey benefited. The night before we left +the desert camp, they were wined and dined. The next morning, the +kangaroo, bearing unmistakable marks of his debauch, showed up to say +good-by. We were not allowed to take him with us, and he was relegated +to the Zoo in Cairo. The donkey, who had been steadily mixing his +drinks from four o'clock the afternoon before, did not see us go. When +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span>we moved off, he was lying unconscious under one of the transport +wagons.</p> + +<p>Although we took advantage of every opportunity for pleasure, we had +not lost sight of our real object. We were grateful for a chance to +visit the Pyramids, and enjoyed our meeting with the men from the +Antipodes, but Egypt soon palled. The Newfoundlanders' comment was +always the same. "It's some place, but it isn't the front. We came to +fight, not for sightseeing."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER II<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>THERE</h4> +<br /> + +<p>It was with eleven hundred eager spirits that I lined up on a Sunday +evening early in August, 1915, on the deck of a troopship, in Mudros +Harbor, which is the center of the historic island of Lemnos, about +fifty miles from Gallipoli. Around us lay all sorts of ships, from +ocean leviathans to tiny launches and rowboats. There were gray and +black-painted troopers, their rails lined with soldiers, immense +four-funneled men-o'-war, and brightly lighted, white hospital ships, +with their red crosses outlined in electric lights. The landing +officer left us in a little motor boat. We watched him glide slowly +shoreward, where we could faintly discern through the dusk the white +of the tents that were the headquarters for the army at Lemnos. To the +right of the tents, we could see the hospital for wounded Australians +and New Zealanders. A French battleship dipped its flag as it passed, +and our boys sang the Marseillaise.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span>A mail that had come that day was being sorted. While we waited, each +man was served with his "iron ration." This consisted of a one-pound +tin of pressed corn beef—the much-hated and much-maligned "bully +beef"—a bag of biscuits, and a small tin that held two tubes of +"Oxo," with tea and sugar in specially constructed air-and-damp-proof +envelopes. This was an emergency ration, to be kept in case of direst +need, and to be used only to ward off actual starvation. After that, +we were given our ammunition, two hundred and fifty rounds to each +man.</p> + +<p>But what brought home to me most the seriousness of our venture was +the solitary sheet of letter paper with its envelope, that was given +to every man, to be used for a parting letter home. For some poor +chaps it was indeed the last letter. Then we went over the side, and +aboard the destroyer that was to take us to Suvla Bay.</p> + +<p>The night had been well chosen for a surprise landing. There was no +moon, but after a little while the stars came out. Away on the port +bow we could see the dusky outline of land; and once, when we were +about half way, an airship soared <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span>phantom-like out of the night, +poised over us a short time, then ducked out of sight. At first the +word ran along the line that it was a hostile airship, but a few +inquiries soon reassured us.</p> + +<p>Suddenly we changed our direction. We were near Cape Hellas, which is +the lowest point of the Peninsula of Gallipoli. Under Sir Ian +Hamilton's scheme, it was here that a decoy party was to land to draw +the Turks from Anzac. Simultaneously, an overwhelming force was to +land at Suvla Bay and at Anzac, to make a surprise attack on the +Turks' right flank. Presently, we were going up shore past the wrecked +steamer <i>River Clyde</i>, the famous "Ship of Troy," from the side of +which the Australians had issued after the ship had been beached; past +the shore hitherto nameless, but now known as Anzac. Australian, New +Zealand, Army Corps, those five letters stand for; but to those of us +who have been on Gallipoli, they stand for a great deal more: they +represent the achievement of the impossible. They are a glorious +record of sacrifice, reckless devotion, and unselfish courage. To put +each letter there cost the men from Australasia ten thousand of their +best soldiers.</p> + +<p>And so we edged our way along, fearing mines, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span>or, even more +disastrous than mines, discovery by the enemy. From the Australasians +over at Anzac, we could hear desultory rifle fire. Once we heard the +boom of some big guns that seemed almost alongside the ship. Four +hours it took us to go fifty miles, in a destroyer that could make +thirty-two knots easily. By one o'clock, the stars had disappeared, +and for perhaps three quarters of an hour we edged our way through +pitch darkness. We gradually slowed down, until we had almost stopped. +Something scraped along our side. Somebody said it was a floating +mine, but it turned out to be a buoy that had been put there by the +navy to mark the channel. Out of the gloom directly in front some one +hailed, and our people answered.</p> + +<p>"Who have you on board?" we heard the casual English voice say. Then +came the reply from our colonel:</p> + +<p>"Newfoundlanders."</p> + +<p>There was to me something reassuring about that cool, self-contained +voice out of the night. It made me feel that we were being expected +and looked after.</p> + +<p>"Move up those boats," I heard the English voice say, and from right +under our bow a naval launch, with a middy in charge, swerved +alongside. In a little while it, with its string of boats, was +securely fastened.</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep038" id="imagep038"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep038.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep038.jpg" width="85%" alt="Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks in Dardanelles" /></a><br /> +<p class="right" style="margin-top: .2em;">© Underwood & Underwood, N.Y.</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks in Dardanelles<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span>Just before we went into the boats, the adjutant passed me.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "you've got your wish. In a few minutes you'll be +ashore. Let me know how you like it when you're there a little while."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," I said. But I never had a chance to tell him. The first +shrapnel shell fired at the Newfoundlanders burst near him, and he had +scarcely landed when he was taken off the Peninsula, seriously +wounded.</p> + +<p>In a short time we had all filed into the boats. There was no noise, +no excitement; just now and then a whispered command. I was in a tug +with about twenty others who formed the rear guard. The wind had +freshened considerably, and was now blowing so hard that our unwieldy +tug dared not risk a landing. We came in near enough to watch the +other boats. About twenty yards from shore they grounded. We could see +the boys jump over the side and wade ashore. Through the half darkness +we could barely distinguish them forming up on the beach. Soon they +were lost to sight.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span>During the Turkish summer, dawn comes early. We transhipped from our +tug to a lighter. When it grounded on the beach, day was just +breaking. Daylight disclosed a steeply sloping beach, scarred with +ravines. The place where we landed ran between sheer cliffs. A short +distance up the hill we could see our battalion digging themselves in. +To the left I could see the boats of another battalion. Even as I +watched, the enemy's artillery located them. It was the first shell I +had ever heard. It came over the hill close to me, screeching through +the air like an express train going over a bridge at night. Just over +the boat I was watching it exploded. A few of the soldiers slipped +quietly from their seats to the bottom of the boat. At first I did not +realize that anybody had been hit. There was no sign of anything +having happened out of the ordinary, no confusion. As soon as the boat +touched the beach, the wounded men were carried by their mates up the +hill to a temporary dressing station. The first shell was the +beginning of a bombardment. "Beachy Bill," a battery that we were to +become better acquainted with, was in excellent shape. Every few +minutes a shell burst close to us. Shrapnel <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span>bullets and fragments of +shell casing forced us to huddle under the baggage for protection. A +little to the left, some Australians were severely punished. Shell +after shell burst among them. A regiment of Sikh troops, mule drivers, +and transport men were caught half way up the beach. Above the din of +falling shrapnel and the shriek of flying shells rose the piercing +scream of wounded mules. The Newfoundlanders did not escape. That +morning "Beachy Bill's" gunners played no favorites. On all sides the +shrapnel came in a shower. Less often a cloud of thick black smoke, +and a hole twenty feet deep showed the landing place of a high +explosive shell. The most amazing thing was the coolness of the men. +The Newfoundlanders might have been practising trench digging in camp +in Scotland. When a man was hit, some one gave him first aid, directed +the stretcher bearers where to find him, and resumed digging.</p> + +<p>About nine, I was told off to go to the beach with one man to guard +the baggage. We picked our way carefully, taking advantage of every +bit of cover. About half way down, we heard the warning shriek of a +shell, and threw ourselves on our faces. Almost instantly we were in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span>the center of a perfect whirlwind of shells. "Beachy Bill" had just +located a lot of Australians, digging themselves in about fifty yards +away from us. The first few shells fell short, but only the first few. +After that, the Turkish gunners got the range, and the Australians had +to move, followed by the shells. As soon as we were sure that the +danger was over, we continued to the beach, and aboard the lighter +that contained our baggage. We had not had a chance to get any +breakfast before we started, but the sergeant of our platoon had +promised to send a corporal and another man to relieve us in two +hours. About twelve o'clock the sergeant appeared, to tell me to wait +until one o'clock, when I should be relieved. He brought the news that +the adjutant had been wounded seriously in the arm and leg. At the +very beginning of the bombardment, a shell had hit him. About forty of +our men had been hit, the sergeant said, and the regiment was +preparing to change its position. He showed us the new position, and +told us to rejoin there as soon as relieved.</p> + +<p>About a hundred yards to the right of us rose a cliff that prevented +our boat being seen by the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span>enemy. The Turks were devoting their +attention to some boats landing well to the left of us. The officer in +charge of landing was taking advantage of this and had a gang near us +working on dugouts for stores and supplies. Right under the cliffs a +detachment of engineers were building a landing as coolly as if they +were at home. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, to show us that he was +still doing business, "Beachy Bill" sent over a few shells in our +direction. The gunners could not see us, but they wanted to warn us +not to presume too much. As soon as the first shell landed near us, +the officer in charge shouted nonchalantly, "Take cover, everybody." +He waited until he was certain every man had found a hiding place, +then effaced himself. The courage of the officers of the English army +amounts almost to foolhardiness. The men to relieve us did not arrive +at once, as promised. The hot afternoon passed slowly. Each hour was a +repetition of the preceding one. "Beachy Bill" was surpassing himself. +From far out in the bay our warships replied.</p> + +<p>About five o'clock I espied one of the Newfoundland lieutenants a +little way up the beach in charge of a party of twenty men. I +signaled <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span>to him and he came down to our boat. The party had come to +unload the baggage. When I asked the lieutenant about being relieved, +he told me that he had sent a corporal and one man down about one +o'clock, and ordered me back to the regiment to report to Lieutenant +Steele. Half way up the beach we found Lieutenant Steele. The corporal +sent down to relieve me, he told me, had been hit by a shell just +after he left his dugout. The man with him had not been heard from. I +went back to the beach, and found the man perched up on top of the +cliff to the right of the lighter. He had been waiting there all the +afternoon for the corporal to join him.</p> + +<p>Having solved the mystery of the failure of the relief party, I +returned to my platoon. Their first stopping place had proved +untenable. All day they had been subjected to a merciless and +devastating shelling, and their first day of war had cost them +sixty-five men. They were now dug in in a new and safer position. They +were only waiting for darkness to advance to reinforce the firing line +that was now about four miles ahead. Since to get to our firing line +we had to cross the dried-up bed of a salt lake, no move <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span>could be +made in daylight. That evening we received our ration of rum, and +formed up silently in a long line two deep, beside our dugouts. I fell +in with my section, beside Art Pratt, the sandy-haired chap I had met +in Aldershot. He had been cleaning his rifle that afternoon when a +shell landed right in his dugout, wounded the man next him, knocked +the bolt of the rifle out of his hand, but left him unhurt. He +accepted it as an omen that he would come out all right, and was +grinning delightedly while he confided to me his narrow escape, and +was as happy as a schoolboy at the thought of getting into action.</p> + +<p>Under cover of darkness we moved away silently, until we came to the +border of the Salt Lake. Here we extended, and crossed it in open +order, then through three miles of knee high, prickly underbrush, to +where our division was entrenched. Our orders were to reinforce the +Irish. The Irish sadly needed reinforcing. Some of them had been on +the Peninsula for months. Many of them are still there. From the beach +to the firing line is not over four miles, but it is a ghastly four +miles of graveyard. Everywhere along the route are small wooden +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span>crosses, mute record of advances. Where the crosses are thickest, +there the fighting was fiercest; and where the fighting was fiercest, +there were the Irish. On every cross, besides a man's name and the +date of his death, is the name of his regiment. No other regiments +have so many crosses as the Dublins and the Munsters. And where the +shrapnel flew so fast that bodies mangled beyond hope of identity were +buried in a common grave, there also are the Dublins and the Munsters; +and the cross over them reads, "In Memory of Unknown Comrades."</p> + +<p>The line on the left was held by the Twenty-ninth Division; the +Dublins, the Munsters, the King's Own Scottish Borderers, and the +Newfoundlanders made up the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Newfoundlanders +were reinforcements. From the very first day of the Gallipoli +campaign, the other three regiments had formed part of what General +Sir Ian Hamilton in his report calls "The incomparable Twenty-ninth +Division." When the first landing was made, this division, with the +New Zealanders, penetrated to the top of Achi Baba, the hill that +commanded the Narrows. For forty-eight hours the result was in doubt. +The British attacked with bayonet and bombs, were driven back, and +repeatedly reattacked. The New Zealanders finally succeeded in +reaching the top, followed by the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Irish +fought on the tracks of a railroad that leads into Constantinople. At +the end of forty-eight hours of attacks and counter attacks, the +position was considered secure. The worn-out soldiers were relieved +and went into dugouts. Then the relieving troops were attacked by an +overwhelming hostile force, and the hill was lost. A battery placed on +that hill could have shelled the Narrows and opened to our ships the +way to Constantinople. The hill was never retaken. When reinforcements +came up it was too late. The reinforcements lost their way. In his +report, General Hamilton attributes our defeat to "fatal inertia." +Just how fatal was that inertia was known only to those who formed +some of the burial parties.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep047" id="imagep047"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep047.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep047.jpg" width="65%" alt="Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing beach" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing beach<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span>After the first forty-eight hours we settled down to regular trench +warfare. The routine was four days in the trenches, eight days in rest +dugouts, four days in the trenches again, and so forth, although three +or four months later our ranks were so depleted that we stayed in +eight <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span>days and rested only four. We had expected four days' rest +after our first trip to the firing line, but at the end of two days +came word of a determined advance of the enemy. We arrived just in +time to beat it off. Our trenches instead of being at the top were at +the foot of the hill that meant so much to us.</p> + +<p>The ground here was a series of four or five hog-back ridges, about a +hundred yards apart. Behind these towered the hill that was our +objective. From the nearest ridge, about seven hundred yards in front +of us, the Turks had all that day constantly issued in mass formation. +During that attack we were repaid for the havoc wrought by Beachy +Bill. As soon as the Turks topped the crest, they were subjected to a +demoralizing rain of shell from the navy and from our artillery. +Against the hazy blue of the skyline we could see the dark mass +clearly silhouetted. Every few seconds, when a shell landed in the +middle of the approaching columns, the sides of the column would bulge +outward for an instant, then close in again. Meanwhile, every man in +our trenches stood on the firing platform, head and shoulders above +the parapet, with fixed bayonet and loaded rifle, waiting for the +order <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span>to begin firing. Still the Turks came on, big, black, +bewhiskered six footers, reforming ranks and filling up their gaps +with fresh men. Now they were only six hundred yards away. But still +there was no order to open fire. It was uncanny. At five hundred yards +our fire was still withheld. When the order came, "At four hundred +yards, rapid fire," everybody was tingling with excitement. Still the +Turks came on, magnificently determined, but it was too desperate a +venture. The chances against them were too great, our artillery and +machine gun fire too destructively accurate. Some few Turks reached +almost to our trenches, only to be stopped by rifle bullets. "Allah! +Allah!" yelled the Turks, as they came on. A sweating, grimly happy +machine gun sergeant was shouting to the Turkish army in general, +"It's not a damn bit of good to yell to Allah now." Our artillery +opened huge gaps in their lines, our machine guns piled them dead in +the ranks where they stood. Our own casualties were very slight; but +of the waves of Turks that surged over the crest all that day, only a +mere shattered remnant ever straggled back to their own lines.</p> + +<p>That was the last big attack the Turks made. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span>From that time on, it +was virtually two armies in a state of siege. That was the first night +the Newfoundlanders went into the trenches as a unit. A and B +Companies held the firing line, C and D were in the support trenches. +Before that, they filled up gaps in the Dublins or in the Munsters, or +in the King's Own Scottish Borderers. These regiments were our tutors. +Mostly they were composed of veterans who had put in years of training +in Egypt or in India. The Irish were jolly, laughing men with a soft +brogue, and an amazing sense of humor. The Scotch were dour, silent +men, who wasted few words. Some of the Scotchmen were young fellows +who had been recruited in Scotland after war broke out. One of these +chaps shared my watch with me the first night. At dark, sentry groups +were formed, three reliefs of two men each; these two men stood with +their heads over the parapet watching for any movement in the no man's +land between the lines; that accounts for the surprisingly large +number of men one sees wounded in the head. The Scottie and I stood +close enough together to carry on a conversation in whispers. It +turned out that he had been training in Scotland at the same camp +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span>where the Newfoundlanders were. He had been on the Peninsula since +April, and was all in from dysentery and lack of food. "Nae meat," was +the laconic way he expressed it. Like every Scotchman since the world +began, he answered to the name of "Mac." He pointed out to me the +position of the enemy trenches.</p> + +<p>"It's just aboot fower hundred yairds," he said, "but you'll no get a +chance to fire; there's wurrkin' pairties oot the nicht." Then as an +afterthought, he added gloomily, "There's no chance of your gettin' +hit either."</p> + +<p>"Why," I asked him in astonishment, "you don't want to get hit, do +you?"</p> + +<p>Mac looking at me pityingly. "Man," he burst out, "when ye're here as +long as I've been here, ye'll be prayin' fer a 'Blighty one.'"</p> + +<p>Blighty is the Tommies' nickname for London, and a "Blighty one" is a +wound that's serious enough to cause your return to London.</p> + +<p>For a few minutes Mac continued looking over the parapet. Without +turning his head, he said to me: "I'll gie ye five poond, if ye'll +shoot me through the airm or the fut." When a Scotchman who is getting +only a shilling a day offers you five pounds, it is for something +very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span>desirable. Before I had a chance to take him up on this handsome +offer, my attention was attracted by the appearance of a light just a +little in front of where Mac had said the enemy trench was located. I +grabbed my gun excitedly.</p> + +<p>"Dinna fire, lad," cautioned Mac. "We have a wurrkin' pairty oot just +in front. Ye would na hit anything if ye did. 'Tis only wastin' +bullets to fire at night."</p> + +<p>For almost an hour I continued to watch the light as it moved about. +It was a party of Turks, Mac explained, seeking their dead for burial. +When I was relieved for a couple of hours' sleep they were still +there.</p> + +<p>Just where I was posted, the trench was traversed; that is, from the +parapet there ran at right angles, for about six feet, a barricade of +sandbags, that formed the upright line of a figure T. The angle made +by this traverse gave some protection from the wind that swept through +the trench. Here I spread my blanket. The night was bitterly cold, and +I shivered for lack of an overcoat. In coming away hurriedly from +London, I did not take an overcoat with me. In Egypt, it had never +occurred to me that I should need one in Gallipoli; and the chance to +get one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span>I had lost. But I was too weary to let even the cold keep me +awake. In a few minutes I was as sound asleep as if I had been far +from all thought of war or trenches.</p> + +<p>It seemed to me that I had just got to sleep when I was awakened by a +hand shaking my shoulder roughly, and by a voice shouting, "Stand to, +laddie." It was Mac. I jumped to my feet, rubbing my eyes.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing's the matter," said Mac. "Every morning at daybreak ye stand +to airms for an hour."</p> + +<p>I looked along the trench. Every man stood on the firing platform with +his bayonet fixed. Daybreak and just about sunset are the times +attacks are most likely to take place. At those times the greatest +precautions are taken. Dawn was just purpling the range of hills +directly in front when word came, "Day duties commence." Periscopes +were served out, and placed about ten feet apart along the trench. +These are plain oblong tubes of tin, three by six inches, about two +feet high. They contain an arrangement of double mirrors, one at the +top, and one at the bottom. The top mirror slants backward, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span>reflects objects in front of it. The one at the bottom slants forward, +and reflects the image caught by the top mirror. In the daytime, by +using a periscope, a sentry can keep his head below the top of the +parapet, while he watches the ground in front. Sometimes, however, a +bullet strikes one of the mirrors, and the splintered glass blinds the +sentry. It is not an uncommon thing to see a man go to the hospital +with his face badly lacerated by periscope glass.</p> + +<p>During the daytime, the men who were not watching worked at different +"fatigues." Parapets had to be fixed up, trenches deepened, drains and +dumps dug, and bomb-proof shelters had to be constructed for the +officers. Every few minutes the Turkish batteries opened fire on us, +but with very poor success. The navy and our land batteries replied, +with what effect we could not tell. Once or twice I put my head up +higher than the parapet. Each time I did, I heard the ping of a +bullet, as it whizzed past my ear. Once a sniper put five at me in +rapid succession. Every one was within a few inches of me, but +fortunately on the outside of the parapet. Just before landing in +Egypt, we had been served out with large white helmets to protect us +from the sun. It did not take us very long to discover that on the +Peninsula of Gallipoli these were veritable death traps. Against the +landscape they loomed as large as tents; they were simply invitations +to the enemy snipers. We soon discarded them for our service caps. The +hot sun of a Turkish summer bored down on us, adding to the torment of +parched throats and tongues. We were suffering very much from lack of +water. The first night we went into the firing line we were issued +about a pint of water for each man. It was a week before we got a +fresh supply. We had not yet had time to get properly organized, and +our only food was hard biscuits, apricot jam, and bully beef; a pretty +good ration under ordinary conditions, but, without water, most +unpalatable. The flies, too, bothered us incessantly. As soon as a man +spread some jam on his biscuits, the flies swarmed upon it, and before +he could get it to his mouth it was black with the pests.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep057" id="imagep057"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep057.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep057.jpg" width="85%" alt="A remarkable view of a landing party in the Dardanelles" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">A remarkable view of a landing party in the Dardanelles<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span>These were not the only drawbacks. Directly in front of our trenches +lay a lot of corpses, Turks who had been killed in the last attack. In +front of the line of about two hundred yards held by B Company there +were six or seven <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span>hundred of them. We could not get out to bury them, +nor could we afford to allow the enemy to do so. There they stayed, +and some of the hordes of flies that continually hovered about them, +with every change of wind, swept down into our trenches, carrying to +our food the germs of dysentery, enteric, and all the foul diseases +that threaten men in the tropics.</p> + +<p>After two days of this life, we were relieved and moved back about two +miles to the reserve dugouts for a rest, to get something to eat, and +depopulate our underwear; for the trenches where we slept harbored not +only rats but vermin and all manner of things foul.</p> + +<p>The regiment that relieved us was an English regiment, the Essex. They +were some of "Kitchener's Army." We stood down off the parapet, and +the Englishmen took our places. Then with our entire equipment on our +backs we started our hegira. We had about four miles to go, two down +through the front line trenches, then two more through winding, narrow +communication trenches, almost to the edge of the Salt Lake. Here in +the partial shelter afforded by a small hill were our dugouts. In +Gallipoli there was no attempt at the ambitious <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span>dugout one hears of +on the Western front. Our dugouts resembled more nearly than anything +else newly made graves. Usually one sought a large rock and made a +dugout at the foot of it. The soil of the Peninsula lent itself +readily to dugout construction. It is a moist, spongy clay, of the +consistency of thick mortar. A pickax turns up large chunks of it; +these are placed around the sides. A few hours' sun dries out the +moisture, and leaves them as hard and solid as concrete.</p> + +<p>While we had been in the firing line, another regiment had made some +dugouts. There were four rows of them, one for each company. B +Company's were nearest the beach. We filed slowly down the line, until +we came to the end. A dugout was assigned to every two men. I shared +one with a chap named Stenlake. We spread our blankets, put our packs +under our heads, and for the first time for a week, took off our +boots. Before going to sleep, Stenlake and I chatted for a while. When +war broke out, he told me, he had been a missionary in Newfoundland. +He offered as chaplain, and was accepted and given a commission as +captain. Later some difficulty arose. The regiment was made up of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span>three or four different denominations, about equally divided. Each one +wanted its own chaplain, which was expensive; so they decided to have +no chaplain. Stenlake immediately resigned his commission, and +enlisted as a private.</p> + +<p>Our whisperings were interrupted by a voice from the next dugout. "You +had better get to sleep as soon as you can, boys; you have a hard day +before you, to-morrow." It was Mr. Nunns, the lieutenant in command of +our platoon. Casting aside all caste prejudice, he was sleeping in the +midst of his men, in the first dugout he had found empty. He could +have detailed some men to build him an elaborate dugout, but he +preferred to be with his "boys." The English officers of the old +school claim that this sort of thing hurts discipline. If they had +seen the prompt and cheerful way in which No. 8 platoon obeyed Mr. +Nunns' orders, they would have been enlightened.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER III<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>TRENCHES</h4> +<br /> + +<p>Somebody has said that a change of occupation is a rest. Whoever sent +us into dugouts for a rest, evidently had this definition in mind. +After breakfast the first morning we were ordered out for digging +fatigue just behind the firing line. In this there was one +consolation. We did not have to carry our packs. Each man took his +rifle and either a pick or a shovel. Communication trenches had to be +dug to avoid long tramps through the firing line; and connecting +trenches had to be made between the existing communication trenches. +While we were in dugouts we had eight hours of this work out of every +twenty-four; four hours in the daytime and four at night.</p> + +<p>The second day in dugouts when we came back from our morning's +digging, we found some new arrivals making some dugouts about two +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span>hundred yards behind our lines. They were Territorials, who correspond +to the militia in the United States. "The London Terriers," they +called themselves. Mostly they were young fellows from eighteen to +twenty-two years old. They had landed only that morning and were in +splendid condition, and very eager for the coming of evening when they +were to go to the firing line. The ground they had selected was +sheltered from observation by the little ridge near our line of +dugouts; but some of our men in moving about attracted the attention +of the Turkish artillery observer. Instantly half a dozen shells came +over the ridge, past our line, and bang! right in the midst of the +Londons, working fearful destruction. Every ten or fifteen minutes +after that, the Turks sent over some shells. Some regiments are lucky, +others seem to walk into destruction everywhere they turn. The shells +fired at the Newfoundlanders landed in the Londons. About two minutes' +walk from our dugouts our cooks had built a fire and were preparing +meals. A number of our men passed continually between our line and the +cooks'. Not one of them was even scratched. The only two of the +Londons who ventured there were <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span>hit; one fellow was killed instantly, +the other, seriously wounded through the lungs, lay moaning where he +had fallen. It was just dusk, and nobody knew he had been hit until +one of our men, coming down, heard his hoarse whispering request to +"get a doctor, for God's sake get a doctor." While somebody ran for +the doctor, our stretcher bearers responded to the all too familiar +shout, "Stretcher bearers at the double," but by the time they reached +him he was beyond all need of doctor or stretcher bearers. Before the +London Terriers even saw the firing line, they lost over two hundred +men. They simply could not escape the Turkish shells. The enemy had a +habit of sending over one shell, then waiting just a minute or less, +and following it with another. The first shell generally wounded two +or three men; the second one was sent over to catch the stretcher +bearers and the comrades who hastened to aid those who were hit. +Before they had completed their dugouts, the shrapnel caught them in +the open; after they were dug in, it buried them alive. Never did a +regiment leave dugouts with so much joy as did the London Terriers +when they entered the trenches for the first time. Ordinarily a man is +much <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span>safer in the firing line than in rest dugouts. Trenches are so +constructed that even when a shell drops right in the traverse where +men are, only half a dozen or so suffer. In open or slightly protected +ground where the dugouts are, the burst of a shrapnel shell covers an +area twenty-five by two hundred yards in extent.</p> + +<p>A shell can be heard coming. Experts claim to identify the caliber of +a gun by the sound the shell makes. Few live long enough to become +such experts. In Gallipoli the average length of life was three weeks. +In dugouts we always ate our meals, such as they were, to the +accompaniment of "Turkish Delight," the Newfoundlanders' name for +shrapnel. We had become accustomed to rifle bullets. When you hear the +zing of a spent bullet or the sharp crack of an explosive, you know it +has passed you. The one that hits you, you never hear. At first we +dodged at the sound of a passing bullet, but soon we came actually to +believe the superstition that a bullet would not hit a man unless it +had on it his regimental number and his name. Then, too, a bullet +leaves a clean wound, and a man hit by it drops out quietly. The +shrapnel makes nasty, jagged, hideous wounds, the horrible +recollection of which lingers for days in the minds of those who see +them. It is little wonder that we preferred the firing line.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep067" id="imagep067"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep067.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep067.jpg" width="85%" alt="Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, using the periscope<br /> +Note the different shaped hats worn by the men, five kinds appearing in the little group<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span>Every afternoon from just behind our line of dugouts an aëroplane +buzzed up. At the tremendous height it looked like an immense +blue-bottle fly. We always knew when it was two o'clock. Promptly at +that hour every afternoon it winged its way over us and beyond to the +Turkish trenches. At first the enemy's aëroplanes came out to meet +ours, but a few encounters with our men soon convinced them of the +futility of such attempts. After that, they relied on their artillery. +In the air all around the tiny speck we could see white puffs of smoke +that showed where their shrapnel was exploding. Sometimes those puffs +were perilously close to it; at such times our hearts were in our +mouths. Everybody in the trench craned his neck to see. When our +aëroplane manœuvered clear, you could hear a sigh of relief from +every man.</p> + +<p>After about the eighth day in dugouts we were ordered back to the +firing line. We had to take over a part of the trench near Anafarta +Village. In this vicinity the Fifth Norfolks, a company <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span>formed of men +from the King's estate at Sandringham, had charged into the woods, +about two hundred and fifty strong, and had been completely lost sight +of. This was the most comfortable trench we had yet been in. It had +been taken over from the Turks, and when we faced toward them we had +to build another firing platform. This left their firing platform for +us to sleep on. After the cramped, narrow trenches of the first couple +of weeks, this roomy trench was very pleasant. On both sides of the +trench were some trees that threw a grateful shade in the daytime. +Along the edge grew little bushes that bore luscious blackberries, but +to attempt to get them was courting death. Nevertheless, the +Newfoundlanders secured a good many. Best of all though was the "Block +House Well." For the first time we had a plenitude of water. But by +this time conditions had begun to tell on the men. Each morning more +and more men reported for sick parade. They were beginning to feel the +enervating effect of the climate, and of the lack of water and proper +food. While we were intrenched near the block house, the men were +sickening so fast that in our platoon we had not enough men to form +the sentry groups. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span>The noncommissioned officers had to take their +place on the parapet, and the ordinary work of the noncoms, changing +sentries, waking reliefs, and detailing working parties had to be done +by the commissioned officers. Just about an hour before my turn to +watch, I was suddenly stricken by the fever that lurks on the +Peninsula. In the army, no man is sick unless so pronounced by the +medical officer. Each morning at nine there is a sick parade. A man +taken ill after that has to wait until the next morning, and is +officially fit for duty. My turn came at eleven o'clock at night. The +man I was to relieve was Frank Lind. He went on at nine. When eleven +o'clock came, I was burning up with fever. Lind would not hear of my +being roused to relieve him, but continued on the parapet until one +o'clock, although in that part of the trench snipers had been doing a +lot of execution. Then he rested for a couple of hours and at three +o'clock resumed his place on the parapet for the remainder of the +night. At daybreak he was still there. I slept all through the night, +exhausted by the fever, and it was not till a few days after that some +one else told me what Lind had done. From him I heard no mention of +it. Whenever <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span>somebody says that war serves only to bring out the +worst in a man I think of Frank Lind. The fever that had weakened me +so, continued all that day. I reported for sick parade and was given a +day off duty. The next day I was given light duty, and the following +day the fever left me and that night I was fit for duty again, and was +sent out to a detached post about halfway between us and the enemy. +The detached post was an abandoned house about twenty feet square. All +the doors and windows had been torn out, and now it was nothing but +the merest skeleton of a house. We had been there about three hours +when there occurred something most extraordinary and unaccountable. It +was a pitch dark night, and working parties were out from both sides. +Ordinarily there would have been no firing. Suddenly from away on the +right where the Australians were, began the sharp crackling of rapid +fire. A boy pulling a wooden stick along an iron park railing makes +almost the same sound. The crackling swept down the line right past +the trench directly behind us and away on to the left. The Turks, +fearing an attack, replied. Between the two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span>fires we were caught. +There were eight of us in the blockhouse. Only two of us came from No. +8 platoon, Art Pratt, my sandy-haired friend of Aldershot days, and I. +The sergeant in charge was from another platoon. When the rapid fire +began, he became melodramatic. He had the responsibility of seven +other men's lives, and the thing that seemed rather comic to us was +probably very serious to him. There was nothing the matter, though, +with the way in which he handled the situation. There were eight +openings in the house for the missing doors and windows. At each +window he placed a man, and stood at the door himself, then ordered us +to fill our magazines and fix our bayonets. But psychologically he +made a mistake. He turned to me and said,</p> + +<p>"Corporal, we're in a pretty tight place. We may have to sell our +lives dearly. I want every man to stand by me. Will you stand by me?"</p> + +<p>When the thing had started I had just experienced a pleasant tingle of +excitement, but at this view of the situation I felt a little serious. +Before I had a chance to reply Art Pratt relieved the situation by +shouting,</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span>"Did you say stand by you? I'll stand by this window and I'll bayonet +the first damn Turk I see."</p> + +<p>There was a general laugh and the moment of tension passed. In a few +minutes the exchange of rapid fire died down as suddenly as it had +started. The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Just before +daybreak we returned to our platoons.</p> + +<p>We never found out the reason for the sudden exchange of rapid fire. +Some Australians away on the right had started it. Everybody had +joined in, as the firing ran along the line of trenches. As soon as +the officers began an investigation it was stopped.</p> + +<p>It seems to me that most of the time we were in the blockhouse trench +we spent our nights out between the lines. Most of our work was done +at night. When we wished to advance our line, we sent forward a +platoon of men the desired distance. Every man carried with him three +empty sandbags and his intrenching tool. Temporary protection is +secured at short notice by having every man dig a hole in the ground +that is large and deep enough to allow him to lie flat in it. The +intrenching tool is a miniature pickax, one <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span>end of which resembles a +large bladed hoe with a sharpened and tempered edge. The pick end is +used to loosen hard material and to break up large lumps; the other +end is used as a shovel to throw up the dirt. When used in this +fashion the wooden handle is laid aside, the pick end becomes a +handle, and the intrenching tool is used in the same manner as a +trowel. The whole instrument is not over a foot long, and is carried +in the equipment.</p> + +<p>Lying on our stomachs, our rifles close at hand, we dug furiously. +First we loosened up enough earth in front of our heads to fill a +sandbag. This sandbag we placed beside our heads on the side nearest +the enemy. Out in no man's land with bullets from rifle and machine +guns pattering about us, we did fast work. As soon as we had filled +the second and third sandbags we placed them on top of the first. In +Gallipoli every other military necessity was subordinated to +concealment. Often we could complete a trench and occupy it before the +enemy knew of it. In the daytime our aëroplanes kept their aërial +observers from coming out to find any work we had done during the +night. Sometimes while we were digging, the Turks surprised us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span>by +sending up star shells. They burst like rockets high overhead. +Everything was outlined in a strange, uncanny light that gave the +effect of stage fire. At first, when a man saw a star shell, he +dropped flat on his face; but after a good many men had been riddled +by bullets, we saw our mistake. The sudden, blinding glare makes it +impossible to identify objects before the light fades. Star shells +show only movement. The first stir between the lines becomes the +target for both sides. So, after that, even when a man was standing +upright, he simply stood still.</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep078" id="imagep078"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep078.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep078.jpg" width="85%" alt="First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along parallel to the Turkish trenches which are not thirty yards distant" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along parallel to the Turkish trenches which are not thirty yards distant<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>After the block-house trench, our next move was to a part of the +firing line that I have never been able to identify. It was very close +to the Turks, and in this spot we lost a large number of men. From one +point, a narrow sap or rough trench ran out at right angles very close +to the Turkish position. It may have been twenty-five or thirty yards +away. To hold this sap was very important; if the Turks took it, it +gave them a commanding position. About twenty men were in it all the +time, four or five of them bomb throwers. The men holding this sap at +the time we were there were the Irish, the Dublin <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span>Fusiliers or, as +we knew them, the Dubs. The Turks made several attempts to take it, +but were repulsed. When our men were not on sentry duty, several of +them spent their rest hours out in this sap, talking to the Dubs. The +Dubs were interesting talkers. They had been in the thing from the +beginning, and spoke of the landings with laughter and a fierce joy of +slaughter. Most of them had been on the Western front before coming to +Gallipoli. From the Turkish trenches directly in front of this sap, +the enemy signaled the effect of our shots. They used the same signals +that we used in target practice, waving a stick back and forth to +indicate outers, inners, magpies, and bull's-eyes. Whoever did it, had +a sense of humor; because as soon as he became tired, he took down the +stick for an instant, then raised it again and waved it back and forth +derisively, with a large red German sausage on the end of it. This did +not seem to bear out very well the tales that the enemy was slowly +starving to death. Prisoners who surrendered from time to time told us +that at any moment the entire Turkish army might surrender, as they +were very short of food. One thing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span>we did know: the Turks felt the +lack of shoes; out between the lines we found numbers of our dead with +the boots cut off.</p> + +<p>While we were in this place the Turks dug to within ten or twelve +yards of us before they were discovered. One of the Dublins saw them +first. He seized some bombs, and jumped out, shouting, "Look at Johnny +Turrk. Let's bomb him to hell out of it." But Johnny Turk was +obstinate; he stayed where he was in spite of our bombs. One of our +fellows, the big chap whom I had heard at Aldershot complaining about +being asked for his name and number, had crawled into the sap. He made +his way through the smoke and dirt to the end of the sap where only a +few yards separated him from the Turks. In one item of armament the +British beat the Turks. We use bombs that explode three seconds after +they are thrown; the Turks' don't explode for five seconds. The +difference of only two seconds seems slight, but that day in the +sap-head it was of great importance. For a short while the supply of +bombs for our side ran out. The man who was trying to get the cover +off a box of them found difficulty in doing it. The men in the +sap-head were without bombs. Meanwhile the Turks <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span>kept up an +uninterrupted throwing of bombs. Most of them landed in the sap. The +big Newfoundlander who had crawled out looking for excitement found +it. As soon as the supply of bombs ran out, instead of getting back +into safety, he stood his ground. The first bomb that came over +dropped close to him. He was swearing softly, and his face was glowing +with pleasure. He bent down coolly, picked up the bomb and threw it +back over the parapet at the Turks who had sent it. With our bombs he +could not have done it, but the extra two seconds were just enough. +Five or six of the bombs came in and were treated in the same way, +before our supply was resumed. A brigade officer, who had come out +into the sap, stood gazing awe-struck at the big Newfoundlander. +Open-mouthed, with monocle in hand, the officer was the picture of +amazement. At last he spoke, with that slow, impersonal English drawl:</p> + +<p>"I say, my man, what is your name and number."</p> + +<p>The look on the Newfoundlander's face was a study. He knew he should +not have come out into that sap, and every time that question had been +shot at him before it had meant a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span>reprimand. At last he shrugged his +shoulders, then with a resigned expression, answered the officer in a +fashion not entirely confined to Newfoundlanders—by asking a +question: "What in hell have I done now?"</p> + +<p>Without a word the officer turned on his heel and left the sap. The +big fellow waited until he felt the officer was well out of sight, +then departed for his proper place in the trench. One of the Dubs +looking after him, said to me:</p> + +<p>"There's a man that would have been recommended for a Distinguished +Conduct Medal if he'd answered that officer right."</p> + +<p>That Irishman was a man of wide experience.</p> + +<p>"I've been seventeen years in the army, and I've been in every war +that England fought in that time," said he, "and I'll tell you now, +the real Distinguished Conduct Medal men and the real V.C. heroes +never get them. They're under the ground." Coming from the man it did, +this expression of opinion was interesting, for he was Cooke, the man +who had been given a Distinguished Conduct Medal for his work on the +Western front. Since coming to the Peninsula he had been acting as a +sharpshooter, and had been recommended for the V.C., the Victoria +Cross, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span>which is the highest reward for valor in the British army. He +was only waiting then, for word to go to London, to get the cross +pinned on by the King.</p> + +<p>"There's one man on this Peninsula," continued Cooke, "who's won the +V.C. fifty times over; that's the donkey-man."</p> + +<p>The man Cooke meant was an Australian, a stretcher-bearer. His real +name was Simpson, but nobody ever called him that. Because he was of +Irish descent, the Australians, who dearly love nicknames, called him +Murphy, or, Moriarty, or Dooley, or whatever Irish name first occurred +to them. More generally, though, he was called the Man with the +Donkey, and by this name he was known all over the Peninsula. In the +early days, the Anzacs had captured some booty from the Turks and in +it were some donkeys. It was in the strenuous time when men lay in all +sorts of inaccessible places, dying and sorely wounded, Simpson in +those days seemed everywhere. As soon as he heard of the capture he +went down, looked appraisingly over the donkeys, and commandeered two +of them. On one donkey he painted F.A. No. 1, and on the other, F.A. +No. 2; F.A. being his abbreviation for Field <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span>Ambulance. Day and night +after that Simpson could be seen going about among the wounded, here +giving a man first aid, there loosening the equipment and making +easier the last few minutes for some poor fellow too far gone to need +any medical care. The wounded men who could not walk or limp down to +the dressing station he carried down, one on each of the donkeys and +one on his back or in his arms. He talked to the donkeys as they +plodded slowly along, in a strange mixture of English, Arabic +profanity, and Australian slang. Many an Australian or New Zealander +who has never heard of Simpson remembers gratefully the attentions of +a strangely gentle man who drove before him two small gray donkeys +each of which carried a wounded soldier. In Australia long after this +war is over men will thrill at the mention of the Man with the Donkey. +I agreed with Cooke that this man had won the V.C. fifty times over.</p> + +<p>Cooke was going out that night, he told me, to stay for three or four +days, sniping, between the lines. As soon as he came back he expected +to go to London.</p> + +<p>"Before I go out," he said, "I'll show you a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span>good place where you can +get a shot at Abdul Pasha."</p> + +<p>I followed Cooke out through the sap and up the trench a little way to +where it turned sharply to avoid a large boulder. Just in front of +this boulder was some short, prickly underbrush. Cooke parted the +bushes cautiously with his hand, and motioned me to come closer. I did +and through the opening he pointed out the enemy trench about four +hundred yards away, and about thirty yards in front of it a little +clump of bushes.</p> + +<p>"Just in front of those bushes," said Cooke, "there's a sniper's +dugout. Keep your eyes open to-morrow and you ought to get some of +them."</p> + +<p>I noted the place for the next day, and walked down to the sap with +Cooke. There I shook hands with him, wished him good luck, and +returned to my platoon.</p> + +<p>That night I had to go out on listening patrol between the lines. At +one o'clock my turn came. An Irish sergeant came along the trench for +me to guide me out to the listening post. I went with him a short +distance along the trench, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span>picked up four others, then with a +shoulder from a comrade, we got over the parapet. The listening post +was about a hundred yards away. We had gone only a few yards when we +heard firing coming from that direction, first one shot followed by +twenty or thirty in quick succession, then silence. A man stumbled out +of the darkness immediately in front of us. He was panting and +excited. It was a messenger from the corporal that we were going to +relieve. He had been walking along without the least suspicion of +danger when he had run full tilt into a party of fifteen or sixteen of +the enemy. He had dropped down immediately and yelled to one of his +men to go back to the trench with word. We followed the panting +messenger to the post. The enemy had now disappeared. We opened rapid +fire in the direction in which they had gone. Evidently it was right, +for in a few seconds they returned it, wounding one man. For about +five minutes we kept up firing, with what success we could not tell, +but at any rate we had the satisfaction of driving off a superior +force. Those two hours straining through the darkness were not +particularly pleasant. I did not know what moment or from what +direction the enemy might <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span>come, and I knew that if he did come it +would be in force. Apparently the whole thing was unplanned, because +during the remainder of my two hours, although I peered unceasingly in +all directions, I could see nothing, nor could I hear the slightest +sound. Evidently Johnny Turk was willing to let well enough alone. +That night when I returned to the trench I was told that the next +night at dark we were to go into dugouts.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily the thought of dugouts was distasteful, but it seemed years +since I had taken my boots off. Our platoon had lost heavily, mostly +from disease. All the novelty had worn off the trench life. Instead of +six noncoms, there were only three. Each of us was doing the work of +two men. Our ration had been the eternal bully beef, biscuit, and jam. +Our cooks did their best to make it palatable by cooking the beef in +stew with some desiccated vegetables, but these were hard and +tasteless. Most of us had got to the stage where the very sight of jam +made us sick. That night, looking down through the ravine, I saw, +winking and blinking cheerfully, the only light that brightened the +Stygian darkness, the Red Cross of the hospital ships. I have wondered +since if the entrance to heaven is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span>illuminated with an electric Red +Cross. There was not a man in the whole battalion who was really fit. +Most of them had had a touch of one or more of the prevalent diseases.</p> + +<p>Stenlake, the young clergyman, who had been my dugout mate, was +scarcely able to drag himself about the trench. And by this time we +had the weather to contend with. It was nearing the middle of October, +and the rainy season was almost upon us. Occasionally the sky darkened +up to a heavy grayness that seemed to cover everything as with a pall. +Following this came heavy, sudden squalls that swept through the +trenches, drenching everything, and tearing blankets and equipments +with them. Although the sun still continued to bore down unremittingly +in the daytime, the nights had become bitterly cold, and to the +tropical diseases were added rheumatism and pneumonia. On the men from +Newfoundland the climate was especially telling. We had ceased to +wonder at the crowd of men who reported sick each morning, and simply +marveled that the number was not greater.