Midsummer at Anzac.
The most debated area in Anzac was that narrow strip of No Man's Land
opposite Quinn's and Courtney's Posts, at the head of Monash Gully. The
post on the other side of Courtney's was Steel's Post, just opposite
which was the Turkish work known as German Officers' Trench. Hereabouts
the front lines were a little farther apart. The Turk took advantage
of this by bringing artillery fire to bear on Steel's and sometimes on
Courtney's. Many were the anxious moments when the firing persisted
a little longer than usual, as the garrisons could not help being a
little apprehensive for the safety of their posts perched so perilously
on the crest line.
[Illustration: THE FLY NUISANCE.
Flies, unlike men, love light rather than darkness. The wise soldier
aired his blankets during the day and so kept the flies out while he
snatched a little rest before going on work or watch. ]
The lines were so close together opposite Quinn's Post that neither
side could afford to try the effect of artillery on the front-line
trenches. This was fortunate, for a few well-aimed high explosive
shells might have tumbled the whole structure into Monash Gully. But
what Quinn's lacked in artillery duels, it more than made up for with
its hand-grenade fights. Here, in common with the rest of No. 3 and No.
4 Sections, the enemy held the higher ground. Every day and every night
a hail of cricket-ball bombs descended on the fire trenches, those
falling in the communication trenches bounding merrily down hill until
brought to rest by a traverse. Aeroplanes came over now and again,
ineffectually dropping bombs and little steel darts. Whatever their
lying propaganda boasted, their airmen never registered a hit on post
or pier.
Mining at Quinn's Post.
Quinn's had a fatal fascination for the Turk. During May the enemy
commenced mining in earnest, and this was a serious menace to the
safety of the Anzac area. Successful underground operations by the
enemy would mean that Quinn's might slide down into Monash Gully,
so vigorous counter-mining was resorted to. Galleries were driven
out under the front-line trenches; T-heads were put on to each
gallery--these heads connected up made a continuous underground gallery
right round the front of the post. Using this as a base, protective
galleries were driven out in the direction of the advancing tunnels of
the Turk. The object of this counter-mining was to get under or near
the opponent's drives, and destroy them by means of small charges,
calculated to break in their tunnels, but not to make a crater in No
Man's Land above.
In those early days, sensitive listening appliances were not available.
Underground it is very difficult to estimate the distance away of
sounds recognized, for even old coal miners have little experience
of parties working towards them. In constructing railway tunnels,
the engineers working from both ends have the data referring to both
drives. But in military mining the work of the enemy is shrouded in
the "fog of war," so mining under these conditions is a most exciting
process. Having driven the estimated distance to meet the enemy, the
question constantly arises, "Will it pay us now to fire a camouflet?"
The knowledge that the enemy is very likely considering the same
question adds a little to the tension. Then the listener reports that
the enemy has ceased working. "Has he gone for his explosive, or is
he only changing shift?" These and countless other speculations are
constantly being made by the miner of either side. Each hesitates to
fire his charge too early, as it may not achieve the maximum result.
But if one waits too long the enemy will achieve that maximum! So both
sides speculate until one makes a decision, which is announced to the
opponents by a stunning explosion and a blinding crash if the effort is
successful.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
IN MONASH GULLY: THE HEADQUARTERS OF NO. 3 DEFENCE SECTION.]
Twice Turkish tunnels had been detected nearing our lines. These were
destroyed by small charges sufficient to break them down, for we could
not afford to use a heavy charge, as it might threaten the stability of
the hillside.
The Death of Major Quinn.
But at 3.20 on the morning of May 29, an ear-splitting explosion
brought everyone in Monash Gully to his feet. A mine had wrecked No.
3 Subsection in Quinn's Post. Instantly, the musketry and bomb duel
burst into life. Flashes of flame ran round the enemy's trenches and
ours. The bursting of enemy shells fitfully illuminated Monash Gully.
