by A B Facey
I arrived at the Turks’ trench with two others – one was a Bunbury man I knew well. As we went over the parapet into the trench two Turks fired at us, killing the man I didn’t know. The Bunbury man had his rifle in the on guard position. A bullet struck the rifle and flew away not harming him. I dealt with one Turk and he the other. We seemed to be alone for a few seconds, then suddenly we realised that there were many Turks in the trench. Some came at us but seemed confused. We had only the bayonet for a weapon and believe me, we used it to perfection. Our Turkish counterparts didn’t like this and soon made themselves scarce. After fierce fighting our forces were able to capture and secure the entire trench. Apparently the charge below our position never went off, but I heard that one of the others near us did when our troops were in the Turkish trench fighting.
We opened up the tunnels where the charges went off and eventually managed to get the wounded back through for treatment. The Turkish trench was on the edge of a drop, so we pushed the dead Turks over and let them fall down to where their own mates could bury them. We then worked all night reversing the parapets which were facing our line so that they now faced the Turks.
The following morning when daylight came the Turkish Artillery opened up onto this trench and all we could do was lie down flat at the bottom and take it. The sand-bags we had placed in position to protect us were blown down into the trench in places and many of our men were killed or badly wounded. Some were blown to pieces. The tunnels were our only safe way of communication.
The shelling went on all day at intervals but when darkness came it stopped. (Apparently this was because at night our navy could detect the guns’ positions by the flash when they went off, and so the Turks didn’t want to give themselves away.)
For three nights, as fast as we built the parapets up they would be blown away again next day.
New reinforcements joined us a few days after we had taken the trench, and small groups of them were allowed to come into the position and be schooled in this type of trench warfare. A lot of us old hands who had taken part in the charge hadn’t had much sleep and by the sixth day were almost dead on our feet. Our officers said that we should be given a rest and they considered that the reinforcements, with some old hands, could hold the trench. So a number of us went back to our reserve trenches to have a well-earned rest. The change was made after dark and we were so tired we fell asleep as soon as we lay down.
Just before daylight we were awakened with the shocking news that the Turks were back in the trench and were also in the tunnels. They had killed most of the men who had remained there when we left.
By the time we were fully awake we were ordered to charge again. This time the charge would be in broad daylight. I had seen some hot spots during the campaign but this was terrible. The little strip of land that we had to cross was being swept by machine-guns and fire from all angles. Our casualties were heavy; nearly all the men to my left were killed. Somehow we recaptured the trench and sand-bagged up the tunnel, blocking in some Turks. They had hand-grenades and had been using them to keep us out. We had grenades ourselves but we had to use these to stop the Turks from climbing up into the trench again as they had done to retake it earlier.
Our grenades were getting low so a lieutenant ordered me to take a message back to our Commanding Officer, asking for more quickly and telling him about the Turks in the tunnel. He told me he was sending me because I was an old hand at using shell holes for protection. I slipped out of the trench and crawled into a large shell hole. Then I noticed another hole about ten yards away at an angle to the left. I jumped out and ran and fell into it safely. Then about twelve yards ahead to the right I saw another hole and got ready to make a run. Suddenly a large shell went into the ground a few yards beyond this hole and the whole world seemed to explode. I hadn’t moved from cover yet – the hole I was in saved my life. The shell was a large one and must have been fired from a fort because it didn’t explode for a few seconds after it had hit the ground. The dust, smoke and the earth that showered into the air when it exploded gave me ample cover to run straight into our original firing-line.
I got into our main trench close to where the tunnel started. Our colonel was there and there were several men lying at the bottom, some dead and some badly wounded. I hurried to give the Colonel the message. He was very excited and ordered me to take charge of the tunnel, explaining that the Turks were near the entrance and were throwing grenades.