</p> + +<p>All over the Peninsula disease had become epidemic until the clearing +stations and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span>beaches were choked with sick. The time we should +have been sleeping was spent in digging, but still the men worked +uncomplainingly. Some, too game to quit, would not report to the +doctor, working on courageously until they dropped, although down in +the bay beckoned the Red Cross of the hospital ship, with its +assurance of cleanliness, rest, and safety. By sickness and snipers' +bullets we were losing thirty men a day. Nobody in the front line +trenches or on the shell-swept area behind ever expected to leave the +Peninsula alive. Their one hope was to get off wounded. Every night +men leaving the trenches to bring up rations from the beach shook +hands with their comrades. From every ration party of twenty men we +always counted on losing two. Those who were wounded were looked on as +lucky. The best thing we could wish a man was a "cushy wound," one +that would not prove fatal, or a "Blighty one." But no one wanted to +quit. Men hung on till the last minute. Often it was not till a man +dropped exhausted that we learned from his comrades that he had not +eaten for days. The only men in my platoon who seemed to be nearly fit +were Art Pratt, and a young chap named Hayes. Art seemed to be +enjoying the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span>life thoroughly. He went about the trench, cheerfully, +grinning and whistling, putting heart into the others. Whenever there +was any specially dangerous work to be done, Art always volunteered. +He spent more time out between the lines than in the trench. Whenever +a specially reliable, cool man was needed, Art was selected. Young +Hayes was a small chap who had been in my platoon at Stob's Camp in +Scotland. He had made a record for being absent from parade, and was +always in trouble for minor offenses. I took him in hand and did my +best to keep him out of trouble. Out in the trenches he remembered it, +and followed me around like a shadow. Whenever I was sent in charge of +a fatigue party he always volunteered. The men all did their best to +make the work of the noncoms easy. As a study in the effects of +colonial discipline it would have been enlightening for some of the +English officers. The men called their corporals and sergeants, Jack, +or Bill, or Mac, but there never was the slightest question about +obeying an order. Everybody knew that everybody else was overworked +and underfed, and every man tried to give as little trouble as +possible. Such conduct from the Newfoundlanders was astonishing, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span>as +in training they simply loved to make trouble for the noncoms, and the +most unenviable job in the regiment was that of corporal or sergeant.</p> + +<p>Such were the conditions the next afternoon when we moved from the +firing trench to rest near some dugouts that had been forsaken by the +Royal Scots. They had been relieved, some said, to go to the island of +Imbros, about fifteen miles away, for a rest. At Imbros, rumor said, +you could buy, in the canteen, eggs and butter, and other heavenly +things that we had almost forgotten the taste of. At Imbros, too, you +were free from shell fire, and drilled every day just as you did in +training. It was whispered, too, but scornfully discredited, that +Imbros boasted shower baths, and ovens for the disinfecting of +clothing. Others claimed that the Royal Scots had been withdrawn from +the Peninsula and were going to the Western front. They were the first +regiment to leave of the Twenty-ninth Division. The whole division was +to be withdrawn gradually. The Twenty-ninth was our division, and we +were to go with it to England. We were to winter in Scotland and after +we had been recruited up to full strength were to go to France in the +spring. An examination of the empty <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span>dugouts strengthened this belief. +Blankets, rubber sheets, belts, pieces of equipment, and even +overcoats were lying around. In one of the dugouts I found a copy of +the Odyssey, and half a dozen other books. A few dugouts away I came +upon one of our fellows gazing regretfully upon an empty whisky +bottle. As I approached him, I overheard him murmur abstractedly, "My +favorite brand too, my favorite brand." I passed on without +interrupting him. It was too sacred a moment.</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER IV<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>DUGOUTS</h4> +<br /> + +<p>The afternoon sun poured down steadily on little groups of men +preparing dugouts for habitation. I had a good many details to attend +to before I could look about for a suitable place for a dugout. Men +had to be told off for different fatigues. Men for pick and shovel +work that night were placed in sections so that each group would get +as much sleep as possible. All the available dugouts had been taken up +by the first comers. The location here was particularly well suited +for dugouts. A mule path to the beach ran along the bottom of a narrow +ravine. On one side of the path the ground shelved gradually up till +it merged into a plain, covered with long grass, overgrown and +neglected. On the other side, a ridge sloped up sharply and formed a +natural protection before it also merged into a "gorse" covered +plateau. Small evergreen bushes served the double purpose of hiding +our movements from the enemy <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span>and affording some shade from the +broiling sun. At the foot of the ridge we made our line of dugouts. +The angle of the ridge was so steep that an enemy shell could not +possibly drop on our dugouts. A little further away some of A +Company's dugouts were in the danger zone. After much hunting, I found +a likely looking place. It was about seven feet square, and where I +planned to put the head of my dugout a large boulder squatted. It was +so eminently suitable that I wondered that no one else had preëmpted +it. I took off my equipment, threw my coat on the ground, and began +digging. It was soft ground and gave easily.</p> + +<p>A short distance away, I could see Art Pratt, digging. He was finding +it hard work to make any impression. He saw me, stopped to mop his +brow, and grinned cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"You should take soft ground like this, Art," I yelled.</p> + +<p>"I've gone so far now," said Art, "that it's too late to change," and +we resumed our work.</p> + +<p>After a few more minutes' digging, my pick struck something that felt +like the root of a tree, but I knew there was no tree on that +God-forsaken spot large enough to send out big roots.I +disentangled the pick and dug a little more, only to find the same +obstruction. I took my small intrenching tool, scraped away the dirt I +had dug, and began cleaning away near the base of a big boulder. There +were no roots there, and gradually I worked away from it. I took my +pick again, and at the first blow it stuck. Without trying to +disengage it I began straining at it. In a few seconds it began to +give, and I withdrew it. Clinging to it was part of a Turkish uniform, +from which dangled and rattled the dried-up bones of a skeleton. +Nauseated, I hurriedly filled in the place, and threw myself on the +ground, physically sick. While I was lying there one of our men came +along, searching for a place to bestow himself. He gazed inquiringly +at the ground I had just filled in.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep095" id="imagep095"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep095.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep095.jpg" width="55%" alt="Washing day in war-time" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Washing day in war-time<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span>"Is there anybody here?" he asked me, indicating the place with a +pick-ax.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, with feeling, "there is."</p> + +<p>"It looks to me," he said, "as if some one began digging and then +found a better place. If he don't come back soon I'll take it."</p> + +<p>For about fifteen minutes he stood there, and I lay regarding him +silently. At last he spoke again.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span>"I think I'll go ahead," he said. "Possession is nine points of the +law, and the fellow hasn't been here to claim it."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't if I were you," I said. "That fellow's been there a hell +of a long while."</p> + +<p>I left him there digging, and crawled away to a safe distance. In a +few minutes he passed me.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Because half of the company saw me digging there and didn't tell me," +I said.</p> + +<p>I was prospecting around for another place when Art Pratt hailed me. +"Why don't you come with me," he said, "instead of digging another +place?"</p> + +<p>I went to where he was and looked at the dugout. It wasn't very wide, +and I said so. Together we began widening and deepening the dugout, +until it was big enough for the two of us. It was grueling work, but +by supper time it was done. The night before, a fatigue party had gone +down to the beach and hauled up a big field kitchen. Our cooks had +made some tea, and we had been issued some loaves of bread. Art +unrolled a large piece of cloth, with all the pomp and ceremony of a +man unveiling a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span>monument. He did it slowly and carefully. There was a +glitter in his eyes that one associates with an artist exhibiting his +masterpiece. He gave a triumphant switch to the last fold and held +toward me a large piece of fresh juicy steak!</p> + +<p>"Beefsteak!" I gasped. "Sacred beefsteak! Where did you get it?"</p> + +<p>Art leaned toward me mysteriously. "Officers' mess," he whispered.</p> + +<p>"I've got salt and pepper," I said, "but how are you going to cook +it?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Art, "but I'm going up to the field kitchen; +there's some condensed milk that I may be able to get hold of to +spread on our bread."</p> + +<p>While Art was gone, I strolled down the ravine a little way to where +some of the Royal Engineers were quartered. The Royal Engineers are +the men who are looked on in training as a noncombatant force, with +safe jobs. In war-time they do no fighting, but their safe jobs +consist of such harmless work as fixing up barbed wire in front of the +parapet and setting mines under the enemy's trenches. For a rest they +are allowed to conduct parties to listening posts and to give the +lines for advance saps. Sometimes <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span>they make loopholes in the parapet, +or bolster up some redoubt that is being shelled to pieces. The Turks +were sending over their compliments just as I came abreast of the +Engineers' lines. One of the engineers was sifting some gravel when +the first shell landed. He dropped the sieve, and turned a back +somersault into some gorse-bushes just behind him. The sieve rolled +down, swayed from side to side, and settled close to my head, in the +depression where I was conscientiously emulating an ostrich. I +gathered it to my bosom tenderly and began crawling away. From behind +a boulder I heard the engineer bemoaning to an officer the loss of his +sieve, and he described in detail how a huge shell had blown it out of +his hands. Joyfully I returned to Art with my prize.</p> + +<p>"What's that for?" said Art.</p> + +<p>"Turn it upside down," I said, "and it's a steak broiler."</p> + +<p>"Where did you get it?" said Art.</p> + +<p>I told him, and related how the engineer had explained it to his +officer.</p> + +<p>Up at the field kitchen a group was standing around.</p> + +<p>"What's the excitement?" I asked Art.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span>"Those fellows are a crowd of thieves," answered Art, virtuously. +"They're looking about to see what they can steal. I was up there a +few minutes ago and saw a can of condensed milk lying on the shaft of +the field kitchen. They were watching me too closely to give me a +chance, but you might be able to get away with it."</p> + +<p>The two of us strolled up slowly to where Hebe Wheeler, the creative +artist who did our cooking, was holding forth to a critical audience.</p> + +<p>"It's all very well to talk about giving you things to eat, but I +can't cook pancakes without baking powder. You can't get blood out of +a turnip. I'd give you the stuff if I got it to cook, but I don't get +it, do I, Corporal?" said Hebe, appealing to me.</p> + +<p>I moved over and stood with my back to the shaft on which rested the +tin of condensed milk.</p> + +<p>"No, Hebe," I said, "you don't get the things; and when you do get +them, this crowd steals them on you."</p> + +<p>"By God," said Hebe, "that's got to be put a stop to. I'll report the +next man I find stealing anything from the cookhouse."</p> + +<p>I put my hand cautiously behind my back, until I felt my fingers close +on the tin of milk. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span>"You let me know, Hebe," I said, as I slipped the +tin into the roomy pocket of my riding breeches, "and I'll make out a +crime sheet against the first man whose name you give." I stayed about +ten minutes longer talking to Hebe, and then returned to my dugout. +Art had finished broiling the piece of steak, and we began our supper. +I put my hand in my breeches' pocket to get the milk. Instead of +grasping the tin, my fingers closed on a sticky, gluey mass. The tin +had been opened when I took it and I had it in my pocket upside down. +About half of it had oozed over my pocket. Art was just pouring the +remainder on some bread when some one lifted the rubber sheet and +stuck his head into our dugout. It was the enraged Hebe Wheeler. As +soon as he had missed his precious milk he had made a thorough +investigation of all the dugouts. He looked at Art accusingly.</p> + +<p>"Come in, Hebe," I said pleasantly. "We don't see you very often."</p> + +<p>Hebe paid no attention to my invitation, but glared at Art.</p> + +<p>"I've caught you with the goods on," he said. "Give me back that milk, +or I'll report you to the platoon officer."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span>"You can report me to Lord Kitchener if you like," said Art, calmly, +as he drained the can; "but this milk stays right here."</p> + +<p>Hebe disappeared, breathing vengeance.</p> + +<p>After supper that night a crowd sat around the dying embers of one of +the fires. This was one of the first positions we had been in where +there was cover sufficient to warrant fires being lighted. A mail had +been distributed that day, and the men exchanged items of news and +swapped gossip. There were men there from all parts of Newfoundland. +They spoke in at least thirty different accents. Any one who made a +study of it could tell easily from each man's accent the district he +came from. Much of the mail was intimate, and necessitated private +perusal, but much more was of interest to others. It was interesting +to hear a man yell to a friend who came from his same "bay" that +another man had enlisted from Robinson's, making up eighteen of the +nineteen men of fighting age in the place. Sometimes the news was that +"Half has volunteered, and Hed was turned down by the doctor."</p> + +<p>This from some resident of the northern parts where the fog is not, +and where aspirates are of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span>little consequence. This news gives rise +to the opinion that "that's the hend o' Half." This with much +discussion and ominous shaking of the head. Sometimes a friend of the +absent "Half" would tell of Half's exploit of stealing a trolley from +the Reid Newfoundland Railway Company and going twenty miles to see a +girl. Sometimes the hero was a married man. Then it was opined that +his conjugal relations were not happy, and the reason he enlisted was +that "he had heard something." All these opinions and suggestions were +voiced with that beautiful freedom from restraint so characteristic of +the ordinary conversation of the members of our regiment. Much was +made of the arrival of a mail. It did not happen often, and the +letters that came were three or four months old. "As cold waters to a +thirsty soul," says Solomon, "so is good news from a far country." The +Newfoundlanders in that barren, scorched country caught eagerly at +every shred of news from that distant Northern country that they loved +enough to risk their lives for. With such a setting it is little +wonder that the talk was much of home. Behind the persiflage of the +talk there was a poignant longing for those dark, cool forests of +pine <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span>where the caribou roam, and the broad-bosomed lakes and rivers +that were the highways for the monsters of the Northern forests on +their journey to the mills. The lumbermen of Notre Dame Bay and Green +Bay told fearsome and wondrous tales of driving and swamping, of +teaming and landing, until one almost heard the blows of the ax, the +"gee" and "haw" of the teamsters, and smelt the pungent odor of +new-cut pine. The Reid Newfoundland Railway, the single narrow gage +road that twists a picturesque trail across the Island, had given +largely of its personnel toward the making of the regiment. Firemen +and engineers, brakemen and conductors, talked reminiscently of forced +runs to catch expresses with freight and accommodation trains. There +is an interesting tale of two drivers who blew their whistles in the +Morse code, and kept up communication with each other, until a girl +learned the code and broke up the friendship. A steamship fireman +contributed his quota with a story of laboring through mountainous +seas against furious tides when the stokers' utmost efforts served +only to keep steamers from losing way. By comparison with the +homeland, Turkey suffered much; and the things they said <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span>about +Gallipoli were lamentable. From the gloom on the other side of the +fire a voice chanted softly, "It's a long, long way to Tipperary, It's +a long way to go." Gradually all joined in. After Tipperary, came many +marching songs. "Are we downhearted? NO," with every one booming out +the "No." "Boys in Khaki, Boys in Blue," and at last their own song; +to the tune of "There is a tavern in the town."</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when those Newfoundlanders start to yell, start to yell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, Kaiser Bill, you'll wish you were in hell, were in hell;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For they'll hang you high to your Potsdam palace wall,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You're a damn poor Kaiser, after all.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="noin">The singing died down slowly. The talk turned to the trenches and the +chances of victory, and by degrees to personal impressions.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to know," said one chap, "why we all enlisted."</p> + +<p>"When I enlisted," said a man with an accent reminiscent of the +Placentia Bay, "I thought there'd be lots of fun, but with weather +like this, and nothing fit to eat, there's not much poetry or romance +in war any more."</p> + +<p>"Right for you, my son," said another; "your King and Country need +you, but the trouble is to make your King and Country feed you."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span>"Don't you wish you were in London now, Gal?" said one chap, turning +to me. "You'd have a nice bed to sleep in, and could eat anywhere you +liked."</p> + +<p>"Well," I said, "enough people tried to persuade me to stop. One +fellow told me that the more brains a man had, the farther away he was +from the firing-line. He'd been to the front too. I think," I added, +"that General Sherman had the right idea."</p> + +<p>"I wish you fellows would shut up and go to sleep," said a querulous +voice from a nearby dugout.</p> + +<p>"You don't know what you're talking about, Gal; General Sherman was an +optimist."</p> + +<p>"It doesn't do any good to talk about it now," said Art Pratt, in a +matter of fact voice. "Some of you enlisted so full of love of country +that there was patriotism running down your chin, and some of you +enlisted because you were disappointed in love, but the most of you +enlisted for love of adventure, and you're getting it."</p> + +<p>Again the querulous subterranean voice interrupted: "Go to sleep, you +fellows—there's none of you knows what you're talking about. There's +only one reason any of us enlisted, and <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span>that's pure, low down, +unmitigated ignorance." Amid general laughter the class in applied +psychology broke up, and distributed themselves in their various +dugouts.</p> + +<p>Halfway down to my dugout, I was arrested by the sound of scuffling, +much blowing and puffing, and finally the satisfied grunt that I knew +proceeded from Hebe Wheeler.</p> + +<p>"I've got a spy," he yelled. "Here's a bloody Turk."</p> + +<p>"Turk nothing," said a disgusted voice. "Don't you know a man from +your own company?"</p> + +<p>Hebe relinquished his hold on his captive and subsided, grumbling. The +other arose, shook himself, and went his way, voicing his opinion of +people who built their dugouts flush with the ground.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the news from the Western front?" said Art, when +I located him.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The enemy are on the run at the Western front. The British have taken +four lines of German trenches for a distance of over five miles in the +vicinity of Loos. The bulletin board at <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span>Brigade headquarters says +that they have captured several large guns, a number of machine guns, +and seventeen thousand unwounded prisoners. If they can keep this up +long enough for the Turks to realize that it is hopeless to expect any +help from that quarter, Abdul Pasha will soon give in."</p> + +<p>We were talking about Abdul Pasha's surrendering when we dropped off +to sleep. We must have been asleep about two hours when the insistent, +crackling sound of rapid fire, momentarily increasing in volume, +brought us to our feet. Away up on the right, where the Australians +were, the sky was a red glare from the flashing of many rifles. +Against this, we could see the occasional flare of different colored +rockets that gave the warships their signals for shelling. Very soon +one of our officers appeared.</p> + +<p>"Stand to arms for the Newfoundlanders," he said.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"The Australians are advancing," he answered. "We'll go up as +reinforcements if we're needed. Tell your men to put on their +ammunition belts, and have their rifles ready. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span>They needn't put on +their packs; but keep them near them so that they can slip them on if +we get the order to move away."</p> + +<p>I went about among the men of my section, passing along the word. +Everybody was tingling with excitement. Nobody knew just what was +about to happen; but every one thought that whatever it was it would +prove interesting. For about half an hour the rapid fire kept up, then +by degrees died down.</p> + +<p>"Did you see that last rocket?" said a man near me; "that means +they've done it. A red rocket means that the navy is to fire, a green +to continue firing, and a white one means that we've won."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Mr. Nunns walked toward us. "You can put your +equipments off, and turn in again," he said, "nothing doing to-night."</p> + +<p>"What is all the excitement?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's the Anzacs again," he said; "when they heard of the advance +at Loos, they went over across, and surprised the Turks. They've taken +two lines of trenches. They did it without any orders—just wanted to +celebrate the good news."</p> + +<p>I was awakened the next morning by the sound <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span>of a whizz-bang flying +over our dugout. Johnny Turk was sending us his best respects. I shook +Art, who was sleeping heavily.</p> + +<p>"Get up, Art," I said. I might as well have spoken to a stone wall. I +tried again. Putting my mouth to his ear, I shouted, "Stand to, Art. +Stand to."</p> + +<p>Art turned over, sleeping. "I'll stand three if you like, but don't +disturb me," he muttered, and relapsed into coma.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, two or three more shells came along. They were well +over the ridge behind us, but were landing almost in the midst of +another line of dugouts. I stood gazing at them for a little while. A +man passed me running madly. "Come on," he gasped, "and yell for the +stretcher." I followed him without further question. "It's all right," +he said, slowing up just before we came to the line of dugouts that +had just been shelled. "They've got him all right." We continued +toward a group that crowded about a stretcher. A man was lying on it, +with his head raised on a haversack. He rolled his eyes slowly and +surveyed the group. "What the hell is the matter?" he said dazedly; +then felt himself over gingerly for wounds. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span>Apparently he could find +none. "What hit me?" he asked, appealing to a grinning Red Cross man.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," said the other, "except about a ton of earth. It's a lucky +thing some one saw you. That last shell buried you alive."</p> + +<p>The whistle of a coming shell dispersed the grinning spectators. I +went back to my dugout, and found Art busily toasting some bread over +the sieve that I had commandeered the day before.</p> + +<p>"What was the excitement?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Charlie Renouf," I said, "was buried alive."</p> + +<p>"Heavens," said Art, "he's the postman; we can't afford to lose him. +That reminds me that I've got to write some letters."</p> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep114" id="imagep114"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep114.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep114.jpg" width="85%" alt="Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at Suvla" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at Suvla<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +</div> + +<p>After we had finished breakfast, Art produced some writing paper and +an indelible pencil. I did not have any writing paper, but I +contributed a supply of service postcards, that bear such meager +information as "I am quite well," "I am sick," "I am wounded," "I am +in hospital and doing well," "I am in hospital and expect to be +discharged soon," "I have not heard from you for a long time," "I have +had no letter from you since ——," "I have your letter of ——," "I +have received your parcel of ——," and a space for the date and the +signature. When a man <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span>writes home from the front, he crosses out +all but the sentences he wants read, puts in the date, and adds his +signature. This is the ordinary means of communication. About once a +week a man is allowed to write some letters; but these are censored by +his platoon officer, who seals them, and signs his name as a record of +their having been passed by him. Sometimes the censor at the base +opens a few of them. Perhaps once a fortnight a few privileged +characters are given large blue envelopes, that have printed in the +corner:</p> + +<div class="block1"><p class="noin sc">Note.—</p> + +<p>Correspondence in this envelope need not be censored +Regimentally. The contents are liable to examination at the +Base.</p> + +<p>The following Certificate must be signed by the writer:</p> + +<p><i>I certify on my honour that the contents of this envelope refer +to nothing but private and family matters.</i></p> + +<p class="noin"><i>Signature</i></p> + +<p>(<i>Name only</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p>While we were writing, the orderly sergeant, that dread of loafers, +who appoints all details for fatigue work, bore down upon our dugout. +"Two men from you, Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "for bomb throwers. +Give me their names as soon as you can. They're for practice this +afternoon."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span>"One here, right away," said Art, "and put Lew O'Dea down for the +other."</p> + +<p>Lew O'Dea was a character. He was in the next dugout to me. The first +day on the Peninsula, his rifle had stuck full of sand, and some one +had stolen his tin canteen for cooking food. He immediately formed +himself into an anti-poverty society of one thereafter, and went +around like a walking arsenal. I never saw him with fewer than three +rifles, usually he carried half a dozen. He always kept two or three +of them spotlessly clean; so that no matter when rifle inspection +came, he always had at least one to show. He had been a little late in +getting his rifle clean once and was determined not to be caught any +more. His equipment always contained a varied assortment of canteens, +seven or eight gas masks, and his dugout was luxurious with rubber +sheets and blankets. "I inherited them," he always answered, whenever +anybody questioned him about them. With ammunition for his several +rifles, when he started for the trenches in full marching order, he +carried a load that a mule need by no means have been ashamed of.</p> + +<p>"Do you want to go on bomb throwing detail <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span>this afternoon?" I called +to O'Dea across the top of the dugout.</p> + +<p>"Sure," he answered; "does a swim want to duck?"</p> + +<p>"Fine," I said; "report here at two o'clock."</p> + +<p>At two o'clock, accompanied by an officer and a sergeant, we went down +the road a little way to where some Australians were conducting a +class in bomb throwing. A brown-faced chap from Sydney showed me the +difference between bombs that you explode by lighting a match, bombs +that are started by pulling out a plug, and the dinky little +three-second "cricket balls" that explode by pressing a spring. I +asked him about the attack the night before. He told me that they had +been for some time waiting for a chance to make a local advance that +would capture an important redoubt in the Turkish line. Every night at +exactly nine o'clock, the Navy had thrown a searchlight on the part of +the line the Anzacs wanted to capture. For ten minutes they kept up +heavy firing. Then, after a ten minutes' interval of darkness and +suspended firing, they began a second illumination and bombardment, +commencing always at twenty minutes past nine, and ending precisely +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span>at half past. After a little while, the enemy, knowing just the exact +minute the bombardment was to begin, took the first beam of the +searchlight as a hint to clear out. But the night before, a crowd of +eager Australians had crept softly along in the shadow made doubly +dark by the glare of the searchlight, the noise of their advance +covered by the sound of the bombardment. As soon as the bombardment +ceased and the searchlight's beam was succeeded by darkness, they +poured into the Turkish position. They had taken the astonished Turks +completely by surprise.</p> + +<p>"We didn't expect to make the attack for another week," said the +Australian; "but as soon as our boys heard that we were winning in +France, they thought they'd better start something. There hasn't been +any excitement over our way now for a long time," he said. "I'm about +fed up on this waiting around the trenches." He fingered one of the +little cricket-ball bombs caressingly. "Think of it," he said; "all +you do is press that little spring, and three seconds after you're a +casualty."</p> + +<p>"Pressing that little spring," said I, "is my idea of nothing to do, +unless you're a particularly fast sprinter."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span>"By the Lord Harry, Newfoundland," said the Australian, with a +peculiar, excited glint in his eye, "that's an inspiration."</p> + +<p>"What's an inspiration?" I asked, in bewilderment.</p> + +<p>The Australian stretched himself on the ground beside me, resting his +chin in his cupped hands. "When I was in Sydney," he said slowly and +thoughtfully, "I did a hundred yards in ten seconds easily. Now if I +can get in a traverse that's only eight or nine yards long, and press +the spring of one of those little cricket balls, I ought to be able to +get out on the other side of the traverse before it explodes."</p> + +<p>Art and Lew O'Dea passed along just then and I jumped up to go with +them. "Don't forget to look for me if you're over around the Fifteenth +Australians," said the Australian. "Ask for White George."</p> + +<p>"I won't forget," I said, as I hurried away to join the others.</p> + +<p>We were about half way to our dugouts when we passed a string of our +men carrying about twenty mail bags. It was the second instalment of a +lot of mail that had been landed the day before. We followed the +sweating carriers up the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span>road to the quarter-master sergeant's +dugout, and waited around humbly while that autocrat leisurely sorted +out the mail, making remarks about each letter and waiting after each +remark for the applause he felt it deserved. With maddening +deliberation he scanned each address. "Corporal W.P. Costello." "He's +at the base," some one answered. Corporal Costello's letter was put +aside. "Private George Butler." Private Butler, on the edge of the +crowd, pushed and elbowed his way toward the quarter-master sergeant. +"Here you are; letter for Butler." The august Q.M.S. placed the letter +beside his elbow. "Wait till the lot's sorted, and you'll get them all +together." Private Butler, with ill-restrained impatience, resumed his +place on the outside. After the letters, the parcels had to be sorted. +Some enterprising person at the base had opened a lot of them. One +fellow received a large box of cigarettes that he would have enjoyed +smoking if the man at the base had not seen them first. Art Pratt drew +a lot of mail, including a parcel, intact except for the contents. A +diligent search in a box a foot square failed to locate anything more +than a pair of socks, which Art presented to me with his compliments. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span>Some papers, two months old, with some casualty lists of the First +Newfoundland Regiment, had no address; the wrapper had gone before, +somewhere between Newfoundland and the Dardanelles. Everybody claimed +the papers. Various proofs were offered to show the ownership. One +fellow knew by the way they were rolled up that they were from his +family. Another, more original than the rest, was certain they were +his, because he had written for papers of those dates, in order to see +the announcement of the casualty of a friend. It was pointed out +derisively that a letter written after that casualty had occurred +would only then have reached Newfoundland; and to get a lot of papers +in reply would be a physical impossibility. The claimant, in no wise +abashed, suggested that lots be drawn. This was pooh-poohed. At last, +to avoid discussion, the quarter-master sergeant took the papers +himself, and put them in his greatcoat. "I'll distribute them after +I've read them," he announced, and pulled the rubber sheet across the +top of his dugout, as a delicate hint that the interview was finished. +The crowd slowly melted away. I received one letter, and was sitting +on the edge of my dugout reading it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span>when one of our men passing +along, yelled to me. "Hey," he said, "you come from the United States, +don't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said; "what do you want to know that for?"</p> + +<p>"I've got something here," he said, stopping, "that comes from there +too." He dived into his pocket, and produced a medley of articles. +From these he selected a small paper-wrapped parcel.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" I said.</p> + +<p>"It's chewing gum," he answered; "real American chewing gum like the +girls chew in the subway in New York." He unwrapped it, selected a +piece, placed it in his mouth, and began chewing it with elaborated +enjoyment. After a few minutes, he came nearer. "By golly," he said, +with an exaggerated nasal drawl, "it's good gum, I'll soon begin to +feel like a blooming Yank. I'm talking like a Yank already. Don't you +wish you had some of this?"</p> + +<p>"I'll make you a sporting offer," I answered. "I'll fight you for the +rest of what you've got."</p> + +<p>"No, you won't," he answered nasally; "it's made me feel exactly like +a Yank; I'm too proud to fight."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER V<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>WAITING FOR THE WAR TO CEASE</h4> +<br /> + +<p>We were still in dugouts when Art Pratt woke me one morning with a +vicious kick, to show me my boots lying outside of the dugout, filled +with rain water. All the night before it had poured steadily, but now +it was clearing nicely. The Island of Imbros, fifteen miles away, that +seemed to draw a great deal nearer before every rainstorm, had +retreated to its normal position. The sky was still gray, but it was +the leaden gray of a Turkish autumn day. From Suvla Bay the wind blew +keen and piercing. I salved the boots from the rain puddle, emptied +them, dried them out as best I could with my puttees, and put them on. +Art, in his own inimitable way, said unprintable things about a rifle +that had been left outside, and that now necessitated laborious +cleaning, in time for rifle inspection. All through breakfast, Lew +O'Dea elaborated on the much-quoted remarks of the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span>Governor of North +Carolina to the Governor of South Carolina. Rum had not been issued as +per schedule the evening before. Art began a maliciously fabricated +story of a conversation he had heard in which a senior officer had +stated that now that the cold weather had come, there would be no more +rum. Just then, some one shouted, to "Look up in the sky." From the +direction of the trenches a dark cloud was coming rapidly toward us. +(A few nights before, while we were in trenches, we had been ordered +to put on our gas masks; for, a little to the right of us, the Turks +had turned the poison gas on the Gurkhas.) At first, the dark mass in +the sky appeared to some to be poison gas. They immediately dived for +their gas masks. As it came nearer, however, we were able to +distinguish that it was not a cloud, but a huge flock of wild geese, +beginning their southern migration. O'Dea selected a rifle from his +collection, loaded it, and waited till the geese were almost directly +overhead; then, amid derisive cheering, he fired ten rounds at them. +They were much too high in air for a successful shot, even if he had +used gunshot; but even after they were almost over Imbros Island, Lew +continued firing. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span>When an officer arrived, demanding sarcastically if +Lew O'Dea wouldn't sooner send some written invitations to the Turks +to shell us, he subsided, and began cleaning his artillery. Until +then, we had been wearing thin khaki duck uniforms with short pants +that made us look like boy scouts. We had found these rather cool at +night; but in the hot days we preferred them to the heavy khaki drill +uniforms that were kept in kit bags at the beach. I had landed without +a kit bag, and the change of uniform I kept in the pack I carried on +my back. A little while before, I had put on the heavy uniform and +thrown away the light weight one. On the Peninsula, when you have to +walk with all your possessions on your back, each additional ounce +counts for much. As soon as we found that it was impossible to get +water to wash or shave in, we threw away our towels and soap. A few +kept their razors. The only thing I hung on to was my tooth brush—not +for its legitimate purpose, but to clean the sand and grit out of my +rifle.</p> + +<p>"Go over and ask Mr. Nunns," said Art to me, while we were cleaning +our rifles, "if he'll give us a pass to go down to the beach to find +my kit bag. I'll finish cleaning your rifle while you <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span>go over." I +handed the rifle to Art, and went over to look for Mr. Nunns. When I +found him he was censoring some letters.</p> + +<p>"You'd better wait till this afternoon, before going," he said. "I +want you to take twenty men and carry up ten boxes of ammunition to +the firing line, where A Company are. They're coming out to-morrow +night and we're to relieve them." He gave me a pass, and I took it +over to Art.</p> + +<p>"You can go down this morning if you like," I said, "or you can wait +till I get back from this ammunition detail."</p> + +<p>"If you're not later than two o'clock," said Art, "I'll wait for you."</p> + +<p>I found the detail of twenty men for ammunition-carrying waiting for +me near the field kitchen. We crawled cautiously along some open +ground, past the quarter-master's dugout and the dugouts that were +dignified by the name of orderly room, where the colonel and adjutant +conducted the clerical business of the battalion, issued daily orders, +and sentenced defaulters. "Napoleon knew what was what," said the man +near me, as he wriggled along, "when he said that an army fights on +its stomach. I've been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span>on my stomach half the time since I've been in +Gallipoli." We straightened up when we came to the communication +trench that gave us cover from snipers. Ordinarily we walked upright +when we were behind the lines, but for a few days past enemy snipers +had been extraordinarily active. The Turkish snipers were the most +effective part of their organization. Each sniper was armed with a +rifle with telescopic sights. With a rifle so equipped, a good shot +can hit a man at seven hundred yards, just as easily as the ordinary +soldier can shoot at one hundred.</p> + +<p>The ten boxes of ammunition were very heavy, and the heat of the day +necessitated a great many rests, before we reached the part of the +line held by A Company. A Company had been losing heavily for a day or +two because of snipers. A couple of the men were talking about it when +I came along.</p> + +<p>"I don't see," one of them was saying, "how they can get us at night."</p> + +<p>"It's this way," explained the other. "The cigarette makers send their +snipers out sometime at night. Instead of going back that night they +stay out for a week, or longer. All the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span>ration Johnny Turk needs is a +swallow of water, some onions, or olives, and a biscuit or two."</p> + +<p>"How is it," I asked, "we don't see them in the daytime?"</p> + +<p>"It's this way," said the A Company man. "He paints himself, his +rifle, and his clothes green. Then he twists some twigs and branches +around him and kids you he's a tree."</p> + +<p>"The way they do in this part of the trench," said another man who had +been listening to the conversation, "is to work in pairs. They get a +dugout somewhere where they can get a pretty good view of our +trenches. They see where we move about most, and aim their machine gun +at the top of the parapet. Then they clamp it down. At night when the +sentries are posted, they simply press the trigger, and there are some +more casualties."</p> + +<p>"You've got to hand it to Johnny Turk, just the same," said the first +man. "One of them will stand up in his dugout in broad daylight, +exposed from his waist up, and give you a chance to pot him, so that +his mate can get you. We used to lose men that way first. As soon as +we aimed, the second sniper turned his machine gun on us and got our +man. Now we've found a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span>better way. We stick a helmet up on top of a +rifle just above the parapet, and fire from another part of the +trench."</p> + +<p>"We've been having trouble with them down in dugouts," I said. "Some +of the fellows say it's stray bullets, but it seems to me that they're +going too fast to be spent. You can tell a bullet that's spent by the +sound."</p> + +<p>One of the A Company sergeants who had been listening to the +discussion joined in. "It's snipers all right," he said. "It's easy +enough for a German officer to get into our trenches. Men are coming +in all the time from working parties, and night patrols, and the +engineers go back and forth every hour or so fixing up the barb wire. +Only a little while ago they found one fellow. He had stripped a +uniform from one of our dead, dressed himself in it, and walked up to +our parapet one night. The sentry didn't know the difference, because +the other fellow spoke good English, so he let him pass. All they have +to do is say 'What ho,' or, 'Where's the Dublin's section of trench?' +They can get by all right."</p> + +<p>The officer to whom I had delivered the ammunition sent word that it +had been checked and that we could return to our company. We were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span>only a short distance down the communication trench when a party of +officers came along. We drew a little to one side, and stopped to let +them pass. Not one of them was under the rank of lieutenant-colonel, +and one of them was a general. He was a rather tall, spare man, with a +drooping brown mustache. He was most unlike the usual type of gruff, +surly general officers in charge. His eyes had a kindly, +friend-of-the-family sort of twinkle. His type was more like a +superintendent of construction, or a kindly old family physician. +"Look at the ribbons on the old boy's chest," said the man near me. +"He's got enough medals to make a keel for a battleship." In the +British army, those who have seen previous service wear on the breast +of their tunics the ribbons for each campaign. The general halted his +red-tabbed staff where we stood.</p> + +<p>"Are you Newfoundlanders, Corporal?" he said to me.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> + +<p>"They've made it pretty warm for you since you've been here," he +added, with a smile. "Your men are most efficient trench diggers. If I +had an army like them, we'd dig our way to Constantinople." With that +he passed on with a smile. A pompous-looking sergeant brought up +the rear of the general's escort.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep131" id="imagep131"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep131.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep131.jpg" width="85%" alt="Landing British troops from the transports at the Dardanelles under the protection of the battleships" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Landing British troops from the transports at the Dardanelles under the protection of the battleships<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span>"Who was that, that just spoke to us, Sergeant?" I asked.</p> + +<p>The sergeant surveyed me contemptuously. "Is it possible that you don't +know 'im. 'E's General Sir Ian Hamilton, General Commander-in-Chief of +the Mediterranean Force, 'e is."</p> + +<p>General Sir Ian Hamilton has won the unquestioned devotion of the +First Newfoundland Regiment. Many times after that, he visited the +front line trenches and stopped to exchange a few words with men here +and there. It is a curious thing that while the young subaltern +lieutenants held themselves very much aloof, the senior officers +chatted amiably with our men. The Newfoundlanders, democratic to the +core, hated anything that in the least savored of "side," and they +admired the courage of a general officer who took his chances in the +firing line.</p> + +<p>Art was waiting for me when I reached the dugout after my ammunition +fatigue. I accompanied him down the mule path that led along the edge +of the Salt Lake to West Beach, where we had made our landing the +first night. The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span>place looked very different now. Under the shelter +of the beetling cliffs, the engineers had constructed dugouts of all +sorts. The beach was piled high with boxes of beef, biscuits, jam, +lime juice, and rum. At the top of the hill, a temporary dressing +station for the wounded had been built; and nearer the beach was a +clearing station, from which the wounded were taken by motor ambulance +to the hospital ship. At different points along the beach, piers had +been built for the landing of supplies and troops, and for the loading +of wounded into lighters to be taken to the hospital ships waiting out +in deeper water. The Australians had put up a wire fence around a part +of beach and used it for a graveyard. We found the man in charge of +the kit bags of the Newfoundlanders, and after much search located +Art's bag, and took out the stuff we wanted. On the way back, in a +little ravine just on the edge of the Salt Lake, we came upon two +horsemen. They were General Hamilton and his aide. The general +returned our salute smilingly.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" said Art.</p> + +<p>"It's Sir Ian Hamilton," I said. "Doesn't <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span>he look like the sort of +man it would be wise to confide in?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, he does," said Art. "Evidently he has confidence in our troops' +ability to hold their own," added Art. "The Turks have four lines of +trenches to fall back on; we have only one firing line."</p> + +<p>There was the same group around the field kitchen when we arrived back +at our lines. They were swapping yarns and telling stories with a +lurid intermixture of profanity and a liberal sprinkling of trench +slang. To me, one of the most interesting side lights of the war is +the slang that forms a great part of the vocabulary of the trenches. +Early morning tea, when we got it, was "gun-fire." A Turk was never a +Turk. He was a Turkey, Abdul Pasha, or a cigarette maker. A regiment +is a "mob." A psychologist would have been interested to see that +nobody ever spoke of a comrade as having died or been killed, but had +"gone west." All the time I was at the front, I never heard one of our +men say that another had been killed. A man who was killed in our +regiment had "lost his can," although this referred most <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span>particularly +to men shot through the head. Ordinarily a dead man was called a +"washout"; or it was said that he had "copped it." The caution to keep +your head down always came, "Keep your napper down low." To get +wounded with one of our own bullets was to get a "dose of +three-o-three." The bullet has a diameter of three-hundred-and-three +thousandths of an inch.</p> + +<p>Mr. Nunns came toward the group, looking for Stenlake. It was Sunday +afternoon, and he thought it would be well to have a service. Stenlake +was found, and a crowd trailed after him to an empty dugout, where he +gathered them about him and began. It was a simple, sincere service. +Out there in that barren country, it seemed a strange thing to see +those rough men gathered about Stenlake while he read a passage or led +a hymn. But it was most impressive. The service was almost over, and +Stenlake was offering a final prayer, when the Turkish batteries +opened fire. Ordinarily at the first sound of a shell, men dived for +shelter; but gathered around that dugout, where a single shell could +have wrought awful havoc, not a man stirred. They stayed motionless, +heads bowed reverently, until Stenlake had finished. Then quietly +they <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span>dispersed. As a lesson in faith it was most illuminating.</p> + +<p>It was strange to see week by week the psychological change that had +come over the men. Most of all I noticed it in the songs they sang. At +first the songs had been of a boisterous character, that foretold +direful things that would happen to the Kaiser and his family "As we +go marching through Germany." These had all given place to songs that +voiced to some extent the longing for home that possessed these +voluntary exiles. "I want to go back to Michigan" was a favorite. +Perhaps even more so was "The little gray home in the West." +"Tipperary" was still in demand, not because of the lilt of a march +that it held, but for the pathetic little touch of "my heart's right +there," and perhaps for the reference to "the sweetest girl I know."</p> + +<p>Perhaps it may have been the effect of Stenlake's service, or it may +have been the news that we were to go into the firing line the next +day, that made the men seek their dugouts early that Sunday evening. +But there was something heavy in the air that night. For almost a week +we had been comparatively safe in dugouts. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span>Tomorrow we were again to +go into the firing line and wait impotently while our number was +reduced gradually but pitilessly. The hopelessness of the thing seemed +clearer that evening than any other time we had been there. Simpson, +"the Man with the Donkeys," had been killed that day. After a whole +summer in which he seemed to be impervious to bullets, a stray bullet +had caught him in the heart on his way down Shrapnel Valley with a +consignment of wounded. Simpson had been so much a part of the +Peninsular life that it was hard to realize that he had gone to swell +the list of heroes that Australia has so much cause to be proud of. A +Company had suffered heavily in the front line trenches that day. A +number of stretchers had passed down the road that ran in front of our +dugouts, with A Company men for the dressing station on the beach. +Snipers had been busy. From the A Company stretcher-bearers came news +that others had been killed. One piece of news filtered slowly down to +us that evening, that had an unaccountably strange effect on the men +of B Company. Sam Lodge had been killed. Sam Lodge was perhaps the +most widely known man in the whole regiment. There were very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span>few +Newfoundlanders who did not think kindly of the big, quiet, reliable +looking college man. He had enlisted at the very first call for +volunteers. Other men had been killed that day; and since the regiment +had been at Gallipoli, men had stood by while their dugout mates were +torn by shrapnel or sank down moaning, with a sniper's bullet in the +brain; but nothing had ever had the same effect, at any rate on the +men of our company, as the news that Sam Lodge had been killed that +day. Perhaps it was that everybody knew him. Other nights men had +crowded around the fire, telling stories, exchanging gossip, or +singing. To-night all was quiet; there was not even the sound of men +creeping about from dugout to dugout, visiting chums. Suddenly, from +away up on the extreme right end of the line of dugouts, came the +sound of a clear tenor voice, singing, "Tenting To-night on the Old +Camp Ground." Never have I heard anything so mournful. It is +impossible to describe the penetrating pathos of the old Civil War +song. Slowly the singer continued, amidst a profound hush. His voice +sank, until one could scarcely catch the words when he sang, "Waiting +for the war to cease." At last he finished. There was <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span>scarcely a +stir, as the men dropped off to sleep.</p> + +<p>It was a quiet, sober lot of men who filed into a shady, tree-dotted +ravine the next day behind the stretcher that bore the remains of +Private Sam Lodge. Stenlake read the burial service. Everybody who +could turned out to pay their last respects to the best liked man in +the regiment. After the brief service, Colonel Burton, the commanding +officer, Captain Carty, Lodge's company commander, a group of senior +and junior officers, and a number of profoundly affected soldiers +gathered about the grave while the body was lowered into it. In the +shade of a spreading tree, within sound of the mournful wash of the +tide in Suvla Bay, lies poor Sam Lodge, a good, cheerful soldier, +uncomplaining always, a man whose last thought was for others. "Don't +bother to lift me down off the parapet, boys," he had said when he was +hit; "I'm finished."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER VI<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>NO MAN'S LAND</h4> +<br /> + +<p>Our dugouts were located about a quarter of a mile inland from the +edge of the Salt Lake. Somewhere at the other side of the Salt Lake +was the cleverly concealed landing place of the aëroplane service. +Commander Sampson, who had been in action since the beginning of the +war, was in charge of the aëroplane squadron. One day, by clever +manœuvering he forced one of the enemy planes, a Taube, away from +its own lines and back over the Salt Lake. Here after a spectacular +fight in mid air, Sampson forced the other to surrender and captured +his machine. The Taube he thereafter used for daily reconnaissance. +Every afternoon we watched him hover over the Turkish lines, circle +clear of their bursting shrapnel, poising long enough to complete his +observations, then return to the Salt Lake with his report for our +artillery and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span>navy. The day after Sam Lodge's burial, we watched +two hostile 'planes chase Sampson back right to our trenches. When +they came near enough, our men opened rapid fire that forced them to +turn; but before Sampson reached his landing place at Salt Lake, we +could see that he was in trouble. One of the wings of his machine was +drooping badly. From the other side of the Salt Lake, a motor +ambulance was tearing along towards the place where he was expected to +land. The Taube sank gradually to the ground, the ambulance drew up to +within about thirty feet of it, and turned about, waiting. We saw +Sampson jump out of his seat, almost before the machine touched the +ground, and walk to the waiting ambulance. The ambulance had just +started, when a shell from a Turkish gun hit the prostrate aëroplane +and tore a large hole in it. With marvelous precision, the Turkish +battery pumped three or four shells almost on top of the first. In a +few minutes, all that was left of the Taube was a twisted mass of +frame work; of the wings, not a fragment remained.</p> + +<p>But although Sampson had lost his 'plane, he had completed his +mission. About half an hour later, the navy in the bay began a +bombardment. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span>We could see the men-o'-war lined up, pouring broadsides +over our heads into the Turkish trenches. First, we saw the gray ships +calmly riding the waves; then, from their sides came puffs of whitish +gray smoke, and the flash of the discharge, followed by the jarring +report of the explosion. Around the bend of Anafarta Bay, we saw +creeping in a strange, low-lying, awkward-looking craft that reminded +one of the barges one sees used for dredging harbors. It was one of +the new monitors, the most efficiently destructive vessel in the navy. +Soon the artillery on the land joined in. About four o'clock the +bombardment had started; and all that afternoon the terrific din kept +up. When we went into the firing line that evening at dark, the +bombardment was still going on. About nine o'clock it stopped; but at +three the next morning, it was resumed with even greater force. The +part of the line we were holding was in a valley; to the right and +left of us, the trenches ran up hill. From our position in the middle, +we had a splendid view of the other parts of the line. All that +morning the bombardment kept up. Our gunners were concentrating on the +trenches well up the hill on the left. First we watched our shells +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span>demolish the enemy's front line trench. Immense shells shrieked +through the air above our heads and landed in the Turks' firing line. +Gradually but surely the huge projectiles battered down the enemy +defenses. The Turks stuck to their ground manfully, but at last they +had to give up. Through field glasses we could see the communication +trenches choked with fleeing Turks. Some of our artillery, to prevent +their escape, concentrated on the support trenches. This manœuver +served a double purpose: besides preventing the escape of those +retreating from the battered front line trench, it stopped +reinforcements from coming up. Still farther back, a mule train +bringing up supplies, was caught in open ground in the curtain of +fire. The Turks, caught between two fires, could not escape. In a +short time all that was left of the scientifically constructed +intrenchments was a conglomerate heap of sand bags, equipments, and +machine guns; and on top of it all lay the mangled bodies of men and +mules.</p> + +<p>All through the bombardment, we had hoped for the order to go over the +parapet. When we had been rushed to the firing line the night before, +we thought it was to take part in the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span>attack. Instead of this, we +were held in the firing line. For the Worcesters on our left was +reserved the distinction of making the charge. High explosives cleared +the way for their advance, and cheering and yelling they went over +parapet. The Turks in the front line trenches, completely demoralized, +fled to the rear. A few, too weak or too sorely wounded to run, +surrendered. While the bombardment was going on, our men stood in +their trenches, craning their necks over the parapet. All through the +afternoon, the excitement was intense. Men jumped up and down, running +wildly from one point in the trench to another to get a better view. +Some fired their rifles in the general direction of the enemy; "just a +few joy guns," they said. Everybody was laughing and shouting +delightedly. Down in the bay, the gray ships looked almost as small as +launches in the mist formed by the smoke of the guns. The +Newfoundlanders might have been a crowd rooting at a baseball game. +Every few minutes, when the smoke in the bay cleared sufficiently to +reveal to us a glimpse of the ships, the trenches resounded to the +shouts of, "Come on, the navy," and "Good old Britain." And when the +great masses of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span>iron hurtled through the air and tore up sections of +the enemy's parapet, we shouted delightedly, "Iron rations for Johnny +Turk!"</p> + +<p>Prisoners taken in this engagement told us that the Turkish rank and +file heartily hated their German officers. From the first, they had +not taken kindly to underground warfare. The Turks were accustomed to +guerrilla fighting, and had to be driven into the trenches by the +German officers at the point of their revolvers. One prisoner said +that he had been an officer; but since the beginning of the campaign, +he had been replaced by a German. At that time, he told us, the Turks +were officered entirely by Germans. For two or three days after that, +at short intervals, one or two at a time, Turks dribbled in to +surrender. They were tired of fighting, they said, and were almost +starved to death. Many more would surrender, they told us, but they +were kept back by fear of being shot by their German officers.</p> + +<p>With the monotony varied occasionally by some local engagement like +this, we dragged through the hot, fly-pestered days, and cold, drafty, +vermin-infested nights of September and early October. By the middle +of October, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span>disease and scarcity of water had depleted our ranks +alarmingly. Instead of having four days on the firing line and eight +days' rest, we were holding the firing line eight days and resting +only four. In my platoon, of the six noncommissioned officers who had +started with us, only two corporals were left, one other and I. For a +week after the doctor had ordered him to leave the Peninsula, the +other corporal hung on, pluckily determined not to leave me alone. All +this time, the work of the platoon was divided between us; he stayed +up half the night, and I the other half. At last, he had to be +personally conducted to the clearing station.</p> + +<p>Just about the middle of October comes a Mohammedan feast that lasts +for three or four days. During the days of the feast, while our +battalion was in the firing line, some prisoners who surrendered told +us that the Turks were suffering severely from lack of food and warm +clothing. All sorts of rumors ran through the trench. One was that +some one had reliable information that the supreme commander of the +Turkish forces had sent to Berlin for men to reinforce his army. If +the reinforcements did not come in four days, he would surrender his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span>entire command. Men ordered off the Peninsula by the medical officer, +instead of proceeding to the clearing station, sneaked back to their +positions in the trench, waiting to see the surrender. But the +surrender never came. Things went on in the same old dreary, +changeless round. More than sickness, or bullets, the sordid monotony +had begun to tell on the men. Every day, officers were besieged with +requests for permission to go out between the lines to locate snipers. +When men were wanted for night patrol, for covering parties, or for +listening post details, every one volunteered. Ration parties to the +beach, which had formerly been a dread, were now an eagerly sought +variation, although it was a certainty that from every such party we +should lose ten per cent. of the personnel. Any change, of any sort, +was welcome. The thought of being killed had lost its fear. Daily +intercourse with death had robbed it of its horror. Here was one case +where familiarity had bred contempt. Most of the men had sunk into +apathy, simply waiting for the day their turn was to come, wondering +how soon would come the bullet that had on it their "name and number." +Most of the men in talking to each other, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span>especially to their sick +comrades, spoke hopefully of the outcome; but those I talked with +alone all had the same thought: only by a miracle could they escape +alive; that miracle was a "cushy one."</p> + +<p>One wave of hope swept over the Peninsula in that dreary time. The +brigade bulletin board contained the news that it was expected that in +a day or two at the most Bulgaria would come into the war on the side +of the Allies. To us this was of tremendous importance. With a +frontier bordering on Turkey, Bulgaria might turn the scale in our +favor. Life became again full of possibilities and interest. Our +interpreters printed up an elaborate menu in Turkish that recited the +various good things that might be found in our trenches by Turks who +would surrender. At the foot of the menus was a little note suggesting +that now was the ideal time to come in, and that the ideal way to +celebrate the feast was to become our guests. These menus we attached +to little stakes and just in front of the Turkish barbed wire we stuck +them in the ground. Several Turks came in within the next few days, +but whether as a result of this or not, it was impossible to say. The +feeling of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span>renewed hope and buoyancy caused by the news of the +imminence of Bulgaria's alliance with us was of short duration. A day +or so afterwards came the alarming news that the Allied ministers had +left Bulgaria; and the following day came word that Bulgaria had +joined in the war, not with us, but with the Central Powers. Again +apathy settled on the men. Now, too, the rainy season had set in in +earnest. Torrents of rain poured down daily on the trenches, choking +the drains, and filling the passageway with thick gray mud in which +one slipped and floundered helplessly, and which coated uniforms and +equipments like cement. One relief it did bring with it. Men who had +not had a bath, or a shave in months, were able to collect in their +rubber sheets enough rain water to wash and shave with. But the +drinking water was still scarce. On other parts of the Peninsula there +was plenty of it; but we had so few men available for duty that we +could scarcely spare enough men to go for it. Also, there was the +difficulty in securing proper receptacles for its conveyance. Most of +the men were very much exhausted, and the trip of four or five miles +for water would have been too much for them. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span>Even when we did get +water, it had to be boiled to kill the germs of disease, and to +prevent men from being poisoned. The boiled water was flat and +tasteless; and to counteract this, we were given a spoonful of lime +juice about once a week. This we put in our water bottles. About every +third day we were issued some rum. Twice a week, an officer appeared +in the trench carrying a large stone jar bearing the magic letters in +black paint, P.D.R., Pure Demerara Rum. This he doled out as if every +drop had cost a million dollars. Each man received just enough to +cover the bottom of his canteen, not more than an eighth of a tumbler. +Just before going out on any sort of night fatigue on the wet ground, +it was particularly grateful. We had long ago given up reckoning time +by the calendar, and days either were or were not "Rum days." Men who +were wounded on these days bequeathed their share to their particular +pals or to their dugout mates. Some of the men were total abstainers +with the courage of their convictions; they steadfastly refused to +touch it. The other men canvassed these on rum days for their share of +the fiery liquid, and in exchange did the temperance men's share of +fatigue duty. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span>During this time, there was very little fighting. Both +sides were intrenched and prepared to stay there for the winter. In +the particular section of trench we held, we knew that any attempt at +an advance would be hopeless and suicidal. The ground in front was too +well commanded by enemy machine guns. Still, we thought that some +other parts of the line might advance and turn one of the flanks of +the enemy. Nothing was impossible to the Dublins or the Munsters; and +there was always faith in the invincible Australasians. We could not +forget the way the Australasians a short time before had celebrated +the news of the British advance at Loos.</p> + +<p>Just after the Turkish feast, we went into dugouts again for a few +days, and back once more to the firing line. This time, we were up in +the farm house district near Chocolate Hill. It was a place +particularly exposed to shell fire; for the old skeletons of farm +houses made good targets for the enemy's guns. Every afternoon, the +Turks sent over about a dozen or so shells, just to show us that they +knew we were there. After Bulgaria came in against us, it seemed to us +that the Turks grew much more prodigal of their shells than formerly. +Where before they sent <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span>over ten, they now fired twenty. It was rather +grimly ironic to find, on examination of some of the shell casings, +that they were shells made by Great Britain and supplied to the Turks +in the Balkan War. There was a certain amount of sardonic satisfaction +in knowing that the fortifications on Achi Baba were placed there by +British engineers when we looked on the Turks as friends. No. 8 +platoon was intrenched just in front of a field in which grew a number +of apple trees. In the daytime we could not get to these, but at night +some of the more venturesome spirits crawled out and returned with +their haversacks full. A little further along was what had once been a +garden. Even now there were still growing some tomatoes and some +watermelons. The rest of it was a mass of battered stones that had +once been fences. Here it was that the old gray bearded farmers who +had been peacefully working in their fields had hung up their scythes +and taken down from their hook on the wall old rusty muskets and +fought in their dooryards to defend their homes. The oncoming troops +had swept past them, but at a tremendous cost. For a whole day the +battle had swayed back and forth. Where formerly had bloomed a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span>luxuriant garden or orchard, was now a plowed field,—plowed not with +farm implements but with shrapnel and high explosive shells. Dotting +it here and there, were the little rough wooden crosses that gave the +simple details of a man's regimental name, number, and date of death. +Not a few of them were in memory of "Unknown Comrades." And once in a +while one saw a cross that marked the resting place of the foe. +Feeling toward the enemy differed with individuals; but we were all +agreed that Johnny Turk was a good, clean, sporty fighter, who +generally gave as good as we could send. Therefore, whenever we could +we gave him decent burial, we stuck a cross up over him, although he +did not believe in what it symbolized, and we took off his +identification disk and personal papers. These we handed to our +interpreters, who sent them to the neutral consuls at Constantinople; +and they communicated through the proper channels with the deceased's +various widows.</p> + +<p>After a week or so in this district, we moved back again to our old +quarters at Anafarta village. Here we took over a block house occupied +by the Essex. The Dublins and the Munsters <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span>were on our right. The +block house was an advanced post that we held in the morning and +during the night. Every afternoon we left it for a few hours while the +enemy wasted shells on it. A couple of Irish snipers were with us. The +first day they were there, our Lieutenant, Mr. Nunns, spent the day +with them; that day, he accounted for four Turks. This was the closest +we had yet been to them. I stood up beside an Irish sniper and looked +through a pair of field glasses to where he pointed out some snipers' +dugouts. They were the same dugouts that Cooke, the Irish V.C. man, +had shown me. While I was watching, I saw an old Turk sneaking out +between his trench and one of the dugouts. He looked old and stooped +and had a long whisker that reached almost to his waist and appeared +to have difficulty in getting along. All about him were little canvas +pockets that contained bombs and about his neck was a long string of +small bombs. "Begob," said one of the Dublins, beside me, "'t is the +daddy of them all. Get him, my son." I grasped my gun excitedly and +aimed; but before I had taken the pressure of the trigger, I heard +from a little distance to the right the staccato of a machine gun. +The <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span>result was astonishing. One second, I was looking through my +sights at the Turk; the next, he had disappeared, and in his place was +the most marvelous combination of all colors of flames I have ever +seen. Literally Johnny Turk had gone up in smoke. The Irishman beside +me was standing open mouthed.</p> + +<p>"Glory be to God," he said, "what does that make you think of?"</p> + +<p>"It reminds me," I said, "of a Fourth of July celebration in the +States; and I wish," I added heartily, "I was there now."</p> + +<p>"It makes me think, my son," said the Irishman, "of the way ould Cooke +killed a lot of the sausage-makers over on the other side. He threw a +bomb in among tin of 'em and then fired his rifle at it and exploded +it. Killed every damn one of 'em, he did. 'T was the same time he got +the V.C."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," I said, "Cooke's in London now getting his medal from the +King. He's through with this Peninsula."</p> + +<p>"Thrue for you, my son," said the Irishman, "he's through with this +Peninsula, but he's not in London. 'T was just three nights ago that I +went out yonder, and tin yards in front of that dugout I found ould +Cooke's body. The Turrk got him right through the cap badge and blew +the top clean off his head. 'T is just luck. Some has it one way, and +some has it another; but whichever way you have it, it don't do you no +good to worry over it."</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep157" id="imagep157"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep157.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep157.jpg" width="50%" alt="Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity" /></a><br /> +<p class="right2" style="margin-top: .2em;">© Underwood & Underwood, N.Y.</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span>Having delivered himself of this satisfying philosophy, he resumed his +survey of the ground in front.</p> + +<p>About ten yards outside the block house we were holding, the Turks +had, under cover of darkness, almost completed a sap, with the object +of surrounding the block house. A detachment of the Dublins with three +or four bomb throwers sapped out to the left of the sap the enemy was +digging, after a short but exciting engagement, bombed them out of it, +and took the sap at the point of the bayonet. They found it occupied +by only two Turks, who surrendered. The rest were able to get back to +their own trench. We cut the corner off this sap, rounded it off to +surround our block house, and occupied it. It brought us to within +fifty yards of the enemy firing line. We could hear them talking at +night; and in the daytime we could see them walking about their +trenches. At this point, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span>they had in their lines a number of animals, +chiefly dogs. In addition, they had a brass band that played tuneless, +wailing music nearly every night, to the accompaniment of the howling +and barking of dogs. Some of the men claimed that the dogs were +trained animals who carried food to snipers and who were taught to +find the Turkish wounded. This may have been true; but I have always +believed that their chief use was to cover the noise of secret +operations. This seems likely, for they were able to get their sap +almost finished without our hearing them.</p> + +<p>The block house we held stood just in the center of the line that the +Fifth Norfolks had charged into early in August, and from which not +one man had emerged. The second or third day we occupied it, a +detachment of engineers was sent in to make loopholes and prepare it +for a stubborn defense. In the wall on the left they made a large +loophole. The sentry posted there the first morning saw about twenty +feet away the body of a British soldier, partly buried. Two volunteers +to bury the body were asked for. Half a dozen offered, although it was +broad daylight and the place the body lay in offered no protection.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span>Before any one could be selected, Art Pratt and young Hayes made the +decision by jumping up, taking their picks and shovels, and vaulting +over the wall of the block house. They walked out to where the body +lay. It had been torn in pieces by a shell the previous afternoon. At +first a few bullets tore up little spurts of ground near the two men, +but as soon as they reached the body, this stopped. The Turks never +fired on burial parties; and men on the Peninsula, wounded by snipers, +tell strange stories of dark-skinned visitors who crept up to them +after dark, bound up their wounds, gave them water, and helped them to +within shouting distance of their own lines, where at daylight the +next morning their comrades found them. Once one of our batteries was +very near a dressing station when a stray shell, fired at the battery, +hit the dressing station. The Turkish observer heliographed over and +apologized. That is why we respected the Turk. When we tried to shoot +him, he chuckled to himself and sniped us from trees and dugouts; and +when we reviled him and threw tins of apricot jam at him, he gave +thanks to Allah, and ate the jam. The empty tins he filled with powder +and returned <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span>to us in the shape of bombs. Only once did he really +lose his temper. That was when under his very eyes we deliberately +undressed on his beach and disported ourselves in the Ægean Sea. Then +he sent over shells that shrieked at us to get out of his ocean. But +in his angriest moments he respected the Red Cross and never ill +treated our wounded. One chap, an Englishman, was wounded in the head +just as he reached the Turkish trench during a charge. The bullet went +in the side of his head, ruining both his eyes. He was captured as he +toppled over into the trench, was taken to Constantinople, well +treated in hospital there, and returned in the first batch of +exchanged prisoners. When I met him in Egypt, he had nothing but kind +words for the Turks. When the enemy saw the object of the little +expedition, they allowed Art and Hayes to proceed unmolested. We +watched them dig a grave beside the corpse; and when they had +finished, with a shovel they turned the body into it. Before doing it, +they searched the man for personal papers and took off his +identification disk. These bore the name, "Sergeant Golder, Fifth +Norfolk Regiment." That was in the last part of October; and since +August 10th <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span>not a word had been heard of the missing Norfolk +regiment. To this day, the whole affair remains a mystery. The +regiment disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them up. On the +King's Sandringham estate, families are still hoping against hope that +there may sometime come word that the men are prisoners in Turkey. +Neutral consuls in Constantinople have been appealed to, and have +taken the matter up with the Turkish Government. The most searching +inquiries have elicited nothing new. The answer has always been the +same. The Turkish authorities know no more about it than the English. +Two hundred and fifty men were given the order to charge into a wood. +The only sign that they ever did so, is the little wooden cross that +reads</p> + +<h4>IN MEMORY OF<br /> +<span class="sc" style="font-size: 120%;">Sergeant J. Golder</span><br /> +FIFTH NORFOLK REGIMENT<br /> +KILLED IN ACTION</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER VII<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>WOUNDED</h4> +<br /> + +<p>The gorgeous tropical sunset had given place to the inky darkness of a +Turkish night, when we moved into trenches well up on the side of a +hill that overlooked Anafarta Plain. Here an advance had been +unsuccessful, and the Turks had counter attacked. Half way, the +British had dug in hastily, in hard limestone that resisted the pick. +No. 8 platoon held six traverses. Four of these were exposed to +enfilade fire. About two hundred yards away, at an angle on the left +front, a number of snipers had built some dugouts on Caribou Ridge. +These they manned with machine guns. From this elevation, they could +pour their fire into our trenches. Several attempts had been made to +dislodge them; but their machine guns commanded the intervening ground +and made an advance impossible. Their first line trench was about two +hundred yards in front of us. Thirty or forty yards nearer us <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span>they +were building a sap that ran parallel with their lines for about five +hundred yards. At that point it took a sharp V turn inward toward us. +The proximity of the enemy, and the contour of the ground so favorable +to them, made it necessary to take extra precautions, especially at +night. Each night, at the point where the enemy sap turned toward us, +we sent out a listening patrol of two men and a corporal. The fourth +night, my turn came. That day it had rained without cessation; and in +the early part of the evening I had tried to sleep, but my wet clothes +and the pouring rain had made it impossible. I felt rather glad when I +was told that at one-thirty I was to go out for two hours on listening +patrol. That night we had been issued some rum, and I had been +fortunate enough to get a good portion. I decided to reserve it until +I went out. About ten o'clock I gave up attempting to sleep, and +walked down the trench a little way to where a collection of trees and +brush had been laid across the top. Some one, with memories of +London's well-known meeting place, had christened it the Marble Arch. +I stood under this arch, where the rain did not penetrate, and talked +with the corporal of an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span>English regiment who were holding the line on +the other side of the Marble Arch. A Sergeant Manson, who had been +loaned to us from another platoon, came along and we talked for a +while. He had received some chocolate that evening, and the next +morning he was going to distribute it among the men. It was in a +haversack under his head, he said, and he was going to sleep on it to +prevent it from being stolen. About eleven he returned to his place on +the firing platform and went to sleep. I was ravenously hungry, and +had nothing to eat. I could not find even a biscuit. I did find some +bully beef, and ate some of it, washing it down with a swallow of the +precious rum from my water bottle. Then I remembered the chocolate +under Sergeant Manson's head, and went over to where he was lying. He +was breathing heavily in the deep sleep of exhaustion. Quietly I +slipped my hand into the haversack, and took out four or five little +cubes of chocolate about an inch long. Manson stirred sleepily and +murmured, "What do you want?" then turned over and again began +breathing regularly. It was now almost time to start for the listening +post. So I went along the trench to where I knew young Hayes was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span>sleeping. He had volunteered as one of the men to accompany me, and +from D Company I got the second man. My platoon by this time had been +reduced to eighteen men, and I was the only non-com. We had to get men +from D Company to take turns on the parapet at night, although they +were supposed to be resting at the time. Between us and the Turkish +sap a small rise covered with short evergreen bushes prevented us from +seeing them. To get to this we had to cross about fifty yards of +ground with fairly good cover, and another fifty yards of bare ground. +Where the bare ground began, a ditch filled with dank, wet grass +served as our listening post. A large tree with spreading boughs gave +us some shelter. From behind this we could watch the rising ground in +front. Any of the enemy attempting an advance had to appear over this +rise. Our instructions were to watch this, and report any movement of +the enemy, but not to fire. I left young Hayes about half way between +this tree and the trench, and the other man and I spread a rubber +sheet under the tree and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. +The rain was still coming down with a steadiness that promised little +hope of stopping. After a little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span>while I became numbed, and decided +to move about a little. When I came on the Peninsula, I had no +overcoat, but a little time before had secured a very fine gray woolen +great-coat from a Turk. It had been at one time the property of a +German officer, and was very warm and comfortable, with a large collar +and deep thick cuffs. I had worn it about the trench and it had been +the subject of much comment. That night I wore it, and over it a +raincoat. So that my movements might be less constricted, I took off +the raincoat, and left it with the D Company man, who stayed under the +tree. It was pitch dark, and I got across the open space to the +evergreen-covered rise without being seen. Here I dropped on my +stomach and wriggled between wet bushes that pricked my face, up to +the top.</p> + +<p>It was only about thirty feet, but it took me almost an hour to get up +there. By the time I had reached the top it had stopped raining and +stars had come out. I crawled laboriously a short distance down the +other side of the little hill; I parted the bushes slowly and was +preparing to draw myself a little further when I saw something that +nearly turned me sick with horror. Almost under my face were the +bodies of two <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span>men, one a Turk, the other an Englishman. They were +both on their sides, and each of them were transfixed with the bayonet +of the other. I don't know how long I stayed there. It seemed ages. At +last I gathered myself together, and withdrew cautiously, a little to +the right. My nerves were so shaken by what I had just seen that I +decided to return at once to the man under the tree. When I had gone +back about ten feet I was seized with an overwhelming desire to go +back and find out to what regiment the dead Englishman belonged. At +the moment I turned, my attention was distracted by the noise of men +walking not very far to the front. I crawled along cautiously and +peered over the top of the rise where I could see the enemy sap. The +noise was made by a digging party who were just filing into the sap. +For almost an hour I lay there watching them. It gave me a certain +satisfaction to aim my rifle at each one in turn and think of the +effect of a mere pressure of the trigger. But my orders were not to +fire. I was on listening patrol, and we had men out on different +working parties, who might be hit in the resulting return fire. At +intervals I could hear behind me the report of a rifle, and wondered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span>what fool was shooting from our lines. When I thought it was time to +go back I crawled down the hill, and found to my consternation that +the moon was full, and the space between the foot of the little rise +and the tree was stark white in the moonlight. I had just decided to +make a sharp dash across when the firing that I had heard before +recommenced. Instead of being from our lines it came from a tree a +short distance to the left, at the end of the open space. It was +Johnny Turk, cozily ensconced in a tree that overlooked our trench. +Whenever he saw a movement he fired. He used some sort of smokeless +powder that gave no flash, and it was most fortunate for me that I +happened to be at the only angle that he could be seen from. I resumed +my wriggling along the edge of the open space to where it ended in +thick grass. Through this I crawled until I had come almost to the +edge of the ditch in which I had left the other man. But to reach it I +had to cross about ten feet of perfectly bare ground that gave no +protection. Had the Turk seen me he could have hit me easily. I +decided to crawl across slowly, making no noise. I put my head out of +the thick grass and with one knee and both hands on the ground poised +as a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span>runner does at the start of a race. Against the clear white +ground I must have loomed large, for almost at once a bullet whizzed +through the top of the little brown woolen cap I was wearing. Just +then the D Company man caught sight of me, and raised his gun. "Who +goes there?" he shouted. I did some remarkably quick thinking then. I +knew that the bullet through my cap had not come from the sniper, and +that some one of our men had seen my overcoat and mistaken me for a +Turk. I knew the sniper was in the tree, and the D Company's man's +challenge would draw his attention to me; also I knew that the +Newfoundlander might shoot first and establish my identity afterwards. +He was wrong in challenging me, as his instructions were to make no +noise. But that was a question that I had to postpone settling. I +decided to take a chance on the man in the listening post. I shouted, +just loud enough for him to hear me, "Newfoundland, you damn fool, +Newfoundland," then tore across the little open space and dived head +first into the dank grass beside him. When I had recovered my breath, +with a vocabulary inspired by the occasion, I told him, clearly and +concisely, what I thought of him. While it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span>may not have been +complimentary it was beyond question candid. When I had finished, I +sent him back to relieve young Hayes with instructions to send Hayes +out to me. In a few minutes Hayes came.</p> + +<p>"Do you know, Corporal," he said as he came up beside me, "I almost +shot you a few minutes ago. I should have when the other fellow +challenged you if you hadn't said 'Newfoundland.' I fired at you once. +I saw you go out one way, and when you came back I could just see your +Turkish overcoat. 'Here,' says I to myself, 'is Abdul Pasha trying to +get the Corporal, and I'll get him.' Instead of that I almost got +you."</p> + +<p>Whether or not the noise I made caused the sniper to become more +cautious I don't know, but I heard no further shots from him from then +until the time I was relieved.</p> + +<p>The arrival of a relief patrol prevented my replying to young Hayes. I +went back to my place in the trench, but try as I might I could not +sleep; I twisted from side to side, took off my equipment and +cartridge pouches, adjusted blankets and rubber sheet, tried another +place on the firing platform; I threw myself down flat in the bottom +of the trench. Still I could not get <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span>asleep. At last I abandoned the +attempt, took from my haversack a few cigarettes, lit one, and on a +piece of coarse paper began making a little diagram of the ground I +had covered that night, and of the position of the sniper I had been +watching. By the time I had completed it daylight had come, and with +it the familiar "Stand to." After "Stand to," I crawled under a rubber +sheet and snatched a few hours' sleep before breakfast. Just after +breakfast, a man from A Company came through the trench, munching some +fancy biscuits and carrying in his hand a can of sardines. The German +Kaiser could not have created a greater impression. "Where had he got +them, and how?" He explained that a canteen had been opened at the +beach. Here you could get everything that a real grocery store boasts, +and could have it charged on your pay-book. "A Company men," he said, +"had all given orders through their quarter-master sergeant, and had +received them that morning." Then followed a list of mouth-watering +delicacies, the very names of which we had almost forgotten. A +deputation instantly waited on Mr. Nunns. He knew nothing of the +thing, and was incensed that his men had not been allowed to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span>participate in the good things. He deputed me to go down and make +inquiries at A Company's lines. I did so, and found that the first man +had been perfectly correct. A Company was reveling in sardines, white +bread, real butter, dripping from roast beef, and tins of salmon and +lobster. If we gave an order that day, I was told, we should get it +filled the next. Elated, I returned to B Company's lines with the +news. The dove returning to the ark with the olive branch could not +have been more welcome. Mr. Nunns fairly beamed satisfaction. A few of +the more pessimistic reflected aloud that they might get killed before +the things arrived.</p> + +<p>Just before nine o'clock I went down to see the cooks about dinner for +my section. On my way back I passed a man going down the trench on a +stretcher. One of the stretcher bearers told me that he had been hit +in the head while picking up rubbish on top of the parapet. He hoped +to get him to the dressing station alive. As I came into our own lines +another stretcher passed me. The man on this one was sitting up, +grinning.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Gal," he yelled. "I've stopped a cushy one."</p> + +<p>I laughed. "How did it happen?" I asked.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep175" id="imagep175"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep175.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep175.jpg" width="85%" alt="Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel Bahr are still in position" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel Bahr are still in position<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span>"Picking up rubbish on top of the parapet."</p> + +<p>He disappeared around the curve of the trench, delightedly spreading +the news that he had stopped a cushy one in the leg. I kept on back to +my own traverse, and showed the diagram I had made the night before to +Art Pratt. Mr. Nunns had granted us leave to go out that day to try to +get the sniper in the tree. Art was delighted at the chance of some +variety. While Art and I were making out a list of things we wanted at +the canteen, a man in my section came down the trench.</p> + +<p>"Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "the Brigade Major passed through the +lines a few minutes ago, and he's raising hell at the state of the +lines; you've got to go out with five men, picking up rubbish on top +of the parapet."</p> + +<p>Instantly there came before my eyes the vision of the strangely limp +form I had met only a few minutes before that had been hit in the head +"picking up rubbish on top of the parapet." But in the army one cannot +stop to think of such things long; orders have to be obeyed. Since +coming into the trench we had constructed a dump, but the former +occupants of the trench had thrown their refuse on top of the +parapet. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span>My job with the five men was to collect this rubbish and put +it in our dump. At nine o'clock in the morning we mounted the parapet +and began digging. There was no cover for men standing; the low bushes +hid men sitting or lying. Every few minutes I gave the men a rest, +making them sit in the shelter of the underbrush. The sun was shining +brightly; and after the wet spell we had just passed through, the +warmth was peculiarly grateful. The news that the canteen had been +opened on the beach made most of the men optimistic. With good things +to eat in sight life immediately became more bearable. Never since the +first day they landed had the men seemed so cheerful. Up there where +we were the sun was very welcome, and we took our time over the job. +One chap had that morning been given fourteen days' field punishment, +because he had left his post for a few seconds the night before. He +wanted to get a pipe from his coat pocket, and did not think it worth +while to ask any one to relieve him. It was just those few seconds +that one of the brigade officers selected to visit our trench. When he +saw the post vacant, he waited until the man returned, asked his name, +then reported him. Field punishment meant <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span>that in addition to his +regular duties the man would have to work in every digging party or +fatigue detail. I asked him why he had not sent for me, and he told me +that it had happened while I was out in the listening patrol. He was +not worrying about the punishment, but feared that his parents might +hear of it through some one writing home. But after a little while +even he caught the spirit of cheerfulness that had spread amongst us +at the news of the new canteen. To the average person meals are like +the small white spaces in a book that divide the paragraphs; to us +they had assumed the proportions of the paragraph themselves. The man +who had just got field punishment told me the things he had ordered at +the canteen, and we compared notes and made suggestions. The +ubiquitous Hayes, working like a beaver with his entrenching tool, +threw remarks over his shoulder anent the man who had delayed the +information that the canteen had been established, and offered some +original and unique suggestions for that individual's punishment. When +we had the rubbish all scraped up in a pile, we took it on shovels to +the dump we had dug. To do this we had to walk upright. We had almost +finished when the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span>snipers on Caribou Ridge began to bang at us. I +jumped to a small depression, and yelled to the men to take cover. +They were ahead of me, taking the last shovelful of rubbish to the +trench. At the warning to take cover, they separated and dived for the +bushes on either side. That is, they all did except Hayes, who either +did not hear me or did not know just where to go. I stepped up out of +the depression and pointed with outstretched arm to a cluster of +underbrush. "Get in there, Hayes!" I yelled. Just then I felt a dull +thud in my left shoulder blade, and a sharp pain in the region of my +heart. At first I thought that in running for cover one of the men had +thrown a pick-ax that hit me. Until I felt the blood trickling down my +back like warm water, it did not occur to me that I had been hit. Then +came a drowsy, languid sensation, the most enjoyable and pleasant I +have ever experienced. It seemed to me that my backbone became like +pulp, and I closed up like a concertina. Gradually I felt my knees +giving way under me, then my head dropped over on my chest, and down I +went. In Egypt I had seen Mohammedans praying with their faces toward +Mecca, and as I collapsed I thought that I must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>look exactly as they +did when they bent over and touched their heads to the ground, +worshiping the Prophet. Connecting the pain in my chest with the blow +in my back, I decided that the bullet had gone in my shoulder, through +my left lung, and out through my heart, and I concluded I was done +for. I can distinctly remember thinking of myself as some one else. I +recollect saying, half regretfully, "Poor old Gal is out of luck this +morning," then adding philosophically, "Well, he had a good time while +he was alive, anyway." By now things had grown very dim, and I felt +everything slipping away from me. I was myself again, but I said to +that other self who was lying there, as I thought, dying, "Buck up, +old Gal, and die like a sport." Just then I tried to say, "I'm hit." +It sounded as if somewhere miles away a faint echo mocked me. I must +have succeeded in making myself heard, because immediately I could +hear Hayes yell with a frenzied oath, "The Corporal's struck. Can't +you see the Corporal's struck?" and heard him curse the Turk who had +fired the shot. Almost instantly Hayes was kneeling beside me, trying +to find the wound. He was much more excited over it than I.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span>"Don't you try to bandage it here," I said; "yell for stretcher +bearers."</p> + +<p>Hayes jumped up, shouting lustily, "Stretcher bearers at the double, +stretcher bearers at the double!" then added as an after-thought, +"Tell Art Pratt the Corporal's struck."</p> + +<p>I was now quite clear headed again and told Hayes to shout for "B +Company stretcher bearers." On the Peninsula messages were sent along +the trench from man to man. Sometimes when a traverse separated two +men, the one receiving the message did not bother to step around, but +just shouted the message over. Often it was not heard, and the message +stopped right there. One message there was though, that never +miscarried, the one that came most frequently, "Stretcher bearers at +the double." Unless the bearers from some particular company were +specified, all who received the message responded. It was to avoid +this that I told Hayes to yell for B Company stretcher bearers. +Apparently some one had heard Hayes yell, "Tell Art Pratt the +Corporal's struck," because in a few minutes Art was bending over me, +talking to me gently. Three other men whom I could not see had come +with him; they had risked their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span>lives to come for me under fire. "We +must get him out of this," I heard Art say. In that moment of danger +his thought was not for himself, but for me. I was able to tell them +how to lift me. No women could have been more gentle or tender than +those men, in carrying me back to the trench. Although bullets were +pattering around, they walked at a snail's pace lest the least hurried +movement might jar me and add to my pain. The stretcher bearers had +arrived by the time we reached the trench, and were unrolling bandages +and getting iodine ready. At first there was some difficulty in +getting at the wound. It had bled so freely that the entire back of my +coat was a mass of blood. The men who had carried me looked as if they +had been wounded, so covered with blood were they. The stretcher +bearer's scissors would not work, and Art angrily demanded a sharp +knife, which some one produced. The stretcher bearer ripped up my +clothing, exposing my shoulder, then began patching up my <i>right</i> +shoulder. I cursed him in fraternal trench fashion and told him he was +working on the wrong shoulder; I knew I had been hit in the <i>left</i> +shoulder and tried to explain that I had been turned over since I was +hit. The stretcher <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span>bearer thought I was delirious and continued +working away. I thought he was crazy, and told him so. At last Art +interrupted to say, "Just look at the other shoulder to satisfy him." +They looked, and, as I knew they would, found the hole the bullet had +entered. To get at it they turned me over, and I saw that a crowd had +gathered around to watch the dressing and make remarks about the +amount of blood. I became quite angry at this, and I asked them if +they thought it was a nickel show. This caused them all to laugh so +heartily that even I joined in. This was when I felt almost certain +that I was dying. I can't remember even feeling relieved when they +told me that the bullet had not gone through my heart. The pain I felt +there when I was first hit was caused by the tearing of the nerves +which centered in my heart when the bullet tore across my back from +shoulder to shoulder. Never as long as I live shall I forget the +solicitude of my comrades that morning. The stretcher bearers found +that the roughly constructed trench was too narrow to allow the +stretcher to turn, so they put me in a blanket and started away. +Meanwhile the word had run along the trench that "Gal had copped it." +Idid not know until that morning that I had so many friends. A +little way down the trench I met Sergeant Manson. He was carrying some +sticks of chocolate for distribution among the men. I asked him for a +piece. To do so on the Peninsula was like asking for gold, but he put +it in my mouth with a smile. Hoddinott and Pike, the stretcher +bearers, stopped just where the communication trench began. The doctor +had come up. He asked me where I was hit, and I told him. He examined +the bandages, and told the stretcher bearers to take me along to the +dressing station. Captain Alexander, my company commander, came along, +smiled at me, and wished me good-by. Hoddinott asked me if I wanted a +cigarette, and when I said, "Yes," placed one in my month and lit it +for me. I had never realized until then just how difficult it is to +smoke a cigarette without removing it from your mouth. Poor Stenlake, +who by this time was worn to a shadow, was in the support trench, +waiting with some other sick men, to go to hospital. He came along and +said good-by. A Red Cross man gave me a postcard to be sent to some +organization that would supply me with comforts while I was in +hospital. "You'll eat your Christmas dinner in London, old chap," he +said.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep186" id="imagep186"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep186.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep186.jpg" width="85%" alt="A British battery at work on the Peninsula" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">A British battery at work on the Peninsula<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +</div> + +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span><br /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span>We had to go two miles before the stretcher bearers could exchange the +blanket for the regular stretcher. The trenches were narrow, and on +one side a little ditch had been dug to drain them. The recent wet +weather had made the bottom of the trench very slippery, and every few +minutes one of the bearers would slide sideways and bring up in the +ditch. When he did the blanket swayed with him, and my shoulders +struck against the jagged limestone on the sides. To avoid this as +much as possible the bearers had to proceed very slowly. Those two +miles to me seemed endless. I had now become completely paralyzed, all +control of my muscles was gone, and I slipped about in the blanket. +Every few yards I would ask Hoddinott, "Is it very much farther?" and +every time he would turn around and grin cheerfully, and answer, as +one would answer a little child, "Not very much farther now, Gal."</p> + +<p>At last we emerged into a large wide communication trench, with the +landmarks of which I was familiar. I was suffering severely now, and +was beginning to worry over trifles. Suddenly it <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span>came to me that I +was still a couple of miles from the dressing station, and when we +came out of the communication trench on to open ground that had been +torn up by shrapnel, I was consumed with fear that at any moment I +might be hit by another shell, and might not get aboard the hospital +after all, for by this time my mind had centered on getting into a +clean bed. A dozen different thoughts chased through my mind. I was +grieved to think that in order to get at the wound it had been +necessary to cut the fine great-coat that I had so much wanted to take +home as a souvenir. I asked Hoddinott what they had done with it, and +he told me that part of it was under my head as a pillow, but that it +was so besmeared with blood that it would be thrown away as soon as I +arrived at the dressing station. From thinking of the great-coat, I +remembered that before I went out with the digging party I had taken +off my raincoat and left it near my haversack in the trench, and in +the pocket of it was the little diagram I had drawn of the position of +the sniper I had seen the night before. Again I called for Hoddinott, +and again he came, and answered me patiently and gently. "Yes, he +would tell Art about the little <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span>diagram." Where a fringe of low +bushes bordered the pathway at the end of the open space, Hoddinott +and Pike turned. For the distance of about a city block they carried +the stretcher along a road cut through thick jungle. At the end of it +stood a little post from which drooped a white flag with a red cross. +It was the end of the first stage for the stretcher bearers. A great +wave of loneliness swept over me when I realized that I was to see the +last of the men with whom I had gone through so much. I was almost +crying at the thought of leaving them there. Somehow or other it did +not seem right for me to go. I felt that in some way I was taking an +unfair advantage of them. Hoddinott and Pike slipped the straps from +their shoulders and lowered the stretcher gently. Under the blanket +Hoddinott sought my hand. "Good-by, Gal," he said. "Is there any +message I can take back to Art?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "tell him to keep my raincoat."</p> + +<p>Since the moment I had been hit, I had been afraid of one thing—that +I should break down, and not take my punishment like a man. I was +tensely determined that no matter how much I suffered I would not +whine or cry. In our regiment it had become a tradition that a man +must <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span>smile when he was wounded. One thing more than anything else +kept me firm in my determination. Art Pratt had walked just behind the +blanket until we came to the communication trench. Even then he was +loath to leave me. He could not trust himself to speak when I said, +"Good-by, Art, old pal." He grasped my hand, and holding it walked +along a few feet. Then he dropped my hand gently. There are some +things in life that stand out ineffably sweet and satisfying. For me +such a one was that last moment of farewell to Art. I had always +considered him the most fearless man in a regiment whose name was a +byword for reckless courage. Of all men on the Peninsula I valued his +opinion most. No recommendation for promotion, no award for valor, not +even the coveted V.C., could have been half so sweet as the few words +I heard Art say. With eyes shining, he turned to the man beside him +and said, almost savagely, "By God, he's a brick."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER VIII<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>HOMEWARD BOUND</h4> +<br /> + +<p>As soon as Hoddinott and Pike had left me, two other stretcher bearers +carried me about two hundred yards farther to a rough shelter made of +poles laid across supports composed of sandbags. This was the dressing +station. On top of the poles, sandbags made it impervious to overhead +shelling. On three sides it was closed in, but the side nearest the +beach was open. From where my stretcher was placed I could just catch +a glimpse of the Ægean Sea and of the ships. Men on stretchers were +lined up in rows on the ground. Here and there a man groaned, but most +of the men were gazing at the roof, with set faces. Some who were only +slightly wounded were sitting up on stretchers while Red Cross men +bandaged up their legs or feet. A doctor was working away methodically +and rapidly. A little to the right another shelter housed the men who +were being sent to hospital with <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span>dysentery, enteric, or typhoid. As +soon as I was brought in, the doctor came to me. "I'll do this one +right away," he said to one of his assistants. The assistant stripped +the blanket from me and cut off the portions of the blood-stained +shirt still remaining. As he did so, something dropped on the ground. +The Red Cross man picked it up.</p> + +<p>"Here's the bullet that hit you," he said, putting it beside me on the +stretcher. "It dropped out of your shirt. It just got through you and +stuck in your shirtsleeve."</p> + +<p>"You'd better get him a little bag to keep his things in," said the +doctor.</p> + +<p>The Red Cross man produced a bag, took my pay book, and everything he +found in my pocket, and put them in it, then tied them to the +stretcher. By this time I was ready for the doctor to begin work. That +doctor knew his business. In a very few minutes he had probed and cut +and cleaned the wound, and adjusted a new bandage. The bleeding had +stopped by this time. He asked me the circumstances of being hit. He +told me to grip his hand and squeeze. I tried it with my right hand +but could do nothing; then I tried the left hand and succeeded a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span>little better. The doctor looked grave when I failed to grip with my +right hand, but brightened a little when I gripped with my left. All +the time he talked to me genially. That did me nearly as much good as +the surgical attention he gave me. He was a Canadian, he told me. At +the outbreak of the war he had been taking post-graduate courses at +Cambridge University in England. The University sent several hospital +units to the front, and he had come with this one. He knew Canada and +the States pretty thoroughly.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from?" he asked me.</p> + +<p>"Newfoundland," I told him. "But I live in the United States."</p> + +<p>"What part?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Cambridge, Massachusetts," I told him.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he said, "that's where Harvard University is."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I was a student there when I enlisted."</p> + +<p>The doctor called to a couple of the Red Cross men. "Here's a chap +from Harvard University in Cambridge, over in the United States." The +two Red Cross men came and told me they were students at Cambridge. +They talked to me <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span>for quite a little while. Before they left me to +attend to some more wounded, they made me promise to ask to be sent to +Cambridge, England, to hospital. The University had established a very +large and thoroughly equipped hospital there. All I had to do, they +said, was tell the people that I had been a student at the other +Cambridge, and I should be an honored guest. They persisted in calling +Harvard, Cambridge, and when they went away said that they were +overjoyed to have seen a man from the sister university.</p> + +<p>The doctor came back in a few minutes.</p> + +<p>"How are you feeling now?" he said.</p> + +<p>"I feel pretty well now," I answered, "but it's very close in here +with all these wounded men, and the place smells of chloroform. Can't +I be moved outside?"</p> + +<p>"I'll move you outside if you say so," said the doctor, "but you're +taking a chance. Occasionally a stray shell comes over this way. The +Turks are trying to locate a battery close to this place. Sometimes a +shell bursts prematurely, and drops around here."</p> + +<p>On the Peninsula, officers who gave men leave to go on dangerous +missions salved their <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span>consciences by first warning the men that in +doing it "they were taking a chance." The caution had come to mean +nothing.