This word is worthy of careful examination. It means rather more than
most words do, and it is one of the most honourable names in the
British Empire.
The word is made up of the initial letters of the following words, all
except one which does not greatly matter: Australian (and) New Zealand
Army Corps. The name Anzac was given to that part of the coast of the
Peninsula of Gallipoli on which the Australians and New Zealanders
landed on the same day as the Lancashires made their landing farther to
the south. And in time the name Anzacs was given to the Australians and
New Zealanders alike. It was a convenient short term for them.
They were a merry lot of men. “We are having an iron time,” one of them
wrote home, “we live in an iron ship, sleep on an iron floor, have
nothing to eat but iron rations, and now, to crown all, I hear we are
commanded by a fellow called ‘Iron’ Hamilton.”
The various operations of April 25, 1915, are known as the Battle of
the Landing, and the attack delivered by the Anzacs was by far the
greatest of all. The force numbered some 12,000 men and the place
chosen for the landing was one of the most difficult on that rocky
coast. The assault is one of the most heroic in the records of the
British Army. A single body of men seemed to act as one, and won
everlasting fame not only for themselves but for the nations to which
they belonged.
The landing was to be made with the help of a squadron consisting of
five battleships, one cruiser, eight destroyers, a seaplane carrier, a
balloon ship and fifteen trawlers carrying supplies as well as a number
of transports. Some of the men were carried on the battleships, and to
these was given the honour of making the first landing.
The ships left their base on the afternoon of the 24th and steamed all
night with lights out. At one o’clock they were all collected about
five miles from the place where the landing was to be made. It was a
bright moonlight night, which was rather unfortunate, for it gave the
sentries on the slopes above the bay a warning which they were not slow
to act upon.
At one o’clock the men on the battleships were silently roused and were
served with a hot meal. They were very quiet and steady but cheery, and
quite confident that they could give a good account of themselves in
the coming fight. It was, indeed, a severe trial of strength, skill,
and nerve power which lay before these brave colonials. They were not
like the Germans or even the British regulars who had been trained for
fighting over a long period. Yet these men from the farms and pastures
as well as from the towns of the Southern Land had been selected for
the post of honour on that great day.
As soon as the meal was finished, orders were given to lower the boats.
These included not only the cutters but also the steam picket boats
which were to tow them to the beach. In a very short time the men had
embarked to the number of 1500 and the boats were towed towards the
shore. The battleships were cleared for action and steamed closer in.
It was a few minutes before five o’clock when the first boats drew near
to the shore above which towered a lofty cliff with a winding pathway
leading from the beach to its right flank. At that moment a light was
seen on shore which proved to be a signal, for a few minutes later a
rifle volley rang out followed by the sound of a machine-gun, and a
number of men in the leading boats fell dead or wounded. The landing of
the Anzacs was to be disputed.
This reception was exactly what the men needed to nerve them to their
attack. A body of Turkish soldiers was seen advancing to meet them.
Without waiting for the word of command they sprang from the boats into
the shallow water, and ran to meet the foe. “Their magazines were not
even charged,” we read, “so they just went in with cold steel, and I
believe I am right in saying that the first Ottoman Turk since the Last
Crusade received an Anglo-Saxon bayonet in him at five minutes after
five a.m. on April 25. It was over in a minute. The Turks in the first
trench were bayoneted or ran away and a Maxim gun was captured. Then
the Australians found themselves facing an almost perpendicular cliff
of loose sandstone.”[4]
[4] From _Despatches from the Dardanelles_, by Mr.
Ashmead-Bartlett (Newnes), with acknowledgments.
Half-way up the face of this cliff was a second trench, from which a
steady fire was now pouring from rifle and machine-gun. The face of the
precipice was dotted with short bushes and behind each of these pieces
of scrub a marksman was concealed. The fire from the enemy was directed
not only upon those men who had already landed but also upon those who
were now being brought from the transports.
The men at the foot of the cliff threw their packs to the ground,
charged their rifles and set out on their desperate climb. In about
fifteen minutes they were in possession of the second line of trenches
and the Turks were on the run, or rather on the climb, to the top of
the lofty cliff. The men were so full of eagerness that some of them
pressed too far and were cut off from the main attack.
Meanwhile the battleships were bombarding the Turkish positions and
were receiving such a heavy fire in return that the landing was greatly
checked. The beach was very narrow and soon became crowded to such
an extent that the men got in each other’s way and there were more
casualties than there would have been in more open country. But there
was no quenching the spirit of the men. One eager Australian fell over
a cliff 100 feet high and was picked up little the worse for his fall.
A man from New Zealand was seen going down a deep hollow and was warned
that there would probably be a mine at the bottom. He laughed and
called out, “Then you can catch me as I come up.”
A dressing station protected by sand-bags had been set up on the
beach, and when the wounded had been given first-aid they were
quickly conveyed to the ships. The men showed wonderful courage and
cheerfulness. “I saw some lighters full of bad cases,” wrote one
who was there, “as they passed the battleships. Some of those on
board recognised our vessel as the ship they had left that morning;
whereupon, in spite of their sufferings and discomforts, they set up a
cheer which was answered by a deepening shout of encouragement from our
crew.”
By the afternoon of that great day the Anzacs found themselves in a
strong position above the beach for which they had won immortal fame.
Their first task was accomplished. They had invaded Gallipoli, and had
fixed themselves ready for the next stage in the stern work, which was
not long delayed; for the Turks soon attacked in force, but were unable
to move the Anzacs from their position.