I summed up the position and told all those near the tunnel entrance to get back and take cover. Two more grenades came out and exploded, but no damage was done. Then I got four men to get a full sand-bag and hold it in an upright position so their whole body would be protected. I then told them what we wanted to do. I ran into the mouth of the tunnel and put my bag on the ground. The next man put his on top of mine, and so on until we had that end safe and blocked, and the grenades couldn’t do us any further harm.
A few minutes later, while I was explaining the position of our troops in the recaptured trench to our colonel, a noise came from within the tunnel, then a white rag tied to the end of a bayonet appeared. I said to the Colonel, ‘They’re surrendering.’ With that we moved the sand-bags that we had used to block the tunnel and eight Turks came out, one by one. We took their rifles and felt for concealed weapons, then they were put under a guard. Several men loaded with grenades were sent along the tunnel to our mates in the captured trench. The trench was completely ours again. (It became known as Leane’s Trench after the officer who led our attack.)
Now I went through another terrible experience. The Colonel was so delighted to see the tunnel cleared and the Turks captured, that he went into his dugout and came out with a pannikin containing about half a pint of raw rum. He handed it to me saying, ‘Here my boy, drink this.’ I said, ‘Sorry Sir, I don’t drink any intoxicating drinks.’ (We got a rum ration often and I always gave mine to my mates.) He replied, ‘You drink that, it is good for you.’ I hesitated. He then said, ‘That is an order.’ So I explained to the Colonel that I had made a promise to my Grandma not to drink intoxicating liquor. He then apologised to me and said, ‘You stick by your promise.’
Now our position was secured, the Colonel put eight of us in charge of the prisoners. We were ordered to take them to Headquarters to be interrogated.
Now a most extraordinary thing happened. We had arranged the guard down to Headquarters so that we had an Australian soldier in the lead (we had to go along the trenches in Indian file), then a Turk, another Aussie, then another Turk, and so on, with a corporal at the rear. After travelling along the trenches towards the Headquarters for about two hundred yards – the Turks were sending shells and shrapnel over as fast as they could – a shrapnel shell suddenly exploded just about us, killing the first, second and third Turk and badly wounding the fourth. Not one of us Aussies was touched. For me, this was one of the miracles of the Gallipoli Campaign.
57
ANOTHER BIRTHDAY
Not long after delivering the prisoners and returning back to my unit, my part in the campaign ended. While I was on look-out duty, a shell lobbed into the parapet of our trench and exploded, killing my mate. Several bags filled with sand were blown on top of me – this hurt me badly inside and crushed my right leg. I had difficulty walking or standing upright, and then, while moving to the tunnel to go through to the doctor, a bullet hit me in the shoulder.
The doctor examined me and ordered me to be taken away. At the dressing-station I was bandaged and sent on to the main clearing-station at Headquarters. From there I was to be put on a hospital ship anchored about one mile off shore.
A motor boat took me and some other wounded men out to a hospital ship but we couldn’t go aboard. The ship was full – in fact overcrowded – so we were taken across the bay to Imbros Island and put on a troopship. There were already three hundred sick and wounded on board. One of the crew told us that the ship was the Ulysses. All that was on her for identification was a large number.<
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It was the nineteenth day of August 1915. I had been on Gallipoli only six days short of four months and I want to say now that they were the worst four months of my whole life. I had seen many men die horribly, and had killed many myself, and lived in fear most of the time. And it is terrible to think that it was all for nothing.
We didn’t know where we would be going when we left Imbros. The island had a harbour large enough to hold about twelve ships. The entrance had a submarine net across it and a tug would open a section to let a ship in or out, and a torpedo boat was always on patrol.
Everything seemed so quiet in the harbour – no shelling, no rifle-fire. Most of us were cot-cases and were in beds that were bolted to the deck of the ship. We couldn’t help thinking of our mates that we had left behind at Gallipoli: I still had my brother Joseph fighting there and Roy was also on my mind – he would never leave like me. We had plenty of time to think and we all thought that the whole Gallipoli Campaign was a mistake and a terrible, unnecessary loss of life. We also worried about what would happen to that loyal brace of men that we had been forced to leave behind. When we were fighting we used to envy mates that were sent away sick or wounded, but now all that we felt was sadness and sorrow, and that we should be back with them.