</p> + +<p>"All right, doctor," I said. "I'll take a chance."</p> + +<p>Two stretcher bearers came, and lifted me outside the shelter, where +the wind blew, fresh and invigorating. Just as they turned, I heard +the old familiar shriek that signaled the coming of a shell. It burst +almost overhead. Most of the missiles it contained dropped on the +other side of the shelter, but a few tiny pieces flew in my direction. +Three of them hit me in the right arm, a fourth landed in my leg.</p> + +<p>"Is anybody hit?" yelled a Red Cross man, whose accent proclaimed him +as an inhabitant of the country north of the Clyde.</p> + +<p>"I've got a couple of splinters," I said.</p> + +<p>I was lifted inside quickly. The Scotchman who put on some bandages on +the little cuts looked at me accusingly.</p> + +<p>"Ye were warned, before ye went," he said. "Ye desairved it. But +then," he added, "ye might hae got it worse. Ye're lucky ye did not +get it in the guts."</p> + +<p>After a little while my arms and back began <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span>to ache violently. Two +Red Cross men came along and moved me to another shelter similar to +the first. This was the clearing station. From here motor ambulances +carried the wounded to the shore. I knew from the burring speech of +the big sergeant in charge that he hailed from Scotland. I asked him +where he came from, and he told me that he came from Inverness.</p> + +<p>"Our regiment trained near there for a while," I said. "They +garrisoned Fort George."</p> + +<p>"Ye'll no' be meanin' the Seaforth Highlanders, laddie," said he.</p> + +<p>"No," I said, "we're Newfoundlanders, the First Newfoundland +Regiment."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ken ye well, noo," he said, gloomily. "Ye're a bad lot; it took +six policemen to arrest one o' your mob. On the Peninsula they call ye +the Never Failing Little Darlings." After that he thawed quite a +little. "I'll look at your wound noo, laddie," he said, after a few +minutes. "Ye're awfu' light, laddie," he said as he raised me. "Puir +laddie," he added, pityingly. "Puir laddie. Ye're stairved. I'll get +ye Queen Mary's ration."</p> + +<p>"What's Queen Mary's ration?" I asked.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span>"'T's Queen Mary's gift to the wounded. I'll get it for ye right +away." He went outside the clearing station and returned in a few +minutes with a cup of warm malted milk. "'T will help ye some till ye +get aboard the hospital ship. Here's the ambulance noo."</p> + +<p>A fleet of motor ambulances swayed over the uneven ground and rolled +up close to the clearing station. The drivers and helpers began +loading the stretchers aboard and one by one started away. Before I +was put into one, the big Scotchman took a large syringe and injected +a strong dose of morphia into my chest.</p> + +<p>"Ye'll find it hard," he said, "bumping over the hill, but ye'll soon +be all right and comfortable."</p> + +<p>"Tell me," I said, "shall I get into a real bed on the ship?"</p> + +<p>He laughed. "Sure ye will, laddie. The best bed ye've had since ye've +been in the airmy. Good luck to ye, laddie."</p> + +<p>Each of the motor ambulances carried four men, two above and two +below. I was put on top, and the door flap pulled over. We jolted and +pitched and swayed. Once we turned short and skidded at a curve. I +knew just the very <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span>place, although it was dark in the ambulance. I +had gone over the road often with ration parties. Fortunately the +morphia was beginning to take effect, and dulled the pain to some +extent. At last the ambulance stopped, somebody pulled the curtain +back, and we were lifted out. We were on West Beach. A pier ran out +into the sea. A man-o'-war launch towing a string of boats glided in +near enough to let her first boat come close to the pier. The breeze +was quite fresh, and made me shiver. The stretchers were laid across +the boats, close to each other. Soon all the boats were filled. I +could see the man on the stretcher to the right of me, but the one on +the other side I could not see. I tried to turn my head but could not. +The eyes of the man next me were large with pain. I smiled at him, but +instead of smiling back at me, his lip curled resentfully, and he +turned over on his side so that he could face away from me. As he did, +the blanket slipped from his shoulder, and I saw on his shoulder strap +the star of a second lieutenant. I had committed the unpardonable sin. +I had smiled at an officer as if I had been an equal, forgetting that +he was not made of common clay. Once after that, when he turned his +head, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span>his eyes met mine disdainfully. That time I did not smile. I +have often laughed at the incident since, but there on that boat I was +boiling with rage. Not a word had passed between us, but his +expression in turning away had been eloquent. I cursed him and the +system that produced him, and swore that never again would I put on a +uniform. Gradually I calmed down; the morphia had got in its work. In +a little while I had sunk into a comatose condition. I remember, in a +hazy sort of way, being taken aboard a large lighter. There were tiers +of stretchers on both sides. This time I was in the lower tier, and +was wondering how soon the man above me would fall on me. At last I +went to sleep. When I awoke, I was alone and in mid-air. All about me +was black. By that time I was completely paralyzed from the waist up. +I could see only directly above my head. It was night, and the sky was +dotted with twinkling stars. I could feel no movement, but the stars +came slowly nearer and nearer. "What was I doing here in mid-air?" +Subconsciously I thought of the body of Mohammed, suspended between +earth and heaven. Now I felt I had hit on the answer. I was going to +heaven, and the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span>thought was very comforting. Suddenly the stars +stopped, and after a pause began receding. A face appeared above me, +then the head and shoulders of a man dressed in the uniform of a naval +officer. This suggested something else to me. The officers of the +Flying Corps wear naval uniforms. I decided that while I was asleep I +had been transferred to the Flying Corps.</p> + +<p>"Hello, old chap," said the naval officer. "Do you know where you +are?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "Am I going to heaven, or have I joined the Flying +Corps?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the officer. "You're on the stretcher being hoisted aboard +the hospital ship."</p> + +<p>Two big, strapping, bronzed sailors approached and lifted the +stretcher on to an elevator; they stepped on and the elevator +descended. We stopped at the end of a short white-walled passageway, +lighted by electricity. The sailors grasped the stretcher as lightly +as if it had been empty, walked along to the end of the passageway +into a ward. It had formerly been a dining saloon. Large square +windows looked out upon the sea, everything was white and clean and +orderly. After the dirt and filth of the Peninsula it was like a +beautiful dream. The sailors lifted <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span>me gently into a bed and stood +there waiting for orders from the nurse. As I looked at them I thought +of our boys standing in the trenches during a bombardment and yelling, +"Come on, the navy," and I murmured, "Come on, the navy;" and then +when I looked at the calm, self-possessed, capable-looking nursing +sister, moving about amongst the wounded, I said, and never had it +meant so much to me, "Good old Britain."</p> + +<p>The string of boats in which I had come was the batch that filled the +quota of the patients of the hospital ship. In about half an hour she +began to move. An orderly came around with meals. The doctor came in +after a little while and began examining the patients. From some part +of the ship not far from where I was came the sound of voices singing +hymns. It was the last touch needed to emphasize the difference +between the hospital ship and the Peninsula. Sunday evening on the +Peninsula had meant no more than any other. The ship moved along so +quietly that she seemed scarcely to stir. The doctor and the nurse +worked noiselessly; over everything hung the spirit of Sabbath calm. +Gallipoli might have been as far away as Mars.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep203" id="imagep203"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep203.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep203.jpg" width="85%" alt="With the French at Seddel Bahr" /></a><br /> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">With the French at Seddel Bahr<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>It must have been about nine o'clock when an <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span>orderly came around +and turned out all the lights except a reading lamp over the desk +where the night sister sat. All that night I could not sleep. About +midnight the night sister gave me a sleeping draught, but it did no +good. I was suffering the most intense pain, but I was so glad to be +away from the dirt of the trenches that I felt nothing else counted. +The next day I was a great deal weaker, and could scarcely talk. When +the doctor came around to dress my wounds, I could only smile at him. +All that day the sister came to my bed at frequent intervals. I was +too weak then to eat. Two or three times she gave me some sort of +broth through a little feeding bowl. In the evening I had sunk into +apathy. The sister sent for the doctor. He came, felt my pulse, took +my temperature, then turned and whispered to the sister. She called an +orderly, and I heard her say, "Bring the screens for this man." The +orderly went away and in a few minutes returned with two screens large +enough to entirely conceal my bed. When the screens had been put in +position, the sister came in, wiped my mouth and forehead, and went +away. On the other side of the screen I heard her speaking softly to +the doctor. The whole <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span>thing seemed to me something entirely apart +from me. I felt that I was watching a scene in a play, and that I +found it of little interest. After about an hour the doctor and the +sister came in again.</p> + +<p>"Feeling all right, old man?" said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said. "Fine."</p> + +<p>"Sister," said the doctor, "give this man anything he wants."</p> + +<p>The sister bent over me. She was a woman between thirty and +thirty-five, of the type that inspires confidence; every word and +movement reflected poise, and there was a calmness and serenity about +her that you knew she could have acquired only as a result of having +seen and eased much human suffering.</p> + +<p>"If there is anything you would care to have, please ask for it, and +if it is at all possible we will get it for you," she said, in a +softly modulated voice, with the slightest suspicion of a drawl; it +was the voice of a cultivated English-woman; after the Peninsula, a +woman's voice was like a tonic.</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said, "I want chicken and wine."</p> + +<p>I had not the slightest desire for chicken and wine just then, but I +felt that I had to ask for <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span>something, and the best I could think of +was chicken and wine. She smiled at me, went away, and in about +fifteen minutes she returned with a little tray. She had brought the +chicken and wine. She had minced up the chicken, and she fed me little +pieces of it with a spoon. In a little cup with a spout she had the +wine. When I had eaten a little of the chicken, she put the spout +between my lips; I had expected some port wine, but when I tasted, it +was champagne. I drank it to the very last drop.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel now?" said the sister.</p> + +<p>"Never felt better," I answered.</p> + +<p>"That's very nice," she said. "I hope you'll get to sleep soon."</p> + +<p>Then she went away, and in a few minutes the night sister came on. She +peeped in at me, smiled, and went away. All that night I looked up at +a tiny spot on the ceiling. In the board directly above my eyes, there +was a curious knot. A little flaw ran across the center of it. It +reminded me of a postman carrying his bag of letters. It seemed to me +that night that I could stand the pain no longer. My back seemed to be +tearing apart, as if a man was pulling on each shoulder, trying to +separate them from the spine. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span>I tried to jump up from the bed but +could not move a muscle. I felt that it would be better to tear my +back apart myself at once and have it over, but when I tried to move +my arms I found them useless. It must have been well into the morning +when the night sister came around again. The doctor was with her. He +had a large syringe in his hand. He said nothing. Neither did I. I +closed my eyes. I wanted to be alone. I felt him open my shirt at the +neck and rub some liquid on my chest. I opened my eyes. He was putting +the needle of the long-syringe into my chest where he had rubbed it +with iodine. The skin was leathery and at first the needle would not +penetrate. At last it went in with a rush. It seemed at least a foot +long. He rubbed another spot, and plunged the needle in a second time. +"We've got to get him asleep," he said to the night sister. "If he's +not asleep in an hour, call me again." Very soon a drowsiness crept +over me. Nothing seemed to matter. I wanted to rest. In a short time I +was asleep. When I woke, it was broad daylight. The day sister was +standing by my bed, smiling. She turned around and beckoned to some +one. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span>The doctor came close to the bed, felt my pulse, took my +temperature again, and smiled. "Quite all right, sister," he said.</p> + +<p>An orderly came in, lifted me up in bed, washed my face and hands, and +brought in a tray with chicken. There was the same little feeding cup. +This time it had port wine in it. The orderly propped me up in bed, +putting cushions carefully behind my back and shoulders. The sister +and the doctor superintended while he was doing it. Lifting a wounded +man is a science. An unskilful person, no matter how well intentioned, +may sometimes do incalculable damage. Putting a strain on the wrong +muscle may undo the work of the doctor. I could see out one of the +large windows now, and I noticed that we were passing a good many +ships, mostly vessels of war. They seemed to increase in number every +few minutes; and by the time I had finished breakfast, we were in the +midst of a forest of funnels and rigging. Soon the engines stopped. +When the doctor came around to dress my back, I asked him where we +were.</p> + +<p>"We're in Alexandria, now," he said. "In an hour's time we'll have +unloaded. You're the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span>last patient to be dressed. We're doing you last +so that you won't have so long to wait before the bandages are +changed."</p> + +<p>"Doctor," I asked, "how long will it be before this wound gets +better?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he said. "It's impossible to tell until you've been +X-rayed. Last night we were certain you were dying, but this morning +you are perfectly normal."</p> + +<p>In a short time the ward filled with men from the shore, landing +officers, orderlies with messages, sergeants in charge of ambulance +corps, and an army of stretcher bearers. The orderlies of the hospital +ship began putting out the kits of the wounded at the foot of their +beds. The disembarkation began as soon as the doctor had completed his +dressing. I was propped up in bed, and could see a long line of motor +ambulances on the pier. The less seriously wounded cases were taken +off first. The sister told me that these were going by train to Cairo. +Those who could not stand the train journey were going to different +hospitals in Alexandria. I was to go to Alexandria, she said. A +middle-aged man passed us on a stretcher. He was hit in the leg, and +sat on the stretcher, smiling contentedly, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span>and looking about him +interestedly. When he saw the sister, his eyes lighted up.</p> + +<p>"Good-by, sister," he shouted. "I'll see you again, the next time I'm +wounded."</p> + +<p>The sister returned his good-by. Then she turned to me, and said: +"That man was on the hospital train that left Antwerp the day the +Germans shelled it in 1914. When he came in the other night I didn't +recognize him, but he remembered me."</p> + +<p>While I waited for my turn the sister told me that she had been in the +first batch of nurses to cross the Channel at the beginning of the +war. She had been in the hospitals in Belgium that were shelled by the +Germans. At eight o'clock in the morning she had left Antwerp on the +last hospital train, and at nine o'clock the Germans occupied the +town. She had been on different hospital ships and trains ever since. +Once only had she had a rest. That was some time in the summer of +1915. She expected a week off in London at Christmas, when the ship +she was now attached to laid up for repairs. The boat I was on, she +said, carried ordinarily seven hundred and fifty wounded. At present +she carried nine hundred. They generally arrived in Suvla Bay <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span>in the +morning, and left that night, filled with wounded. At the time of the +first landing at Anzac an hour after the assault began they left with +twelve hundred wounded Australians. The sisters were sent out from a +central depot in England, and went to the various fronts. When the +stretcher bearers came to take me away, the sister gathered up my +belongings in a little bag, tied it to the stretcher, put a pillow +under my head, and nodded a bright good-by.</p> + +<div class="img"><a name="imagep213" id="imagep213"></a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +<a href="images/imagep213.jpg"> +<img border="0" src="images/imagep213.jpg" width="85%" alt="Where troops landed in Dardanelles" /></a><br /> +<p style="margin-top: .2em; padding-left: 10%;">Photo. by Underwood & Underwood, N.Y.</p> +<p class="cen" style="margin-top: .2em;">Where troops landed in Dardanelles showing Fort Sed-ne-behi battered +to pieces by Allied Fleet<span class="totoi"><a href="#toi">ToList</a></span></p> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +</div> + +<p>The stretcher bearers, two stalwart Australians, took me to the +elevator, across the deck, and out onto the pier. It was now getting +toward evening. A lady stopped the stretcher between the pier and the +ambulance, and handed one of the bearers a little white packet +containing a towel, soap, tooth-brush and tooth-powder. Without +waiting to be thanked she went on to intercept another stretcher. The +stretcher bearer put the package under my pillow. "Ready, Bill," said +one of the bearers with the nasal twang of the Bushman. "Lift away," +said Bill, and they lifted the stretcher up on the top tier of the +ambulance wagon, without stepping up from the ground. They did it with +the same <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span>motion as when two men swing a bag of grain. But it was +not in the least uncomfortable for me. These Australian stretcher +bearers who meet the incoming hospital ships are amazingly strong. +There is an easy gracefulness in the way they swing along with a +stretcher that makes you trust them. I was the last man to go in that +ambulance wagon, and in a few minutes we were whirling smoothly along +good roads amid the familiar smells of Egyptian bazaars. This +ambulance drive was a good deal different from the one on the +Peninsula just after I had been wounded. After about half an hour the +ambulance swerved off the smooth asphalt road onto a gravel road, +slowed down, and ran into a yard. The Australians reappeared, opened +the flaps, and began unloading. We were in the square of a large +hospital. All around us were buildings. A fine-looking, bronzed man, +with the uniform of a colonel, was directing some Sikhs who were +carrying the stretchers from the ambulances into the different +buildings. All the stretchers were lying on the ground in a long row. +As soon as each one was inspected by the colonel, he told the +stretcher bearers where to take it. When he came to mine, he said, +"Dangerously wounded, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span>Ward three." Then, to the stretcher bearers, +"Careful, very careful."</p> + +<p>Ward three was a long ward with stone floor and plaster walls; it +contained about fifty beds. More than half of the beds had little +"cradles" at the foot; when I came to know hospitals, I learned that +these were to prevent the bedclothes from irritating wounded legs. In +a few minutes a doctor came around, gave orders, and the night sister +began bandaging up the wounds of the men who had come in. The sister +who arranged my bandages was Scotch, and the burr of her speech was +pleasant in my ears. She came back about ten o'clock and gave me a +sleeping potion. The change from the hospital ship must have been too +much excitement for me, because I could not get asleep that night. But +I did not feel as I had felt on the hospital ship. I have very seldom +experienced such joy as I did that night when I found that I could +move my head. I did it very slowly, and with great pain, and rested a +long time before I tried to turn it back again. The door was right +opposite my bed. I could see the sand shining white in the moonlight +in the square, and right ahead of me a large marquee where, I found +out later, <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span>some of the convalescent men slept. A man about four beds +away from mine was dying. When I had first come in he had been +groaning at intervals, but now he was silent. About one or two o'clock +an orderly came running softly in rubber-soled shoes to tell the +sister that the man had died. Half an hour later two men with a +particularly long stretcher, appeared in the ward. They stepped +quietly, trying not to disturb the sleepers. I saw them walk along to +the bed of the dead man, and go in behind the screen. After a little +while the ward orderly moved the screens back, and the stretcher +bearers reappeared. Over the burden on the stretcher was draped a +Union Jack. Often after that while I was in Ward three I saw the same +soft-stepping men come in at night and depart silently with the +flag-draped stretcher. Many of the wounded left the ward in that way, +but their places were soon filled by incoming wounded.</p> + +<p>The first morning I was in Ward three the doctor ordered me to be +X-rayed. The X-ray apparatus was in another building. To get to it I +had to pass through the square. The sun was too hot in the morning for +us to cross the square. We therefore skirted it under the shade of +the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span>long portico that runs along the outside of nearly all buildings +in Egypt. In beds outside the building were men with dysentery. At the +corner of the square a plank gangway led to the quarters of the +enteric patients. Just before I reached the X-ray room, a man hailed +me from one of the beds. It was Tom Smythe, a boy I had known since I +was able to walk. All the time I had been on the Peninsula I had not +seen him, nor had I heard any news of him. On the way back from the +X-ray room, the stretcher bearers stopped near his bed while I talked +with him. He had been in the hospital about two weeks, he said, and +hoped to get to England on the next boat. He promised to come to see +me in my ward as soon as he was allowed up. The next day he came, +although he was not supposed to be up, and brought with him a chap +named Varney. Varney had been in the section next mine at Stob's Camp +in Scotland, he told me. Smythe and Varney vied with each other after +that in trying to make me comfortable. To me that has always been the +most remarkable thing about our regiment: their loyalty to a comrade +in trouble. I have known Newfoundlanders to fight with each other, +using every weapon from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span>profanity to tent mallets while in camp; on +the Peninsula I have seen these same men carrying each other's packs, +digging dugouts, and taking the other man's fatigue work. Varney was +very much distressed to see the condition I was in. He knew I was fond +of reading, and searched all over the place for books and magazines. +Once he brought me three American magazines, one <i>Saturday Evening +Post</i> and two <i>Munsey's</i>. They were nearly two years old, but I read +them as eagerly as if they had just been published.</p> + +<p>During the six weeks I was in hospital in Alexandria, I improved +wonderfully. The doctor in charge of the ward took a special interest +in my progress, and seemed to pride himself on having handled the case +successfully. Every day or so he brought in a doctor from some other +ward to show him my wounds and the X-ray plates. He was very careful +and tried in dressing to cause me as little pain as possible. "Poor +old chap," he would say, when he saw me wince, "poor old chap." I +think there was a great deal of psychology in my getting well. In this +Twenty-first General Hospital nothing was omitted that could make one +comfortable. Every morning an orderly washed me. The orderlies were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span>all very considerate, except one. He did not last very long in our +ward. He began washing the patients at four o'clock in the morning. He +always made me think of a hostler washing a carriage. When he had +washed my arms he always let them drop in a way that reminded me of +the shafts of a wagon. He was soon replaced by a chap who did not +begin his work until seven. At eight we had breakfast: fruit, cereal, +and eggs. At eleven we had soda water and crackers or sweet biscuits. +At one came dinner: soup, chicken, and vegetables, half a chicken to +each man, with a dessert of pudding or custard. At four we had tea, +with fish, and at eight came supper: cocoa and bread and butter, with +jelly. In the morning visitors came in and brought us the daily +papers. Sisters of the V.A.D.—Voluntary Aid Detachment—came in each +afternoon to relieve the regular nursing sisters. They were mostly +Englishwomen resident in Egypt. Most of their men folks were at one of +the fronts. They read to the men who could not hold books in their +hands, talked to us cheerfully, and wrote letters for us. Some of them +brought us little delicacies: grapes and chocolate. Men in hospital +have no money. Any money they have is <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span>taken away when they arrive and +refunded when they leave. Like most of the rules in the army to-day, +this was made for the old regulars. When the regulars felt they needed +a rest they went into hospital; the only way they could be stopped was +to keep all their money away from them. To-day two million men suffer +as a result. Ever since the day I left the Peninsula I had wanted +chocolate. But I had no money, and for a long time I had to go without +it. At last young Varney got me some. He had gone errands for a +wounded Australian, who had been given some money from outside, and +the Australian had given him some; he could hardly wait to get to me +with it.</p> + +<p>As soon as a man was sufficiently recovered to travel, he was sent to +England. New men were always coming in to take the places of the old. +A lot of them were Australians. I kept asking them all as they came in +if they could tell me anything of my friend White George. Of course a +nickname is very little to go on. A man who was White George in one +part of the trench might be Queensland Harry in another. All I knew +about him was that he was in the Fifteenth Battalion, and that he had +a beard. At last a <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span>chap did come in one evening from the Fifteenth +Battalion. I was in bed at the time, and could not get a chance to ask +him about White George. The next day the poor chap was writhing and +screaming in the terrible spasms of tetanus, and for two days the +screens were around his bed. On the third day he was better. As soon +as Varney came in, he wheeled me up to the Australian's bed. I asked +him what was the matter with him, and he told me that he had a flesh +wound in the head that didn't bother him, but that his left leg was +off at the knee.</p> + +<p>"Are you from the Fifteenth Battalion?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said.</p> + +<p>"Do you know a chap in that battalion," I said, "that they call White +George?"</p> + +<p>The wounded Australian looked at me in a quizzical way. Then he +drawled slowly, "Well, I think I do. Why, damn it, man, I'm White +George."</p> + +<p>Then he recognized me. "Why, it's the Newfoundland Corporal. Hello, +Corporal. You're just the man I wanted to see," he said. "I stood on +that bomb all right, and got away with it—once. When I tried it a +second time, I put <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span>the bomb on the firing platform, and when I +stepped on it, my head was over the parapet; Johnny Turk got me in the +head, and the bomb did the rest."</p> + +<p>"Don't you wish now you hadn't tried the experiment?" I said.</p> + +<p>"No," said White George, "I feel perfectly satisfied."</p> + +<p>"By the way," I said, as I was leaving him, "why do they call you +White George? Your hair is dark."</p> + +<p>"My real name," he said, "is George White, but on the regimental roll +it reads 'White, George.'"</p> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a><hr /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span><br /> + +<h3>CHAPTER IX<span class="totoc"><a href="#toc">ToC</a></span></h3> + +<h4>"FEENISH"</h4> +<br /> + +<p>It must have been about the sixth week that I was in Egypt that one of +the Australians came over to my bed and told me that my name was on +the list of men to go to England by the next boat. I was allowed up +for two hours in the afternoon; and when I got up I looked at the +list, and found my name there. An orderly from the stores came in and +asked me for a list of clothing I needed. He came back in about an +hour with a complete uniform and kit. The sister told me that I was to +go to England the next morning. At ten o'clock the next day I was +taken out to the little clearing station in the square, and put in +with a lot of other men on stretchers. An officer came around and +inspected our kits. A little later a sergeant from the pay office gave +each man an advance of twelve shillings. After that the loading began. +A line of about twenty ambulances filed out of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span>the yard and through +the malodorous byways of Alexandria to the waterfront. Here we were +put aboard the hospital ship <i>Rewa</i>, an old rocky tub that had been an +Indian troopship before the war. I learned this from an old English +regular in the stretcher next me. He had seen her often before, and +had made a trip from England to India in her once. The <i>Rewa</i> was so +full of men that the latest arrivals had to go on deck in hammocks. +The thought of a trip across the Bay of Biscay as deck passenger on +the <i>Rewa</i> was not very attractive, but our fears on this point were +soon allayed by one of the ship's officers. We were not going to +England on the <i>Rewa</i>, he said. We were going to Lemnos Island, and in +Mudros Bay we should transship into the <i>Aquitania</i>. When we had +cleared Alexandria Harbor, the wind had freshened considerably. All +that night and the next day we pitched and rolled heavily. The second +night, when we had expected to reach Mudros Bay, we were still +twenty-four hours away from it. Canvas sheets had to be rigged above +the bulwarks to prevent the spray from drenching the men in the +stretchers on deck. The next day a good many men were sea sick, and it +was not till the next evening that the storm <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span>abated. Even then it was +too rough to get close to the big ship. We did try to get near her +once, and succeeded in getting one hawser fast, but the wind and tide +drove us so hard against her, that the captain of the <i>Aquitania</i> +would take no more risks and ordered us off. We had to lay to all that +evening, and the next morning. At noon the wind died down enough to +begin the transshipment from the smaller ships. We waited while seven +other hospital ships transferred their human freight, and then moved +up near enough to put gangways between the two boats. The change was +effected very expeditiously. We were soon transferred, and settled in +our new quarters. I was in a ward with some Australian troops on the +top deck. Board petitions had been run up from it to the promenade +deck, making a long bright, well ventilated corridor. There was only +one drawback on the <i>Aquitania</i>. The sister in charge of our ward did +not like Colonials, and made it pretty plain. She was rather a +superior person who did not like to dress wounds. We were to make two +stops before we arrived in England, I was told; one at Salonica to +take on some sick, the other at Naples for coal. The Salonica stop +took place at night. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span>We did not go into the harbor; probably it was +not deep enough for the <i>Aquitania</i>. The sick were taken aboard +outside. We came to Naples early one fine Sunday morning. As we went +into the harbor, I could see through the window Mt. Vesuvius, smoking +steadily. We were in Naples at the same time as the big <i>Olympic</i>, and +the <i>Mauretania</i>, the sister ship of the <i>Lusitania</i>. It was the time +that the Germans had protested that the British hospital ships carried +troops to the Dardanelles on the return trip. The neutral consuls in +Naples went aboard the <i>Olympic</i> and <i>Mauretania</i> that Sunday and +investigated. The charge, of course, was unfounded. An Italian general +and his staff came aboard our ship and were shown around the wards. He +was a dapper little man, who gesticulated vehemently and bowed to all +the sisters. The sister who did not like Colonials was speaking to him +when he came through our ward. She was trying to impress him with the +excellent treatment our wounded received. She pointed out each man to +him, in the same way a keeper does at the zoological gardens.</p> + +<p>"They get this every evening," she said, indicating the supper we were +eating. "And what <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span>is this?" she said, looking at some apricot jam on +a saucer on my bed.</p> + +<p>"Apricot jam, sister," I said, then added sweetly, in my best society +fashion, "We get it every evening." I might have told her that I had +had it not only every evening, but every noon and morning while I was +on the Peninsula.</p> + +<p>"And what is this?" she said, pointing to the cup in my hand. "Is it +tea or cocoa?"</p> + +<p>"It's tea," I said. "We get it every evening,—just as if we were +human beings, and not Colonials." After that I think she liked +Colonials even less.</p> + +<p>The Bay of Biscay was just a little rough when we went through it, but +it did not affect the <i>Aquitania</i> very much.</p> + +<p>When the word went around on the day that land had been sighted, every +man that could hobble went on deck to get a first glimpse of England. +We could not see very far because of the thick mist of an English +December. About ten o'clock we were at the entrance to Southampton, +but the tide was out, or the chief engineer was out, so we could not +go up until that evening. That last day was a tedious one. Every one +was eager to get ashore. To most of <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span>the men, England was home; and +after the trenches and the hospitals, home meant much.</p> + +<p>As soon as we landed, a train took us to a place near London. It was +twenty-five miles from the hospital that was our destination. Here we +were met by automobiles that took us to the hospital for +Newfoundlanders at Wandsworth Common, London. There were only half a +dozen of us from Newfoundland. At first the doctor on the <i>Aquitania</i> +persisted in calling us Canadians, and wanted to send us to +Walton-on-Thames. It took us two hours to convince him that +Newfoundland had no connection with Canada. Two automobiles were +enough for our little party. The man who drove me in told me that he +had come a hundred miles to do it. All the automobiles that met the +hospital trains were loaned by people who wanted to do whatever they +could to help the cause. He was a dairy farmer, he said, and gave me +uninteresting statistical information about cows and the amount of +milk he sold in London each day. But apart from that, I enjoyed the +smooth drive over the faultless roads.</p> + +<p>The Third London hospital at Wandsworth Common is a military hospital; +and although the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span>discipline is strict, everything possible is done +for the comfort of the patients. Concerts are given every few +evenings; almost every afternoon people send around automobiles to +take the wounded men for a drive. Twice a week visitors come in for +three hours in the afternoon. At Wandsworth I stayed only a very few +days. Two days before Christmas I was sent to Esher to the +convalescent home run by the V.A.D. Sisters. Nobody at this hospital +received any remuneration. Esher is in Surrey, not many miles from +London. Even in the winter the weather was pleasant. Here we had a +great deal of liberty, being allowed out all day until six at night. +Only thirty men were in Esher at one time. The hospital contained a +piano, victrola, pool table, and materials for playing all sorts of +games. At Esher one felt like an individual, and not like a cog in a +machine. Paddy Walsh, the corporal, who had hesitated so long about +leaving me on the Peninsula, was at Esher when I arrived. He was +almost well now, he told me, and was looking forward to a furlough. +After his furlough he was going back, he said, in the first draft. "No +forming fours for me, around Scotland," said Walsh, "drilling a bunch +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span>of rookies. I want to get back with the boys."</p> + +<p>After two weeks, Esher closed for repairs. We all went back to the +hospital at Wandsworth. News had just come of the evacuation of the +Peninsula. In the ward I was sent to were half a dozen of our boys. I +asked them what was the trouble, and they told me frozen feet. "Frozen +feet," I said, "in Gallipoli? You're joking." They assured me that +they were not and referred me to their case sheets that hung beside +the beds. Shortly before the evacuation a storm had swept over the +Peninsula. First it had rained for two days, the third day it snowed, +and the next it froze. A torrent of water had poured down the mountain +side, flooding the trenches, and carrying with it blankets, +equipments, rifles, portions of the parapet, and the dead bodies of +men who had been drowned while they were sleeping. The men who were +left had to forsake their trenches and go above ground. Turks and +British alike suffered. The last day of the storm, while some of our +men were waiting on the beach to be taken to the hospital ship, they +told me they saw the bodies of at least two thousand men, frozen to +death. Our regiment stood it perhaps better than any of the others. It +was the sort <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span>of climate they were accustomed to. The Australasians +suffered tremendously. I met one man who had been on the Peninsula +during the evacuation. They had got away with the loss of two men +killed and one wounded for the entire British force. The papers that +day said that the Turks claimed to have driven the entire British army +into the sea, and to have gained an immense amount of booty. The booty +gained, our men said, was bully beef and biscuits. Far from being +driven into the sea, the British got off in two hours without the +Turks suspecting at all; and it was not till the second day after that +the Turks really found out. It had taken a great deal of ingenuity to +devise a scheme that would let the evacuation take place secretly. The +distance from the shore was about four miles. As soon as the troops +knew they were to leave, they ripped up the sand bags on the parapets, +and broke the glass in the periscopes, so they would be useless to the +enemy. Then they attached the broken periscopes to the parapets, so +that the Turks looking over would see the periscopes above the trench, +just as they would any ordinary day at the front. Only one problem +remained unsolved. As soon as the Turks heard the firing <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span>cease +entirely, they would think something was not as it should be. If they +began to investigate before the troops got away, it might mean +annihilation. At first it was planned to leave a small party scattered +through the trenches, but this meant that they would have to be +sacrificed in order to allow their comrades to escape. An Australian +devised a scheme. He took a number of rifles, placed them at different +points along the parapets, and lashed them to it. In each one he put a +cartridge. From the trigger he suspended a bully beef tin, weighted +with sand. This was not quite heavy enough to pull the trigger. On top +of the rifle he placed another tin, filled with water, and pierced a +small hole in the bottom of it. After a while the water, dripping +slowly from the top tin, made the lower one heavy enough to pull the +trigger. Some of the tins were heavier than the others, and the rifles +did not all go off at once. As soon as things were ready, the troops +moved off silently, "Just as if they were going into dugouts," Art +Pratt wrote me. They got aboard the warships waiting for them in the +bay, and went to Mudros and Imbros. The evacuation was facilitated by +the fact that the Salt Lake that had been <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span>dried up when I was there +was swollen high by the rain of the previous weeks. All that night the +firing continued at intervals, and kept up all through the next day. +The Turks, taking the usual cautious survey of the enemy trenches, +saw, as they did every other day, periscopes sticking up over the +parapets and heard the ordinary reports of rifle fire; to them it +looked like what the official reports call a "quiet day on the Eastern +front."</p> + +<p>One other item of news I received that pleased me very greatly. Art +Pratt had taken my place as corporal of the section, and had sent me +word that he had got the sniper who shot me.</p> + +<p>After I had been back in the Wandsworth Common hospital a few days, I +was "boarded." That is, I was sent up to be examined by a board of +doctors. They found me "unfit for further service," and I was sent to +my depot in Scotland for disposal. The next day I was given all my +back pay and took the train for Ayr, Scotland. There I was given my +discharge "in consequence of wounds received in action in Gallipoli." +Major Whitaker, the officer in charge, paused and looked at me, while +he was signing the discharge paper.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span>"I imagine," he said, "you feel rather sorry that you caught that +train, Corporal."</p> + +<p>"What train is that, sir?" I said.</p> + +<p>"The one at Aldershot," he answered, as he completed his signature. I +smiled noncommittally, but did not answer him.</p> + +<p>Looking back now it seems to me that catching that train is one thing +I have never regretted. I was convinced of it that day in Ayr. For a +few weeks past convalescents of the First Battalion had been dribbling +into Ayr. You could tell them by their wan, fever-wasted faces, and by +the little ribbons of claret and white that they wore on the sleeves +of their coats, the claret and white that marked them as the "service +battalion." And there was in their faces, too, the calm, confident +look of men who had hobnobbed with death, and had come away unafraid. +Every one of them had the same tale. "We're tired of the depot +already. They're a new bunch here, and we want to get back with the +crowd we know." There was no talk of patriotism, or duty; all this had +given place to the pride of local achievement. To those men, my little +claret and white ribbon was all the introduction I needed. I was a +member of the First <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span>Battalion. As I hobbled along the main street of +Ayr, a crowd of them bore down on me. A heterogeneous bunch they were, +bored to death with the quietness of the Scottish town, shouting +boisterous greetings long before they reached me. The lot of us took +dinner together and afterwards went in a body to the theater. The +theater proprietor refused unconditionally to take any money from us. +We were "returned wounded," and the best seats in the house were ours. +Four or five of our party had just returned from Edinburgh, where they +had spent their furloughs. They had been received royally. The civic +authorities had made arrangements with the owners of the Royal Hotel +in Edinburgh to put the Newfoundlanders up free of cost during their +stay. The First Battalion had spent their money freely while they were +garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, and the authorities had not forgotten +it.</p> + +<p>I hated to leave those men of the First Battalion, who welcomed me so +heartily. I was glad at the thought of getting back to the States +again; but it was strange to think that I was no longer a soldier, +that my days of fighting were over. An inexpressible sadness came over +me as I bade good-by to them. Some of their names I <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span>do not know, but +they were all my friends. There are others like them in various +hospitals in England and Egypt; and also in a shady, tree-dotted +ravine on the Peninsula of Gallipoli there is a row of graves, where +also are my friends of the First Newfoundland Regiment.</p> + +<p>The men our regiment lost, although they gladly fought a hopeless +fight, have not died in vain. Constantinople has not been taken, and +the Gallipoli campaign is fast becoming a memory, but things our men +did there will not soon be forgotten. The foremost advance on the +Suvla Bay front is Donnelly's Post on Caribou Ridge, made by the +Newfoundlanders. It is called Donnelly's Post because it is here that +Lieutenant Donnelly won his Military Cross. The hitherto unknown ridge +from which the Turkish machine guns poured their concentrated death +into our trenches stands as a monument to the initiative of the +Newfoundlanders. It is now Caribou Ridge as a recognition of the men +who wear the deer's head badge. From Caribou Ridge the Turks could +enfilade parts of our firing line. For weeks they had continued to +pick off our men one by one. You could almost tell when your turn was +coming. I know, because from <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span>Caribou Ridge came the bullet that sent +me off the Peninsula. The machine guns on Caribou Ridge not only swept +part of our trench, but commanded all of the intervening ground. This +ground was almost absolutely devoid of cover. Several attempts had +been made to rush those guns. All these attacks had failed, held up by +the murderous machine-gun fire. Whole companies had essayed the task, +but all had been repulsed, and almost annihilated. It remained for +Lieutenant Donnelly to essay the impossible. Under cover of darkness, +Lieutenant Donnelly, with only eight men, surprised the Turks in the +post that now bears his name. The captured machine gun he turned on +the Turks to repulse constantly launched bomb and rifle attacks. Just +at dusk one evening Donnelly stole out to Caribou Ridge and took the +Turks by storm. They had been accustomed before that to see large +bodies of men swarm over the parapet in broad daylight, and had been +able to wipe them out with machine-gun fire. All that night the Turks +strove to recover their lost ground. The darkness that confused the +enemy was the Newfoundlanders' ally. One of Donnelly's men, Jack +Hynes, crawled away from his companions <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span>to a point about two hundred +yards to the left. All through the night he poured a rapid stream of +fire into the flank of the enemy's attacking party. So steadily did he +keep it up that the Turks were deluded into thinking we had men there +in force. When reinforcements arrived, Donnelly's eight men were +reduced to two. Dawn showed the havoc wrought by the gallant little +group. The ground in front of the post was a shambles of piled up +Turkish corpses. But daylight showed something more to the credit of +the Newfoundlanders than the mere taking of the ridge. It showed Jack +Hynes purposely falling back over exposed ground to draw the enemy's +attention from Sergeant Greene, who was coolly making trip after trip +between the ridge and our lines, carrying a wounded man in his arms +every time until all our wounded were in safety. Hynes and Greene were +each given a Distinguished Conduct Medal. None was ever more nobly +earned.</p> + +<p>The night the First Newfoundland Regiment landed in Suvla Bay there +were about eleven hundred of us. In December when the British forces +evacuated Gallipoli, to our regiment fell the honor of being nominated +to fight the <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span>rearguard action. This is the highest recognition a +regiment can receive; for the duty of a rear guard in a retreat is to +keep the enemy from reaching the main body of troops, even if this +means annihilation for itself. At Lemnos Island the next day when the +roll was called, of the eleven hundred men who landed when I did, only +one hundred and seventy-one answered "Here."</p> + +<p>After the First Newfoundland Regiment left the Peninsula, they went to +Egypt to guard the Suez Canal from the long-expected attack of the +Turks. After they had been rested a little while, they were recruited +up to full fighting strength, again, and were sent to France. In the +recent drive of the Allies against the German positions on the Somme, +the regiment has won for itself fresh laurels. The "Times" +correspondent at British headquarters in France sent the following on +July 13th:</p> + +<p>"The Newfoundlanders were the only overseas troops engaged in these +operations. The story of their heroic part cannot yet be told in full, +but when it is it will make Newfoundland very proud. The battalion was +pushed up as what may be called the third wave in the attack on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span>probably the most formidable section of the whole German front through +an almost overwhelming artillery fire and a cross-ground swept by an +enfilading machine-gun fire from hidden positions. The men behaved +with completely noble steadiness and courage."</p> + +<br /> +<br /> + +<h4>THE END</h4> + +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + +<div class="tr"> +<p class="cen"><a name="TN" id="TN"></a>Typographical errors corrected in text:</p> +<br /> +List of Illustrations: Suddul Bahr replaced with Seddel Bahr<br /> +Page 3: unneccessary replaced with unnecessary<br /> +Page 115: nothng replaced with nothing<br /> +Page 129: "who had been listening to discussion joined in." replaced with "who had been listening to the discussion joined in."<br /> +Page 136: three-o three replaced with three-o-three<br /> +Page 146: guerilla replaced with guerrilla<br /> +Page 171: "some one one" replaced with "some one"<br /> +Page 208: penerate replaced with penetrate<br /> +Page 217: litle replaced with little<br /> +Page 233: parapest replaced with parapets<br /> + +<p>Note that the word 'Turrk' as seen in Irish dialog has been +retained as dialect.</p> +</div> + +<br /> +<hr /> +<br /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Trenching at Gallipoli, by John Gallishaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + +***** This file should be named 35119-h.htm or 35119-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/1/35119/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Trenching at Gallipoli + The personal narrative of a Newfoundlander with the + ill-fated Dardanelles expedition + +Author: John Gallishaw + +Release Date: January 31, 2011 [EBook #35119] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + + + + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + | Transcriber's Note: | + | | + | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has | + | been preserved. | + | | + | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For | + | a complete list, please see the end of this document. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------+ + + * * * * * + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + [Illustration: Dugouts] + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + +THE PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF A +NEWFOUNDLANDER WITH THE ILL-FATED +DARDANELLES EXPEDITION + +BY +JOHN GALLISHAW + +_ILLUSTRATED WITH +PHOTOGRAPHS_ + +[Illustration] + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. +1916 + + + + +Copyright, 1916, by +THE CENTURY CO. + +_Published, October, 1916_ + + + + +TO +PROFESSOR CHARLES TOWNSEND COPELAND + +OF ALL THAT HARVARD HAS GIVEN ME I VALUE MOST +THE FRIENDSHIP AND CONFIDENCE OF "COPEY" + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I GETTING THERE 3 + + II THERE 33 + + III TRENCHES 63 + + IV DUGOUTS 93 + + V WAITING FOR THE WAR TO CEASE 123 + + VI NO MAN'S LAND 141 + + VII WOUNDED 164 + + VIII HOMEWARD BOUND 192 + + IX "FEENISH" 224 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + PAGE + + Dugouts _Frontispiece_ + + Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at Anzac 9 + + Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles 27 + + Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks + in Dardanelles 38 + + Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing beach 47 + + A remarkable view of a landing party in the Dardanelles 57 + + Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, using the + periscope 67 + + First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along parallel + to the Turkish trenches 78 + + Washing day in war-time 95 + + Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at Suvla 114 + + Landing British troops from the transports at the + Dardanelles under protection of the battleships 131 + + Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity 157 + + Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel Bahr + are still in position 175 + + A British battery at work on the Peninsula 186 + + With the French at Seddel Bahr 203 + + Where troops landed in Dardanelles, showing Fort + Sed-ne-behi battered to pieces by Allied Fleet 213 + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + + + +The reader is hereby cautioned against regarding this narrative as in +any way official. + +It is merely a record of the personal experiences of a member of the +First Newfoundland Regiment, but the incidents described all actually +occurred. + + + + +TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI + + + + +CHAPTER I + +GETTING THERE + + +"Great Britain is at War." + +The announcement came to Newfoundland out of a clear sky. Confirming +it, came the news of the assurances of loyalty from the different +colonies, expressed in terms of men and equipment. Newfoundland was +not to be outdone. Her population is a little more than two hundred +thousand, and her isolated position made garrisons unnecessary. Her +only semblance of military training was her city brigades. People +remembered that in the Boer War a handful of Newfoundlanders had +enlisted in Canadian regiments, but never before had there been any +talk of Newfoundland sending a contingent made up entirely of her own +people and representing her as a colony. From the posting of the +first notices bearing the simple message, "Your King and Country Need +You," a motley crowd streamed into the armory in St. John's. The city +brigades, composed mostly of young, beautifully fit athletes from +rowing crews, football and hockey teams, enlisted in a body. Every +train from the interior brought lumbermen, fresh from the mills and +forests, husky, steel-muscled, pugnacious at the most peaceful times, +frankly spoiling for excitement. From the outharbors and fishing +villages came callous-handed fishermen, with backs a little bowed from +straining at the oar, accustomed to a life of danger. Every day there +came to the armory loose-jointed, easy-swinging trappers and woodsmen, +simple-spoken young men, who, in offering their keenness of vision and +sureness of marksmanship, were volunteering their all. + +It was ideal material for soldiers. In two days many more than the +required quota had presented themselves. Only five hundred men could +be prepared in time to cross with the first contingent of Canadians. +Over a thousand men offered. A corps of doctors asked impertinent +questions concerning men's ancestors, inspected teeth, measured and +pounded chests, demanded gymnastic stunts, and finally sorted out the +best for the first contingent. The disappointed ones were consoled by +news of another contingent to follow in six weeks. Some men, turned +down for minor defects, immediately went to hospital, were treated, +and enlisted in the next contingent. + +Seven weeks after the outbreak of war the Newfoundlanders joined the +flotilla containing the first contingent of Canadians. Escorted by +cruisers and air scouts they crossed the Atlantic safely and went +under canvas in the mud and wet of Salisbury Plain, in October, 1914. +To the men from the interior, rain and exposure were nothing new. +Hunting deer in the woods and birds in the marshes means just such +conditions. The others soon became hardened to it. They had about +settled down when they were sent on garrison duty, first to Fort +George in the north of Scotland, and then to Edinburgh Castle. Ten +months of bayonet-fighting, physical drill, and twenty-mile route +marches over Scottish hills molded them into trim, erect, bronzed +soldiers. + +In July of 1915, while the Newfoundlanders were under canvas at Stob's +Camp, about fifty miles from Edinburgh, I was transferred to London +to keep the records of the regiment for the War Office. At any other +time I should have welcomed the appointment. But then it looked like +quitting. The battalion had just received orders to move to Aldershot. +While we were garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, word came of the landing +of the Australians and New Zealanders at Gallipoli. At Ypres, the +Canadians had just then recaptured their guns and made for themselves +a deathless name. The Newfoundlanders felt that as colonials they had +been overlooked. They were not militaristic, and they hated the +ordinary routine of army life, but they wanted to do their share. That +was the spirit all through the regiment. It was the spirit that +possessed them on the long-waited-for day at Aldershot when Kitchener +himself pronounced them "just the men I want for the Dardanelles." + +That day at Aldershot every man was given a chance to go back to +Newfoundland. They had enlisted for one year only, and any man that +wished to could demand to be sent home at the end of the year; and +when Kitchener reviewed them, ten months of that year had gone. With +the chance to go home in his grasp, every man of the first battalion +reenlisted for the duration of the war. And it is on record to their +eternal honor, that during the week preceding their departure from +Aldershot, breaches of discipline were unknown; for over their heads +hung the fear that they would be punished by being kept back from +active service. To break a rule that week carried with it the +suspicion of cowardice. This was the more remarkable, because many of +the men were fishermen, trappers, hunters, and lumbermen, who, until +their enlistment had said "Sir" to no man, and who gloried in the +reputation given them by one inspecting officer as "the most +undisciplined lot he had ever seen." From the day the Canadians left +Salisbury Plain for the trenches of Flanders, the Newfoundlanders had +been obsessed by one idea: they must get to the front. + +I was in London when I heard of the inspection at Aldershot by Lord +Kitchener, and of its results. I had expected to be able to rejoin my +battalion in time to go with them to the Dardanelles; but when I +applied for a transfer, I was told that I should have to stay in +London. I tried to imagine myself explaining it to my friends in No. +11 section who were soon to embark for the Mediterranean. Apart +altogether from that, I had gone through nearly a year of training, +had slept on the ground in wet clothes, had drilled from early morning +till late afternoon, and was perfectly fit. It had been pretty +strenuous training, and I did not want to waste it in an office. + +That evening I applied to the captain in charge of the office for a +pass to Aldershot to bid good-by to my friends in the regiment. He +granted it; and the next morning a train whirled me through pleasant +English country to Aldershot. At the station I met an English Tommy. + +"I suppose you're looking for the Newfoundlanders," he said, glancing +at my shoulder badges. I was still wearing the service uniform I had +worn in camp in Scotland, for I had not been regularly attached to the +office force in London. + +"I'll take you to Wellington Barracks," volunteered the Englishman. +"That's where your lot is." + +We trudged through sand, on to a gravel road, through the main street +of the town of Aldershot, and into an asphalt square, surrounded by +brick buildings, three storied, with iron-railed verandas. Men in +khaki leaned over the veranda rails, smoking and talking. A regiment +was just swinging in through one of the gaps between the lines. + + [Illustration: Lord Kitchener talking to some Australians at + Anzac] + +"Company, at the halt, facing left, form close column of platoons." +Company B of the First Newfoundland Regiment swung into position and +halted in the square just in front of their quarters. "Company, +Dismiss!" Hands smacked smartly on rifle stocks, heels clicked +together, and the men of B Company fell out. A gray-haired, +iron-mustached soldier, indelibly stamped English regular, carrying a +bucket of swill across the square to the dump, stopped to watch them. + +"Wonder who the new lot is?" said he to a comrade lounging near. "I +cawn't place their bloomin' badge." + +"'Aven't you 'eard?" said the other. "Blawsted colonials; Canydians, I +reckon." + +A tall, loose-jointed, sandy-haired youth who approached the two was +unmistakably a colonial; there was a certain ranginess that no amount +of drilling could ever entirely eradicate. + +"Hello, Poppa," he greeted the gray-haired one, who had now resumed +his journey toward the dump. "What will you answer when your children +say, 'Daddy, what part did you play in the great war?'" + +He of the swill bucket spat contemptuously, disdaining to answer. The +sandy-haired youth continued airily across the square and up the +stairs that led to his quarters. I followed him up the stairs and +through a door on which was printed "Thirty-two men," and below, in +chalk, "B Company." We entered a long, bare-looking room, down each +side of which ran rows of iron cots. Equipments were piled neatly on +the beds and on shelves above; two iron-legged, barrack-room tables +and a few benches completed the furniture. At one of the tables sat +two young men. One of them, a massively built young giant, looked up +as the door opened. + +"Hello, Art," he said to my conductor. "You're just the man we want. +Don't you want to join us in a party to go up to London?" + +"No," answered Art; "if you break leave this week, you don't get to +the front." + +The big fellow stretched his massive frame in a capacious yawn. + +"I don't think we'll ever get to the front," he said. "This isn't a +regiment. It's an officers' training corps. They gave out a lot more +stripes to-day, and one fellow got a star--made him a second +lieutenant. You'd think this was the American army; it's nothing but +stars and stripes. Soon 't will be an honor to be a private. The worst +of it is, they'll come along to me and say, 'What's your name and +number?' The only time they ever talk to me is to ask me my name and +number; and when I tell them, they put me on crime for not calling +them 'Sir,' and when I don't they have me up for insolence." + +Art laughed. "Cheer up, old boy," he said; "you'll soon be at the +front, and then you won't have to call anybody 'Sir.'" + +"What's the latest news about the regiment?" I inquired of my +conductor. + +"I suppose you know that the King and Lord Kitchener reviewed us," he +said, "and this afternoon we are to be reviewed once more. It's a +formality. We should leave this evening or to-morrow for the front. I +suppose we'll go to some seaport town and embark there." + +While we were talking a bugle blew. "There's the cook-house bugle," +said Art. "Come along and have some dinner with us." He took some tin +dishes from the shelves above the beds, gave me one, and we joined in +the rush down the stairs and across the square to the cook house. + +In the army, the cook house corresponds to the dining-room of +civilization. B Company cook house was a long, narrow, wooden +building. On each side of a middle aisle that led to the kitchen were +plain wooden tables, each accommodating sixteen men, eight on each +side. When we arrived, the building was full. When you are eating as +the guest of the Government, there is no hostess to reserve for you +the choice portions; therefore it behooves you to come early. In the +army, if you are not there at the beginning of a meal, you go hungry. +Thus are inculcated habits of punctuality. But if you are called and +the meal is not ready, you have your revenge. Two hundred and +sixty-two men of B Company were showing their disapproval of the +cooks' lack of punctuality. Screeches, yells, and cat cries rivaled +the din of stamping feet and the banging of tin dishes. Occasionally +the door of the kitchen swung open and afforded a glimpse of three +sweating cooks and their group of helpers, working frenziedly. +Sometimes the noise stopped long enough to allow some spokesman to +express his opinion of the cooks, and their fitness for their jobs, +with that delightful simplicity and charming candor that made the +language of the First Newfoundland Regiment so refreshing. Loud +applause served the double purpose of encouraging the speakers and +drowning the reply of the incensed cooks. This was a pity, because the +language of an army cook is worth hearing, and very enlightening. Men +who formerly prided themselves on their profanity have listened, +envious and subdued, awed by the originality and scope of a cook's +vocabulary, and thenceforth quit, realizing their own amateurishness. +Occasionally, though, one of the cooks, stung to retort, would appear, +wiping his hands on his overalls, and in a few well-chosen phrases, +cover some of the more recent exploits of the one who had angered him, +or endeavor to clear his own character, always in language brilliant, +fluent, and descriptive. + +But the longest wait must come to an end, and at last the door of the +kitchen swung open and the helpers appeared. Some mysterious mess fund +had been tapped, and that day dinner was particularly good. First came +soup, then a liberal helping of roast beef, with potatoes, tomatoes, +and peas, followed by plum pudding. B Company soon finished. In the +army, dinner is a thing not of ceremony, but of necessity. + +I did not wait for my sandy-haired friend; his name, I gathered, was +Art Pratt. He and a neighbor were adjusting a difference regarding the +ownership of a combination knife, fork, and spoon. I found my way back +to the room marked "Thirty-two men." Just as I entered, I heard the +bugle sound the "half-hour dress." + +All about the room men were busy shining shoes, polishing buttons, +rolling puttees, and adjusting equipments. This took time, and the +half hour for preparation soon passed. In the square below, at the +sound of the "Fall In," eleven hundred men of the first battalion of +the First Newfoundland Regiment sprang briskly to attention. After +their commanding officer had inspected them, the battalion formed into +column of route. As the tail of the column swung through the square, I +joined in. A short march along the Aldershot Road brought us to the +dusty parade ground. Here we were drawn up in review order, to await +the inspecting general. When he arrived, he rode quickly through the +lines, then ordered the men to be formed into a three-sided square. +From the center of this human stadium he addressed them. + +"Men of the First Newfoundland Regiment," said he, "a week ago you +were reviewed by His Majesty the King and by Lord Kitchener. On that +day, Lord Kitchener told you that you were just the men he needed for +the Dardanelles. I have been deputed to tell you that you are to +embark to-night. You have come many miles to help us; and when you +reach the Dardanelles, you will be opposed by the bravest fighters in +the world. It is my duty and my pleasure on behalf of the British +Government and of His Majesty the King to thank you and to wish you +God-speed." + +This was the moment the Newfoundlanders had been waiting for for +nearly a year. From eleven hundred throats broke forth wave upon wave +of cheering. Then came an instant's hush, the bugle band played the +general salute, and the regiment presented arms. Gravely the general +acknowledged the compliment, spurred his horse, and rode rapidly away. +The regiment reformed, marched back to barracks, and dismissed. + +I joined the crowd that pressed around the board on which were posted +the daily orders. My friend Art Pratt was acting as spokesman. + +"A and B Companies leave here at eight this evening," he said. "C and +D Companies an hour later. They march to Aldershot railway station, +and entrain there." + +I left the group around the board and walked over to the office of the +adjutant. He was busy giving instructions about his baggage. + +"Well," he said, "what do you want?" + +"I want to go with the battalion this evening, sir," I said. + +He questioned me; and when he found out all the facts, told me that I +couldn't go. I didn't wait any longer. As I went out the door, I could +just hear him murmur something about my not having the necessary +papers. But I wasn't thinking of papers just then. I was wondering how +I could get away. I vowed that if I could possibly do it I would go +with the battalion. I was passing one of the stairways when I heard +some one yell, "Is that you, Corporal Gallishaw?" I turned. It was Sam +Hiscock, one of my old section. + +"Hello, Sam," I said. "I didn't know where to look for old No. 11 +section. They've all been changed about since they came here." + +"Come up this way," said Sam, and I followed him up the stairs and +into a room occupied by the men of No. 11 section, my old section at +Stob's Camp in Scotland. + +Disconsolately I told them my plight, and disclosed my plan guardedly. +Sam Hiscock, faithful and loyal to his section, voiced the sentiment. +"Come on with old No. 11; we'll look after you. All you have to do is +hang around here, and when we're moving off just fall in with us, and +nobody'll notice then; 't will be dark." + +"The big trouble is," I said, "I have no equipment, no overcoat, no +kit-bag; in fact, no anything." + +"You've got a rain coat," said Pierce Power, "and I've got a belt you +can have." Another offered a piece of shoulder strap, and some one +else volunteered to show me where a pile of equipments were kept in a +room. I followed him out to the room. In the corner a man was sitting +on the floor, smoking. He was the guard over the equipments. He +belonged to an English regiment, and so did the equipments. Sam +Hiscock engaged him in conversation for a few minutes. The topic he +introduced was a timely one: beer. While Hiscock and the guard went to +the canteen to do some research work in beverages, I took his place +guarding the equipments. By the time the two returned I had managed to +acquire a passable looking kit. I spent the rest of the afternoon +going around among my friends and telling them what I proposed to do. +At eight o'clock I joined the crowd that cheered A and B Companies as +they moved away, in charge of the adjutant and the colonel. When the +major called C and D Companies to attention, I fell in with my old +section C Company. The lieutenant in charge of the platoon I was with +saw me, but in the dusk he could not recognize my face. I was thankful +for the convenient darkness; and because it was fear of his invention +that caused it, I blessed the name of Count Zeppelin. + +"Where's your rifle?" asked the lieutenant. + +"Haven't got one, sir," I said. + +The lieutenant called the platoon sergeant. "Sergeant," he snapped, +"get that man a rifle." The sergeant doubled back to the barracks and +returned with a rifle. The lieutenant moved away, and I had just begun +to congratulate myself, when disaster overtook me. The platoon was +numbered off. There was one man too many, and of course I was the man. +The lieutenant did not waste any time in vain controversy. He ordered +me out of his platoon. + +"Where shall I go?" I asked. + +"As far as I am concerned," he answered, "you can go straight to +hell." + +I left his platoon; but when I did, I carried with me the precious +rifle. The sergeant, a thorough man, had been thoughtful enough to +bring with it a bayonet. + +The time had now come to risk everything on one throw. I did. In the +army, all orders from the commanding officer of a regiment are +transmitted through the adjutant. I knew that both the colonel and the +adjutant had gone an hour ago, and could not now be reached. So I +walked up to Captain March, the captain of D Company, saluted, and +told him that I had been ordered to join his company. + +"Ordered by whom?" he asked. + +"By the Adjutant," said I, brazenly. + +"I haven't had any orders about that," said Captain March. + +Just then, Captain O'Brien, who had been my company commander in camp, +came up. I think he must have known what I was trying to do. + +"If the Adjutant said so, it's all right," he said, thus leaving the +burden of proof on me. + +"Go ahead then," said Captain March; "fall in." + +I fell in. We formed up, and swung out of the square and along the +road that led to the station. At intervals, where a street lamp threw +a subdued glare, crowds cheered us; for even Aldershot, clearing house +of fighting forces, had not yet ceased to thrill at the sight of men +leaving for the front. Half an hour after we left the barracks, we +were all safely stowed away in the train, ten men in each of the +compartment coaches. Just as we were pulling out, a soldier went from +coach to coach, shaking hands with all the men. He came to our coach, +put his head in through the window, and shook hands with each man. I +was on the inside. "Good-by, old chap," he said, then gasped in +astonishment. The train was just beginning to move. It was well under +way when he recovered himself. "Gallishaw," he shouted, "you're under +arrest." It was the sergeant-major of the Record Office I had quitted +in London. + +During war time in England, troop trains have the right of way over +all others. All night our train rattled along, with only one stop. +That was at Exeter where we were given a lunch supplied by the +Mayoress and ladies of the town. I spent the night under the seat; for +I thought the sergeant-major might telegraph to have the train +searched for me. Early next morning, we shunted onto a wharf in +Devonport, alongside the converted cruiser _Megantic_. Her sides were +already lined with soldiers; another battalion of eleven hundred men, +the Warwickshire Regiment, was aboard. As soon as our battalion had +detrained, I hid behind some boxes on the pier; and when the last of +the men were walking up the gangplank. I joined them. A steward handed +each man a ticket, bearing the number of his berth. I received one +with the rest. Since I was in uniform, the steward had no way of +telling whether or not I belonged to the Newfoundlanders. + +All that day the _Megantic_ stayed in port, waiting for darkness to +begin the voyage. In the afternoon, we pulled out into the stream; and +at sunset began threading our way between buoys, down the tortuous +channel to the open sea. A couple of wicked-looking destroyers +escorted us out of Devonport; but as soon as we had cleared the +harbor, they steamed up and shot ahead of us. The next morning they +had disappeared. The first night out I ate nothing, but the next day I +managed to secure a ticket to the dining-room. With two battalions on +board, there was no room on the _Megantic_ for drills; the only work +we had was boat drill once a day. Each man was assigned his place in +the lifeboats. At the stern of the ship a big 4.7 gun was mounted; and +at various other points were placed five or six machine guns, in +preparation for a possible submarine attack. In addition, we depended +for escape on our speed of twenty-three to twenty-five knots. + +During the boat drills, I stayed below with the Warwickshire Regiment, +or, as we called them, the Warwicks. This regiment was formed of men +of the regular army, who had been all through the first gruelling part +of the campaign, beginning with the retreat from Mons, to the battle +of the Marne. They were the remnants of "French's contemptible little +army." Every one of them had been wounded so seriously as to be unable +to return to the front. Ordinarily they would have been discharged, +but they were men whose whole lives had been spent in the army. Few of +them were under forty, so they were now being sent to Khartum in the +Sudan, for garrison duty. At night, I came on deck. In the submarine +area ships showed no lights, so I could go around without fear of +discovery. The only people I had to avoid were the officers, and the +caste system of the army kept them to their own part of the ship. The +men I knew would sooner cut their tongues out than inform on me. + +Just before sunset of the third night out, because we passed several +ships, we knew we were approaching land. At nine o'clock, we were +directly opposite the Rock of Gibraltar. After we had left Gibraltar +behind, all precautions were doubled; we were now in the zone of +submarine operations. Ordinarily we steamed along at eighteen or +nineteen knots; but the night before we fetched Malta, we zigzagged +through the darkness, with engines throbbing at top speed, until the +entire ship quivered and shook, and every bolt groaned in protest. +With nearly three thousand lives in his care, our captain ran no +risks. But the night passed without incident. The next day, at noon, +we were safe in one of the fortified harbors of Malta. + +After we left Malta, since I knew I could not then be sent back to +England, I reported myself to the adjutant. He and the colonel were in +the orderly room, as the office of a regiment is called. The +sergeant-major in charge of the orderly room had been taken ill two or +three days before, and the other men had been swamped by the extra +rush of clerical work, incident on the departure of a regiment for the +front. Perhaps this had a good deal to do with the lenient treatment I +received. The adjutant came to the point at once. That is a +characteristic of adjutants. + +"Gallishaw," he said, "do you want to come to work here?" + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"All right," he said; "you're posted to B Company." + +That night, it appeared in orders that "Lance-Corporal Gallishaw has +embarked with the battalion, and is posted to B Company for pay." The +only comment the colonel made on the affair was to say to the +adjutant, "I've often heard of men leaving a ship when she is going on +active service, but I've never heard of men stowing away to get +there." Thus I went to work in the orderly room; and in the orderly +room I stayed until we arrived at Alexandria, Egypt, and entrained +for Cairo. At Heliopolis, on the desert near Cairo, we went into camp. +There I joined my company and drilled with it, and bade good-by to the +orderly room and all its works. + + [Illustration: Scene at Lancashire Landing, Cape Helles] + +We stayed in Egypt only ten days or so to get accustomed to the heat, +and to change our heavy uniforms and hats for the light-weight duck +uniforms and sun helmets, suitable for the climate on the Peninsula of +Gallipoli. The heat at Heliopolis was too intense to permit of our +drilling very much. In the very early morning, before the sun was +really strong, we marched out a mile across the desert, skirmished +about for an hour or so, and returned to camp for breakfast. The rest +of the day we were free. Ordinarily we spent the morning sweltering in +our marquees, saying unprintable and uncomplimentary things about the +Egyptian weather. In the late afternoon and evening, we went to Cairo. +About a mile from where we were camped, a street car line ran into the +city. To get to it we generally rode across the desert on donkeys. +Every afternoon, as soon as we had finished dinner, little native boys +pestered us to hire donkeys. They were the same boys who poked their +heads into our marquees each morning and implored us to buy papers. We +needed no reveille in Egypt. The thing that woke us was a native +yelling "Eengaleesh paper, veera good; veera good, veera nice; fifty +thousand Eengaleesh killed in the Dardanelle; veera good, veera nice." + +About a quarter of a mile across the desert from us was a camp for +convalescent Australians and New Zealanders. As soon as the Australians +found that we were colonials like themselves, they opened their hearts +to us in the breezy way that is characteristically Australian. There is +a Canadian hospital unit in Cairo. One medical school from Ontario +enlisted almost _en masse_. Professors and pupils carry on work and +lectures in Egypt just as they did in Canada. It was not an uncommon +thing to see on a Cairo street a group composed of an Australian, a New +Zealander, a Canadian, and a Newfoundlander. And once we managed to +rake up a South African. The clean-cut, alert-looking, bronzed +Australians, who impressed you as having been raised far from cities, +made a tremendous hit with the Newfoundlanders. One chap who was +returning home minus a leg, gave us a young wallaby that he had +brought with him from Australia. One of our boys had a small donkey, +not much larger than a collie dog, that he bought from a native for a +few shillings. The men vied with each other in feeding the animals. +Some fellows took the kangaroo one evening, and he acquired a taste for +beer. The donkey's taste for the same beverage was already well +developed. After that, the two were the center of convivial gatherings. +The wallaby got drunk faster, but the donkey generally got away with +more beer. When we were certain we were to go to the front, a meeting +was held in our marquee. It was unanimously decided that not a man was +to take a cent with him--everybody was to leave for the front +absolutely broke--"to avoid litigation among our heirs," the spokesman +said. The wallaby and the donkey benefited. The night before we left +the desert camp, they were wined and dined. The next morning, the +kangaroo, bearing unmistakable marks of his debauch, showed up to say +good-by. We were not allowed to take him with us, and he was relegated +to the Zoo in Cairo. The donkey, who had been steadily mixing his +drinks from four o'clock the afternoon before, did not see us go. When +we moved off, he was lying unconscious under one of the transport +wagons. + +Although we took advantage of every opportunity for pleasure, we had +not lost sight of our real object. We were grateful for a chance to +visit the Pyramids, and enjoyed our meeting with the men from the +Antipodes, but Egypt soon palled. The Newfoundlanders' comment was +always the same. "It's some place, but it isn't the front. We came to +fight, not for sightseeing." + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THERE + + +It was with eleven hundred eager spirits that I lined up on a Sunday +evening early in August, 1915, on the deck of a troopship, in Mudros +Harbor, which is the center of the historic island of Lemnos, about +fifty miles from Gallipoli. Around us lay all sorts of ships, from +ocean leviathans to tiny launches and rowboats. There were gray and +black-painted troopers, their rails lined with soldiers, immense +four-funneled men-o'-war, and brightly lighted, white hospital ships, +with their red crosses outlined in electric lights. The landing +officer left us in a little motor boat. We watched him glide slowly +shoreward, where we could faintly discern through the dusk the white +of the tents that were the headquarters for the army at Lemnos. To the +right of the tents, we could see the hospital for wounded Australians +and New Zealanders. A French battleship dipped its flag as it passed, +and our boys sang the Marseillaise. + +A mail that had come that day was being sorted. While we waited, each +man was served with his "iron ration." This consisted of a one-pound +tin of pressed corn beef--the much-hated and much-maligned "bully +beef"--a bag of biscuits, and a small tin that held two tubes of +"Oxo," with tea and sugar in specially constructed air-and-damp-proof +envelopes. This was an emergency ration, to be kept in case of direst +need, and to be used only to ward off actual starvation. After that, +we were given our ammunition, two hundred and fifty rounds to each +man. + +But what brought home to me most the seriousness of our venture was +the solitary sheet of letter paper with its envelope, that was given +to every man, to be used for a parting letter home. For some poor +chaps it was indeed the last letter. Then we went over the side, and +aboard the destroyer that was to take us to Suvla Bay. + +The night had been well chosen for a surprise landing. There was no +moon, but after a little while the stars came out. Away on the port +bow we could see the dusky outline of land; and once, when we were +about half way, an airship soared phantom-like out of the night, +poised over us a short time, then ducked out of sight. At first the +word ran along the line that it was a hostile airship, but a few +inquiries soon reassured us. + +Suddenly we changed our direction. We were near Cape Hellas, which is +the lowest point of the Peninsula of Gallipoli. Under Sir Ian +Hamilton's scheme, it was here that a decoy party was to land to draw +the Turks from Anzac. Simultaneously, an overwhelming force was to +land at Suvla Bay and at Anzac, to make a surprise attack on the +Turks' right flank. Presently, we were going up shore past the wrecked +steamer _River Clyde_, the famous "Ship of Troy," from the side of +which the Australians had issued after the ship had been beached; past +the shore hitherto nameless, but now known as Anzac. Australian, New +Zealand, Army Corps, those five letters stand for; but to those of us +who have been on Gallipoli, they stand for a great deal more: they +represent the achievement of the impossible. They are a glorious +record of sacrifice, reckless devotion, and unselfish courage. To put +each letter there cost the men from Australasia ten thousand of their +best soldiers. + +And so we edged our way along, fearing mines, or, even more +disastrous than mines, discovery by the enemy. From the Australasians +over at Anzac, we could hear desultory rifle fire. Once we heard the +boom of some big guns that seemed almost alongside the ship. Four +hours it took us to go fifty miles, in a destroyer that could make +thirty-two knots easily. By one o'clock, the stars had disappeared, +and for perhaps three quarters of an hour we edged our way through +pitch darkness. We gradually slowed down, until we had almost stopped. +Something scraped along our side. Somebody said it was a floating +mine, but it turned out to be a buoy that had been put there by the +navy to mark the channel. Out of the gloom directly in front some one +hailed, and our people answered. + +"Who have you on board?" we heard the casual English voice say. Then +came the reply from our colonel: + +"Newfoundlanders." + +There was to me something reassuring about that cool, self-contained +voice out of the night. It made me feel that we were being expected +and looked after. + +"Move up those boats," I heard the English voice say, and from right +under our bow a naval launch, with a middy in charge, swerved +alongside. In a little while it, with its string of boats, was +securely fastened. + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Allies landing reinforcements under heavy fire of Turks in + Dardanelles] + +Just before we went into the boats, the adjutant passed me. + +"Well," he said, "you've got your wish. In a few minutes you'll be +ashore. Let me know how you like it when you're there a little while." + +"Yes, sir," I said. But I never had a chance to tell him. The first +shrapnel shell fired at the Newfoundlanders burst near him, and he had +scarcely landed when he was taken off the Peninsula, seriously +wounded. + +In a short time we had all filed into the boats. There was no noise, +no excitement; just now and then a whispered command. I was in a tug +with about twenty others who formed the rear guard. The wind had +freshened considerably, and was now blowing so hard that our unwieldy +tug dared not risk a landing. We came in near enough to watch the +other boats. About twenty yards from shore they grounded. We could see +the boys jump over the side and wade ashore. Through the half darkness +we could barely distinguish them forming up on the beach. Soon they +were lost to sight. + +During the Turkish summer, dawn comes early. We transhipped from our +tug to a lighter. When it grounded on the beach, day was just +breaking. Daylight disclosed a steeply sloping beach, scarred with +ravines. The place where we landed ran between sheer cliffs. A short +distance up the hill we could see our battalion digging themselves in. +To the left I could see the boats of another battalion. Even as I +watched, the enemy's artillery located them. It was the first shell I +had ever heard. It came over the hill close to me, screeching through +the air like an express train going over a bridge at night. Just over +the boat I was watching it exploded. A few of the soldiers slipped +quietly from their seats to the bottom of the boat. At first I did not +realize that anybody had been hit. There was no sign of anything +having happened out of the ordinary, no confusion. As soon as the boat +touched the beach, the wounded men were carried by their mates up the +hill to a temporary dressing station. The first shell was the +beginning of a bombardment. "Beachy Bill," a battery that we were to +become better acquainted with, was in excellent shape. Every few +minutes a shell burst close to us. Shrapnel bullets and fragments of +shell casing forced us to huddle under the baggage for protection. A +little to the left, some Australians were severely punished. Shell +after shell burst among them. A regiment of Sikh troops, mule drivers, +and transport men were caught half way up the beach. Above the din of +falling shrapnel and the shriek of flying shells rose the piercing +scream of wounded mules. The Newfoundlanders did not escape. That +morning "Beachy Bill's" gunners played no favorites. On all sides the +shrapnel came in a shower. Less often a cloud of thick black smoke, +and a hole twenty feet deep showed the landing place of a high +explosive shell. The most amazing thing was the coolness of the men. +The Newfoundlanders might have been practising trench digging in camp +in Scotland. When a man was hit, some one gave him first aid, directed +the stretcher bearers where to find him, and resumed digging. + +About nine, I was told off to go to the beach with one man to guard +the baggage. We picked our way carefully, taking advantage of every +bit of cover. About half way down, we heard the warning shriek of a +shell, and threw ourselves on our faces. Almost instantly we were in +the center of a perfect whirlwind of shells. "Beachy Bill" had just +located a lot of Australians, digging themselves in about fifty yards +away from us. The first few shells fell short, but only the first few. +After that, the Turkish gunners got the range, and the Australians had +to move, followed by the shells. As soon as we were sure that the +danger was over, we continued to the beach, and aboard the lighter +that contained our baggage. We had not had a chance to get any +breakfast before we started, but the sergeant of our platoon had +promised to send a corporal and another man to relieve us in two +hours. About twelve o'clock the sergeant appeared, to tell me to wait +until one o'clock, when I should be relieved. He brought the news that +the adjutant had been wounded seriously in the arm and leg. At the +very beginning of the bombardment, a shell had hit him. About forty of +our men had been hit, the sergeant said, and the regiment was +preparing to change its position. He showed us the new position, and +told us to rejoin there as soon as relieved. + +About a hundred yards to the right of us rose a cliff that prevented +our boat being seen by the enemy. The Turks were devoting their +attention to some boats landing well to the left of us. The officer in +charge of landing was taking advantage of this and had a gang near us +working on dugouts for stores and supplies. Right under the cliffs a +detachment of engineers were building a landing as coolly as if they +were at home. Every fifteen or twenty minutes, to show us that he was +still doing business, "Beachy Bill" sent over a few shells in our +direction. The gunners could not see us, but they wanted to warn us +not to presume too much. As soon as the first shell landed near us, +the officer in charge shouted nonchalantly, "Take cover, everybody." +He waited until he was certain every man had found a hiding place, +then effaced himself. The courage of the officers of the English army +amounts almost to foolhardiness. The men to relieve us did not arrive +at once, as promised. The hot afternoon passed slowly. Each hour was a +repetition of the preceding one. "Beachy Bill" was surpassing himself. +From far out in the bay our warships replied. + +About five o'clock I espied one of the Newfoundland lieutenants a +little way up the beach in charge of a party of twenty men. I +signaled to him and he came down to our boat. The party had come to +unload the baggage. When I asked the lieutenant about being relieved, +he told me that he had sent a corporal and one man down about one +o'clock, and ordered me back to the regiment to report to Lieutenant +Steele. Half way up the beach we found Lieutenant Steele. The corporal +sent down to relieve me, he told me, had been hit by a shell just +after he left his dugout. The man with him had not been heard from. I +went back to the beach, and found the man perched up on top of the +cliff to the right of the lighter. He had been waiting there all the +afternoon for the corporal to join him. + +Having solved the mystery of the failure of the relief party, I +returned to my platoon. Their first stopping place had proved +untenable. All day they had been subjected to a merciless and +devastating shelling, and their first day of war had cost them +sixty-five men. They were now dug in in a new and safer position. They +were only waiting for darkness to advance to reinforce the firing line +that was now about four miles ahead. Since to get to our firing line +we had to cross the dried-up bed of a salt lake, no move could be +made in daylight. That evening we received our ration of rum, and +formed up silently in a long line two deep, beside our dugouts. I fell +in with my section, beside Art Pratt, the sandy-haired chap I had met +in Aldershot. He had been cleaning his rifle that afternoon when a +shell landed right in his dugout, wounded the man next him, knocked +the bolt of the rifle out of his hand, but left him unhurt. He +accepted it as an omen that he would come out all right, and was +grinning delightedly while he confided to me his narrow escape, and +was as happy as a schoolboy at the thought of getting into action. + +Under cover of darkness we moved away silently, until we came to the +border of the Salt Lake. Here we extended, and crossed it in open +order, then through three miles of knee high, prickly underbrush, to +where our division was entrenched. Our orders were to reinforce the +Irish. The Irish sadly needed reinforcing. Some of them had been on +the Peninsula for months. Many of them are still there. From the beach +to the firing line is not over four miles, but it is a ghastly four +miles of graveyard. Everywhere along the route are small wooden +crosses, mute record of advances. Where the crosses are thickest, +there the fighting was fiercest; and where the fighting was fiercest, +there were the Irish. On every cross, besides a man's name and the +date of his death, is the name of his regiment. No other regiments +have so many crosses as the Dublins and the Munsters. And where the +shrapnel flew so fast that bodies mangled beyond hope of identity were +buried in a common grave, there also are the Dublins and the Munsters; +and the cross over them reads, "In Memory of Unknown Comrades." + +The line on the left was held by the Twenty-ninth Division; the +Dublins, the Munsters, the King's Own Scottish Borderers, and the +Newfoundlanders made up the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Newfoundlanders +were reinforcements. From the very first day of the Gallipoli +campaign, the other three regiments had formed part of what General +Sir Ian Hamilton in his report calls "The incomparable Twenty-ninth +Division." When the first landing was made, this division, with the +New Zealanders, penetrated to the top of Achi Baba, the hill that +commanded the Narrows. For forty-eight hours the result was in doubt. +The British attacked with bayonet and bombs, were driven back, and +repeatedly reattacked. The New Zealanders finally succeeded in +reaching the top, followed by the Eighty-eighth Brigade. The Irish +fought on the tracks of a railroad that leads into Constantinople. At +the end of forty-eight hours of attacks and counter attacks, the +position was considered secure. The worn-out soldiers were relieved +and went into dugouts. Then the relieving troops were attacked by an +overwhelming hostile force, and the hill was lost. A battery placed on +that hill could have shelled the Narrows and opened to our ships the +way to Constantinople. The hill was never retaken. When reinforcements +came up it was too late. The reinforcements lost their way. In his +report, General Hamilton attributes our defeat to "fatal inertia." +Just how fatal was that inertia was known only to those who formed +some of the burial parties. + + [Illustration: Troops at the Dardanelles leaving for the landing + beach] + +After the first forty-eight hours we settled down to regular trench +warfare. The routine was four days in the trenches, eight days in rest +dugouts, four days in the trenches again, and so forth, although three +or four months later our ranks were so depleted that we stayed in +eight days and rested only four. We had expected four days' rest +after our first trip to the firing line, but at the end of two days +came word of a determined advance of the enemy. We arrived just in +time to beat it off. Our trenches instead of being at the top were at +the foot of the hill that meant so much to us. + +The ground here was a series of four or five hog-back ridges, about a +hundred yards apart. Behind these towered the hill that was our +objective. From the nearest ridge, about seven hundred yards in front +of us, the Turks had all that day constantly issued in mass formation. +During that attack we were repaid for the havoc wrought by Beachy +Bill. As soon as the Turks topped the crest, they were subjected to a +demoralizing rain of shell from the navy and from our artillery. +Against the hazy blue of the skyline we could see the dark mass +clearly silhouetted. Every few seconds, when a shell landed in the +middle of the approaching columns, the sides of the column would bulge +outward for an instant, then close in again. Meanwhile, every man in +our trenches stood on the firing platform, head and shoulders above +the parapet, with fixed bayonet and loaded rifle, waiting for the +order to begin firing. Still the Turks came on, big, black, +bewhiskered six footers, reforming ranks and filling up their gaps +with fresh men. Now they were only six hundred yards away. But still +there was no order to open fire. It was uncanny. At five hundred yards +our fire was still withheld. When the order came, "At four hundred +yards, rapid fire," everybody was tingling with excitement. Still the +Turks came on, magnificently determined, but it was too desperate a +venture. The chances against them were too great, our artillery and +machine gun fire too destructively accurate. Some few Turks reached +almost to our trenches, only to be stopped by rifle bullets. "Allah! +Allah!" yelled the Turks, as they came on. A sweating, grimly happy +machine gun sergeant was shouting to the Turkish army in general, +"It's not a damn bit of good to yell to Allah now." Our artillery +opened huge gaps in their lines, our machine guns piled them dead in +the ranks where they stood. Our own casualties were very slight; but +of the waves of Turks that surged over the crest all that day, only a +mere shattered remnant ever straggled back to their own lines. + +That was the last big attack the Turks made. From that time on, it +was virtually two armies in a state of siege. That was the first night +the Newfoundlanders went into the trenches as a unit. A and B +Companies held the firing line, C and D were in the support trenches. +Before that, they filled up gaps in the Dublins or in the Munsters, or +in the King's Own Scottish Borderers. These regiments were our tutors. +Mostly they were composed of veterans who had put in years of training +in Egypt or in India. The Irish were jolly, laughing men with a soft +brogue, and an amazing sense of humor. The Scotch were dour, silent +men, who wasted few words. Some of the Scotchmen were young fellows +who had been recruited in Scotland after war broke out. One of these +chaps shared my watch with me the first night. At dark, sentry groups +were formed, three reliefs of two men each; these two men stood with +their heads over the parapet watching for any movement in the no man's +land between the lines; that accounts for the surprisingly large +number of men one sees wounded in the head. The Scottie and I stood +close enough together to carry on a conversation in whispers. It +turned out that he had been training in Scotland at the same camp +where the Newfoundlanders were. He had been on the Peninsula since +April, and was all in from dysentery and lack of food. "Nae meat," was +the laconic way he expressed it. Like every Scotchman since the world +began, he answered to the name of "Mac." He pointed out to me the +position of the enemy trenches. + +"It's just aboot fower hundred yairds," he said, "but you'll no get a +chance to fire; there's wurrkin' pairties oot the nicht." Then as an +afterthought, he added gloomily, "There's no chance of your gettin' +hit either." + +"Why," I asked him in astonishment, "you don't want to get hit, do +you?" + +Mac looking at me pityingly. "Man," he burst out, "when ye're here as +long as I've been here, ye'll be prayin' fer a 'Blighty one.'" + +Blighty is the Tommies' nickname for London, and a "Blighty one" is a +wound that's serious enough to cause your return to London. + +For a few minutes Mac continued looking over the parapet. Without +turning his head, he said to me: "I'll gie ye five poond, if ye'll +shoot me through the airm or the fut." When a Scotchman who is getting +only a shilling a day offers you five pounds, it is for something +very desirable. Before I had a chance to take him up on this handsome +offer, my attention was attracted by the appearance of a light just a +little in front of where Mac had said the enemy trench was located. I +grabbed my gun excitedly. + +"Dinna fire, lad," cautioned Mac. "We have a wurrkin' pairty oot just +in front. Ye would na hit anything if ye did. 'Tis only wastin' +bullets to fire at night." + +For almost an hour I continued to watch the light as it moved about. +It was a party of Turks, Mac explained, seeking their dead for burial. +When I was relieved for a couple of hours' sleep they were still +there. + +Just where I was posted, the trench was traversed; that is, from the +parapet there ran at right angles, for about six feet, a barricade of +sandbags, that formed the upright line of a figure T. The angle made +by this traverse gave some protection from the wind that swept through +the trench. Here I spread my blanket. The night was bitterly cold, and +I shivered for lack of an overcoat. In coming away hurriedly from +London, I did not take an overcoat with me. In Egypt, it had never +occurred to me that I should need one in Gallipoli; and the chance to +get one I had lost. But I was too weary to let even the cold keep me +awake. In a few minutes I was as sound asleep as if I had been far +from all thought of war or trenches. + +It seemed to me that I had just got to sleep when I was awakened by a +hand shaking my shoulder roughly, and by a voice shouting, "Stand to, +laddie." It was Mac. I jumped to my feet, rubbing my eyes. + +"What's the matter?" I asked. + +"Nothing's the matter," said Mac. "Every morning at daybreak ye stand +to airms for an hour." + +I looked along the trench. Every man stood on the firing platform with +his bayonet fixed. Daybreak and just about sunset are the times +attacks are most likely to take place. At those times the greatest +precautions are taken. Dawn was just purpling the range of hills +directly in front when word came, "Day duties commence." Periscopes +were served out, and placed about ten feet apart along the trench. +These are plain oblong tubes of tin, three by six inches, about two +feet high. They contain an arrangement of double mirrors, one at the +top, and one at the bottom. The top mirror slants backward, and +reflects objects in front of it. The one at the bottom slants forward, +and reflects the image caught by the top mirror. In the daytime, by +using a periscope, a sentry can keep his head below the top of the +parapet, while he watches the ground in front. Sometimes, however, a +bullet strikes one of the mirrors, and the splintered glass blinds the +sentry. It is not an uncommon thing to see a man go to the hospital +with his face badly lacerated by periscope glass. + +During the daytime, the men who were not watching worked at different +"fatigues." Parapets had to be fixed up, trenches deepened, drains and +dumps dug, and bomb-proof shelters had to be constructed for the +officers. Every few minutes the Turkish batteries opened fire on us, +but with very poor success. The navy and our land batteries replied, +with what effect we could not tell. Once or twice I put my head up +higher than the parapet. Each time I did, I heard the ping of a +bullet, as it whizzed past my ear. Once a sniper put five at me in +rapid succession. Every one was within a few inches of me, but +fortunately on the outside of the parapet. Just before landing in +Egypt, we had been served out with large white helmets to protect us +from the sun. It did not take us very long to discover that on the +Peninsula of Gallipoli these were veritable death traps. Against the +landscape they loomed as large as tents; they were simply invitations +to the enemy snipers. We soon discarded them for our service caps. The +hot sun of a Turkish summer bored down on us, adding to the torment of +parched throats and tongues. We were suffering very much from lack of +water. The first night we went into the firing line we were issued +about a pint of water for each man. It was a week before we got a +fresh supply. We had not yet had time to get properly organized, and +our only food was hard biscuits, apricot jam, and bully beef; a pretty +good ration under ordinary conditions, but, without water, most +unpalatable. The flies, too, bothered us incessantly. As soon as a man +spread some jam on his biscuits, the flies swarmed upon it, and before +he could get it to his mouth it was black with the pests. + + [Illustration: A remarkable view of a landing party in the + Dardanelles] + +These were not the only drawbacks. Directly in front of our trenches +lay a lot of corpses, Turks who had been killed in the last attack. In +front of the line of about two hundred yards held by B Company there +were six or seven hundred of them. We could not get out to bury them, +nor could we afford to allow the enemy to do so. There they stayed, +and some of the hordes of flies that continually hovered about them, +with every change of wind, swept down into our trenches, carrying to +our food the germs of dysentery, enteric, and all the foul diseases +that threaten men in the tropics. + +After two days of this life, we were relieved and moved back about two +miles to the reserve dugouts for a rest, to get something to eat, and +depopulate our underwear; for the trenches where we slept harbored not +only rats but vermin and all manner of things foul. + +The regiment that relieved us was an English regiment, the Essex. They +were some of "Kitchener's Army." We stood down off the parapet, and +the Englishmen took our places. Then with our entire equipment on our +backs we started our hegira. We had about four miles to go, two down +through the front line trenches, then two more through winding, narrow +communication trenches, almost to the edge of the Salt Lake. Here in +the partial shelter afforded by a small hill were our dugouts. In +Gallipoli there was no attempt at the ambitious dugout one hears of +on the Western front. Our dugouts resembled more nearly than anything +else newly made graves. Usually one sought a large rock and made a +dugout at the foot of it. The soil of the Peninsula lent itself +readily to dugout construction. It is a moist, spongy clay, of the +consistency of thick mortar. A pickax turns up large chunks of it; +these are placed around the sides. A few hours' sun dries out the +moisture, and leaves them as hard and solid as concrete. + +While we had been in the firing line, another regiment had made some +dugouts. There were four rows of them, one for each company. B +Company's were nearest the beach. We filed slowly down the line, until +we came to the end. A dugout was assigned to every two men. I shared +one with a chap named Stenlake. We spread our blankets, put our packs +under our heads, and for the first time for a week, took off our +boots. Before going to sleep, Stenlake and I chatted for a while. When +war broke out, he told me, he had been a missionary in Newfoundland. +He offered as chaplain, and was accepted and given a commission as +captain. Later some difficulty arose. The regiment was made up of +three or four different denominations, about equally divided. Each one +wanted its own chaplain, which was expensive; so they decided to have +no chaplain. Stenlake immediately resigned his commission, and +enlisted as a private. + +Our whisperings were interrupted by a voice from the next dugout. "You +had better get to sleep as soon as you can, boys; you have a hard day +before you, to-morrow." It was Mr. Nunns, the lieutenant in command of +our platoon. Casting aside all caste prejudice, he was sleeping in the +midst of his men, in the first dugout he had found empty. He could +have detailed some men to build him an elaborate dugout, but he +preferred to be with his "boys." The English officers of the old +school claim that this sort of thing hurts discipline. If they had +seen the prompt and cheerful way in which No. 8 platoon obeyed Mr. +Nunns' orders, they would have been enlightened. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +TRENCHES + + +Somebody has said that a change of occupation is a rest. Whoever sent +us into dugouts for a rest, evidently had this definition in mind. +After breakfast the first morning we were ordered out for digging +fatigue just behind the firing line. In this there was one +consolation. We did not have to carry our packs. Each man took his +rifle and either a pick or a shovel. Communication trenches had to be +dug to avoid long tramps through the firing line; and connecting +trenches had to be made between the existing communication trenches. +While we were in dugouts we had eight hours of this work out of every +twenty-four; four hours in the daytime and four at night. + +The second day in dugouts when we came back from our morning's +digging, we found some new arrivals making some dugouts about two +hundred yards behind our lines. They were Territorials, who correspond +to the militia in the United States. "The London Terriers," they +called themselves. Mostly they were young fellows from eighteen to +twenty-two years old. They had landed only that morning and were in +splendid condition, and very eager for the coming of evening when they +were to go to the firing line. The ground they had selected was +sheltered from observation by the little ridge near our line of +dugouts; but some of our men in moving about attracted the attention +of the Turkish artillery observer. Instantly half a dozen shells came +over the ridge, past our line, and bang! right in the midst of the +Londons, working fearful destruction. Every ten or fifteen minutes +after that, the Turks sent over some shells. Some regiments are lucky, +others seem to walk into destruction everywhere they turn. The shells +fired at the Newfoundlanders landed in the Londons. About two minutes' +walk from our dugouts our cooks had built a fire and were preparing +meals. A number of our men passed continually between our line and the +cooks'. Not one of them was even scratched. The only two of the +Londons who ventured there were hit; one fellow was killed instantly, +the other, seriously wounded through the lungs, lay moaning where he +had fallen. It was just dusk, and nobody knew he had been hit until +one of our men, coming down, heard his hoarse whispering request to +"get a doctor, for God's sake get a doctor." While somebody ran for +the doctor, our stretcher bearers responded to the all too familiar +shout, "Stretcher bearers at the double," but by the time they reached +him he was beyond all need of doctor or stretcher bearers. Before the +London Terriers even saw the firing line, they lost over two hundred +men. They simply could not escape the Turkish shells. The enemy had a +habit of sending over one shell, then waiting just a minute or less, +and following it with another. The first shell generally wounded two +or three men; the second one was sent over to catch the stretcher +bearers and the comrades who hastened to aid those who were hit. +Before they had completed their dugouts, the shrapnel caught them in +the open; after they were dug in, it buried them alive. Never did a +regiment leave dugouts with so much joy as did the London Terriers +when they entered the trenches for the first time. Ordinarily a man is +much safer in the firing line than in rest dugouts. Trenches are so +constructed that even when a shell drops right in the traverse where +men are, only half a dozen or so suffer. In open or slightly protected +ground where the dugouts are, the burst of a shrapnel shell covers an +area twenty-five by two hundred yards in extent. + +A shell can be heard coming. Experts claim to identify the caliber of +a gun by the sound the shell makes. Few live long enough to become +such experts. In Gallipoli the average length of life was three weeks. +In dugouts we always ate our meals, such as they were, to the +accompaniment of "Turkish Delight," the Newfoundlanders' name for +shrapnel. We had become accustomed to rifle bullets. When you hear the +zing of a spent bullet or the sharp crack of an explosive, you know it +has passed you. The one that hits you, you never hear. At first we +dodged at the sound of a passing bullet, but soon we came actually to +believe the superstition that a bullet would not hit a man unless it +had on it his regimental number and his name. Then, too, a bullet +leaves a clean wound, and a man hit by it drops out quietly. The +shrapnel makes nasty, jagged, hideous wounds, the horrible +recollection of which lingers for days in the minds of those who see +them. It is little wonder that we preferred the firing line. + + [Illustration: Australians in trench on Gallipoli Peninsula, + using the periscope + Note the different shaped hats worn by the men, five kinds + appearing in the little group] + +Every afternoon from just behind our line of dugouts an aeroplane +buzzed up. At the tremendous height it looked like an immense +blue-bottle fly. We always knew when it was two o'clock. Promptly at +that hour every afternoon it winged its way over us and beyond to the +Turkish trenches. At first the enemy's aeroplanes came out to meet +ours, but a few encounters with our men soon convinced them of the +futility of such attempts. After that, they relied on their artillery. +In the air all around the tiny speck we could see white puffs of smoke +that showed where their shrapnel was exploding. Sometimes those puffs +were perilously close to it; at such times our hearts were in our +mouths. Everybody in the trench craned his neck to see. When our +aeroplane manoeuvered clear, you could hear a sigh of relief from +every man. + +After about the eighth day in dugouts we were ordered back to the +firing line. We had to take over a part of the trench near Anafarta +Village. In this vicinity the Fifth Norfolks, a company formed of men +from the King's estate at Sandringham, had charged into the woods, +about two hundred and fifty strong, and had been completely lost sight +of. This was the most comfortable trench we had yet been in. It had +been taken over from the Turks, and when we faced toward them we had +to build another firing platform. This left their firing platform for +us to sleep on. After the cramped, narrow trenches of the first couple +of weeks, this roomy trench was very pleasant. On both sides of the +trench were some trees that threw a grateful shade in the daytime. +Along the edge grew little bushes that bore luscious blackberries, but +to attempt to get them was courting death. Nevertheless, the +Newfoundlanders secured a good many. Best of all though was the "Block +House Well." For the first time we had a plenitude of water. But by +this time conditions had begun to tell on the men. Each morning more +and more men reported for sick parade. They were beginning to feel the +enervating effect of the climate, and of the lack of water and proper +food. While we were intrenched near the block house, the men were +sickening so fast that in our platoon we had not enough men to form +the sentry groups. The noncommissioned officers had to take their +place on the parapet, and the ordinary work of the noncoms, changing +sentries, waking reliefs, and detailing working parties had to be done +by the commissioned officers. Just about an hour before my turn to +watch, I was suddenly stricken by the fever that lurks on the +Peninsula. In the army, no man is sick unless so pronounced by the +medical officer. Each morning at nine there is a sick parade. A man +taken ill after that has to wait until the next morning, and is +officially fit for duty. My turn came at eleven o'clock at night. The +man I was to relieve was Frank Lind. He went on at nine. When eleven +o'clock came, I was burning up with fever. Lind would not hear of my +being roused to relieve him, but continued on the parapet until one +o'clock, although in that part of the trench snipers had been doing a +lot of execution. Then he rested for a couple of hours and at three +o'clock resumed his place on the parapet for the remainder of the +night. At daybreak he was still there. I slept all through the night, +exhausted by the fever, and it was not till a few days after that some +one else told me what Lind had done. From him I heard no mention of +it. Whenever somebody says that war serves only to bring out the +worst in a man I think of Frank Lind. The fever that had weakened me +so, continued all that day. I reported for sick parade and was given a +day off duty. The next day I was given light duty, and the following +day the fever left me and that night I was fit for duty again, and was +sent out to a detached post about halfway between us and the enemy. +The detached post was an abandoned house about twenty feet square. All +the doors and windows had been torn out, and now it was nothing but +the merest skeleton of a house. We had been there about three hours +when there occurred something most extraordinary and unaccountable. It +was a pitch dark night, and working parties were out from both sides. +Ordinarily there would have been no firing. Suddenly from away on the +right where the Australians were, began the sharp crackling of rapid +fire. A boy pulling a wooden stick along an iron park railing makes +almost the same sound. The crackling swept down the line right past +the trench directly behind us and away on to the left. The Turks, +fearing an attack, replied. Between the two fires we were caught. +There were eight of us in the blockhouse. Only two of us came from No. +8 platoon, Art Pratt, my sandy-haired friend of Aldershot days, and I. +The sergeant in charge was from another platoon. When the rapid fire +began, he became melodramatic. He had the responsibility of seven +other men's lives, and the thing that seemed rather comic to us was +probably very serious to him. There was nothing the matter, though, +with the way in which he handled the situation. There were eight +openings in the house for the missing doors and windows. At each +window he placed a man, and stood at the door himself, then ordered us +to fill our magazines and fix our bayonets. But psychologically he +made a mistake. He turned to me and said, + +"Corporal, we're in a pretty tight place. We may have to sell our +lives dearly. I want every man to stand by me. Will you stand by me?" + +When the thing had started I had just experienced a pleasant tingle of +excitement, but at this view of the situation I felt a little serious. +Before I had a chance to reply Art Pratt relieved the situation by +shouting, + +"Did you say stand by you? I'll stand by this window and I'll bayonet +the first damn Turk I see." + +There was a general laugh and the moment of tension passed. In a few +minutes the exchange of rapid fire died down as suddenly as it had +started. The rest of the night passed uneventfully. Just before +daybreak we returned to our platoons. + +We never found out the reason for the sudden exchange of rapid fire. +Some Australians away on the right had started it. Everybody had +joined in, as the firing ran along the line of trenches. As soon as +the officers began an investigation it was stopped. + +It seems to me that most of the time we were in the blockhouse trench +we spent our nights out between the lines. Most of our work was done +at night. When we wished to advance our line, we sent forward a +platoon of men the desired distance. Every man carried with him three +empty sandbags and his intrenching tool. Temporary protection is +secured at short notice by having every man dig a hole in the ground +that is large and deep enough to allow him to lie flat in it. The +intrenching tool is a miniature pickax, one end of which resembles a +large bladed hoe with a sharpened and tempered edge. The pick end is +used to loosen hard material and to break up large lumps; the other +end is used as a shovel to throw up the dirt. When used in this +fashion the wooden handle is laid aside, the pick end becomes a +handle, and the intrenching tool is used in the same manner as a +trowel. The whole instrument is not over a foot long, and is carried +in the equipment. + +Lying on our stomachs, our rifles close at hand, we dug furiously. +First we loosened up enough earth in front of our heads to fill a +sandbag. This sandbag we placed beside our heads on the side nearest +the enemy. Out in no man's land with bullets from rifle and machine +guns pattering about us, we did fast work. As soon as we had filled +the second and third sandbags we placed them on top of the first. In +Gallipoli every other military necessity was subordinated to +concealment. Often we could complete a trench and occupy it before the +enemy knew of it. In the daytime our aeroplanes kept their aerial +observers from coming out to find any work we had done during the +night. Sometimes while we were digging, the Turks surprised us by +sending up star shells. They burst like rockets high overhead. +Everything was outlined in a strange, uncanny light that gave the +effect of stage fire. At first, when a man saw a star shell, he +dropped flat on his face; but after a good many men had been riddled +by bullets, we saw our mistake. The sudden, blinding glare makes it +impossible to identify objects before the light fades. Star shells +show only movement. The first stir between the lines becomes the +target for both sides. So, after that, even when a man was standing +upright, he simply stood still. + + [Illustration: First line of Allies' trench zigzagging along + parallel to the Turkish trenches which are not thirty yards + distant] + +After the block-house trench, our next move was to a part of the +firing line that I have never been able to identify. It was very close +to the Turks, and in this spot we lost a large number of men. From one +point, a narrow sap or rough trench ran out at right angles very close +to the Turkish position. It may have been twenty-five or thirty yards +away. To hold this sap was very important; if the Turks took it, it +gave them a commanding position. About twenty men were in it all the +time, four or five of them bomb throwers. The men holding this sap at +the time we were there were the Irish, the Dublin Fusiliers or, as +we knew them, the Dubs. The Turks made several attempts to take it, +but were repulsed. When our men were not on sentry duty, several of +them spent their rest hours out in this sap, talking to the Dubs. The +Dubs were interesting talkers. They had been in the thing from the +beginning, and spoke of the landings with laughter and a fierce joy of +slaughter. Most of them had been on the Western front before coming to +Gallipoli. From the Turkish trenches directly in front of this sap, +the enemy signaled the effect of our shots. They used the same signals +that we used in target practice, waving a stick back and forth to +indicate outers, inners, magpies, and bull's-eyes. Whoever did it, had +a sense of humor; because as soon as he became tired, he took down the +stick for an instant, then raised it again and waved it back and forth +derisively, with a large red German sausage on the end of it. This did +not seem to bear out very well the tales that the enemy was slowly +starving to death. Prisoners who surrendered from time to time told us +that at any moment the entire Turkish army might surrender, as they +were very short of food. One thing we did know: the Turks felt the +lack of shoes; out between the lines we found numbers of our dead with +the boots cut off. + +While we were in this place the Turks dug to within ten or twelve +yards of us before they were discovered. One of the Dublins saw them +first. He seized some bombs, and jumped out, shouting, "Look at Johnny +Turrk. Let's bomb him to hell out of it." But Johnny Turk was +obstinate; he stayed where he was in spite of our bombs. One of our +fellows, the big chap whom I had heard at Aldershot complaining about +being asked for his name and number, had crawled into the sap. He made +his way through the smoke and dirt to the end of the sap where only a +few yards separated him from the Turks. In one item of armament the +British beat the Turks. We use bombs that explode three seconds after +they are thrown; the Turks' don't explode for five seconds. The +difference of only two seconds seems slight, but that day in the +sap-head it was of great importance. For a short while the supply of +bombs for our side ran out. The man who was trying to get the cover +off a box of them found difficulty in doing it. The men in the +sap-head were without bombs. Meanwhile the Turks kept up an +uninterrupted throwing of bombs. Most of them landed in the sap. The +big Newfoundlander who had crawled out looking for excitement found +it. As soon as the supply of bombs ran out, instead of getting back +into safety, he stood his ground. The first bomb that came over +dropped close to him. He was swearing softly, and his face was glowing +with pleasure. He bent down coolly, picked up the bomb and threw it +back over the parapet at the Turks who had sent it. With our bombs he +could not have done it, but the extra two seconds were just enough. +Five or six of the bombs came in and were treated in the same way, +before our supply was resumed. A brigade officer, who had come out +into the sap, stood gazing awe-struck at the big Newfoundlander. +Open-mouthed, with monocle in hand, the officer was the picture of +amazement. At last he spoke, with that slow, impersonal English drawl: + +"I say, my man, what is your name and number." + +The look on the Newfoundlander's face was a study. He knew he should +not have come out into that sap, and every time that question had been +shot at him before it had meant a reprimand. At last he shrugged his +shoulders, then with a resigned expression, answered the officer in a +fashion not entirely confined to Newfoundlanders--by asking a +question: "What in hell have I done now?" + +Without a word the officer turned on his heel and left the sap. The +big fellow waited until he felt the officer was well out of sight, +then departed for his proper place in the trench. One of the Dubs +looking after him, said to me: + +"There's a man that would have been recommended for a Distinguished +Conduct Medal if he'd answered that officer right." + +That Irishman was a man of wide experience. + +"I've been seventeen years in the army, and I've been in every war +that England fought in that time," said he, "and I'll tell you now, +the real Distinguished Conduct Medal men and the real V.C. heroes +never get them. They're under the ground." Coming from the man it did, +this expression of opinion was interesting, for he was Cooke, the man +who had been given a Distinguished Conduct Medal for his work on the +Western front. Since coming to the Peninsula he had been acting as a +sharpshooter, and had been recommended for the V.C., the Victoria +Cross, which is the highest reward for valor in the British army. He +was only waiting then, for word to go to London, to get the cross +pinned on by the King. + +"There's one man on this Peninsula," continued Cooke, "who's won the +V.C. fifty times over; that's the donkey-man." + +The man Cooke meant was an Australian, a stretcher-bearer. His real +name was Simpson, but nobody ever called him that. Because he was of +Irish descent, the Australians, who dearly love nicknames, called him +Murphy, or, Moriarty, or Dooley, or whatever Irish name first occurred +to them. More generally, though, he was called the Man with the +Donkey, and by this name he was known all over the Peninsula. In the +early days, the Anzacs had captured some booty from the Turks and in +it were some donkeys. It was in the strenuous time when men lay in all +sorts of inaccessible places, dying and sorely wounded, Simpson in +those days seemed everywhere. As soon as he heard of the capture he +went down, looked appraisingly over the donkeys, and commandeered two +of them. On one donkey he painted F.A. No. 1, and on the other, F.A. +No. 2; F.A. being his abbreviation for Field Ambulance. Day and night +after that Simpson could be seen going about among the wounded, here +giving a man first aid, there loosening the equipment and making +easier the last few minutes for some poor fellow too far gone to need +any medical care. The wounded men who could not walk or limp down to +the dressing station he carried down, one on each of the donkeys and +one on his back or in his arms. He talked to the donkeys as they +plodded slowly along, in a strange mixture of English, Arabic +profanity, and Australian slang. Many an Australian or New Zealander +who has never heard of Simpson remembers gratefully the attentions of +a strangely gentle man who drove before him two small gray donkeys +each of which carried a wounded soldier. In Australia long after this +war is over men will thrill at the mention of the Man with the Donkey. +I agreed with Cooke that this man had won the V.C. fifty times over. + +Cooke was going out that night, he told me, to stay for three or four +days, sniping, between the lines. As soon as he came back he expected +to go to London. + +"Before I go out," he said, "I'll show you a good place where you can +get a shot at Abdul Pasha." + +I followed Cooke out through the sap and up the trench a little way to +where it turned sharply to avoid a large boulder. Just in front of +this boulder was some short, prickly underbrush. Cooke parted the +bushes cautiously with his hand, and motioned me to come closer. I did +and through the opening he pointed out the enemy trench about four +hundred yards away, and about thirty yards in front of it a little +clump of bushes. + +"Just in front of those bushes," said Cooke, "there's a sniper's +dugout. Keep your eyes open to-morrow and you ought to get some of +them." + +I noted the place for the next day, and walked down to the sap with +Cooke. There I shook hands with him, wished him good luck, and +returned to my platoon. + +That night I had to go out on listening patrol between the lines. At +one o'clock my turn came. An Irish sergeant came along the trench for +me to guide me out to the listening post. I went with him a short +distance along the trench, picked up four others, then with a +shoulder from a comrade, we got over the parapet. The listening post +was about a hundred yards away. We had gone only a few yards when we +heard firing coming from that direction, first one shot followed by +twenty or thirty in quick succession, then silence. A man stumbled out +of the darkness immediately in front of us. He was panting and +excited. It was a messenger from the corporal that we were going to +relieve. He had been walking along without the least suspicion of +danger when he had run full tilt into a party of fifteen or sixteen of +the enemy. He had dropped down immediately and yelled to one of his +men to go back to the trench with word. We followed the panting +messenger to the post. The enemy had now disappeared. We opened rapid +fire in the direction in which they had gone. Evidently it was right, +for in a few seconds they returned it, wounding one man. For about +five minutes we kept up firing, with what success we could not tell, +but at any rate we had the satisfaction of driving off a superior +force. Those two hours straining through the darkness were not +particularly pleasant. I did not know what moment or from what +direction the enemy might come, and I knew that if he did come it +would be in force. Apparently the whole thing was unplanned, because +during the remainder of my two hours, although I peered unceasingly in +all directions, I could see nothing, nor could I hear the slightest +sound. Evidently Johnny Turk was willing to let well enough alone. +That night when I returned to the trench I was told that the next +night at dark we were to go into dugouts. + +Ordinarily the thought of dugouts was distasteful, but it seemed years +since I had taken my boots off. Our platoon had lost heavily, mostly +from disease. All the novelty had worn off the trench life. Instead of +six noncoms, there were only three. Each of us was doing the work of +two men. Our ration had been the eternal bully beef, biscuit, and jam. +Our cooks did their best to make it palatable by cooking the beef in +stew with some desiccated vegetables, but these were hard and +tasteless. Most of us had got to the stage where the very sight of jam +made us sick. That night, looking down through the ravine, I saw, +winking and blinking cheerfully, the only light that brightened the +Stygian darkness, the Red Cross of the hospital ships. I have wondered +since if the entrance to heaven is illuminated with an electric Red +Cross. There was not a man in the whole battalion who was really fit. +Most of them had had a touch of one or more of the prevalent diseases. + +Stenlake, the young clergyman, who had been my dugout mate, was +scarcely able to drag himself about the trench. And by this time we +had the weather to contend with. It was nearing the middle of October, +and the rainy season was almost upon us. Occasionally the sky darkened +up to a heavy grayness that seemed to cover everything as with a pall. +Following this came heavy, sudden squalls that swept through the +trenches, drenching everything, and tearing blankets and equipments +with them. Although the sun still continued to bore down unremittingly +in the daytime, the nights had become bitterly cold, and to the +tropical diseases were added rheumatism and pneumonia. On the men from +Newfoundland the climate was especially telling. We had ceased to +wonder at the crowd of men who reported sick each morning, and simply +marveled that the number was not greater. + +All over the Peninsula disease had become epidemic until the clearing +stations and the beaches were choked with sick. The time we should +have been sleeping was spent in digging, but still the men worked +uncomplainingly. Some, too game to quit, would not report to the +doctor, working on courageously until they dropped, although down in +the bay beckoned the Red Cross of the hospital ship, with its +assurance of cleanliness, rest, and safety. By sickness and snipers' +bullets we were losing thirty men a day. Nobody in the front line +trenches or on the shell-swept area behind ever expected to leave the +Peninsula alive. Their one hope was to get off wounded. Every night +men leaving the trenches to bring up rations from the beach shook +hands with their comrades. From every ration party of twenty men we +always counted on losing two. Those who were wounded were looked on as +lucky. The best thing we could wish a man was a "cushy wound," one +that would not prove fatal, or a "Blighty one." But no one wanted to +quit. Men hung on till the last minute. Often it was not till a man +dropped exhausted that we learned from his comrades that he had not +eaten for days. The only men in my platoon who seemed to be nearly fit +were Art Pratt, and a young chap named Hayes. Art seemed to be +enjoying the life thoroughly. He went about the trench, cheerfully, +grinning and whistling, putting heart into the others. Whenever there +was any specially dangerous work to be done, Art always volunteered. +He spent more time out between the lines than in the trench. Whenever +a specially reliable, cool man was needed, Art was selected. Young +Hayes was a small chap who had been in my platoon at Stob's Camp in +Scotland. He had made a record for being absent from parade, and was +always in trouble for minor offenses. I took him in hand and did my +best to keep him out of trouble. Out in the trenches he remembered it, +and followed me around like a shadow. Whenever I was sent in charge of +a fatigue party he always volunteered. The men all did their best to +make the work of the noncoms easy. As a study in the effects of +colonial discipline it would have been enlightening for some of the +English officers. The men called their corporals and sergeants, Jack, +or Bill, or Mac, but there never was the slightest question about +obeying an order. Everybody knew that everybody else was overworked +and underfed, and every man tried to give as little trouble as +possible. Such conduct from the Newfoundlanders was astonishing, as +in training they simply loved to make trouble for the noncoms, and the +most unenviable job in the regiment was that of corporal or sergeant. + +Such were the conditions the next afternoon when we moved from the +firing trench to rest near some dugouts that had been forsaken by the +Royal Scots. They had been relieved, some said, to go to the island of +Imbros, about fifteen miles away, for a rest. At Imbros, rumor said, +you could buy, in the canteen, eggs and butter, and other heavenly +things that we had almost forgotten the taste of. At Imbros, too, you +were free from shell fire, and drilled every day just as you did in +training. It was whispered, too, but scornfully discredited, that +Imbros boasted shower baths, and ovens for the disinfecting of +clothing. Others claimed that the Royal Scots had been withdrawn from +the Peninsula and were going to the Western front. They were the first +regiment to leave of the Twenty-ninth Division. The whole division was +to be withdrawn gradually. The Twenty-ninth was our division, and we +were to go with it to England. We were to winter in Scotland and after +we had been recruited up to full strength were to go to France in the +spring. An examination of the empty dugouts strengthened this belief. +Blankets, rubber sheets, belts, pieces of equipment, and even +overcoats were lying around. In one of the dugouts I found a copy of +the Odyssey, and half a dozen other books. A few dugouts away I came +upon one of our fellows gazing regretfully upon an empty whisky +bottle. As I approached him, I overheard him murmur abstractedly, "My +favorite brand too, my favorite brand." I passed on without +interrupting him. It was too sacred a moment. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +DUGOUTS + + +The afternoon sun poured down steadily on little groups of men +preparing dugouts for habitation. I had a good many details to attend +to before I could look about for a suitable place for a dugout. Men +had to be told off for different fatigues. Men for pick and shovel +work that night were placed in sections so that each group would get +as much sleep as possible. All the available dugouts had been taken up +by the first comers. The location here was particularly well suited +for dugouts. A mule path to the beach ran along the bottom of a narrow +ravine. On one side of the path the ground shelved gradually up till +it merged into a plain, covered with long grass, overgrown and +neglected. On the other side, a ridge sloped up sharply and formed a +natural protection before it also merged into a "gorse" covered +plateau. Small evergreen bushes served the double purpose of hiding +our movements from the enemy and affording some shade from the +broiling sun. At the foot of the ridge we made our line of dugouts. +The angle of the ridge was so steep that an enemy shell could not +possibly drop on our dugouts. A little further away some of A +Company's dugouts were in the danger zone. After much hunting, I found +a likely looking place. It was about seven feet square, and where I +planned to put the head of my dugout a large boulder squatted. It was +so eminently suitable that I wondered that no one else had preempted +it. I took off my equipment, threw my coat on the ground, and began +digging. It was soft ground and gave easily. + +A short distance away, I could see Art Pratt, digging. He was finding +it hard work to make any impression. He saw me, stopped to mop his +brow, and grinned cheerfully. + +"You should take soft ground like this, Art," I yelled. + +"I've gone so far now," said Art, "that it's too late to change," and +we resumed our work. + +After a few more minutes' digging, my pick struck something that felt +like the root of a tree, but I knew there was no tree on that +God-forsaken spot large enough to send out big roots. I +disentangled the pick and dug a little more, only to find the same +obstruction. I took my small intrenching tool, scraped away the dirt I +had dug, and began cleaning away near the base of a big boulder. There +were no roots there, and gradually I worked away from it. I took my +pick again, and at the first blow it stuck. Without trying to +disengage it I began straining at it. In a few seconds it began to +give, and I withdrew it. Clinging to it was part of a Turkish uniform, +from which dangled and rattled the dried-up bones of a skeleton. +Nauseated, I hurriedly filled in the place, and threw myself on the +ground, physically sick. While I was lying there one of our men came +along, searching for a place to bestow himself. He gazed inquiringly +at the ground I had just filled in. + + [Illustration: Washing day in war-time] + +"Is there anybody here?" he asked me, indicating the place with a +pick-ax. + +"Yes," I said, with feeling, "there is." + +"It looks to me," he said, "as if some one began digging and then +found a better place. If he don't come back soon I'll take it." + +For about fifteen minutes he stood there, and I lay regarding him +silently. At last he spoke again. + +"I think I'll go ahead," he said. "Possession is nine points of the +law, and the fellow hasn't been here to claim it." + +"I wouldn't if I were you," I said. "That fellow's been there a hell +of a long while." + +I left him there digging, and crawled away to a safe distance. In a +few minutes he passed me. + +"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, reproachfully. + +"Because half of the company saw me digging there and didn't tell me," +I said. + +I was prospecting around for another place when Art Pratt hailed me. +"Why don't you come with me," he said, "instead of digging another +place?" + +I went to where he was and looked at the dugout. It wasn't very wide, +and I said so. Together we began widening and deepening the dugout, +until it was big enough for the two of us. It was grueling work, but +by supper time it was done. The night before, a fatigue party had gone +down to the beach and hauled up a big field kitchen. Our cooks had +made some tea, and we had been issued some loaves of bread. Art +unrolled a large piece of cloth, with all the pomp and ceremony of a +man unveiling a monument. He did it slowly and carefully. There was a +glitter in his eyes that one associates with an artist exhibiting his +masterpiece. He gave a triumphant switch to the last fold and held +toward me a large piece of fresh juicy steak! + +"Beefsteak!" I gasped. "Sacred beefsteak! Where did you get it?" + +Art leaned toward me mysteriously. "Officers' mess," he whispered. + +"I've got salt and pepper," I said, "but how are you going to cook +it?" + +"I don't know," said Art, "but I'm going up to the field kitchen; +there's some condensed milk that I may be able to get hold of to +spread on our bread." + +While Art was gone, I strolled down the ravine a little way to where +some of the Royal Engineers were quartered. The Royal Engineers are +the men who are looked on in training as a noncombatant force, with +safe jobs. In war-time they do no fighting, but their safe jobs +consist of such harmless work as fixing up barbed wire in front of the +parapet and setting mines under the enemy's trenches. For a rest they +are allowed to conduct parties to listening posts and to give the +lines for advance saps. Sometimes they make loopholes in the parapet, +or bolster up some redoubt that is being shelled to pieces. The Turks +were sending over their compliments just as I came abreast of the +Engineers' lines. One of the engineers was sifting some gravel when +the first shell landed. He dropped the sieve, and turned a back +somersault into some gorse-bushes just behind him. The sieve rolled +down, swayed from side to side, and settled close to my head, in the +depression where I was conscientiously emulating an ostrich. I +gathered it to my bosom tenderly and began crawling away. From behind +a boulder I heard the engineer bemoaning to an officer the loss of his +sieve, and he described in detail how a huge shell had blown it out of +his hands. Joyfully I returned to Art with my prize. + +"What's that for?" said Art. + +"Turn it upside down," I said, "and it's a steak broiler." + +"Where did you get it?" said Art. + +I told him, and related how the engineer had explained it to his +officer. + +Up at the field kitchen a group was standing around. + +"What's the excitement?" I asked Art. + +"Those fellows are a crowd of thieves," answered Art, virtuously. +"They're looking about to see what they can steal. I was up there a +few minutes ago and saw a can of condensed milk lying on the shaft of +the field kitchen. They were watching me too closely to give me a +chance, but you might be able to get away with it." + +The two of us strolled up slowly to where Hebe Wheeler, the creative +artist who did our cooking, was holding forth to a critical audience. + +"It's all very well to talk about giving you things to eat, but I +can't cook pancakes without baking powder. You can't get blood out of +a turnip. I'd give you the stuff if I got it to cook, but I don't get +it, do I, Corporal?" said Hebe, appealing to me. + +I moved over and stood with my back to the shaft on which rested the +tin of condensed milk. + +"No, Hebe," I said, "you don't get the things; and when you do get +them, this crowd steals them on you." + +"By God," said Hebe, "that's got to be put a stop to. I'll report the +next man I find stealing anything from the cookhouse." + +I put my hand cautiously behind my back, until I felt my fingers close +on the tin of milk. "You let me know, Hebe," I said, as I slipped the +tin into the roomy pocket of my riding breeches, "and I'll make out a +crime sheet against the first man whose name you give." I stayed about +ten minutes longer talking to Hebe, and then returned to my dugout. +Art had finished broiling the piece of steak, and we began our supper. +I put my hand in my breeches' pocket to get the milk. Instead of +grasping the tin, my fingers closed on a sticky, gluey mass. The tin +had been opened when I took it and I had it in my pocket upside down. +About half of it had oozed over my pocket. Art was just pouring the +remainder on some bread when some one lifted the rubber sheet and +stuck his head into our dugout. It was the enraged Hebe Wheeler. As +soon as he had missed his precious milk he had made a thorough +investigation of all the dugouts. He looked at Art accusingly. + +"Come in, Hebe," I said pleasantly. "We don't see you very often." + +Hebe paid no attention to my invitation, but glared at Art. + +"I've caught you with the goods on," he said. "Give me back that milk, +or I'll report you to the platoon officer." + +"You can report me to Lord Kitchener if you like," said Art, calmly, +as he drained the can; "but this milk stays right here." + +Hebe disappeared, breathing vengeance. + +After supper that night a crowd sat around the dying embers of one of +the fires. This was one of the first positions we had been in where +there was cover sufficient to warrant fires being lighted. A mail had +been distributed that day, and the men exchanged items of news and +swapped gossip. There were men there from all parts of Newfoundland. +They spoke in at least thirty different accents. Any one who made a +study of it could tell easily from each man's accent the district he +came from. Much of the mail was intimate, and necessitated private +perusal, but much more was of interest to others. It was interesting +to hear a man yell to a friend who came from his same "bay" that +another man had enlisted from Robinson's, making up eighteen of the +nineteen men of fighting age in the place. Sometimes the news was that +"Half has volunteered, and Hed was turned down by the doctor." + +This from some resident of the northern parts where the fog is not, +and where aspirates are of little consequence. This news gives rise +to the opinion that "that's the hend o' Half." This with much +discussion and ominous shaking of the head. Sometimes a friend of the +absent "Half" would tell of Half's exploit of stealing a trolley from +the Reid Newfoundland Railway Company and going twenty miles to see a +girl. Sometimes the hero was a married man. Then it was opined that +his conjugal relations were not happy, and the reason he enlisted was +that "he had heard something." All these opinions and suggestions were +voiced with that beautiful freedom from restraint so characteristic of +the ordinary conversation of the members of our regiment. Much was +made of the arrival of a mail. It did not happen often, and the +letters that came were three or four months old. "As cold waters to a +thirsty soul," says Solomon, "so is good news from a far country." The +Newfoundlanders in that barren, scorched country caught eagerly at +every shred of news from that distant Northern country that they loved +enough to risk their lives for. With such a setting it is little +wonder that the talk was much of home. Behind the persiflage of the +talk there was a poignant longing for those dark, cool forests of +pine where the caribou roam, and the broad-bosomed lakes and rivers +that were the highways for the monsters of the Northern forests on +their journey to the mills. The lumbermen of Notre Dame Bay and Green +Bay told fearsome and wondrous tales of driving and swamping, of +teaming and landing, until one almost heard the blows of the ax, the +"gee" and "haw" of the teamsters, and smelt the pungent odor of +new-cut pine. The Reid Newfoundland Railway, the single narrow gage +road that twists a picturesque trail across the Island, had given +largely of its personnel toward the making of the regiment. Firemen +and engineers, brakemen and conductors, talked reminiscently of forced +runs to catch expresses with freight and accommodation trains. There +is an interesting tale of two drivers who blew their whistles in the +Morse code, and kept up communication with each other, until a girl +learned the code and broke up the friendship. A steamship fireman +contributed his quota with a story of laboring through mountainous +seas against furious tides when the stokers' utmost efforts served +only to keep steamers from losing way. By comparison with the +homeland, Turkey suffered much; and the things they said about +Gallipoli were lamentable. From the gloom on the other side of the +fire a voice chanted softly, "It's a long, long way to Tipperary, It's +a long way to go." Gradually all joined in. After Tipperary, came many +marching songs. "Are we downhearted? NO," with every one booming out +the "No." "Boys in Khaki, Boys in Blue," and at last their own song; +to the tune of "There is a tavern in the town." + + And when those Newfoundlanders start to yell, start to yell, + Oh, Kaiser Bill, you'll wish you were in hell, were in hell; + For they'll hang you high to your Potsdam palace wall, + You're a damn poor Kaiser, after all. + +The singing died down slowly. The talk turned to the trenches and the +chances of victory, and by degrees to personal impressions. + +"I'd like to know," said one chap, "why we all enlisted." + +"When I enlisted," said a man with an accent reminiscent of the +Placentia Bay, "I thought there'd be lots of fun, but with weather +like this, and nothing fit to eat, there's not much poetry or romance +in war any more." + +"Right for you, my son," said another; "your King and Country need +you, but the trouble is to make your King and Country feed you." + +"Don't you wish you were in London now, Gal?" said one chap, turning +to me. "You'd have a nice bed to sleep in, and could eat anywhere you +liked." + +"Well," I said, "enough people tried to persuade me to stop. One +fellow told me that the more brains a man had, the farther away he was +from the firing-line. He'd been to the front too. I think," I added, +"that General Sherman had the right idea." + +"I wish you fellows would shut up and go to sleep," said a querulous +voice from a nearby dugout. + +"You don't know what you're talking about, Gal; General Sherman was an +optimist." + +"It doesn't do any good to talk about it now," said Art Pratt, in a +matter of fact voice. "Some of you enlisted so full of love of country +that there was patriotism running down your chin, and some of you +enlisted because you were disappointed in love, but the most of you +enlisted for love of adventure, and you're getting it." + +Again the querulous subterranean voice interrupted: "Go to sleep, you +fellows--there's none of you knows what you're talking about. There's +only one reason any of us enlisted, and that's pure, low down, +unmitigated ignorance." Amid general laughter the class in applied +psychology broke up, and distributed themselves in their various +dugouts. + +Halfway down to my dugout, I was arrested by the sound of scuffling, +much blowing and puffing, and finally the satisfied grunt that I knew +proceeded from Hebe Wheeler. + +"I've got a spy," he yelled. "Here's a bloody Turk." + +"Turk nothing," said a disgusted voice. "Don't you know a man from +your own company?" + +Hebe relinquished his hold on his captive and subsided, grumbling. The +other arose, shook himself, and went his way, voicing his opinion of +people who built their dugouts flush with the ground. + +"What do you think of the news from the Western front?" said Art, when +I located him. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"The enemy are on the run at the Western front. The British have taken +four lines of German trenches for a distance of over five miles in the +vicinity of Loos. The bulletin board at Brigade headquarters says +that they have captured several large guns, a number of machine guns, +and seventeen thousand unwounded prisoners. If they can keep this up +long enough for the Turks to realize that it is hopeless to expect any +help from that quarter, Abdul Pasha will soon give in." + +We were talking about Abdul Pasha's surrendering when we dropped off +to sleep. We must have been asleep about two hours when the insistent, +crackling sound of rapid fire, momentarily increasing in volume, +brought us to our feet. Away up on the right, where the Australians +were, the sky was a red glare from the flashing of many rifles. +Against this, we could see the occasional flare of different colored +rockets that gave the warships their signals for shelling. Very soon +one of our officers appeared. + +"Stand to arms for the Newfoundlanders," he said. + +"What is it?" I asked. + +"The Australians are advancing," he answered. "We'll go up as +reinforcements if we're needed. Tell your men to put on their +ammunition belts, and have their rifles ready. They needn't put on +their packs; but keep them near them so that they can slip them on if +we get the order to move away." + +I went about among the men of my section, passing along the word. +Everybody was tingling with excitement. Nobody knew just what was +about to happen; but every one thought that whatever it was it would +prove interesting. For about half an hour the rapid fire kept up, then +by degrees died down. + +"Did you see that last rocket?" said a man near me; "that means +they've done it. A red rocket means that the navy is to fire, a green +to continue firing, and a white one means that we've won." + +In a few minutes Mr. Nunns walked toward us. "You can put your +equipments off, and turn in again," he said, "nothing doing to-night." + +"What is all the excitement?" I asked. + +"Oh, it's the Anzacs again," he said; "when they heard of the advance +at Loos, they went over across, and surprised the Turks. They've taken +two lines of trenches. They did it without any orders--just wanted to +celebrate the good news." + +I was awakened the next morning by the sound of a whizz-bang flying +over our dugout. Johnny Turk was sending us his best respects. I shook +Art, who was sleeping heavily. + +"Get up, Art," I said. I might as well have spoken to a stone wall. I +tried again. Putting my mouth to his ear, I shouted, "Stand to, Art. +Stand to." + +Art turned over, sleeping. "I'll stand three if you like, but don't +disturb me," he muttered, and relapsed into coma. + +In a few minutes, two or three more shells came along. They were well +over the ridge behind us, but were landing almost in the midst of +another line of dugouts. I stood gazing at them for a little while. A +man passed me running madly. "Come on," he gasped, "and yell for the +stretcher." I followed him without further question. "It's all right," +he said, slowing up just before we came to the line of dugouts that +had just been shelled. "They've got him all right." We continued +toward a group that crowded about a stretcher. A man was lying on it, +with his head raised on a haversack. He rolled his eyes slowly and +surveyed the group. "What the hell is the matter?" he said dazedly; +then felt himself over gingerly for wounds. Apparently he could find +none. "What hit me?" he asked, appealing to a grinning Red Cross man. + +"Nothing," said the other, "except about a ton of earth. It's a lucky +thing some one saw you. That last shell buried you alive." + +The whistle of a coming shell dispersed the grinning spectators. I +went back to my dugout, and found Art busily toasting some bread over +the sieve that I had commandeered the day before. + +"What was the excitement?" he asked. + +"Charlie Renouf," I said, "was buried alive." + +"Heavens," said Art, "he's the postman; we can't afford to lose him. +That reminds me that I've got to write some letters." + + [Illustration: Cleaning up after coming down from the trenches at + Suvla] + +After we had finished breakfast, Art produced some writing paper and +an indelible pencil. I did not have any writing paper, but I +contributed a supply of service postcards, that bear such meager +information as "I am quite well," "I am sick," "I am wounded," "I am +in hospital and doing well," "I am in hospital and expect to be +discharged soon," "I have not heard from you for a long time," "I have +had no letter from you since ----," "I have your letter of ----," "I +have received your parcel of ----," and a space for the date and the +signature. When a man writes home from the front, he crosses out +all but the sentences he wants read, puts in the date, and adds his +signature. This is the ordinary means of communication. About once a +week a man is allowed to write some letters; but these are censored by +his platoon officer, who seals them, and signs his name as a record of +their having been passed by him. Sometimes the censor at the base +opens a few of them. Perhaps once a fortnight a few privileged +characters are given large blue envelopes, that have printed in the +corner: + + NOTE.-- + + Correspondence in this envelope need not be censored + Regimentally. The contents are liable to examination at the + Base. + + The following Certificate must be signed by the writer: + + _I certify on my honour that the contents of this envelope refer + to nothing but private and family matters._ + + _Signature_ + + (_Name only_) + +While we were writing, the orderly sergeant, that dread of loafers, +who appoints all details for fatigue work, bore down upon our dugout. +"Two men from you, Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "for bomb throwers. +Give me their names as soon as you can. They're for practice this +afternoon." + +"One here, right away," said Art, "and put Lew O'Dea down for the +other." + +Lew O'Dea was a character. He was in the next dugout to me. The first +day on the Peninsula, his rifle had stuck full of sand, and some one +had stolen his tin canteen for cooking food. He immediately formed +himself into an anti-poverty society of one thereafter, and went +around like a walking arsenal. I never saw him with fewer than three +rifles, usually he carried half a dozen. He always kept two or three +of them spotlessly clean; so that no matter when rifle inspection +came, he always had at least one to show. He had been a little late in +getting his rifle clean once and was determined not to be caught any +more. His equipment always contained a varied assortment of canteens, +seven or eight gas masks, and his dugout was luxurious with rubber +sheets and blankets. "I inherited them," he always answered, whenever +anybody questioned him about them. With ammunition for his several +rifles, when he started for the trenches in full marching order, he +carried a load that a mule need by no means have been ashamed of. + +"Do you want to go on bomb throwing detail this afternoon?" I called +to O'Dea across the top of the dugout. + +"Sure," he answered; "does a swim want to duck?" + +"Fine," I said; "report here at two o'clock." + +At two o'clock, accompanied by an officer and a sergeant, we went down +the road a little way to where some Australians were conducting a +class in bomb throwing. A brown-faced chap from Sydney showed me the +difference between bombs that you explode by lighting a match, bombs +that are started by pulling out a plug, and the dinky little +three-second "cricket balls" that explode by pressing a spring. I +asked him about the attack the night before. He told me that they had +been for some time waiting for a chance to make a local advance that +would capture an important redoubt in the Turkish line. Every night at +exactly nine o'clock, the Navy had thrown a searchlight on the part of +the line the Anzacs wanted to capture. For ten minutes they kept up +heavy firing. Then, after a ten minutes' interval of darkness and +suspended firing, they began a second illumination and bombardment, +commencing always at twenty minutes past nine, and ending precisely +at half past. After a little while, the enemy, knowing just the exact +minute the bombardment was to begin, took the first beam of the +searchlight as a hint to clear out. But the night before, a crowd of +eager Australians had crept softly along in the shadow made doubly +dark by the glare of the searchlight, the noise of their advance +covered by the sound of the bombardment. As soon as the bombardment +ceased and the searchlight's beam was succeeded by darkness, they +poured into the Turkish position. They had taken the astonished Turks +completely by surprise. + +"We didn't expect to make the attack for another week," said the +Australian; "but as soon as our boys heard that we were winning in +France, they thought they'd better start something. There hasn't been +any excitement over our way now for a long time," he said. "I'm about +fed up on this waiting around the trenches." He fingered one of the +little cricket-ball bombs caressingly. "Think of it," he said; "all +you do is press that little spring, and three seconds after you're a +casualty." + +"Pressing that little spring," said I, "is my idea of nothing to do, +unless you're a particularly fast sprinter." + +"By the Lord Harry, Newfoundland," said the Australian, with a +peculiar, excited glint in his eye, "that's an inspiration." + +"What's an inspiration?" I asked, in bewilderment. + +The Australian stretched himself on the ground beside me, resting his +chin in his cupped hands. "When I was in Sydney," he said slowly and +thoughtfully, "I did a hundred yards in ten seconds easily. Now if I +can get in a traverse that's only eight or nine yards long, and press +the spring of one of those little cricket balls, I ought to be able to +get out on the other side of the traverse before it explodes." + +Art and Lew O'Dea passed along just then and I jumped up to go with +them. "Don't forget to look for me if you're over around the Fifteenth +Australians," said the Australian. "Ask for White George." + +"I won't forget," I said, as I hurried away to join the others. + +We were about half way to our dugouts when we passed a string of our +men carrying about twenty mail bags. It was the second instalment of a +lot of mail that had been landed the day before. We followed the +sweating carriers up the road to the quarter-master sergeant's +dugout, and waited around humbly while that autocrat leisurely sorted +out the mail, making remarks about each letter and waiting after each +remark for the applause he felt it deserved. With maddening +deliberation he scanned each address. "Corporal W.P. Costello." "He's +at the base," some one answered. Corporal Costello's letter was put +aside. "Private George Butler." Private Butler, on the edge of the +crowd, pushed and elbowed his way toward the quarter-master sergeant. +"Here you are; letter for Butler." The august Q.M.S. placed the letter +beside his elbow. "Wait till the lot's sorted, and you'll get them all +together." Private Butler, with ill-restrained impatience, resumed his +place on the outside. After the letters, the parcels had to be sorted. +Some enterprising person at the base had opened a lot of them. One +fellow received a large box of cigarettes that he would have enjoyed +smoking if the man at the base had not seen them first. Art Pratt drew +a lot of mail, including a parcel, intact except for the contents. A +diligent search in a box a foot square failed to locate anything more +than a pair of socks, which Art presented to me with his compliments. +Some papers, two months old, with some casualty lists of the First +Newfoundland Regiment, had no address; the wrapper had gone before, +somewhere between Newfoundland and the Dardanelles. Everybody claimed +the papers. Various proofs were offered to show the ownership. One +fellow knew by the way they were rolled up that they were from his +family. Another, more original than the rest, was certain they were +his, because he had written for papers of those dates, in order to see +the announcement of the casualty of a friend. It was pointed out +derisively that a letter written after that casualty had occurred +would only then have reached Newfoundland; and to get a lot of papers +in reply would be a physical impossibility. The claimant, in no wise +abashed, suggested that lots be drawn. This was pooh-poohed. At last, +to avoid discussion, the quarter-master sergeant took the papers +himself, and put them in his greatcoat. "I'll distribute them after +I've read them," he announced, and pulled the rubber sheet across the +top of his dugout, as a delicate hint that the interview was finished. +The crowd slowly melted away. I received one letter, and was sitting +on the edge of my dugout reading it when one of our men passing +along, yelled to me. "Hey," he said, "you come from the United States, +don't you?" + +"Yes," I said; "what do you want to know that for?" + +"I've got something here," he said, stopping, "that comes from there +too." He dived into his pocket, and produced a medley of articles. +From these he selected a small paper-wrapped parcel. + +"What's that?" I said. + +"It's chewing gum," he answered; "real American chewing gum like the +girls chew in the subway in New York." He unwrapped it, selected a +piece, placed it in his mouth, and began chewing it with elaborated +enjoyment. After a few minutes, he came nearer. "By golly," he said, +with an exaggerated nasal drawl, "it's good gum, I'll soon begin to +feel like a blooming Yank. I'm talking like a Yank already. Don't you +wish you had some of this?" + +"I'll make you a sporting offer," I answered. "I'll fight you for the +rest of what you've got." + +"No, you won't," he answered nasally; "it's made me feel exactly like +a Yank; I'm too proud to fight." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +WAITING FOR THE WAR TO CEASE + + +We were still in dugouts when Art Pratt woke me one morning with a +vicious kick, to show me my boots lying outside of the dugout, filled +with rain water. All the night before it had poured steadily, but now +it was clearing nicely. The Island of Imbros, fifteen miles away, that +seemed to draw a great deal nearer before every rainstorm, had +retreated to its normal position. The sky was still gray, but it was +the leaden gray of a Turkish autumn day. From Suvla Bay the wind blew +keen and piercing. I salved the boots from the rain puddle, emptied +them, dried them out as best I could with my puttees, and put them on. +Art, in his own inimitable way, said unprintable things about a rifle +that had been left outside, and that now necessitated laborious +cleaning, in time for rifle inspection. All through breakfast, Lew +O'Dea elaborated on the much-quoted remarks of the Governor of North +Carolina to the Governor of South Carolina. Rum had not been issued as +per schedule the evening before. Art began a maliciously fabricated +story of a conversation he had heard in which a senior officer had +stated that now that the cold weather had come, there would be no more +rum. Just then, some one shouted, to "Look up in the sky." From the +direction of the trenches a dark cloud was coming rapidly toward us. +(A few nights before, while we were in trenches, we had been ordered +to put on our gas masks; for, a little to the right of us, the Turks +had turned the poison gas on the Gurkhas.) At first, the dark mass in +the sky appeared to some to be poison gas. They immediately dived for +their gas masks. As it came nearer, however, we were able to +distinguish that it was not a cloud, but a huge flock of wild geese, +beginning their southern migration. O'Dea selected a rifle from his +collection, loaded it, and waited till the geese were almost directly +overhead; then, amid derisive cheering, he fired ten rounds at them. +They were much too high in air for a successful shot, even if he had +used gunshot; but even after they were almost over Imbros Island, Lew +continued firing. When an officer arrived, demanding sarcastically if +Lew O'Dea wouldn't sooner send some written invitations to the Turks +to shell us, he subsided, and began cleaning his artillery. Until +then, we had been wearing thin khaki duck uniforms with short pants +that made us look like boy scouts. We had found these rather cool at +night; but in the hot days we preferred them to the heavy khaki drill +uniforms that were kept in kit bags at the beach. I had landed without +a kit bag, and the change of uniform I kept in the pack I carried on +my back. A little while before, I had put on the heavy uniform and +thrown away the light weight one. On the Peninsula, when you have to +walk with all your possessions on your back, each additional ounce +counts for much. As soon as we found that it was impossible to get +water to wash or shave in, we threw away our towels and soap. A few +kept their razors. The only thing I hung on to was my tooth brush--not +for its legitimate purpose, but to clean the sand and grit out of my +rifle. + +"Go over and ask Mr. Nunns," said Art to me, while we were cleaning +our rifles, "if he'll give us a pass to go down to the beach to find +my kit bag. I'll finish cleaning your rifle while you go over." I +handed the rifle to Art, and went over to look for Mr. Nunns. When I +found him he was censoring some letters. + +"You'd better wait till this afternoon, before going," he said. "I +want you to take twenty men and carry up ten boxes of ammunition to +the firing line, where A Company are. They're coming out to-morrow +night and we're to relieve them." He gave me a pass, and I took it +over to Art. + +"You can go down this morning if you like," I said, "or you can wait +till I get back from this ammunition detail." + +"If you're not later than two o'clock," said Art, "I'll wait for you." + +I found the detail of twenty men for ammunition-carrying waiting for +me near the field kitchen. We crawled cautiously along some open +ground, past the quarter-master's dugout and the dugouts that were +dignified by the name of orderly room, where the colonel and adjutant +conducted the clerical business of the battalion, issued daily orders, +and sentenced defaulters. "Napoleon knew what was what," said the man +near me, as he wriggled along, "when he said that an army fights on +its stomach. I've been on my stomach half the time since I've been in +Gallipoli." We straightened up when we came to the communication +trench that gave us cover from snipers. Ordinarily we walked upright +when we were behind the lines, but for a few days past enemy snipers +had been extraordinarily active. The Turkish snipers were the most +effective part of their organization. Each sniper was armed with a +rifle with telescopic sights. With a rifle so equipped, a good shot +can hit a man at seven hundred yards, just as easily as the ordinary +soldier can shoot at one hundred. + +The ten boxes of ammunition were very heavy, and the heat of the day +necessitated a great many rests, before we reached the part of the +line held by A Company. A Company had been losing heavily for a day or +two because of snipers. A couple of the men were talking about it when +I came along. + +"I don't see," one of them was saying, "how they can get us at night." + +"It's this way," explained the other. "The cigarette makers send their +snipers out sometime at night. Instead of going back that night they +stay out for a week, or longer. All the ration Johnny Turk needs is a +swallow of water, some onions, or olives, and a biscuit or two." + +"How is it," I asked, "we don't see them in the daytime?" + +"It's this way," said the A Company man. "He paints himself, his +rifle, and his clothes green. Then he twists some twigs and branches +around him and kids you he's a tree." + +"The way they do in this part of the trench," said another man who had +been listening to the conversation, "is to work in pairs. They get a +dugout somewhere where they can get a pretty good view of our +trenches. They see where we move about most, and aim their machine gun +at the top of the parapet. Then they clamp it down. At night when the +sentries are posted, they simply press the trigger, and there are some +more casualties." + +"You've got to hand it to Johnny Turk, just the same," said the first +man. "One of them will stand up in his dugout in broad daylight, +exposed from his waist up, and give you a chance to pot him, so that +his mate can get you. We used to lose men that way first. As soon as +we aimed, the second sniper turned his machine gun on us and got our +man. Now we've found a better way. We stick a helmet up on top of a +rifle just above the parapet, and fire from another part of the +trench." + +"We've been having trouble with them down in dugouts," I said. "Some +of the fellows say it's stray bullets, but it seems to me that they're +going too fast to be spent. You can tell a bullet that's spent by the +sound." + +One of the A Company sergeants who had been listening to the +discussion joined in. "It's snipers all right," he said. "It's easy +enough for a German officer to get into our trenches. Men are coming +in all the time from working parties, and night patrols, and the +engineers go back and forth every hour or so fixing up the barb wire. +Only a little while ago they found one fellow. He had stripped a +uniform from one of our dead, dressed himself in it, and walked up to +our parapet one night. The sentry didn't know the difference, because +the other fellow spoke good English, so he let him pass. All they have +to do is say 'What ho,' or, 'Where's the Dublin's section of trench?' +They can get by all right." + +The officer to whom I had delivered the ammunition sent word that it +had been checked and that we could return to our company. We were +only a short distance down the communication trench when a party of +officers came along. We drew a little to one side, and stopped to let +them pass. Not one of them was under the rank of lieutenant-colonel, +and one of them was a general. He was a rather tall, spare man, with a +drooping brown mustache. He was most unlike the usual type of gruff, +surly general officers in charge. His eyes had a kindly, +friend-of-the-family sort of twinkle. His type was more like a +superintendent of construction, or a kindly old family physician. +"Look at the ribbons on the old boy's chest," said the man near me. +"He's got enough medals to make a keel for a battleship." In the +British army, those who have seen previous service wear on the breast +of their tunics the ribbons for each campaign. The general halted his +red-tabbed staff where we stood. + +"Are you Newfoundlanders, Corporal?" he said to me. + +"Yes, sir," I answered. + +"They've made it pretty warm for you since you've been here," he +added, with a smile. "Your men are most efficient trench diggers. If I +had an army like them, we'd dig our way to Constantinople." With that +he passed on with a smile. A pompous-looking sergeant brought up +the rear of the general's escort. + + [Illustration: Landing British troops from the transports at the + Dardanelles under the protection of the battleships] + +"Who was that, that just spoke to us, Sergeant?" I asked. + +The sergeant surveyed me contemptuously. "Is it possible that you don't +know 'im. 