The detonations of hand-grenades, the bursts of machine-gun fire, the
spluttering of musketry, the crashes of shrapnel and high explosive
thundered round and round the head of Monash Gully, echoing and
re-echoing in the myriad cliffs and valleys. In the confusion, a party
of about twenty Turks rushed our front trenches. At last an effort was
being made to break the Anzac line. As No. 3 Subsection was blown in,
the men in No. 4 Subsection were cut off from Subsections 1 and 2, but
all held stubbornly on. Reinforcements hurrying up to the stricken post
could see, by the light of the bursting shells, the garrison clinging
doggedly to the hillside. Some of the men off duty quickly clambered up
the break-neck tracks. Led by the gallant Major Quinn, the defenders
pushed forward in short rushes until they were once again sheltering in
the broken front-line trench of Subsection 3. The party of Turks were
now isolated within the post; barricading both ends of their little
section of trench, they clung to the shelter of the traverse and
recess. It was now breaking dawn. The machine guns on Russell's Top and
Pope's Hill swept the region in the front of Quinn's with a devastating
enfilade fire; but showers of bombs indicated that the Turk was still
close up to the post. Major Quinn, realizing what his post meant to
Anzac, warned his men for a counterattack. Presently, the observers
on Pope's and Plugge's Plateau saw the little band clamber on to the
parapet, and with bayonet and bomb hurl themselves into the enemy's
ranks, which momentarily wavered, then broke and fled. Back filtered
the garrison, to realize that their beloved leader was mortally
wounded, killed in the defence of the post that bore his immortal name.
The Turks did not attack again. Anzac was still intact. But imprisoned
in our lines were sixteen brave Turks, who, in the confusion after
the explosion, had stormed our front-line trench. They could not
be reached by bombs, but an enterprising soldier persuaded them to
surrender. Hesitatingly, out they came. They had been taught to
distrust "these cannibals from the South Seas," even as we had been
warned against falling into Turkish hands. With many salaams and
ingratiating bows they filed down the pathway, somewhat disconcerting
an R.E. officer by solemnly kissing his hand.
The Turks opposite Quinn's never neglected their opportunities. Their
mine explosion made a fair-sized crater between the two front-line
trenches. Next morning the periscope revealed a blockhouse built of
solid timbers planted in the crater. This, being a direct threat to
Quinn's, was too much for the section of New Zealand Engineers, who,
with the men of the 4th Australian Brigade, had held the post from the
first week. Two adventurous sappers volunteered to creep out across the
debris of No Man's Land and demolish the menace by means of gun-cotton.
This they accomplished with great skill, destroying the blockhouse and
killing the occupants. The Turk, however, was persistent. Time and
again he roofed over the crater; but with hairbrush bombs--two pounds
of gun-cotton tied on to a wooden handle--with kerosene, benzine, and
other gentle agents in the art of persuasion, the Turkish garrison
were kept most unhappy, even though they were all promoted to the rank
of corporal. About this time it was learned that the Ottoman soldiers
had christened this set of trenches "the Slaughterhouse," but it must
be said that the Turks operating in No. 3 Section, especially opposite
Quinn's, earned the respect of all who fought against them.
Early in June the New Zealand Infantry Brigade took over this No.
3 Defence Section. The posts once held by General Monash's famous
4th Brigade were now garrisoned by men from Auckland, Wellington,
Canterbury and Otago. The New Zealand Engineers still kept up their
sapping and mining. The No. 1 Company had been on duty without relief
from the landing, until relieved by the No. 2 Company, which arrived on
June 3, and took over the sapper work within the section.
"The Agony of Anzac."
A periscopic view of No Man's Land was a terrible sight--littered with
jam tins, meat tins, broken rifles and discarded equipment--every
few yards a dead body and hosts of buzzing flies. Chloride of lime,
with its hateful associations, was scattered thickly on all decaying
matter, and the scent of Anzac drifted ten miles out to sea. In this
foetid atmosphere, with the miners on both sides burrowing under the
posts like furtive rabbits, hand-grenade throwers carrying on their
nerve-racking duels, stretcher bearers constantly carrying out the
unfortunate ones, digging and improving the trenches under a scorching
sun--is it any wonder that the men of Anzac were looked at almost
pityingly by the reinforcements and the rare visitors from Helles and
the warships? Let one of these visitors speak:--
"The soul of Anzac is something apart and distinct from any feeling
one gets elsewhere. It is hard to write of its most distressing
feature, which is the agony it endures. But it is quite necessary, in
justice to the men, that this should be said. There is an undercurrent
of agony in the whole place. The trace of it is on every face--the
agony of danger, of having seen good men and great friends die or
suffer, of being away from home, of seeing nothing ahead, of sweating
and working under hot suns or under stars that mock. Let there be a
distinct understanding that the agony is not misery. The strong man
bears his agony without misery; and those at Anzac are strong. What
the men endure should be known at home."