I think that it would be true to say that all the men who were at Gallipoli wanted to stay with their comrades. It wasn’t that anyone wanted to be a hero, it was just that we were very close after four months together under such terrible conditions. A sort of love and trust in one another developed in the trenches. It made us all very loyal to each other.
That evening we had our first real meal for just about four months and were given clean beds and clean clothes. We were bathed and it felt wonderful to be really clean again. These were simple things but they were marvellous to us.
All the wounded and very ill were put into beds up on the first deck and we had lovely nurses to look after us. I didn’t know where the nurses came from but they were there. The not-so-ill, or those sent away because their nerves had given out on them, were put in hammocks down in the lower decks below the water-line. This nerve sickness was very bad. The men who suffered from it couldn’t help it. They were unable to sleep properly and from day to day they got worse. I have seen men doze off into a light sleep and suddenly jump up shouting, ‘Here they come! Quick! Thousands of them. We’re doomed!’ We had to grab them and hold them down until a doctor or medical orderly could come and give them a needle to quieten them. The doctors wouldn’t allow men with nerve sickness to stay at the Front because they would be upsetting to the others, especially those who were inclined that way themselves.
The first night on the ship we didn’t want any sleeping drugs; we were so tired that most of us were sound asleep before dark. When we awoke next morning we found that the ship was anchored in Mudros Harbour at Lemnos Island. One of the men asked a nurse what had happened and she said, ‘You boys didn’t asleep, you died.’ She then told us that our ship had left Imbros Harbour at about eleven o’clock the night before and sailed during the darkest part of the night because of the submarine menace.
The harbour was full of ships of all sorts and sizes waiting to sneak out and hoping to dodge the submarines. Small torpedo boats kept a continuous patrol around the outside of the submarine nets across the mouth of the harbour. An officer on the Ulysses told us that we may have to wait several days before we got the all clear to sail to Egypt.
On the morning of the twenty-fifth we awakened to find that we were well out to sea and one of the orderlies told us that we were going to Egypt. We seemed to be alone, we were unable to see any other ships. The Mediterranean Sea was beautiful – a lovely deep blue and as calm as a lake. Looking at this beautiful sea it was hard to believe that there were great dangers lurking under the surface.
A few days later, in the afternoon, our attention was directed to a ship that was travelling the opposite way to us, probably to Lemnos Island. An officer said that he thought it was a troopship loaded with men and that it looked like the Royal George. We were all watching when, to our surprise and horror, there was a loud explosion. The troopship was almost cut in half from the force of a blast that hit it in the centre. It lifted the ship, bulging the centre part upward, and when the ship settled down again it started to sink, going down with both ends lifting high out of the water. After about fifteen minutes the ship seemed to fold up and it disappeared completely.
We expected our ship to go to the aid of the men who had jumped or had been thrown overboard by the explosion. To our surprise the Ulysses turned away with all engines at full steam ahead; it fairly shuddered with the vibration of the engines. One of the sailors explained that if we had stayed to rescue the men we would have also been torpedoed and sunk. He said that the submarine that had torpedoed the ship was no doubt after us now. This put us all on edge as, if we were hit, most of us would be doomed.
The Ulysses had a small naval gun mounted at the stern and a gun crew, which gave us some comfort. The sailor explained that the gun had a range of approximately four miles, so the submarine would have to keep out of range during daylight. We were safe until after dark. Under the cover of darkness the submarine could surface and travel as fast or faster than us. Our ship was using a zig-zag course and would have to keep this up until after dark.
All night the Ulysses travelled flat out with all lights out. We put life belts on (all who could get them on). Those who were too ill to be put in the belts had their beds unbolted from the deck and airtight drums attached to them. Straps were placed around the beds and patients to hold them together. That night is something I am sure none of us who experienced it will ever forget.