'E's General Sir Ian Hamilton, General Commander-in-Chief of +the Mediterranean Force, 'e is." + +General Sir Ian Hamilton has won the unquestioned devotion of the +First Newfoundland Regiment. Many times after that, he visited the +front line trenches and stopped to exchange a few words with men here +and there. It is a curious thing that while the young subaltern +lieutenants held themselves very much aloof, the senior officers +chatted amiably with our men. The Newfoundlanders, democratic to the +core, hated anything that in the least savored of "side," and they +admired the courage of a general officer who took his chances in the +firing line. + +Art was waiting for me when I reached the dugout after my ammunition +fatigue. I accompanied him down the mule path that led along the edge +of the Salt Lake to West Beach, where we had made our landing the +first night. The place looked very different now. Under the shelter +of the beetling cliffs, the engineers had constructed dugouts of all +sorts. The beach was piled high with boxes of beef, biscuits, jam, +lime juice, and rum. At the top of the hill, a temporary dressing +station for the wounded had been built; and nearer the beach was a +clearing station, from which the wounded were taken by motor ambulance +to the hospital ship. At different points along the beach, piers had +been built for the landing of supplies and troops, and for the loading +of wounded into lighters to be taken to the hospital ships waiting out +in deeper water. The Australians had put up a wire fence around a part +of beach and used it for a graveyard. We found the man in charge of +the kit bags of the Newfoundlanders, and after much search located +Art's bag, and took out the stuff we wanted. On the way back, in a +little ravine just on the edge of the Salt Lake, we came upon two +horsemen. They were General Hamilton and his aide. The general +returned our salute smilingly. + +"Who is it?" said Art. + +"It's Sir Ian Hamilton," I said. "Doesn't he look like the sort of +man it would be wise to confide in?" + +"Yes, he does," said Art. "Evidently he has confidence in our troops' +ability to hold their own," added Art. "The Turks have four lines of +trenches to fall back on; we have only one firing line." + +There was the same group around the field kitchen when we arrived back +at our lines. They were swapping yarns and telling stories with a +lurid intermixture of profanity and a liberal sprinkling of trench +slang. To me, one of the most interesting side lights of the war is +the slang that forms a great part of the vocabulary of the trenches. +Early morning tea, when we got it, was "gun-fire." A Turk was never a +Turk. He was a Turkey, Abdul Pasha, or a cigarette maker. A regiment +is a "mob." A psychologist would have been interested to see that +nobody ever spoke of a comrade as having died or been killed, but had +"gone west." All the time I was at the front, I never heard one of our +men say that another had been killed. A man who was killed in our +regiment had "lost his can," although this referred most particularly +to men shot through the head. Ordinarily a dead man was called a +"washout"; or it was said that he had "copped it." The caution to keep +your head down always came, "Keep your napper down low." To get +wounded with one of our own bullets was to get a "dose of +three-o-three." The bullet has a diameter of three-hundred-and-three +thousandths of an inch. + +Mr. Nunns came toward the group, looking for Stenlake. It was Sunday +afternoon, and he thought it would be well to have a service. Stenlake +was found, and a crowd trailed after him to an empty dugout, where he +gathered them about him and began. It was a simple, sincere service. +Out there in that barren country, it seemed a strange thing to see +those rough men gathered about Stenlake while he read a passage or led +a hymn. But it was most impressive. The service was almost over, and +Stenlake was offering a final prayer, when the Turkish batteries +opened fire. Ordinarily at the first sound of a shell, men dived for +shelter; but gathered around that dugout, where a single shell could +have wrought awful havoc, not a man stirred. They stayed motionless, +heads bowed reverently, until Stenlake had finished. Then quietly +they dispersed. As a lesson in faith it was most illuminating. + +It was strange to see week by week the psychological change that had +come over the men. Most of all I noticed it in the songs they sang. At +first the songs had been of a boisterous character, that foretold +direful things that would happen to the Kaiser and his family "As we +go marching through Germany." These had all given place to songs that +voiced to some extent the longing for home that possessed these +voluntary exiles. "I want to go back to Michigan" was a favorite. +Perhaps even more so was "The little gray home in the West." +"Tipperary" was still in demand, not because of the lilt of a march +that it held, but for the pathetic little touch of "my heart's right +there," and perhaps for the reference to "the sweetest girl I know." + +Perhaps it may have been the effect of Stenlake's service, or it may +have been the news that we were to go into the firing line the next +day, that made the men seek their dugouts early that Sunday evening. +But there was something heavy in the air that night. For almost a week +we had been comparatively safe in dugouts. Tomorrow we were again to +go into the firing line and wait impotently while our number was +reduced gradually but pitilessly. The hopelessness of the thing seemed +clearer that evening than any other time we had been there. Simpson, +"the Man with the Donkeys," had been killed that day. After a whole +summer in which he seemed to be impervious to bullets, a stray bullet +had caught him in the heart on his way down Shrapnel Valley with a +consignment of wounded. Simpson had been so much a part of the +Peninsular life that it was hard to realize that he had gone to swell +the list of heroes that Australia has so much cause to be proud of. A +Company had suffered heavily in the front line trenches that day. A +number of stretchers had passed down the road that ran in front of our +dugouts, with A Company men for the dressing station on the beach. +Snipers had been busy. From the A Company stretcher-bearers came news +that others had been killed. One piece of news filtered slowly down to +us that evening, that had an unaccountably strange effect on the men +of B Company. Sam Lodge had been killed. Sam Lodge was perhaps the +most widely known man in the whole regiment. There were very few +Newfoundlanders who did not think kindly of the big, quiet, reliable +looking college man. He had enlisted at the very first call for +volunteers. Other men had been killed that day; and since the regiment +had been at Gallipoli, men had stood by while their dugout mates were +torn by shrapnel or sank down moaning, with a sniper's bullet in the +brain; but nothing had ever had the same effect, at any rate on the +men of our company, as the news that Sam Lodge had been killed that +day. Perhaps it was that everybody knew him. Other nights men had +crowded around the fire, telling stories, exchanging gossip, or +singing. To-night all was quiet; there was not even the sound of men +creeping about from dugout to dugout, visiting chums. Suddenly, from +away up on the extreme right end of the line of dugouts, came the +sound of a clear tenor voice, singing, "Tenting To-night on the Old +Camp Ground." Never have I heard anything so mournful. It is +impossible to describe the penetrating pathos of the old Civil War +song. Slowly the singer continued, amidst a profound hush. His voice +sank, until one could scarcely catch the words when he sang, "Waiting +for the war to cease." At last he finished. There was scarcely a +stir, as the men dropped off to sleep. + +It was a quiet, sober lot of men who filed into a shady, tree-dotted +ravine the next day behind the stretcher that bore the remains of +Private Sam Lodge. Stenlake read the burial service. Everybody who +could turned out to pay their last respects to the best liked man in +the regiment. After the brief service, Colonel Burton, the commanding +officer, Captain Carty, Lodge's company commander, a group of senior +and junior officers, and a number of profoundly affected soldiers +gathered about the grave while the body was lowered into it. In the +shade of a spreading tree, within sound of the mournful wash of the +tide in Suvla Bay, lies poor Sam Lodge, a good, cheerful soldier, +uncomplaining always, a man whose last thought was for others. "Don't +bother to lift me down off the parapet, boys," he had said when he was +hit; "I'm finished." + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NO MAN'S LAND + + +Our dugouts were located about a quarter of a mile inland from the +edge of the Salt Lake. Somewhere at the other side of the Salt Lake +was the cleverly concealed landing place of the aeroplane service. +Commander Sampson, who had been in action since the beginning of the +war, was in charge of the aeroplane squadron. One day, by clever +manoeuvering he forced one of the enemy planes, a Taube, away from its +own lines and back over the Salt Lake. Here after a spectacular fight +in mid air, Sampson forced the other to surrender and captured his +machine. The Taube he thereafter used for daily reconnaissance. Every +afternoon we watched him hover over the Turkish lines, circle clear of +their bursting shrapnel, poising long enough to complete his +observations, then return to the Salt Lake with his report for our +artillery and the navy. The day after Sam Lodge's burial, we watched +two hostile 'planes chase Sampson back right to our trenches. When +they came near enough, our men opened rapid fire that forced them to +turn; but before Sampson reached his landing place at Salt Lake, we +could see that he was in trouble. One of the wings of his machine was +drooping badly. From the other side of the Salt Lake, a motor +ambulance was tearing along towards the place where he was expected to +land. The Taube sank gradually to the ground, the ambulance drew up to +within about thirty feet of it, and turned about, waiting. We saw +Sampson jump out of his seat, almost before the machine touched the +ground, and walk to the waiting ambulance. The ambulance had just +started, when a shell from a Turkish gun hit the prostrate aeroplane +and tore a large hole in it. With marvelous precision, the Turkish +battery pumped three or four shells almost on top of the first. In a +few minutes, all that was left of the Taube was a twisted mass of +frame work; of the wings, not a fragment remained. + +But although Sampson had lost his 'plane, he had completed his +mission. About half an hour later, the navy in the bay began a +bombardment. We could see the men-o'-war lined up, pouring broadsides +over our heads into the Turkish trenches. First, we saw the gray ships +calmly riding the waves; then, from their sides came puffs of whitish +gray smoke, and the flash of the discharge, followed by the jarring +report of the explosion. Around the bend of Anafarta Bay, we saw +creeping in a strange, low-lying, awkward-looking craft that reminded +one of the barges one sees used for dredging harbors. It was one of +the new monitors, the most efficiently destructive vessel in the navy. +Soon the artillery on the land joined in. About four o'clock the +bombardment had started; and all that afternoon the terrific din kept +up. When we went into the firing line that evening at dark, the +bombardment was still going on. About nine o'clock it stopped; but at +three the next morning, it was resumed with even greater force. The +part of the line we were holding was in a valley; to the right and +left of us, the trenches ran up hill. From our position in the middle, +we had a splendid view of the other parts of the line. All that +morning the bombardment kept up. Our gunners were concentrating on the +trenches well up the hill on the left. First we watched our shells +demolish the enemy's front line trench. Immense shells shrieked +through the air above our heads and landed in the Turks' firing line. +Gradually but surely the huge projectiles battered down the enemy +defenses. The Turks stuck to their ground manfully, but at last they +had to give up. Through field glasses we could see the communication +trenches choked with fleeing Turks. Some of our artillery, to prevent +their escape, concentrated on the support trenches. This manoeuver +served a double purpose: besides preventing the escape of those +retreating from the battered front line trench, it stopped +reinforcements from coming up. Still farther back, a mule train +bringing up supplies, was caught in open ground in the curtain of +fire. The Turks, caught between two fires, could not escape. In a +short time all that was left of the scientifically constructed +intrenchments was a conglomerate heap of sand bags, equipments, and +machine guns; and on top of it all lay the mangled bodies of men and +mules. + +All through the bombardment, we had hoped for the order to go over the +parapet. When we had been rushed to the firing line the night before, +we thought it was to take part in the attack. Instead of this, we +were held in the firing line. For the Worcesters on our left was +reserved the distinction of making the charge. High explosives cleared +the way for their advance, and cheering and yelling they went over +parapet. The Turks in the front line trenches, completely demoralized, +fled to the rear. A few, too weak or too sorely wounded to run, +surrendered. While the bombardment was going on, our men stood in +their trenches, craning their necks over the parapet. All through the +afternoon, the excitement was intense. Men jumped up and down, running +wildly from one point in the trench to another to get a better view. +Some fired their rifles in the general direction of the enemy; "just a +few joy guns," they said. Everybody was laughing and shouting +delightedly. Down in the bay, the gray ships looked almost as small as +launches in the mist formed by the smoke of the guns. The +Newfoundlanders might have been a crowd rooting at a baseball game. +Every few minutes, when the smoke in the bay cleared sufficiently to +reveal to us a glimpse of the ships, the trenches resounded to the +shouts of, "Come on, the navy," and "Good old Britain." And when the +great masses of iron hurtled through the air and tore up sections of +the enemy's parapet, we shouted delightedly, "Iron rations for Johnny +Turk!" + +Prisoners taken in this engagement told us that the Turkish rank and +file heartily hated their German officers. From the first, they had +not taken kindly to underground warfare. The Turks were accustomed to +guerrilla fighting, and had to be driven into the trenches by the +German officers at the point of their revolvers. One prisoner said +that he had been an officer; but since the beginning of the campaign, +he had been replaced by a German. At that time, he told us, the Turks +were officered entirely by Germans. For two or three days after that, +at short intervals, one or two at a time, Turks dribbled in to +surrender. They were tired of fighting, they said, and were almost +starved to death. Many more would surrender, they told us, but they +were kept back by fear of being shot by their German officers. + +With the monotony varied occasionally by some local engagement like +this, we dragged through the hot, fly-pestered days, and cold, drafty, +vermin-infested nights of September and early October. By the middle +of October, disease and scarcity of water had depleted our ranks +alarmingly. Instead of having four days on the firing line and eight +days' rest, we were holding the firing line eight days and resting +only four. In my platoon, of the six noncommissioned officers who had +started with us, only two corporals were left, one other and I. For a +week after the doctor had ordered him to leave the Peninsula, the +other corporal hung on, pluckily determined not to leave me alone. All +this time, the work of the platoon was divided between us; he stayed +up half the night, and I the other half. At last, he had to be +personally conducted to the clearing station. + +Just about the middle of October comes a Mohammedan feast that lasts +for three or four days. During the days of the feast, while our +battalion was in the firing line, some prisoners who surrendered told +us that the Turks were suffering severely from lack of food and warm +clothing. All sorts of rumors ran through the trench. One was that +some one had reliable information that the supreme commander of the +Turkish forces had sent to Berlin for men to reinforce his army. If +the reinforcements did not come in four days, he would surrender his +entire command. Men ordered off the Peninsula by the medical officer, +instead of proceeding to the clearing station, sneaked back to their +positions in the trench, waiting to see the surrender. But the +surrender never came. Things went on in the same old dreary, +changeless round. More than sickness, or bullets, the sordid monotony +had begun to tell on the men. Every day, officers were besieged with +requests for permission to go out between the lines to locate snipers. +When men were wanted for night patrol, for covering parties, or for +listening post details, every one volunteered. Ration parties to the +beach, which had formerly been a dread, were now an eagerly sought +variation, although it was a certainty that from every such party we +should lose ten per cent. of the personnel. Any change, of any sort, +was welcome. The thought of being killed had lost its fear. Daily +intercourse with death had robbed it of its horror. Here was one case +where familiarity had bred contempt. Most of the men had sunk into +apathy, simply waiting for the day their turn was to come, wondering +how soon would come the bullet that had on it their "name and number." +Most of the men in talking to each other, especially to their sick +comrades, spoke hopefully of the outcome; but those I talked with +alone all had the same thought: only by a miracle could they escape +alive; that miracle was a "cushy one." + +One wave of hope swept over the Peninsula in that dreary time. The +brigade bulletin board contained the news that it was expected that in +a day or two at the most Bulgaria would come into the war on the side +of the Allies. To us this was of tremendous importance. With a +frontier bordering on Turkey, Bulgaria might turn the scale in our +favor. Life became again full of possibilities and interest. Our +interpreters printed up an elaborate menu in Turkish that recited the +various good things that might be found in our trenches by Turks who +would surrender. At the foot of the menus was a little note suggesting +that now was the ideal time to come in, and that the ideal way to +celebrate the feast was to become our guests. These menus we attached +to little stakes and just in front of the Turkish barbed wire we stuck +them in the ground. Several Turks came in within the next few days, +but whether as a result of this or not, it was impossible to say. The +feeling of renewed hope and buoyancy caused by the news of the +imminence of Bulgaria's alliance with us was of short duration. A day +or so afterwards came the alarming news that the Allied ministers had +left Bulgaria; and the following day came word that Bulgaria had +joined in the war, not with us, but with the Central Powers. Again +apathy settled on the men. Now, too, the rainy season had set in in +earnest. Torrents of rain poured down daily on the trenches, choking +the drains, and filling the passageway with thick gray mud in which +one slipped and floundered helplessly, and which coated uniforms and +equipments like cement. One relief it did bring with it. Men who had +not had a bath, or a shave in months, were able to collect in their +rubber sheets enough rain water to wash and shave with. But the +drinking water was still scarce. On other parts of the Peninsula there +was plenty of it; but we had so few men available for duty that we +could scarcely spare enough men to go for it. Also, there was the +difficulty in securing proper receptacles for its conveyance. Most of +the men were very much exhausted, and the trip of four or five miles +for water would have been too much for them. Even when we did get +water, it had to be boiled to kill the germs of disease, and to +prevent men from being poisoned. The boiled water was flat and +tasteless; and to counteract this, we were given a spoonful of lime +juice about once a week. This we put in our water bottles. About every +third day we were issued some rum. Twice a week, an officer appeared +in the trench carrying a large stone jar bearing the magic letters in +black paint, P.D.R., Pure Demerara Rum. This he doled out as if every +drop had cost a million dollars. Each man received just enough to +cover the bottom of his canteen, not more than an eighth of a tumbler. +Just before going out on any sort of night fatigue on the wet ground, +it was particularly grateful. We had long ago given up reckoning time +by the calendar, and days either were or were not "Rum days." Men who +were wounded on these days bequeathed their share to their particular +pals or to their dugout mates. Some of the men were total abstainers +with the courage of their convictions; they steadfastly refused to +touch it. The other men canvassed these on rum days for their share of +the fiery liquid, and in exchange did the temperance men's share of +fatigue duty. During this time, there was very little fighting. Both +sides were intrenched and prepared to stay there for the winter. In +the particular section of trench we held, we knew that any attempt at +an advance would be hopeless and suicidal. The ground in front was too +well commanded by enemy machine guns. Still, we thought that some +other parts of the line might advance and turn one of the flanks of +the enemy. Nothing was impossible to the Dublins or the Munsters; and +there was always faith in the invincible Australasians. We could not +forget the way the Australasians a short time before had celebrated +the news of the British advance at Loos. + +Just after the Turkish feast, we went into dugouts again for a few +days, and back once more to the firing line. This time, we were up in +the farm house district near Chocolate Hill. It was a place +particularly exposed to shell fire; for the old skeletons of farm +houses made good targets for the enemy's guns. Every afternoon, the +Turks sent over about a dozen or so shells, just to show us that they +knew we were there. After Bulgaria came in against us, it seemed to us +that the Turks grew much more prodigal of their shells than formerly. +Where before they sent over ten, they now fired twenty. It was rather +grimly ironic to find, on examination of some of the shell casings, +that they were shells made by Great Britain and supplied to the Turks +in the Balkan War. There was a certain amount of sardonic satisfaction +in knowing that the fortifications on Achi Baba were placed there by +British engineers when we looked on the Turks as friends. No. 8 +platoon was intrenched just in front of a field in which grew a number +of apple trees. In the daytime we could not get to these, but at night +some of the more venturesome spirits crawled out and returned with +their haversacks full. A little further along was what had once been a +garden. Even now there were still growing some tomatoes and some +watermelons. The rest of it was a mass of battered stones that had +once been fences. Here it was that the old gray bearded farmers who +had been peacefully working in their fields had hung up their scythes +and taken down from their hook on the wall old rusty muskets and +fought in their dooryards to defend their homes. The oncoming troops +had swept past them, but at a tremendous cost. For a whole day the +battle had swayed back and forth. Where formerly had bloomed a +luxuriant garden or orchard, was now a plowed field,--plowed not with +farm implements but with shrapnel and high explosive shells. Dotting +it here and there, were the little rough wooden crosses that gave the +simple details of a man's regimental name, number, and date of death. +Not a few of them were in memory of "Unknown Comrades." And once in a +while one saw a cross that marked the resting place of the foe. +Feeling toward the enemy differed with individuals; but we were all +agreed that Johnny Turk was a good, clean, sporty fighter, who +generally gave as good as we could send. Therefore, whenever we could +we gave him decent burial, we stuck a cross up over him, although he +did not believe in what it symbolized, and we took off his +identification disk and personal papers. These we handed to our +interpreters, who sent them to the neutral consuls at Constantinople; +and they communicated through the proper channels with the deceased's +various widows. + +After a week or so in this district, we moved back again to our old +quarters at Anafarta village. Here we took over a block house occupied +by the Essex. The Dublins and the Munsters were on our right. The +block house was an advanced post that we held in the morning and +during the night. Every afternoon we left it for a few hours while the +enemy wasted shells on it. A couple of Irish snipers were with us. The +first day they were there, our Lieutenant, Mr. Nunns, spent the day +with them; that day, he accounted for four Turks. This was the closest +we had yet been to them. I stood up beside an Irish sniper and looked +through a pair of field glasses to where he pointed out some snipers' +dugouts. They were the same dugouts that Cooke, the Irish V.C. man, +had shown me. While I was watching, I saw an old Turk sneaking out +between his trench and one of the dugouts. He looked old and stooped +and had a long whisker that reached almost to his waist and appeared +to have difficulty in getting along. All about him were little canvas +pockets that contained bombs and about his neck was a long string of +small bombs. "Begob," said one of the Dublins, beside me, "'t is the +daddy of them all. Get him, my son." I grasped my gun excitedly and +aimed; but before I had taken the pressure of the trigger, I heard +from a little distance to the right the staccato of a machine gun. +The result was astonishing. One second, I was looking through my +sights at the Turk; the next, he had disappeared, and in his place was +the most marvelous combination of all colors of flames I have ever +seen. Literally Johnny Turk had gone up in smoke. The Irishman beside +me was standing open mouthed. + +"Glory be to God," he said, "what does that make you think of?" + +"It reminds me," I said, "of a Fourth of July celebration in the +States; and I wish," I added heartily, "I was there now." + +"It makes me think, my son," said the Irishman, "of the way ould Cooke +killed a lot of the sausage-makers over on the other side. He threw a +bomb in among tin of 'em and then fired his rifle at it and exploded +it. Killed every damn one of 'em, he did. 'T was the same time he got +the V.C." + +"I suppose," I said, "Cooke's in London now getting his medal from the +King. He's through with this Peninsula." + +"Thrue for you, my son," said the Irishman, "he's through with this +Peninsula, but he's not in London. 'T was just three nights ago that I +went out yonder, and tin yards in front of that dugout I found ould +Cooke's body. The Turrk got him right through the cap badge and blew +the top clean off his head. 'T is just luck. Some has it one way, and +some has it another; but whichever way you have it, it don't do you no +good to worry over it." + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Australians in the trenches consider clothes a superfluity] + +Having delivered himself of this satisfying philosophy, he resumed his +survey of the ground in front. + +About ten yards outside the block house we were holding, the Turks +had, under cover of darkness, almost completed a sap, with the object +of surrounding the block house. A detachment of the Dublins with three +or four bomb throwers sapped out to the left of the sap the enemy was +digging, after a short but exciting engagement, bombed them out of it, +and took the sap at the point of the bayonet. They found it occupied +by only two Turks, who surrendered. The rest were able to get back to +their own trench. We cut the corner off this sap, rounded it off to +surround our block house, and occupied it. It brought us to within +fifty yards of the enemy firing line. We could hear them talking at +night; and in the daytime we could see them walking about their +trenches. At this point, they had in their lines a number of animals, +chiefly dogs. In addition, they had a brass band that played tuneless, +wailing music nearly every night, to the accompaniment of the howling +and barking of dogs. Some of the men claimed that the dogs were +trained animals who carried food to snipers and who were taught to +find the Turkish wounded. This may have been true; but I have always +believed that their chief use was to cover the noise of secret +operations. This seems likely, for they were able to get their sap +almost finished without our hearing them. + +The block house we held stood just in the center of the line that the +Fifth Norfolks had charged into early in August, and from which not +one man had emerged. The second or third day we occupied it, a +detachment of engineers was sent in to make loopholes and prepare it +for a stubborn defense. In the wall on the left they made a large +loophole. The sentry posted there the first morning saw about twenty +feet away the body of a British soldier, partly buried. Two volunteers +to bury the body were asked for. Half a dozen offered, although it was +broad daylight and the place the body lay in offered no protection. + +Before any one could be selected, Art Pratt and young Hayes made the +decision by jumping up, taking their picks and shovels, and vaulting +over the wall of the block house. They walked out to where the body +lay. It had been torn in pieces by a shell the previous afternoon. At +first a few bullets tore up little spurts of ground near the two men, +but as soon as they reached the body, this stopped. The Turks never +fired on burial parties; and men on the Peninsula, wounded by snipers, +tell strange stories of dark-skinned visitors who crept up to them +after dark, bound up their wounds, gave them water, and helped them to +within shouting distance of their own lines, where at daylight the +next morning their comrades found them. Once one of our batteries was +very near a dressing station when a stray shell, fired at the battery, +hit the dressing station. The Turkish observer heliographed over and +apologized. That is why we respected the Turk. When we tried to shoot +him, he chuckled to himself and sniped us from trees and dugouts; and +when we reviled him and threw tins of apricot jam at him, he gave +thanks to Allah, and ate the jam. The empty tins he filled with powder +and returned to us in the shape of bombs. Only once did he really +lose his temper. That was when under his very eyes we deliberately +undressed on his beach and disported ourselves in the AEgean Sea. Then +he sent over shells that shrieked at us to get out of his ocean. But +in his angriest moments he respected the Red Cross and never ill +treated our wounded. One chap, an Englishman, was wounded in the head +just as he reached the Turkish trench during a charge. The bullet went +in the side of his head, ruining both his eyes. He was captured as he +toppled over into the trench, was taken to Constantinople, well +treated in hospital there, and returned in the first batch of +exchanged prisoners. When I met him in Egypt, he had nothing but kind +words for the Turks. When the enemy saw the object of the little +expedition, they allowed Art and Hayes to proceed unmolested. We +watched them dig a grave beside the corpse; and when they had +finished, with a shovel they turned the body into it. Before doing it, +they searched the man for personal papers and took off his +identification disk. These bore the name, "Sergeant Golder, Fifth +Norfolk Regiment." That was in the last part of October; and since +August 10th not a word had been heard of the missing Norfolk +regiment. To this day, the whole affair remains a mystery. The +regiment disappeared as if the ground had swallowed them up. On the +King's Sandringham estate, families are still hoping against hope that +there may sometime come word that the men are prisoners in Turkey. +Neutral consuls in Constantinople have been appealed to, and have +taken the matter up with the Turkish Government. The most searching +inquiries have elicited nothing new. The answer has always been the +same. The Turkish authorities know no more about it than the English. +Two hundred and fifty men were given the order to charge into a wood. +The only sign that they ever did so, is the little wooden cross that +reads + + IN MEMORY OF + SERGEANT J. GOLDER + FIFTH NORFOLK REGIMENT + KILLED IN ACTION + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +WOUNDED + + +The gorgeous tropical sunset had given place to the inky darkness of a +Turkish night, when we moved into trenches well up on the side of a +hill that overlooked Anafarta Plain. Here an advance had been +unsuccessful, and the Turks had counter attacked. Half way, the +British had dug in hastily, in hard limestone that resisted the pick. +No. 8 platoon held six traverses. Four of these were exposed to +enfilade fire. About two hundred yards away, at an angle on the left +front, a number of snipers had built some dugouts on Caribou Ridge. +These they manned with machine guns. From this elevation, they could +pour their fire into our trenches. Several attempts had been made to +dislodge them; but their machine guns commanded the intervening ground +and made an advance impossible. Their first line trench was about two +hundred yards in front of us. Thirty or forty yards nearer us they +were building a sap that ran parallel with their lines for about five +hundred yards. At that point it took a sharp V turn inward toward us. +The proximity of the enemy, and the contour of the ground so favorable +to them, made it necessary to take extra precautions, especially at +night. Each night, at the point where the enemy sap turned toward us, +we sent out a listening patrol of two men and a corporal. The fourth +night, my turn came. That day it had rained without cessation; and in +the early part of the evening I had tried to sleep, but my wet clothes +and the pouring rain had made it impossible. I felt rather glad when I +was told that at one-thirty I was to go out for two hours on listening +patrol. That night we had been issued some rum, and I had been +fortunate enough to get a good portion. I decided to reserve it until +I went out. About ten o'clock I gave up attempting to sleep, and +walked down the trench a little way to where a collection of trees and +brush had been laid across the top. Some one, with memories of +London's well-known meeting place, had christened it the Marble Arch. +I stood under this arch, where the rain did not penetrate, and talked +with the corporal of an English regiment who were holding the line on +the other side of the Marble Arch. A Sergeant Manson, who had been +loaned to us from another platoon, came along and we talked for a +while. He had received some chocolate that evening, and the next +morning he was going to distribute it among the men. It was in a +haversack under his head, he said, and he was going to sleep on it to +prevent it from being stolen. About eleven he returned to his place on +the firing platform and went to sleep. I was ravenously hungry, and +had nothing to eat. I could not find even a biscuit. I did find some +bully beef, and ate some of it, washing it down with a swallow of the +precious rum from my water bottle. Then I remembered the chocolate +under Sergeant Manson's head, and went over to where he was lying. He +was breathing heavily in the deep sleep of exhaustion. Quietly I +slipped my hand into the haversack, and took out four or five little +cubes of chocolate about an inch long. Manson stirred sleepily and +murmured, "What do you want?" then turned over and again began +breathing regularly. It was now almost time to start for the listening +post. So I went along the trench to where I knew young Hayes was +sleeping. He had volunteered as one of the men to accompany me, and +from D Company I got the second man. My platoon by this time had been +reduced to eighteen men, and I was the only non-com. We had to get men +from D Company to take turns on the parapet at night, although they +were supposed to be resting at the time. Between us and the Turkish +sap a small rise covered with short evergreen bushes prevented us from +seeing them. To get to this we had to cross about fifty yards of +ground with fairly good cover, and another fifty yards of bare ground. +Where the bare ground began, a ditch filled with dank, wet grass +served as our listening post. A large tree with spreading boughs gave +us some shelter. From behind this we could watch the rising ground in +front. Any of the enemy attempting an advance had to appear over this +rise. Our instructions were to watch this, and report any movement of +the enemy, but not to fire. I left young Hayes about half way between +this tree and the trench, and the other man and I spread a rubber +sheet under the tree and made ourselves as comfortable as possible. +The rain was still coming down with a steadiness that promised little +hope of stopping. After a little while I became numbed, and decided +to move about a little. When I came on the Peninsula, I had no +overcoat, but a little time before had secured a very fine gray woolen +great-coat from a Turk. It had been at one time the property of a +German officer, and was very warm and comfortable, with a large collar +and deep thick cuffs. I had worn it about the trench and it had been +the subject of much comment. That night I wore it, and over it a +raincoat. So that my movements might be less constricted, I took off +the raincoat, and left it with the D Company man, who stayed under the +tree. It was pitch dark, and I got across the open space to the +evergreen-covered rise without being seen. Here I dropped on my +stomach and wriggled between wet bushes that pricked my face, up to +the top. + +It was only about thirty feet, but it took me almost an hour to get up +there. By the time I had reached the top it had stopped raining and +stars had come out. I crawled laboriously a short distance down the +other side of the little hill; I parted the bushes slowly and was +preparing to draw myself a little further when I saw something that +nearly turned me sick with horror. Almost under my face were the +bodies of two men, one a Turk, the other an Englishman. They were +both on their sides, and each of them were transfixed with the bayonet +of the other. I don't know how long I stayed there. It seemed ages. At +last I gathered myself together, and withdrew cautiously, a little to +the right. My nerves were so shaken by what I had just seen that I +decided to return at once to the man under the tree. When I had gone +back about ten feet I was seized with an overwhelming desire to go +back and find out to what regiment the dead Englishman belonged. At +the moment I turned, my attention was distracted by the noise of men +walking not very far to the front. I crawled along cautiously and +peered over the top of the rise where I could see the enemy sap. The +noise was made by a digging party who were just filing into the sap. +For almost an hour I lay there watching them. It gave me a certain +satisfaction to aim my rifle at each one in turn and think of the +effect of a mere pressure of the trigger. But my orders were not to +fire. I was on listening patrol, and we had men out on different +working parties, who might be hit in the resulting return fire. At +intervals I could hear behind me the report of a rifle, and wondered +what fool was shooting from our lines. When I thought it was time to +go back I crawled down the hill, and found to my consternation that +the moon was full, and the space between the foot of the little rise +and the tree was stark white in the moonlight. I had just decided to +make a sharp dash across when the firing that I had heard before +recommenced. Instead of being from our lines it came from a tree a +short distance to the left, at the end of the open space. It was +Johnny Turk, cozily ensconced in a tree that overlooked our trench. +Whenever he saw a movement he fired. He used some sort of smokeless +powder that gave no flash, and it was most fortunate for me that I +happened to be at the only angle that he could be seen from. I resumed +my wriggling along the edge of the open space to where it ended in +thick grass. Through this I crawled until I had come almost to the +edge of the ditch in which I had left the other man. But to reach it I +had to cross about ten feet of perfectly bare ground that gave no +protection. Had the Turk seen me he could have hit me easily. I +decided to crawl across slowly, making no noise. I put my head out of +the thick grass and with one knee and both hands on the ground poised +as a runner does at the start of a race. Against the clear white +ground I must have loomed large, for almost at once a bullet whizzed +through the top of the little brown woolen cap I was wearing. Just +then the D Company man caught sight of me, and raised his gun. "Who +goes there?" he shouted. I did some remarkably quick thinking then. I +knew that the bullet through my cap had not come from the sniper, and +that some one of our men had seen my overcoat and mistaken me for a +Turk. I knew the sniper was in the tree, and the D Company's man's +challenge would draw his attention to me; also I knew that the +Newfoundlander might shoot first and establish my identity afterwards. +He was wrong in challenging me, as his instructions were to make no +noise. But that was a question that I had to postpone settling. I +decided to take a chance on the man in the listening post. I shouted, +just loud enough for him to hear me, "Newfoundland, you damn fool, +Newfoundland," then tore across the little open space and dived head +first into the dank grass beside him. When I had recovered my breath, +with a vocabulary inspired by the occasion, I told him, clearly and +concisely, what I thought of him. While it may not have been +complimentary it was beyond question candid. When I had finished, I +sent him back to relieve young Hayes with instructions to send Hayes +out to me. In a few minutes Hayes came. + +"Do you know, Corporal," he said as he came up beside me, "I almost +shot you a few minutes ago. I should have when the other fellow +challenged you if you hadn't said 'Newfoundland.' I fired at you once. +I saw you go out one way, and when you came back I could just see your +Turkish overcoat. 'Here,' says I to myself, 'is Abdul Pasha trying to +get the Corporal, and I'll get him.' Instead of that I almost got +you." + +Whether or not the noise I made caused the sniper to become more +cautious I don't know, but I heard no further shots from him from then +until the time I was relieved. + +The arrival of a relief patrol prevented my replying to young Hayes. I +went back to my place in the trench, but try as I might I could not +sleep; I twisted from side to side, took off my equipment and +cartridge pouches, adjusted blankets and rubber sheet, tried another +place on the firing platform; I threw myself down flat in the bottom +of the trench. Still I could not get asleep. At last I abandoned the +attempt, took from my haversack a few cigarettes, lit one, and on a +piece of coarse paper began making a little diagram of the ground I +had covered that night, and of the position of the sniper I had been +watching. By the time I had completed it daylight had come, and with +it the familiar "Stand to." After "Stand to," I crawled under a rubber +sheet and snatched a few hours' sleep before breakfast. Just after +breakfast, a man from A Company came through the trench, munching some +fancy biscuits and carrying in his hand a can of sardines. The German +Kaiser could not have created a greater impression. "Where had he got +them, and how?" He explained that a canteen had been opened at the +beach. Here you could get everything that a real grocery store boasts, +and could have it charged on your pay-book. "A Company men," he said, +"had all given orders through their quarter-master sergeant, and had +received them that morning." Then followed a list of mouth-watering +delicacies, the very names of which we had almost forgotten. A +deputation instantly waited on Mr. Nunns. He knew nothing of the +thing, and was incensed that his men had not been allowed to +participate in the good things. He deputed me to go down and make +inquiries at A Company's lines. I did so, and found that the first man +had been perfectly correct. A Company was reveling in sardines, white +bread, real butter, dripping from roast beef, and tins of salmon and +lobster. If we gave an order that day, I was told, we should get it +filled the next. Elated, I returned to B Company's lines with the +news. The dove returning to the ark with the olive branch could not +have been more welcome. Mr. Nunns fairly beamed satisfaction. A few of +the more pessimistic reflected aloud that they might get killed before +the things arrived. + +Just before nine o'clock I went down to see the cooks about dinner for +my section. On my way back I passed a man going down the trench on a +stretcher. One of the stretcher bearers told me that he had been hit +in the head while picking up rubbish on top of the parapet. He hoped +to get him to the dressing station alive. As I came into our own lines +another stretcher passed me. The man on this one was sitting up, +grinning. + +"Hello, Gal," he yelled. "I've stopped a cushy one." + +I laughed. "How did it happen?" I asked. + + [Illustration: Some of the barbed wire entanglements near Seddel + Bahr are still in position] + +"Picking up rubbish on top of the parapet." + +He disappeared around the curve of the trench, delightedly spreading +the news that he had stopped a cushy one in the leg. I kept on back to +my own traverse, and showed the diagram I had made the night before to +Art Pratt. Mr. Nunns had granted us leave to go out that day to try to +get the sniper in the tree. Art was delighted at the chance of some +variety. While Art and I were making out a list of things we wanted at +the canteen, a man in my section came down the trench. + +"Corporal Gallishaw," he said, "the Brigade Major passed through the +lines a few minutes ago, and he's raising hell at the state of the +lines; you've got to go out with five men, picking up rubbish on top +of the parapet." + +Instantly there came before my eyes the vision of the strangely limp +form I had met only a few minutes before that had been hit in the head +"picking up rubbish on top of the parapet." But in the army one cannot +stop to think of such things long; orders have to be obeyed. Since +coming into the trench we had constructed a dump, but the former +occupants of the trench had thrown their refuse on top of the +parapet. My job with the five men was to collect this rubbish and put +it in our dump. At nine o'clock in the morning we mounted the parapet +and began digging. There was no cover for men standing; the low bushes +hid men sitting or lying. Every few minutes I gave the men a rest, +making them sit in the shelter of the underbrush. The sun was shining +brightly; and after the wet spell we had just passed through, the +warmth was peculiarly grateful. The news that the canteen had been +opened on the beach made most of the men optimistic. With good things +to eat in sight life immediately became more bearable. Never since the +first day they landed had the men seemed so cheerful. Up there where +we were the sun was very welcome, and we took our time over the job. +One chap had that morning been given fourteen days' field punishment, +because he had left his post for a few seconds the night before. He +wanted to get a pipe from his coat pocket, and did not think it worth +while to ask any one to relieve him. It was just those few seconds +that one of the brigade officers selected to visit our trench. When he +saw the post vacant, he waited until the man returned, asked his name, +then reported him. Field punishment meant that in addition to his +regular duties the man would have to work in every digging party or +fatigue detail. I asked him why he had not sent for me, and he told me +that it had happened while I was out in the listening patrol. He was +not worrying about the punishment, but feared that his parents might +hear of it through some one writing home. But after a little while +even he caught the spirit of cheerfulness that had spread amongst us +at the news of the new canteen. To the average person meals are like +the small white spaces in a book that divide the paragraphs; to us +they had assumed the proportions of the paragraph themselves. The man +who had just got field punishment told me the things he had ordered at +the canteen, and we compared notes and made suggestions. The +ubiquitous Hayes, working like a beaver with his entrenching tool, +threw remarks over his shoulder anent the man who had delayed the +information that the canteen had been established, and offered some +original and unique suggestions for that individual's punishment. When +we had the rubbish all scraped up in a pile, we took it on shovels to +the dump we had dug. To do this we had to walk upright. We had almost +finished when the snipers on Caribou Ridge began to bang at us. I +jumped to a small depression, and yelled to the men to take cover. +They were ahead of me, taking the last shovelful of rubbish to the +trench. At the warning to take cover, they separated and dived for the +bushes on either side. That is, they all did except Hayes, who either +did not hear me or did not know just where to go. I stepped up out of +the depression and pointed with outstretched arm to a cluster of +underbrush. "Get in there, Hayes!" I yelled. Just then I felt a dull +thud in my left shoulder blade, and a sharp pain in the region of my +heart. At first I thought that in running for cover one of the men had +thrown a pick-ax that hit me. Until I felt the blood trickling down my +back like warm water, it did not occur to me that I had been hit. Then +came a drowsy, languid sensation, the most enjoyable and pleasant I +have ever experienced. It seemed to me that my backbone became like +pulp, and I closed up like a concertina. Gradually I felt my knees +giving way under me, then my head dropped over on my chest, and down I +went. In Egypt I had seen Mohammedans praying with their faces toward +Mecca, and as I collapsed I thought that I must look exactly as they +did when they bent over and touched their heads to the ground, +worshiping the Prophet. Connecting the pain in my chest with the blow +in my back, I decided that the bullet had gone in my shoulder, through +my left lung, and out through my heart, and I concluded I was done +for. I can distinctly remember thinking of myself as some one else. I +recollect saying, half regretfully, "Poor old Gal is out of luck this +morning," then adding philosophically, "Well, he had a good time while +he was alive, anyway." By now things had grown very dim, and I felt +everything slipping away from me. I was myself again, but I said to +that other self who was lying there, as I thought, dying, "Buck up, +old Gal, and die like a sport." Just then I tried to say, "I'm hit." +It sounded as if somewhere miles away a faint echo mocked me. I must +have succeeded in making myself heard, because immediately I could +hear Hayes yell with a frenzied oath, "The Corporal's struck. Can't +you see the Corporal's struck?" and heard him curse the Turk who had +fired the shot. Almost instantly Hayes was kneeling beside me, trying +to find the wound. He was much more excited over it than I. + +"Don't you try to bandage it here," I said; "yell for stretcher +bearers." + +Hayes jumped up, shouting lustily, "Stretcher bearers at the double, +stretcher bearers at the double!" then added as an after-thought, +"Tell Art Pratt the Corporal's struck." + +I was now quite clear headed again and told Hayes to shout for "B +Company stretcher bearers." On the Peninsula messages were sent along +the trench from man to man. Sometimes when a traverse separated two +men, the one receiving the message did not bother to step around, but +just shouted the message over. Often it was not heard, and the message +stopped right there. One message there was though, that never +miscarried, the one that came most frequently, "Stretcher bearers at +the double." Unless the bearers from some particular company were +specified, all who received the message responded. It was to avoid +this that I told Hayes to yell for B Company stretcher bearers. +Apparently some one had heard Hayes yell, "Tell Art Pratt the +Corporal's struck," because in a few minutes Art was bending over me, +talking to me gently. Three other men whom I could not see had come +with him; they had risked their lives to come for me under fire. "We +must get him out of this," I heard Art say. In that moment of danger +his thought was not for himself, but for me. I was able to tell them +how to lift me. No women could have been more gentle or tender than +those men, in carrying me back to the trench. Although bullets were +pattering around, they walked at a snail's pace lest the least hurried +movement might jar me and add to my pain. The stretcher bearers had +arrived by the time we reached the trench, and were unrolling bandages +and getting iodine ready. At first there was some difficulty in +getting at the wound. It had bled so freely that the entire back of my +coat was a mass of blood. The men who had carried me looked as if they +had been wounded, so covered with blood were they. The stretcher +bearer's scissors would not work, and Art angrily demanded a sharp +knife, which some one produced. The stretcher bearer ripped up my +clothing, exposing my shoulder, then began patching up my _right_ +shoulder. I cursed him in fraternal trench fashion and told him he was +working on the wrong shoulder; I knew I had been hit in the _left_ +shoulder and tried to explain that I had been turned over since I was +hit. The stretcher bearer thought I was delirious and continued +working away. I thought he was crazy, and told him so. At last Art +interrupted to say, "Just look at the other shoulder to satisfy him." +They looked, and, as I knew they would, found the hole the bullet had +entered. To get at it they turned me over, and I saw that a crowd had +gathered around to watch the dressing and make remarks about the +amount of blood. I became quite angry at this, and I asked them if +they thought it was a nickel show. This caused them all to laugh so +heartily that even I joined in. This was when I felt almost certain +that I was dying. I can't remember even feeling relieved when they +told me that the bullet had not gone through my heart. The pain I felt +there when I was first hit was caused by the tearing of the nerves +which centered in my heart when the bullet tore across my back from +shoulder to shoulder. Never as long as I live