I found in connection with our action of 26th Ulto that the Turks were in much greater force than I had thought and moreover that we inflicted great loss on them. Young Preston who was on one of the machine guns gave me details of slaughter of several hundreds by his guns alone under Capt Wallingford44 after Lt Wilson killed. It is good news. Young Preston is solid. Poor Wilson seems to have been somewhat rash and stood up too much. Hard to blame him. I do it myself, but I am meaning to be more careful in future.
Terry is here I hear. They posted me in Egypt as killed, and then wounded. Terry is reported to have told Major Whyte45 who told him I was all right. “I know that my father did [not] come out to get killed[”]. I will try and see him tonight.
Went up the ridge, to our old trenches which are now held by the 2nd M.R. (Wellington) and Auckland M.R. Col Meldrum46 was in my old bivouac. He and his officers were very pleased to see me. He sent for Terry, but I couldn’t wait, so didn’t see him. Meldrum will send him down to lunch with me tomorrow. I went round the trenches, and found that they had been improved a good deal. They now have some 18 Pdr Q.F. and some Mountain Guns up: a great help. I had heard that a ‘plunge’ attack by 100 men of the 2 M.R. had been ordered by HQ for a couple of days ago. A mad fatal thing. It was to be a dash across open ground, commanded by machine guns and rifles, to the Turkish trenches and then back. It meant destruction to the 100 men. Meldrum saw the folly of it and got it counter-commanded. I went up partly to shake his hand on his action, and did so. I found later that Terry was one of the 100, so feel we have to thank Meldrum for Terry’s life. A forlorn hope, with no real object is ghastly.
May 22nd 1915
It rained last night, and this morning up to 1pm. Oh! The mud in our gully. Still we are cheerful. I got my kit, which had been landed from the Itonus and had a sailor’s delight – slept in pyjamas on my stretcher, with plenty of blankets. What a sybarite, I! Orders to go and view the Australian position, with other C.O.s. A heavy, muddy, climbing, trench squeezing job. Saw the Turks trenches which in some places are only 15 yards away. The countryside is one mass of trenches tier upon tier. I saw lots of dead Turks. It is clear to me that an attack should be made from the North. Progress to our present front must be snail-like. The Australians to me, do not seem anything so keen as our men. Only an odd one observing the Turks and no sort of plan to deal with them; every man on his own. We organise parties of our men to deal with every bit of the Turk’s trenches and have got them so impressed with our vigilance and quick shooting, that they keep very quiet and low.
I was glad to get back to my bivouac after a very hard, hot and muddy, and unuseful [sic] trip. I found Terry awaiting me looking very fit and well. He had been out sniping and reckoned he had had good “killing”. He brought in 2 Turk rifles and wanted me to try and keep them for him. He stayed to tea. While at tea Genl Birdwood came to see me. I felt greatly honored because it is a climb to get to me. He was very nice and said he was very glad to get me and my men back, and that he had heard that we had done splendidly at Sedd El Bahr. He had got a smack on the head from a bullet, I found. By the way Genl Bridges47 died from wounds, the other day. He had been going round having a look and was caught by a stray bullet. We go out as inlying picket tonight at foot of Walkers Ridge, stand to arms at 3.30am and come home at 5.30am.
Saw Major Bruce today. He was very pleased, apparently to see me, and told me of his Mountain Gun Battery. They have been doing good work but have lost 69 men. Things are hot right enough.
I forgot to say that on my return from Australian lines I was welcomed by a letter and 3 lovely photos of Mater. They are very good and do her credit. She looks lovely and younger than ever. I have a great longing to see her in person, but must be content. Then I began to get letters, another from Mater, one from Norah one from Brian – March 11th date. It was delightful the longest looked for mail. It was 4 weeks since arrival of last one.