The danger was not only the submarine chasing us; there was the possibility of another one being contacted to wait in our path. In that event we would be absolute sitting ducks. Nobody slept that night. We were too frightened and we felt so helpless. I hated the trenches but at least there you had a chance. One thing that was in our favour was that it was a very dark night.
When daylight came we were still intact and there was no sign of submarines. Later that morning we were met by a French battleship, two cruisers and four destroyers. They steamed past our ship and we were told that they were after the submarine. This gave us a wonderful feeling. Later that afternoon one of the destroyers came back and escorted us on the rest of our journey to Egypt. For the first time in many months we were safe.
We arrived at the Port of Alexandria just before noon on the twenty-ninth of August. We were taken off the Ulysses, put onto a hospital train and taken through to the No. 1 Australian General Hospital at Heliopolis, a suburb of Cairo. From there we were sent to different hospitals. With many others, I was sent to a converted sports arena called Luna Park where they looked after us very well. I had my twenty-first birthday there but didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t a time for celebrations.
After about four weeks of treatment a lot of us were sent to a convalescent home a few miles outside of Cairo.
I received word while at the convalescent home that my brother Joseph had been killed at Gallipoli. I was told that he had been bayoneted while on guard duty at an outpost. He was with another Australian soldier when the Turks crept up in the dark of night and jumped them. The soldier with Joseph ran away and left him and he had tried to defend the outpost on his own. He was found later with seven bayonet wounds in him. I was very upset by the news. I wasn’t as close to him as I had been to Roy but he was my brother. That was two of my brothers dead on Gallipoli. Joseph’s Commanding Officer wrote a nice letter to our sister, Laura, telling her all about his end.
During my third week at the convalescent home I went before the medical board. After being given a lengthy examination and answering a lot of questions, I was told that my wounds had healed but the board wasn’t satisfied with my condition. I was still suffering faintness and internal pain, and vomiting blood – the cause of this had the doctors baffled. They recommended that I be sent away
from Egypt to England or Australia for six months of further treatment and observation. They asked me to choose and I chose Australia.
A week later I was sent by train with many others to Port Suez. After a few days we were put on a troopship fitted out for the occasion and set sail for home.
ANOTHER LIFE
1915–1976
AFTER OUR MARRIAGE MY LIFE BECAME SOMETHING
WHICH WAS MUCH MORE THAN JUST ME.
58
EVELYN GIBSON
We arrived at Fremantle near the end of November 1915, after a very rough trip. I was very ill and still vomiting blood and getting those nasty fainting feelings; the doctor on the ship had kept me in bed. I felt as if there was something amiss deep down inside. I had had this feeling ever since I was wounded. The hospitals in Egypt had given me all sorts of treatment and medicines, including hot and cold packs and massages – these remedies gave me severe pain so they stopped them.
On arriving at Fremantle, about one hundred of us were taken straight to the No. 8 Australian Military Hospital at Fremantle. From there I got twenty-four hours leave and was allowed to go home to my stepfather’s place in West Perth. My relations and friends were all pleased to see me home again.
When I reported back to hospital the next morning I was ordered to bed and there I remained until Christmas time. Many doctors and specialists examined me but none of them was sure what was wrong – my wounds had all healed. I was put through all sorts of tests. One I will never forget – a plaster about six inches square was placed over my heart. It had a drawing effect and caused a blister to form the full size of the plaster, and when the blister had drawn the fluid out about half to three quarters of an inch, the nursing sister would put a kidney-shaped bowl underneath and tap it. About half a pint of fluid would run out into the bowl – it was the colour of muddy water. The sore that was left was dressed and bandaged until it healed properly, and then they would put another plaster on and I had to go through the same routine again. The doctor said that this was drawing fluid from around the heart. He suspected that the shell bursts had affected my heart badly and that this was what was making me feel faint and giddy so often.