It is true that the Australians and New Zealanders did not altogether
realize how badly off they were. The Turk had said a landing was
impossible--yet a landing had been forced. The Turk had boasted he
would drive the infidel into the sea--the perspiring daredevils refused
to be driven. Lack of water, lack of ammunition, monotony of food,
rebellious stomachs, the loss of brothers and friends--all these things
the men of Anzac triumphed over. The two young nations had found their
manhood on these barren Turkish hillsides. Whatever our enemies and
the benevolent neutrals thought, the Australian and New Zealand Army
was confident in itself, confident in its leaders, confident in the
wisdom of the High Command that deemed it necessary to prosecute the
enterprise.
A Sortie from Quinn's Post.
Lying along the flank of the Turkish communications, the Australian and
New Zealand Army Corps was a constant thorn in the side of the enemy
troops journeying to reinforce the Ottoman army in the Krithia zone.
The enemy kept a large general reserve with which he could reinforce
his troops at either Krithia or Anzac. When the British attacked on
the southern sector it was the duty of the Anzac troops to simulate an
attack in force, so preventing Turkish reinforcements being sent from
opposite Anzac to the south, and by making frequent sallies causing
the Turkish commander to become uncertain in his mind as to the real
attack. But always, in the first few months, Anzac was "playing second
fiddle to Helles."
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
A SCENE IN MONASH GULLY.
As the Turkish snipers at the head of Monash Gully could enfilade
stretches of the road sandbag traverses were built at the most
dangerous points.]
On June 4 the redoubtable soldiers at Helles made another great attempt
on Achi Baba. The Anzac troops co-operated by threatening the Turkish
defences in the direction of Gaba Tepe, and by two raids, one on the
trenches opposite Quinn's, the other on German Officers' Trench.
At first it was the custom to capture the first-line trench and to
endeavour to keep it. In practice this was rarely successful. The
front line of a trench system is generally lightly held; a surprise
attack by determined troops can almost rely on being successful if
the element of surprise is availed of. But to take a trench is one
thing; to hold it another. Remember that the rest of the front line is
still held by the enemy, who, working from traverse to traverse, can
bomb down it. The second and third lines are also intact, with good
communication trenches leading from them to the broken firing line.
Bombers can also work down these communication trenches; ammunition,
food and water, and (most important of all) hand-grenades, can arrive
in unlimited numbers and in comparative safety. All of these things
required by the attackers lodged in the enemy's trenches must come over
the bullet-swept, shrapnel-torn surface of No Man's Land. By the end
of a day, unless reasonable communications can be provided, the troops
who so easily captured the hotly-contested position find that they must
choose between annihilation or retreat. So it was raiding grew up.
This appealed more to the primitive instincts of man--the sudden dash
into the enemy, the attempt to achieve the maximum amount of damage in
the minimum time, and to get to the home trench again before the enemy
reinforcements could arrive. This method was particularly valuable
when it was considered necessary to destroy the entrances to enemy
galleries, to interfere with the progress of enemy saps, and to obtain
prisoners for identification by the Intelligence Department.
The sortie from Quinn's Post on June 4 was a typical example of the
early method. If ever an attack was organized to succeed this one
was. Eager volunteers from the Auckland and Canterbury Battalions
were selected to carry out the work, and at 11 p.m. a heavy artillery
fire was to be directed on the surrounding communication trenches. An
assaulting party of sixty men was to dash across the thirty yards of
No Man's Land, take the opposing trench and transpose the Turkish
parapet. Two working parties were detailed to follow the first line.
These men carried filled sandbags with which to build a loopholed
traverse at each end of the captured trench; other parties were to
commence two communication trenches from the new work to the old. The
4th Australian Infantry Brigade was held in reserve.
In the dark, the eager groups made ready to carry out their hazardous
task. It is a strange impulse that prompts thoughtful men to face death
so eagerly. But up there in the gloom of the dark Gallipoli night, at
the very salient of the Anzac line, only twenty yards from a stubborn
foe, these daring young infantrymen carefully examined their rifles
and hand-grenades, finally adjusting their equipment, and peered at
their wristlet watches slowly ticking off the leaden-footed minutes.