May 23rd 1915
Sunday – Back from picquett [sic]. Fixed up my bivvy some more – levelled and paved and squared and straightened up generally. Then to my delight another letter from Mater March 15th and then later on still another April 1st. It seemed to pour letters. The last was I am pretty sure the last from NZ. She was leaving in 3 or 4 days for Wellington and then for England. She will be in England now. I hope she got my letters and what not, on her arrival, and was welcomed by her and my relations. I have passed the day looking at her photos and reading and re-reading her letters. I must write to her at once. I heard today that I had been specially ‘mentioned’ in connection with our actions and recommended for DSO.48 But there must be lots of others who did more. I only did my job. It seems that General Walker had specially mentioned me as well as my own Brigadier.
On picquet last night, very quiet, only strings of mules and carts going by taking rations and water to the positions. Indians run the service.
May 24th 1915
Wet morning. Wrote Mater, thanking her for the lovely photos and for 4 letters. Sent her a few flowers, from around my shelter. An armistice for 9 Hours from 7.30am this morning has been granted to the Turks to enable them to bury their dead and remove wounded. It seems so strange the quiet consequent on the cease [sic, cessation] of firing. Ever since 25 April, night and day there has been continuous firing, varying of course in volume from the tremendous roar and roll of big naval gun Howitzers Q. Firers Mountain Gun and rifles, down to the smack – smack of the snipers shot. It is quite uncanny the silence. We have just heard that Italy will declare war. A vote of 407 to 74 having been carried for Extraordinary Powers Bill,49 which of course means Military Powers.
Mud – sticky – very sticky mud is with us again. But I think the rain will soon be over. An enemy submarine is about and keeps our shipping moving. 3 German officers killed yesterday! The blighters.
At 10am. I went up over the cliff, and into and past our original position so dearly gained on 27th April last. The armistice was in full swing: A delimitation line was agreed upon, practically 1/2 way between our lines and those of the Turks, along this line at intervals of about 20 paces, pairs of sentries without arms were posted, one British ie Austn, NZer and one Turk. Each had a little white flag. Then between such line and the respective trench lines parties of men with white bands on their arms with medical men and assistants and stretcher bearers, sought the wounded, and other parties acted as burial parties. It seemed strange such numbers of men and officers moving about on the ground between our positions and not a shot being fired. I had a special look round for our own dead and those of the Turks. I wanted I admit to get a count of the Turks, so as to know, whether we had given as good as we got. I found quantities of dead Turks, just on the position and in it where we had the fierce fight of 27th April. I counted over 100. There were only some 12 of ours lying there. We had got in and buried all we could at the time. Poor shattered humanity – exposed for 27 days, as dreadful a sight I suppose as could be seen. They lay as they fell. In one track about 50 Turks in a sort of double line of about 50 yards. In another place there was a curious tangle – a Turk lying face down across, his legs and lying back down a Ruahine private (one of my Bn) and then across his legs another Turk. I tried to reconstruct the scene. [Small diagram here.] I think some how, they were fighting in close order, and then got killed by fire from other troops who were firing into the jungle without a visible human target. Our men had to carry the dead Turks to the 1/2 way line – a gruesome job. One poor devil of a Turk had had his leg blown off at the knee, below, only his foot there. I did not go over any other part of the position but from what I saw in front of us, and from what other officers who did go over all the ground [saw,] the Turks have suffered great losses. The ground seemed littered with them. It is a good thing to have the dead buried. The air about was poisoned. The trenches are very close, in front of us, only some 60 feet away.
The armistice at Anzac called on 24 May 1915 to bury the dead. In the distance the Turks are burying their dead.
Mal
one Family Collection London
I saw a German officer. I hated him at sight. His manner was most offensive. Our men were burying a line of Turks who were so decomposed that it was almost impossible to lift them, and of course a sort of line or trench had to be dug. This pig accused us of digging a sap. A rotten job to bury their men and then to be accused of sapping made me wild. I told some of our chaps if he said any thing more to squash a dead Turk on to him. He snarled, but got more civil.
We got Wilson’s body and also that of the Bugler lad Bissett and buried them. I am glad. I am quite satisfied about our nerves. The most awful dreadful sights and yet no awe or dread. A great regret that, the killed cannot be buried at once. It is a desecration of the human body to leave it shot up, and unburied for long.