shall I forget the +solicitude of my comrades that morning. The stretcher bearers found +that the roughly constructed trench was too narrow to allow the +stretcher to turn, so they put me in a blanket and started away. +Meanwhile the word had run along the trench that "Gal had copped it." +I did not know until that morning that I had so many friends. A +little way down the trench I met Sergeant Manson. He was carrying some +sticks of chocolate for distribution among the men. I asked him for a +piece. To do so on the Peninsula was like asking for gold, but he put +it in my mouth with a smile. Hoddinott and Pike, the stretcher +bearers, stopped just where the communication trench began. The doctor +had come up. He asked me where I was hit, and I told him. He examined +the bandages, and told the stretcher bearers to take me along to the +dressing station. Captain Alexander, my company commander, came along, +smiled at me, and wished me good-by. Hoddinott asked me if I wanted a +cigarette, and when I said, "Yes," placed one in my month and lit it +for me. I had never realized until then just how difficult it is to +smoke a cigarette without removing it from your mouth. Poor Stenlake, +who by this time was worn to a shadow, was in the support trench, +waiting with some other sick men, to go to hospital. He came along and +said good-by. A Red Cross man gave me a postcard to be sent to some +organization that would supply me with comforts while I was in +hospital. "You'll eat your Christmas dinner in London, old chap," he +said. + + [Illustration: A British battery at work on the Peninsula] + +We had to go two miles before the stretcher bearers could exchange the +blanket for the regular stretcher. The trenches were narrow, and on +one side a little ditch had been dug to drain them. The recent wet +weather had made the bottom of the trench very slippery, and every few +minutes one of the bearers would slide sideways and bring up in the +ditch. When he did the blanket swayed with him, and my shoulders +struck against the jagged limestone on the sides. To avoid this as +much as possible the bearers had to proceed very slowly. Those two +miles to me seemed endless. I had now become completely paralyzed, all +control of my muscles was gone, and I slipped about in the blanket. +Every few yards I would ask Hoddinott, "Is it very much farther?" and +every time he would turn around and grin cheerfully, and answer, as +one would answer a little child, "Not very much farther now, Gal." + +At last we emerged into a large wide communication trench, with the +landmarks of which I was familiar. I was suffering severely now, and +was beginning to worry over trifles. Suddenly it came to me that I +was still a couple of miles from the dressing station, and when we +came out of the communication trench on to open ground that had been +torn up by shrapnel, I was consumed with fear that at any moment I +might be hit by another shell, and might not get aboard the hospital +after all, for by this time my mind had centered on getting into a +clean bed. A dozen different thoughts chased through my mind. I was +grieved to think that in order to get at the wound it had been +necessary to cut the fine great-coat that I had so much wanted to take +home as a souvenir. I asked Hoddinott what they had done with it, and +he told me that part of it was under my head as a pillow, but that it +was so besmeared with blood that it would be thrown away as soon as I +arrived at the dressing station. From thinking of the great-coat, I +remembered that before I went out with the digging party I had taken +off my raincoat and left it near my haversack in the trench, and in +the pocket of it was the little diagram I had drawn of the position of +the sniper I had seen the night before. Again I called for Hoddinott, +and again he came, and answered me patiently and gently. "Yes, he +would tell Art about the little diagram." Where a fringe of low +bushes bordered the pathway at the end of the open space, Hoddinott +and Pike turned. For the distance of about a city block they carried +the stretcher along a road cut through thick jungle. At the end of it +stood a little post from which drooped a white flag with a red cross. +It was the end of the first stage for the stretcher bearers. A great +wave of loneliness swept over me when I realized that I was to see the +last of the men with whom I had gone through so much. I was almost +crying at the thought of leaving them there. Somehow or other it did +not seem right for me to go. I felt that in some way I was taking an +unfair advantage of them. Hoddinott and Pike slipped the straps from +their shoulders and lowered the stretcher gently. Under the blanket +Hoddinott sought my hand. "Good-by, Gal," he said. "Is there any +message I can take back to Art?" + +"Yes," I said, "tell him to keep my raincoat." + +Since the moment I had been hit, I had been afraid of one thing--that +I should break down, and not take my punishment like a man. I was +tensely determined that no matter how much I suffered I would not +whine or cry. In our regiment it had become a tradition that a man +must smile when he was wounded. One thing more than anything else +kept me firm in my determination. Art Pratt had walked just behind the +blanket until we came to the communication trench. Even then he was +loath to leave me. He could not trust himself to speak when I said, +"Good-by, Art, old pal." He grasped my hand, and holding it walked +along a few feet. Then he dropped my hand gently. There are some +things in life that stand out ineffably sweet and satisfying. For me +such a one was that last moment of farewell to Art. I had always +considered him the most fearless man in a regiment whose name was a +byword for reckless courage. Of all men on the Peninsula I valued his +opinion most. No recommendation for promotion, no award for valor, not +even the coveted V.C., could have been half so sweet as the few words +I heard Art say. With eyes shining, he turned to the man beside him +and said, almost savagely, "By God, he's a brick." + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +HOMEWARD BOUND + + +As soon as Hoddinott and Pike had left me, two other stretcher bearers +carried me about two hundred yards farther to a rough shelter made of +poles laid across supports composed of sandbags. This was the dressing +station. On top of the poles, sandbags made it impervious to overhead +shelling. On three sides it was closed in, but the side nearest the +beach was open. From where my stretcher was placed I could just catch +a glimpse of the AEgean Sea and of the ships. Men on stretchers were +lined up in rows on the ground. Here and there a man groaned, but most +of the men were gazing at the roof, with set faces. Some who were only +slightly wounded were sitting up on stretchers while Red Cross men +bandaged up their legs or feet. A doctor was working away methodically +and rapidly. A little to the right another shelter housed the men who +were being sent to hospital with dysentery, enteric, or typhoid. As +soon as I was brought in, the doctor came to me. "I'll do this one +right away," he said to one of his assistants. The assistant stripped +the blanket from me and cut off the portions of the blood-stained +shirt still remaining. As he did so, something dropped on the ground. +The Red Cross man picked it up. + +"Here's the bullet that hit you," he said, putting it beside me on the +stretcher. "It dropped out of your shirt. It just got through you and +stuck in your shirtsleeve." + +"You'd better get him a little bag to keep his things in," said the +doctor. + +The Red Cross man produced a bag, took my pay book, and everything he +found in my pocket, and put them in it, then tied them to the +stretcher. By this time I was ready for the doctor to begin work. That +doctor knew his business. In a very few minutes he had probed and cut +and cleaned the wound, and adjusted a new bandage. The bleeding had +stopped by this time. He asked me the circumstances of being hit. He +told me to grip his hand and squeeze. I tried it with my right hand +but could do nothing; then I tried the left hand and succeeded a +little better. The doctor looked grave when I failed to grip with my +right hand, but brightened a little when I gripped with my left. All +the time he talked to me genially. That did me nearly as much good as +the surgical attention he gave me. He was a Canadian, he told me. At +the outbreak of the war he had been taking post-graduate courses at +Cambridge University in England. The University sent several hospital +units to the front, and he had come with this one. He knew Canada and +the States pretty thoroughly. + +"Where do you come from?" he asked me. + +"Newfoundland," I told him. "But I live in the United States." + +"What part?" he asked. + +"Cambridge, Massachusetts," I told him. + +"Oh," he said, "that's where Harvard University is." + +"Yes," I said, "I was a student there when I enlisted." + +The doctor called to a couple of the Red Cross men. "Here's a chap +from Harvard University in Cambridge, over in the United States." The +two Red Cross men came and told me they were students at Cambridge. +They talked to me for quite a little while. Before they left me to +attend to some more wounded, they made me promise to ask to be sent to +Cambridge, England, to hospital. The University had established a very +large and thoroughly equipped hospital there. All I had to do, they +said, was tell the people that I had been a student at the other +Cambridge, and I should be an honored guest. They persisted in calling +Harvard, Cambridge, and when they went away said that they were +overjoyed to have seen a man from the sister university. + +The doctor came back in a few minutes. + +"How are you feeling now?" he said. + +"I feel pretty well now," I answered, "but it's very close in here +with all these wounded men, and the place smells of chloroform. Can't +I be moved outside?" + +"I'll move you outside if you say so," said the doctor, "but you're +taking a chance. Occasionally a stray shell comes over this way. The +Turks are trying to locate a battery close to this place. Sometimes a +shell bursts prematurely, and drops around here." + +On the Peninsula, officers who gave men leave to go on dangerous +missions salved their consciences by first warning the men that in +doing it "they were taking a chance." The caution had come to mean +nothing. + +"All right, doctor," I said. "I'll take a chance." + +Two stretcher bearers came, and lifted me outside the shelter, where +the wind blew, fresh and invigorating. Just as they turned, I heard +the old familiar shriek that signaled the coming of a shell. It burst +almost overhead. Most of the missiles it contained dropped on the +other side of the shelter, but a few tiny pieces flew in my direction. +Three of them hit me in the right arm, a fourth landed in my leg. + +"Is anybody hit?" yelled a Red Cross man, whose accent proclaimed him +as an inhabitant of the country north of the Clyde. + +"I've got a couple of splinters," I said. + +I was lifted inside quickly. The Scotchman who put on some bandages on +the little cuts looked at me accusingly. + +"Ye were warned, before ye went," he said. "Ye desairved it. But +then," he added, "ye might hae got it worse. Ye're lucky ye did not +get it in the guts." + +After a little while my arms and back began to ache violently. Two +Red Cross men came along and moved me to another shelter similar to +the first. This was the clearing station. From here motor ambulances +carried the wounded to the shore. I knew from the burring speech of +the big sergeant in charge that he hailed from Scotland. I asked him +where he came from, and he told me that he came from Inverness. + +"Our regiment trained near there for a while," I said. "They +garrisoned Fort George." + +"Ye'll no' be meanin' the Seaforth Highlanders, laddie," said he. + +"No," I said, "we're Newfoundlanders, the First Newfoundland +Regiment." + +"Oh, I ken ye well, noo," he said, gloomily. "Ye're a bad lot; it took +six policemen to arrest one o' your mob. On the Peninsula they call ye +the Never Failing Little Darlings." After that he thawed quite a +little. "I'll look at your wound noo, laddie," he said, after a few +minutes. "Ye're awfu' light, laddie," he said as he raised me. "Puir +laddie," he added, pityingly. "Puir laddie. Ye're stairved. I'll get +ye Queen Mary's ration." + +"What's Queen Mary's ration?" I asked. + +"'T's Queen Mary's gift to the wounded. I'll get it for ye right +away." He went outside the clearing station and returned in a few +minutes with a cup of warm malted milk. "'T will help ye some till ye +get aboard the hospital ship. Here's the ambulance noo." + +A fleet of motor ambulances swayed over the uneven ground and rolled +up close to the clearing station. The drivers and helpers began +loading the stretchers aboard and one by one started away. Before I +was put into one, the big Scotchman took a large syringe and injected +a strong dose of morphia into my chest. + +"Ye'll find it hard," he said, "bumping over the hill, but ye'll soon +be all right and comfortable." + +"Tell me," I said, "shall I get into a real bed on the ship?" + +He laughed. "Sure ye will, laddie. The best bed ye've had since ye've +been in the airmy. Good luck to ye, laddie." + +Each of the motor ambulances carried four men, two above and two +below. I was put on top, and the door flap pulled over. We jolted and +pitched and swayed. Once we turned short and skidded at a curve. I +knew just the very place, although it was dark in the ambulance. I +had gone over the road often with ration parties. Fortunately the +morphia was beginning to take effect, and dulled the pain to some +extent. At last the ambulance stopped, somebody pulled the curtain +back, and we were lifted out. We were on West Beach. A pier ran out +into the sea. A man-o'-war launch towing a string of boats glided in +near enough to let her first boat come close to the pier. The breeze +was quite fresh, and made me shiver. The stretchers were laid across +the boats, close to each other. Soon all the boats were filled. I +could see the man on the stretcher to the right of me, but the one on +the other side I could not see. I tried to turn my head but could not. +The eyes of the man next me were large with pain. I smiled at him, but +instead of smiling back at me, his lip curled resentfully, and he +turned over on his side so that he could face away from me. As he did, +the blanket slipped from his shoulder, and I saw on his shoulder strap +the star of a second lieutenant. I had committed the unpardonable sin. +I had smiled at an officer as if I had been an equal, forgetting that +he was not made of common clay. Once after that, when he turned his +head, his eyes met mine disdainfully. That time I did not smile. I +have often laughed at the incident since, but there on that boat I was +boiling with rage. Not a word had passed between us, but his +expression in turning away had been eloquent. I cursed him and the +system that produced him, and swore that never again would I put on a +uniform. Gradually I calmed down; the morphia had got in its work. In +a little while I had sunk into a comatose condition. I remember, in a +hazy sort of way, being taken aboard a large lighter. There were tiers +of stretchers on both sides. This time I was in the lower tier, and +was wondering how soon the man above me would fall on me. At last I +went to sleep. When I awoke, I was alone and in mid-air. All about me +was black. By that time I was completely paralyzed from the waist up. +I could see only directly above my head. It was night, and the sky was +dotted with twinkling stars. I could feel no movement, but the stars +came slowly nearer and nearer. "What was I doing here in mid-air?" +Subconsciously I thought of the body of Mohammed, suspended between +earth and heaven. Now I felt I had hit on the answer. I was going to +heaven, and the thought was very comforting. Suddenly the stars +stopped, and after a pause began receding. A face appeared above me, +then the head and shoulders of a man dressed in the uniform of a naval +officer. This suggested something else to me. The officers of the +Flying Corps wear naval uniforms. I decided that while I was asleep I +had been transferred to the Flying Corps. + +"Hello, old chap," said the naval officer. "Do you know where you +are?" + +"No," I said. "Am I going to heaven, or have I joined the Flying +Corps?" + +"No," said the officer. "You're on the stretcher being hoisted aboard +the hospital ship." + +Two big, strapping, bronzed sailors approached and lifted the +stretcher on to an elevator; they stepped on and the elevator +descended. We stopped at the end of a short white-walled passageway, +lighted by electricity. The sailors grasped the stretcher as lightly +as if it had been empty, walked along to the end of the passageway +into a ward. It had formerly been a dining saloon. Large square +windows looked out upon the sea, everything was white and clean and +orderly. After the dirt and filth of the Peninsula it was like a +beautiful dream. The sailors lifted me gently into a bed and stood +there waiting for orders from the nurse. As I looked at them I thought +of our boys standing in the trenches during a bombardment and yelling, +"Come on, the navy," and I murmured, "Come on, the navy;" and then +when I looked at the calm, self-possessed, capable-looking nursing +sister, moving about amongst the wounded, I said, and never had it +meant so much to me, "Good old Britain." + +The string of boats in which I had come was the batch that filled the +quota of the patients of the hospital ship. In about half an hour she +began to move. An orderly came around with meals. The doctor came in +after a little while and began examining the patients. From some part +of the ship not far from where I was came the sound of voices singing +hymns. It was the last touch needed to emphasize the difference +between the hospital ship and the Peninsula. Sunday evening on the +Peninsula had meant no more than any other. The ship moved along so +quietly that she seemed scarcely to stir. The doctor and the nurse +worked noiselessly; over everything hung the spirit of Sabbath calm. +Gallipoli might have been as far away as Mars. + + [Illustration: With the French at Seddel Bahr] + +It must have been about nine o'clock when an orderly came around +and turned out all the lights except a reading lamp over the desk +where the night sister sat. All that night I could not sleep. About +midnight the night sister gave me a sleeping draught, but it did no +good. I was suffering the most intense pain, but I was so glad to be +away from the dirt of the trenches that I felt nothing else counted. +The next day I was a great deal weaker, and could scarcely talk. When +the doctor came around to dress my wounds, I could only smile at him. +All that day the sister came to my bed at frequent intervals. I was +too weak then to eat. Two or three times she gave me some sort of +broth through a little feeding bowl. In the evening I had sunk into +apathy. The sister sent for the doctor. He came, felt my pulse, took +my temperature, then turned and whispered to the sister. She called an +orderly, and I heard her say, "Bring the screens for this man." The +orderly went away and in a few minutes returned with two screens large +enough to entirely conceal my bed. When the screens had been put in +position, the sister came in, wiped my mouth and forehead, and went +away. On the other side of the screen I heard her speaking softly to +the doctor. The whole thing seemed to me something entirely apart +from me. I felt that I was watching a scene in a play, and that I +found it of little interest. After about an hour the doctor and the +sister came in again. + +"Feeling all right, old man?" said the doctor. + +"Yes," I said. "Fine." + +"Sister," said the doctor, "give this man anything he wants." + +The sister bent over me. She was a woman between thirty and +thirty-five, of the type that inspires confidence; every word and +movement reflected poise, and there was a calmness and serenity about +her that you knew she could have acquired only as a result of having +seen and eased much human suffering. + +"If there is anything you would care to have, please ask for it, and +if it is at all possible we will get it for you," she said, in a +softly modulated voice, with the slightest suspicion of a drawl; it +was the voice of a cultivated English-woman; after the Peninsula, a +woman's voice was like a tonic. + +"Yes," I said, "I want chicken and wine." + +I had not the slightest desire for chicken and wine just then, but I +felt that I had to ask for something, and the best I could think of +was chicken and wine. She smiled at me, went away, and in about +fifteen minutes she returned with a little tray. She had brought the +chicken and wine. She had minced up the chicken, and she fed me little +pieces of it with a spoon. In a little cup with a spout she had the +wine. When I had eaten a little of the chicken, she put the spout +between my lips; I had expected some port wine, but when I tasted, it +was champagne. I drank it to the very last drop. + +"How do you feel now?" said the sister. + +"Never felt better," I answered. + +"That's very nice," she said. "I hope you'll get to sleep soon." + +Then she went away, and in a few minutes the night sister came on. She +peeped in at me, smiled, and went away. All that night I looked up at +a tiny spot on the ceiling. In the board directly above my eyes, there +was a curious knot. A little flaw ran across the center of it. It +reminded me of a postman carrying his bag of letters. It seemed to me +that night that I could stand the pain no longer. My back seemed to be +tearing apart, as if a man was pulling on each shoulder, trying to +separate them from the spine. I tried to jump up from the bed but +could not move a muscle. I felt that it would be better to tear my +back apart myself at once and have it over, but when I tried to move +my arms I found them useless. It must have been well into the morning +when the night sister came around again. The doctor was with her. He +had a large syringe in his hand. He said nothing. Neither did I. I +closed my eyes. I wanted to be alone. I felt him open my shirt at the +neck and rub some liquid on my chest. I opened my eyes. He was putting +the needle of the long-syringe into my chest where he had rubbed it +with iodine. The skin was leathery and at first the needle would not +penetrate. At last it went in with a rush. It seemed at least a foot +long. He rubbed another spot, and plunged the needle in a second time. +"We've got to get him asleep," he said to the night sister. "If he's +not asleep in an hour, call me again." Very soon a drowsiness crept +over me. Nothing seemed to matter. I wanted to rest. In a short time I +was asleep. When I woke, it was broad daylight. The day sister was +standing by my bed, smiling. She turned around and beckoned to some +one. The doctor came close to the bed, felt my pulse, took my +temperature again, and smiled. "Quite all right, sister," he said. + +An orderly came in, lifted me up in bed, washed my face and hands, and +brought in a tray with chicken. There was the same little feeding cup. +This time it had port wine in it. The orderly propped me up in bed, +putting cushions carefully behind my back and shoulders. The sister +and the doctor superintended while he was doing it. Lifting a wounded +man is a science. An unskilful person, no matter how well intentioned, +may sometimes do incalculable damage. Putting a strain on the wrong +muscle may undo the work of the doctor. I could see out one of the +large windows now, and I noticed that we were passing a good many +ships, mostly vessels of war. They seemed to increase in number every +few minutes; and by the time I had finished breakfast, we were in the +midst of a forest of funnels and rigging. Soon the engines stopped. +When the doctor came around to dress my back, I asked him where we +were. + +"We're in Alexandria, now," he said. "In an hour's time we'll have +unloaded. You're the last patient to be dressed. We're doing you last +so that you won't have so long to wait before the bandages are +changed." + +"Doctor," I asked, "how long will it be before this wound gets +better?" + +"I don't know," he said. "It's impossible to tell until you've been +X-rayed. Last night we were certain you were dying, but this morning +you are perfectly normal." + +In a short time the ward filled with men from the shore, landing +officers, orderlies with messages, sergeants in charge of ambulance +corps, and an army of stretcher bearers. The orderlies of the hospital +ship began putting out the kits of the wounded at the foot of their +beds. The disembarkation began as soon as the doctor had completed his +dressing. I was propped up in bed, and could see a long line of motor +ambulances on the pier. The less seriously wounded cases were taken +off first. The sister told me that these were going by train to Cairo. +Those who could not stand the train journey were going to different +hospitals in Alexandria. I was to go to Alexandria, she said. A +middle-aged man passed us on a stretcher. He was hit in the leg, and +sat on the stretcher, smiling contentedly, and looking about him +interestedly. When he saw the sister, his eyes lighted up. + +"Good-by, sister," he shouted. "I'll see you again, the next time I'm +wounded." + +The sister returned his good-by. Then she turned to me, and said: +"That man was on the hospital train that left Antwerp the day the +Germans shelled it in 1914. When he came in the other night I didn't +recognize him, but he remembered me." + +While I waited for my turn the sister told me that she had been in the +first batch of nurses to cross the Channel at the beginning of the +war. She had been in the hospitals in Belgium that were shelled by the +Germans. At eight o'clock in the morning she had left Antwerp on the +last hospital train, and at nine o'clock the Germans occupied the +town. She had been on different hospital ships and trains ever since. +Once only had she had a rest. That was some time in the summer of +1915. She expected a week off in London at Christmas, when the ship +she was now attached to laid up for repairs. The boat I was on, she +said, carried ordinarily seven hundred and fifty wounded. At present +she carried nine hundred. They generally arrived in Suvla Bay in the +morning, and left that night, filled with wounded. At the time of the +first landing at Anzac an hour after the assault began they left with +twelve hundred wounded Australians. The sisters were sent out from a +central depot in England, and went to the various fronts. When the +stretcher bearers came to take me away, the sister gathered up my +belongings in a little bag, tied it to the stretcher, put a pillow +under my head, and nodded a bright good-by. + + [Illustration: Underwood & Underwood, N.Y. + Where troops landed in Dardanelles showing Fort Sed-ne-behi + battered to pieces by Allied Fleet] + +The stretcher bearers, two stalwart Australians, took me to the +elevator, across the deck, and out onto the pier. It was now getting +toward evening. A lady stopped the stretcher between the pier and the +ambulance, and handed one of the bearers a little white packet +containing a towel, soap, tooth-brush and tooth-powder. Without +waiting to be thanked she went on to intercept another stretcher. The +stretcher bearer put the package under my pillow. "Ready, Bill," said +one of the bearers with the nasal twang of the Bushman. "Lift away," +said Bill, and they lifted the stretcher up on the top tier of the +ambulance wagon, without stepping up from the ground. They did it with +the same motion as when two men swing a bag of grain. But it was +not in the least uncomfortable for me. These Australian stretcher +bearers who meet the incoming hospital ships are amazingly strong. +There is an easy gracefulness in the way they swing along with a +stretcher that makes you trust them. I was the last man to go in that +ambulance wagon, and in a few minutes we were whirling smoothly along +good roads amid the familiar smells of Egyptian bazaars. This +ambulance drive was a good deal different from the one on the +Peninsula just after I had been wounded. After about half an hour the +ambulance swerved off the smooth asphalt road onto a gravel road, +slowed down, and ran into a yard. The Australians reappeared, opened +the flaps, and began unloading. We were in the square of a large +hospital. All around us were buildings. A fine-looking, bronzed man, +with the uniform of a colonel, was directing some Sikhs who were +carrying the stretchers from the ambulances into the different +buildings. All the stretchers were lying on the ground in a long row. +As soon as each one was inspected by the colonel, he told the +stretcher bearers where to take it. When he came to mine, he said, +"Dangerously wounded, Ward three." Then, to the stretcher bearers, +"Careful, very careful." + +Ward three was a long ward with stone floor and plaster walls; it +contained about fifty beds. More than half of the beds had little +"cradles" at the foot; when I came to know hospitals, I learned that +these were to prevent the bedclothes from irritating wounded legs. In +a few minutes a doctor came around, gave orders, and the night sister +began bandaging up the wounds of the men who had come in. The sister +who arranged my bandages was Scotch, and the burr of her speech was +pleasant in my ears. She came back about ten o'clock and gave me a +sleeping potion. The change from the hospital ship must have been too +much excitement for me, because I could not get asleep that night. But +I did not feel as I had felt on the hospital ship. I have very seldom +experienced such joy as I did that night when I found that I could +move my head. I did it very slowly, and with great pain, and rested a +long time before I tried to turn it back again. The door was right +opposite my bed. I could see the sand shining white in the moonlight +in the square, and right ahead of me a large marquee where, I found +out later, some of the convalescent men slept. A man about four beds +away from mine was dying. When I had first come in he had been +groaning at intervals, but now he was silent. About one or two o'clock +an orderly came running softly in rubber-soled shoes to tell the +sister that the man had died. Half an hour later two men with a +particularly long stretcher, appeared in the ward. They stepped +quietly, trying not to disturb the sleepers. I saw them walk along to +the bed of the dead man, and go in behind the screen. After a little +while the ward orderly moved the screens back, and the stretcher +bearers reappeared. Over the burden on the stretcher was draped a +Union Jack. Often after that while I was in Ward three I saw the same +soft-stepping men come in at night and depart silently with the +flag-draped stretcher. Many of the wounded left the ward in that way, +but their places were soon filled by incoming wounded. + +The first morning I was in Ward three the doctor ordered me to be +X-rayed. The X-ray apparatus was in another building. To get to it I +had to pass through the square. The sun was too hot in the morning for +us to cross the square. We therefore skirted it under the shade of +the long portico that runs along the outside of nearly all buildings +in Egypt. In beds outside the building were men with dysentery. At the +corner of the square a plank gangway led to the quarters of the +enteric patients. Just before I reached the X-ray room, a man hailed +me from one of the beds. It was Tom Smythe, a boy I had known since I +was able to walk. All the time I had been on the Peninsula I had not +seen him, nor had I heard any news of him. On the way back from the +X-ray room, the stretcher bearers stopped near his bed while I talked +with him. He had been in the hospital about two weeks, he said, and +hoped to get to England on the next boat. He promised to come to see +me in my ward as soon as he was allowed up. The next day he came, +although he was not supposed to be up, and brought with him a chap +named Varney. Varney had been in the section next mine at Stob's Camp +in Scotland, he told me. Smythe and Varney vied with each other after +that in trying to make me comfortable. To me that has always been the +most remarkable thing about our regiment: their loyalty to a comrade +in trouble. I have known Newfoundlanders to fight with each other, +using every weapon from profanity to tent mallets while in camp; on +the Peninsula I have seen these same men carrying each other's packs, +digging dugouts, and taking the other man's fatigue work. Varney was +very much distressed to see the condition I was in. He knew I was fond +of reading, and searched all over the place for books and magazines. +Once he brought me three American magazines, one _Saturday Evening +Post_ and two _Munsey's_. They were nearly two years old, but I read +them as eagerly as if they had just been published. + +During the six weeks I was in hospital in Alexandria, I improved +wonderfully. The doctor in charge of the ward took a special interest +in my progress, and seemed to pride himself on having handled the case +successfully. Every day or so he brought in a doctor from some other +ward to show him my wounds and the X-ray plates. He was very careful +and tried in dressing to cause me as little pain as possible. "Poor +old chap," he would say, when he saw me wince, "poor old chap." I +think there was a great deal of psychology in my getting well. In this +Twenty-first General Hospital nothing was omitted that could make one +comfortable. Every morning an orderly washed me. The orderlies were +all very considerate, except one. He did not last very long in our +ward. He began washing the patients at four o'clock in the morning. He +always made me think of a hostler washing a carriage. When he had +washed my arms he always let them drop in a way that reminded me of +the shafts of a wagon. He was soon replaced by a chap who did not +begin his work until seven. At eight we had breakfast: fruit, cereal, +and eggs. At eleven we had soda water and crackers or sweet biscuits. +At one came dinner: soup, chicken, and vegetables, half a chicken to +each man, with a dessert of pudding or custard. At four we had tea, +with fish, and at eight came supper: cocoa and bread and butter, with +jelly. In the morning visitors came in and brought us the daily +papers. Sisters of the V.A.D.--Voluntary Aid Detachment--came in each +afternoon to relieve the regular nursing sisters. They were mostly +Englishwomen resident in Egypt. Most of their men folks were at one of +the fronts. They read to the men who could not hold books in their +hands, talked to us cheerfully, and wrote letters for us. Some of them +brought us little delicacies: grapes and chocolate. Men in hospital +have no money. Any money they have is taken away when they arrive and +refunded when they leave. Like most of the rules in the army to-day, +this was made for the old regulars. When the regulars felt they needed +a rest they went into hospital; the only way they could be stopped was +to keep all their money away from them. To-day two million men suffer +as a result. Ever since the day I left the Peninsula I had wanted +chocolate. But I had no money, and for a long time I had to go without +it. At last young Varney got me some. He had gone errands for a +wounded Australian, who had been given some money from outside, and +the Australian had given him some; he could hardly wait to get to me +with it. + +As soon as a man was sufficiently recovered to travel, he was sent to +England. New men were always coming in to take the places of the old. +A lot of them were Australians. I kept asking them all as they came in +if they could tell me anything of my friend White George. Of course a +nickname is very little to go on. A man who was White George in one +part of the trench might be Queensland Harry in another. All I knew +about him was that he was in the Fifteenth Battalion, and that he had +a beard. At last a chap did come in one evening from the Fifteenth +Battalion. I was in bed at the time, and could not get a chance to ask +him about White George. The next day the poor chap was writhing and +screaming in the terrible spasms of tetanus, and for two days the +screens were around his bed. On the third day he was better. As soon +as Varney came in, he wheeled me up to the Australian's bed. I asked +him what was the matter with him, and he told me that he had a flesh +wound in the head that didn't bother him, but that his left leg was +off at the knee. + +"Are you from the Fifteenth Battalion?" I asked. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Do you know a chap in that battalion," I said, "that they call White +George?" + +The wounded Australian looked at me in a quizzical way. Then he +drawled slowly, "Well, I think I do. Why, damn it, man, I'm White +George." + +Then he recognized me. "Why, it's the Newfoundland Corporal. Hello, +Corporal. You're just the man I wanted to see," he said. "I stood on +that bomb all right, and got away with it--once. When I tried it a +second time, I put the bomb on the firing platform, and when I +stepped on it, my head was over the parapet; Johnny Turk got me in the +head, and the bomb did the rest." + +"Don't you wish now you hadn't tried the experiment?" I said. + +"No," said White George, "I feel perfectly satisfied." + +"By the way," I said, as I was leaving him, "why do they call you +White George? Your hair is dark." + +"My real name," he said, "is George White, but on the regimental roll +it reads 'White, George.'" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +"FEENISH" + + +It must have been about the sixth week that I was in Egypt that one of +the Australians came over to my bed and told me that my name was on +the list of men to go to England by the next boat. I was allowed up +for two hours in the afternoon; and when I got up I looked at the +list, and found my name there. An orderly from the stores came in and +asked me for a list of clothing I needed. He came back in about an +hour with a complete uniform and kit. The sister told me that I was to +go to England the next morning. At ten o'clock the next day I was +taken out to the little clearing station in the square, and put in +with a lot of other men on stretchers. An officer came around and +inspected our kits. A little later a sergeant from the pay office gave +each man an advance of twelve shillings. After that the loading began. +A line of about twenty ambulances filed out of the yard and through +the malodorous byways of Alexandria to the waterfront. Here we were +put aboard the hospital ship _Rewa_, an old rocky tub that had been an +Indian troopship before the war. I learned this from an old English +regular in the stretcher next me. He had seen her often before, and +had made a trip from England to India in her once. The _Rewa_ was so +full of men that the latest arrivals had to go on deck in hammocks. +The thought of a trip across the Bay of Biscay as deck passenger on +the _Rewa_ was not very attractive, but our fears on this point were +soon allayed by one of the ship's officers. We were not going to +England on the _Rewa_, he said. We were going to Lemnos Island, and in +Mudros Bay we should transship into the _Aquitania_. When we had +cleared Alexandria Harbor, the wind had freshened considerably. All +that night and the next day we pitched and rolled heavily. The second +night, when we had expected to reach Mudros Bay, we were still +twenty-four hours away from it. Canvas sheets had to be rigged above +the bulwarks to prevent the spray from drenching the men in the +stretchers on deck. The next day a good many men were sea sick, and it +was not till the next evening that the storm abated. Even then it was +too rough to get close to the big ship. We did try to get near her +once, and succeeded in getting one hawser fast, but the wind and tide +drove us so hard against her, that the captain of the _Aquitania_ +would take no more risks and ordered us off. We had to lay to all that +evening, and the next morning. At noon the wind died down enough to +begin the transshipment from the smaller ships. We waited while seven +other hospital ships transferred their human freight, and then moved +up near enough to put gangways between the two boats. The change was +effected very expeditiously. We were soon transferred, and settled in +our new quarters. I was in a ward with some Australian troops on the +top deck. Board petitions had been run up from it to the promenade +deck, making a long bright, well ventilated corridor. There was only +one drawback on the _Aquitania_. The sister in charge of our ward did +not like Colonials, and made it pretty plain. She was rather a +superior person who did not like to dress wounds. We were to make two +stops before we arrived in England, I was told; one at Salonica to +take on some sick, the other at Naples for coal. The Salonica stop +took place at night. We did not go into the harbor; probably it was +not deep enough for the _Aquitania_. The sick were taken aboard +outside. We came to Naples early one fine Sunday morning. As we went +into the harbor, I could see through the window Mt. Vesuvius, smoking +steadily. We were in Naples at the same time as the big _Olympic_, and +the _Mauretania_, the sister ship of the _Lusitania_. It was the time +that the Germans had protested that the British hospital ships carried +troops to the Dardanelles on the return trip. The neutral consuls in +Naples went aboard the _Olympic_ and _Mauretania_ that Sunday and +investigated. The charge, of course, was unfounded. An Italian general +and his staff came aboard our ship and were shown around the wards. He +was a dapper little man, who gesticulated vehemently and bowed to all +the sisters. The sister who did not like Colonials was speaking to him +when he came through our ward. She was trying to impress him with the +excellent treatment our wounded received. She pointed out each man to +him, in the same way a keeper does at the zoological gardens. + +"They get this every evening," she said, indicating the supper we were +eating. "And what is this?" she said, looking at some apricot jam on +a saucer on my bed. + +"Apricot jam, sister," I said, then added sweetly, in my best society +fashion, "We get it every evening." I might have told her that I had +had it not only every evening, but every noon and morning while I was +on the Peninsula. + +"And what is this?" she said, pointing to the cup in my hand. "Is it +tea or cocoa?" + +"It's tea," I said. "We get it every evening,--just as if we were +human beings, and not Colonials." After that I think she liked +Colonials even less. + +The Bay of Biscay was just a little rough when we went through it, but +it did not affect the _Aquitania_ very much. + +When the word went around on the day that land had been sighted, every +man that could hobble went on deck to get a first glimpse of England. +We could not see very far because of the thick mist of an English +December. About ten o'clock we were at the entrance to Southampton, +but the tide was out, or the chief engineer was out, so we could not +go up until that evening. That last day was a tedious one. Every one +was eager to get ashore. To most of the men, England was home; and +after the trenches and the hospitals, home meant much. + +As soon as we landed, a train took us to a place near London. It was +twenty-five miles from the hospital that was our destination. Here we +were met by automobiles that took us to the hospital for +Newfoundlanders at Wandsworth Common, London. There were only half a +dozen of us from Newfoundland. At first the doctor on the _Aquitania_ +persisted in calling us Canadians, and wanted to send us to +Walton-on-Thames. It took us two hours to convince him that +Newfoundland had no connection with Canada. Two automobiles were +enough for our little party. The man who drove me in told me that he +had come a hundred miles to do it. All the automobiles that met the +hospital trains were loaned by people who wanted to do whatever they +could to help the cause. He was a dairy farmer, he said, and gave me +uninteresting statistical information about cows and the amount of +milk he sold in London each day. But apart from that, I enjoyed the +smooth drive over the faultless roads. + +The Third London hospital at Wandsworth Common is a military hospital; +and although the discipline is strict, everything possible is done +for the comfort of the patients. Concerts are given every few +evenings; almost every afternoon people send around automobiles to +take the wounded men for a drive. Twice a week visitors come in for +three hours in the afternoon. At Wandsworth I stayed only a very few +days. Two days before Christmas I was sent to Esher to the +convalescent home run by the V.A.D. Sisters. Nobody at this hospital +received any remuneration. Esher is in Surrey, not many miles from +London. Even in the winter the weather was pleasant. Here we had a +great deal of liberty, being allowed out all day until six at night. +Only thirty men were in Esher at one time. The hospital contained a +piano, victrola, pool table, and materials for playing all sorts of +games. At Esher one felt like an individual, and not like a cog in a +machine. Paddy Walsh, the corporal, who had hesitated so long about +leaving me on the Peninsula, was at Esher when I arrived. He was +almost well now, he told me, and was looking forward to a furlough. +After his furlough he was going back, he said, in the first draft. "No +forming fours for me, around Scotland," said Walsh, "drilling a bunch +of rookies. I want to get back with the boys." + +After two weeks, Esher closed for repairs. We all went back to the +hospital at Wandsworth. News had just come of the evacuation of the +Peninsula. In the ward I was sent to were half a dozen of our boys. I +asked them what was the trouble, and they told me frozen feet. "Frozen +feet," I said, "in Gallipoli? You're joking." They assured me that +they were not and referred me to their case sheets that hung beside +the beds. Shortly before the evacuation a storm had swept over the +Peninsula. First it had rained for two days, the third day it snowed, +and the next it froze. A torrent of water had poured down the mountain +side, flooding the trenches, and carrying with it blankets, +equipments, rifles, portions of the parapet, and the dead bodies of +men who had been drowned while they were sleeping. The men who were +left had to forsake their trenches and go above ground. Turks and +British alike suffered. The last day of the storm, while some of our +men were waiting on the beach to be taken to the hospital ship, they +told me they saw the bodies of at least two thousand men, frozen to +death. Our regiment stood it perhaps better than any of the others. It +was the sort of climate they were accustomed to. The Australasians +suffered tremendously. I met one man who had been on the Peninsula +during the evacuation. They had got away with the loss of two men +killed and one wounded for the entire British force. The papers that +day said that the Turks claimed to have driven the entire British army +into the sea, and to have gained an immense amount of booty. The booty +gained, our men said, was bully beef and biscuits. Far from being +driven into the sea, the British got off in two hours without the +Turks suspecting at all; and it was not till the second day after that +the Turks really found out. It had taken a great deal of ingenuity to +devise a scheme that would let the evacuation take place secretly. The +distance from the shore was about four miles. As soon as the troops +knew they were to leave, they ripped up the sand bags on the parapets, +and broke the glass in the periscopes, so they would be useless to the +enemy. Then they attached the broken periscopes to the parapets, so +that the Turks looking over would see the periscopes above the trench, +just as they would any ordinary day at the front. Only one problem +remained unsolved. As soon as the Turks heard the firing cease +entirely, they would think something was not as it should be. If they +began to investigate before the troops got away, it might mean +annihilation. At first it was planned to leave a small party scattered +through the trenches, but this meant that they would have to be +sacrificed in order to allow their comrades to escape. An Australian +devised a scheme. He took a number of rifles, placed them at different +points along the parapets, and lashed them to it. In each one he put a +cartridge. From the trigger he suspended a bully beef tin, weighted +with sand. This was not quite heavy enough to pull the trigger. On top +of the rifle he placed another tin, filled with water, and pierced a +small hole in the bottom of it. After a while the water, dripping +slowly from the top tin, made the lower one heavy enough to pull the +trigger. Some of the tins were heavier than the others, and the rifles +did not all go off at once. As soon as things were ready, the troops +moved off silently, "Just as if they were going into dugouts," Art +Pratt wrote me. They got aboard the warships waiting for them in the +bay, and went to Mudros and Imbros. The evacuation was facilitated by +the fact that the Salt Lake that had been dried up when I was there +was swollen high by the rain of the previous weeks. All that night the +firing continued at intervals, and kept up all through the next day. +The Turks, taking the usual cautious survey of the enemy trenches, +saw, as they did every other day, periscopes sticking up over the +parapets and heard the ordinary reports of rifle fire; to them it +looked like what the official reports call a "quiet day on the Eastern +front." + +One other item of news I received that pleased me very greatly. Art +Pratt had taken my place as corporal of the section, and had sent me +word that he had got the sniper who shot me. + +After I had been back in the Wandsworth Common hospital a few days, I +was "boarded." That is, I was sent up to be examined by a board of +doctors. They found me "unfit for further service," and I was sent to +my depot in Scotland for disposal. The next day I was given all my +back pay and took the train for Ayr, Scotland. There I was given my +discharge "in consequence of wounds received in action in Gallipoli." +Major Whitaker, the officer in charge, paused and looked at me, while +he was signing the discharge paper. + +"I imagine," he said, "you feel rather sorry that you caught that +train, Corporal." + +"What train is that, sir?" I said. + +"The one at Aldershot," he answered, as he completed his signature. I +smiled noncommittally, but did not answer him. + +Looking back now it seems to me that catching that train is one thing +I have never regretted. I was convinced of it that day in Ayr. For a +few weeks past convalescents of the First Battalion had been dribbling +into Ayr. You could tell them by their wan, fever-wasted faces, and by +the little ribbons of claret and white that they wore on the sleeves +of their coats, the claret and white that marked them as the "service +battalion." And there was in their faces, too, the calm, confident +look of men who had hobnobbed with death, and had come away unafraid. +Every one of them had the same tale. "We're tired of the depot +already. They're a new bunch here, and we want to get back with the +crowd we know." There was no talk of patriotism, or duty; all this had +given place to the pride of local achievement. To those men, my little +claret and white ribbon was all the introduction I needed. I was a +member of the First Battalion. As I hobbled along the main street of +Ayr, a crowd of them bore down on me. A heterogeneous bunch they were, +bored to death with the quietness of the Scottish town, shouting +boisterous greetings long before they reached me. The lot of us took +dinner together and afterwards went in a body to the theater. The +theater proprietor refused unconditionally to take any money from us. +We were "returned wounded," and the best seats in the house were ours. +Four or five of our party had just returned from Edinburgh, where they +had spent their furloughs. They had been received royally. The civic +authorities had made arrangements with the owners of the Royal Hotel +in Edinburgh to put the Newfoundlanders up free of cost during their +stay. The First Battalion had spent their money freely while they were +garrisoning Edinburgh Castle, and the authorities had not forgotten +it. + +I hated to leave those men of the First Battalion, who welcomed me so +heartily. I was glad at the thought of getting back to the States +again; but it was strange to think that I was no longer a soldier, +that my days of fighting were over. An inexpressible sadness came over +me as I bade good-by to them. Some of their names I do not know, but +they were all my friends. There are others like them in various +hospitals in England and Egypt; and also in a shady, tree-dotted +ravine on the Peninsula of Gallipoli there is a row of graves, where +also are my friends of the First Newfoundland Regiment. + +The men our regiment lost, although they gladly fought a hopeless +fight, have not died in vain. Constantinople has not been taken, and +the Gallipoli campaign is fast becoming a memory, but things our men +did there will not soon be forgotten. The foremost advance on the +Suvla Bay front is Donnelly's Post on Caribou Ridge, made by the +Newfoundlanders. It is called Donnelly's Post because it is here that +Lieutenant Donnelly won his Military Cross. The hitherto unknown ridge +from which the Turkish machine guns poured their concentrated death +into our trenches stands as a monument to the initiative of the +Newfoundlanders. It is now Caribou Ridge as a recognition of the men +who wear the deer's head badge. From Caribou Ridge the Turks could +enfilade parts of our firing line. For weeks they had continued to +pick off our men one by one. You could almost tell when your turn was +coming. I know, because from Caribou Ridge came the bullet that sent +me off the Peninsula. The machine guns on Caribou Ridge not only swept +part of our trench, but commanded all of the intervening ground. This +ground was almost absolutely devoid of cover. Several attempts had +been made to rush those guns. All these attacks had failed, held up by +the murderous machine-gun fire. Whole companies had essayed the task, +but all had been repulsed, and almost annihilated. It remained for +Lieutenant Donnelly to essay the impossible. Under cover of darkness, +Lieutenant Donnelly, with only eight men, surprised the Turks in the +post that now bears his name. The captured machine gun he turned on +the Turks to repulse constantly launched bomb and rifle attacks. Just +at dusk one evening Donnelly stole out to Caribou Ridge and took the +Turks by storm. They had been accustomed before that to see large +bodies of men swarm over the parapet in broad daylight, and had been +able to wipe them out with machine-gun fire. All that night the Turks +strove to recover their lost ground. The darkness that confused the +enemy was the Newfoundlanders' ally. One of Donnelly's men, Jack +Hynes, crawled away from his companions to a point about two hundred +yards to the left. All through the night he poured a rapid stream of +fire into the flank of the enemy's attacking party. So steadily did he +keep it up that the Turks were deluded into thinking we had men there +in force. When reinforcements arrived, Donnelly's eight men were +reduced to two. Dawn showed the havoc wrought by the gallant little +group. The ground in front of the post was a shambles of piled up +Turkish corpses. But daylight showed something more to the credit of +the Newfoundlanders than the mere taking of the ridge. It showed Jack +Hynes purposely falling back over exposed ground to draw the enemy's +attention from Sergeant Greene, who was coolly making trip after trip +between the ridge and our lines, carrying a wounded man in his arms +every time until all our wounded were in safety. Hynes and Greene were +each given a Distinguished Conduct Medal. None was ever more nobly +earned. + +The night the First Newfoundland Regiment landed in Suvla Bay there +were about eleven hundred of us. In December when the British forces +evacuated Gallipoli, to our regiment fell the honor of being nominated +to fight the rearguard action. This is the highest recognition a +regiment can receive; for the duty of a rear guard in a retreat is to +keep the enemy from reaching the main body of troops, even if this +means annihilation for itself. At Lemnos Island the next day when the +roll was called, of the eleven hundred men who landed when I did, only +one hundred and seventy-one answered "Here." + +After the First Newfoundland Regiment left the Peninsula, they went to +Egypt to guard the Suez Canal from the long-expected attack of the +Turks. After they had been rested a little while, they were recruited +up to full fighting strength, again, and were sent to France. In the +recent drive of the Allies against the German positions on the Somme, +the regiment has won for itself fresh laurels. The "Times" +correspondent at British headquarters in France sent the following on +July 13th: + +"The Newfoundlanders were the only overseas troops engaged in these +operations. The story of their heroic part cannot yet be told in full, +but when it is it will make Newfoundland very proud. The battalion was +pushed up as what may be called the third wave in the attack on +probably the most formidable section of the whole German front through +an almost overwhelming artillery fire and a cross-ground swept by an +enfilading machine-gun fire from hidden positions. The men behaved +with completely noble steadiness and courage." + +THE END + + + * * * * * + + +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ + | Typographical errors corrected in text: | + | | + | List of Illustrations: Suddul Bahr replaced with Seddel Bahr | + | Page 3: unneccessary replaced with unnecessary | + | Page 115: nothng replaced with nothing | + | Page 129: "who had been listening to discussion joined in." | + | replaced with | + | "who had been listening to the discussion joined in." | + | Page 136: three-o three replaced with three-o-three | + | Page 146: guerilla replaced with guerrilla | + | Page 171: "some one one" replaced with "some one" | + | Page 208: penerate replaced with penetrate | + | Page 217: litle replaced with little | + | Page 233: parapest replaced with parapets | + | | + | Note that the word 'Turrk' as seen in Irish dialog has been | + | retained as dialect. | + | | + +-----------------------------------------------------------------+ + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Trenching at Gallipoli, by John Gallishaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRENCHING AT GALLIPOLI *** + +***** This file should be named 35119.txt or 35119.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/5/1/1/35119/ + +Produced by Jeannie Howse and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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