Precisely at 11 p.m., Nos. 1 and 2 Batteries on Plugge's Plateau and
Walker's Ridge joined with the 4th Australian Battery in shelling the
Turkish communications. Our howitzers near the beach dropped shell
after shell in the trenches leading to Quinn's. The 21st (Jacob's)
Mountain Battery added its contribution to the din. Under cover of
this noise and the darkness the two groups of attackers crept over the
parapet of Quinn's, across the wreckage of No Man's Land, and fell on
the Turkish garrison before the alarm could be sounded. A few Turks
were bayonetted and twenty-eight taken prisoners. But every minute of
darkness was priceless. About seventy yards of trench had been taken,
the parapet shifted over, and the flanking traverses commenced. Now the
Turks opposite Courtney's commenced to enfilade the captured position
with machine-gun fire--the Australian party attacking German Officers'
Trench had not been successful. Presently the Turkish counter-attack
commenced. Bombs were showered on the working parties struggling to
complete the traverses and communications. It was obvious that when
daylight came the trench would be difficult to hold, especially if the
machine-guns opposite Steel's Post were not silenced. The work in the
captured trench was now complete, and the Australians were asked to
carry out another attack on German Officers' Trench. This sortie failed
about 3 a.m. An hour after, a bomb and fire counter-attack by the
enemy destroyed our flanking traverses, wrecked the overhead cover, and
pushed our men back, step by step, until we held barely thirty yards
of captured trench. When dawn came the Turks became more insistent,
the machine-gun fire increased in intensity, and the trench was filled
from end to end with bursting hand-grenades. Our men were now taken
in front and in flank by skilful grenade parties, until, at 6.30, we
were finally driven down our new communication trenches to our old
front line. Our gains were nil; our casualties numbered 137, including
one officer and thirteen men killed. Lieut.-Colonel C. H. Brown, who
as Brigadier-General Brown, was later killed in France--one of the
most popular and capable officers of the New Zealand Staff Corps--was,
as officer commanding Quinn's Post, severely wounded by a Turkish
hand-grenade.
[Illustration: THE BOMB-PROOF SHELTERS AT QUINN'S POST.
The hillsides were so steep that a sufficient number of men could not
be accommodated near the front line. Round cricket-ball hand grenades
would bound downhill and annoy the troops, so these bomb-proofs were
built. The high ground on the left of the picture is Pope's Hill. ]
Eventually Quinn's became the stronghold of the line. This was not
accomplished in a day or without enormous labour. But, inspired
by their officers--particularly the new commander of the post,
Lieut.-Colonel Malone, of the Wellingtons--the men of the New
Zealand Infantry Brigade and the New Zealand Engineers made Quinn's
Post comparatively safe. Iron loopholes were put in, bombing pits
constructed, and wonderful bomb-proof shelters built in terraces on the
hillside. It was a tremendous work. Because of the pitiless heat and
the incessant sniping, the troops watched and waited during the day;
but as soon as it was dark the working parties carried on their backs
the sandbags, timber, iron, ammunition, hand-grenades, water and food,
up that shrapnel-swept Valley of Death in order that Quinn's Post might
be safe.
The Last Attack on Anzac.
Day by day the soldiers clinging to their posts at Anzac were filled
with speculations as to the progress made at Helles. Great bombardments
seemed to be of daily occurrence. Sometimes we could fancy that the
great clouds of dust and smoke were rolling appreciably nearer. On
June 27/28 the masses of smoke and flame seemed greater than ever.
Then we learned that Helles was being attacked, and we were asked to
take off a little of the strain. The extreme right of our line was now
held by the 2nd Australian Light Horse Brigade, supported on the right
by the veterans of the heroic early-morning landing--Maclagan's 3rd
Australian Infantry Brigade. These units carried out dashing attacks
on the extreme right. The diversion was entirely successful, and drew
formidable Turkish reserves towards Anzac.
Indeed, as the hours slipped by, it seemed that the object of the Light
Horse and Infantry was more than achieved, for it was reported that
more and more of the finest Turkish regulars were being concentrated
opposite Anzac.
On the night of June 29, about 9.10, the enemy expended thousands of
rounds ineffectually against our extreme right--evidently firing at
nothing in particular, as most of the bullets sailed aimlessly out
to sea. This was the Turk's usual method of advertising an attack
somewhere else. Sure enough, during the night that attack developed
opposite Pope's and Russell's Top. The 3rd Light Horse Brigade
(consisting of the 8th, 9th, and 10th Regiments) were now taking
turns with the New Zealand Mounted Brigade in No. 4 Defence Section.
The machine guns were never taken out of the line, Australian and
New Zealand guns staying in even when their respective brigades were
withdrawn to "rest."
In the moonlight, about an hour after midnight, the Turk, calling on
his God, surged forward to the attack on No. 4 Section. In the half
light the machine gunners found the range, and mercilessly cut up
the attacking waves. But they were not to be denied. On and on they
pressed, right up to the parapets. Several Turks bravely jumped into
our trenches and were killed. They certainly were game. Around Pope's,
too, they threw wave after wave, which faded away under the hail of
lead.
On the Nek we had constructed several trenches, which were not yet
joined up. Down between these new trenches came the enemy, only to be
assailed with a cross-fire which almost annihilated the attack. Further
to the left, General Russell had an excellent secret sap--a trench with
no parapet to advertise its existence. Working round our left flank,
the enemy blundered into this concealed trench, and lost over 250 men.
Nowhere was the line broken, and the attack melted away.
[Illustration: A CROSS-EXAMINATION.
The officer on the left of the group is Capt. the Hon. Aubrey Herbert,
M.P., our divisional interpreter; the one with his back to us is
Colonel G. J. Johnston, the C.R.A. of the Division, an officer loved
by his subordinates for his fairness and his enthusiasm for the guns.]
What a sight No Man's Land presented that morning of June 30! The
majority of the three fresh battalions of Turkish troops lay dead or
wounded out there in the open; and of the dead men on the parapets,
each had a rough haversack filled with dates and olives, the
ever-present Turkish tobacco, and filled water-bottles. The prisoners
taken said that their orders were to break the line at all costs. Enver
Pasha himself was reported to be present, but prisoners' statements in
matters of this kind are always open to doubt, as there is a certain
amount of temptation to answer in a manner calculated to please the
interrogating interpreter.
This was the last attempt the enemy made to break the Anzac line.
The Soldier and His Clothes.
Two factors worked a change in the Army's clothing. The first was the
Turk. His snipers picked out anyone wearing distinctions, with the
result that officers cut off their conspicuous badges of rank and sewed
small worsted stars or crowns on the shoulder-straps; otherwise, ranks
were indicated on the shoulders of the shirts by indelible ink pencil.
The N.C.O.'s and men took off their metal badges, the ink pencil being
again in request to draw the badge and unit indications on the cap.
The heat was responsible for other modifications. Tunics were the
first to go, and bit by bit the soldier shed his garments until he
stood only in his boots, his shortened trousers, a shirt, and a cap.
Riding breeches, cut well above the knee, made a most roomy pair of
shorts. While no two men wore their trousers the same length, each one
seemed to pride himself on having the ends as raggedly and unevenly
cut as possible. The hot sun burned the exposed parts of the body a
rich brown; so, when men went in bathing, it was easy to deduce by the
amount of white skin exactly what garments had been preserved. On brown
backs it was amusing to see a white V, testimony that the soldier still
sported a pair of braces!
[Illustration: DUGOUTS ON WELLINGTON TERRACE.]
For some unknown reason, slouch hats, which would have been invaluable
were left behind at the base. Many of the Mounted Rifles arrived with
the brims of their felt hats cut off, leaving only a little peak fore
and aft, like the old-time policeman's shako. New Zealanders were
forbidden to wear helmets in Egypt, but the soldier of understanding
smuggled his away with him, and a very proud man he was who sported one
on the Peninsula. The sailor men were very keen on getting slouch hats;
many a bearded face was shaded by the broad brim of a Colonial hat.
If there was one thing the soldier had enough of, and to spare, it
was socks. The good people at home put a pair into every parcel. The
Ordnance issued them as well. It is hard to say what socks were not
used for. The soldier who wrote, "Thanks for the socks--they will come
in useful," doubtless spoke the truth.
Some things the men always craved for. Good Virginian tobacco and
cigarettes were always welcome--the ration was of very inferior
quality; sweets were always in great demand; owing to living under such
primitive conditions, most watches went wrong, and were very difficult
to replace; a "salt water soap" that would lather in salt water was
looked for almost in vain; while tinned milk was worth any trouble
and risk to procure. These were the days before the Y.M.C.A. made its
welcome appearance.
About this time the Intelligence Department discovered that the Turk
might use gas, so primitive gas helmets were procured from England.
Woe betide any luckless soldier caught without his respirator. It is
not suggested that the Turk was too humane to use gas, but luckily the
masks were never needed, principally because the ground was so broken,
and the "prevailing" winds could not be depended on. As our front line
was so closely involved with that of the enemy, the enemy certainly
would have received a fair share of the poisonous fumes intended for
the infidels.