I had no lunch, but got some tea and biscuit and jam at B/Gen Russell’s HQ thanks to a Captain Levin50 whom I had met at Palmerston North some years ago.
At 4.23 the armistice ended, and the firing recommenced. I had a good look at the Turkish soldiers they look good, and well fed and clothed, and seemed cherry [sic] and friendly enough. At 7p.m. Hawkes Bay Coy gave a concert, but the rifle firing became so furious and noisy that it was impossible to hear, so we sang God Save the King and went to bed, at about 7.30p.m.
[MSX 2552]
24.5.15
My dearest,
It is Monday morning, raining some, and there is an armistice of 9 hours from 7.30am, (It is now 8.15am) to enable the Turks who asked for it to bury their dead and remove wounded. 4 days ago they attacked and were repulsed with loss to them of some 2000 killed and 5000 wounded. Those killed are close up to our trenches and we shall be glad to get the ground cleared. It is so strangely quiet – night and day since we landed – one heard firing of all sorts. That is all the war news I am going to bother you with. I meant to have only told you of the armistice, but then it was clear it was better to give you the reason – lest you might think we had been asking for it, and were in trouble. We are quite all right, but progress may be slow. It is the day of trenches and there are less and less of them in front of us. Finis, war.
I am sitting in my shelter quite dry, but it takes some skilful operation with sword and rifle to induce the rain not to come thro in driblets at places. The sword is a Turkish officers, that one of the boys took off a dead Turk and brought in for his Colonel, the rifles are 2 Turkish ones that Terry brought in from the front of his troop’s position and wanted me to try and cart along for him. My shelter is up near the head of a gully. I get just a peep of the sea. The gully sides are covered with scrub and many beautiful flowers, and the shelters of our Brigade. We are in reserve, and so are having a sort of 1/2 holiday. We got back to the 1st place of disembarkation, rejoining our Divn last Thursday, (I think but dates and days get lost!). I think I have told you in a previous letter of our trip away to another part of the Peninsula.
I am apart from the separation from you very happy, and just now tho the longing to be with you again or at least to see you is greater than ever, yet is endurable, because I yesterday received those beautiful photographs of your dear, sweet and lovely self. You look younger than ever. I sit and lie and gaze and gaze and devour you. I am not sure after all that they do enable me to endure better, our separation. If I were a stranger I should fall in love with you at the sight of them, but you know I am already fully in love with the bravest, and sweetest and loveliest woman in my world. I think I like the one photo, in which you are sitting on a sofa with a far away look in your eyes and (to me) intense look and pose of listening, or probably thought of your far away husband. It seems to me as tho you were striving to be in communication with me. The coming to me of the photo completes the connection and almost renders it physical. Was this so? The head is very lovely, and wistful, but to me there is not that intense character and greatness that there is in the other. One is beauty, the other is lovely greatness.
Thank you so much for them. Everybody here to whom I show them promptly falls in love with you. My dearest what rapture it will be when we meet and meet again. I feel sure, we will. God is and will be good to us. Our lives will be full of bliss and love. All unworthiness, narrowness and pettiness driven out of us by this eventful experience. I think and trust that I am a better man in every respect, and that all my selfishness and badness have gone, for good. I pray God that I may never forget what you have endured for me and be able to recompense you in full. You my ideal woman and wife.
To add to my great pleasure there were 4 actually four letters from you March 11th, 15th, 26th and April 1st, one from Norah and one from Brian. It was the happiest private day I have had. But it shows how badly we are served by our P.O. I had been growling and growling, but had cold water thrown over me. It is the one thing above all that we want, our mail. I hope you got all my letters on your arrival, and that you were welcomed by your people and by mine. I have been trying to picture your arrival, and hoping that you did not find the voyage too trying and that you have got quite strong and well again. All right I’ll fix up about your overdraft, don’t try and pay it off yourself. Don’t stint yourself. Get all the pleasure and enjoyment you can, and you will thus be pleasing me greatly, for you will be well and strong and more lovely than ever when I come back to you. I suppose H. Penn knows that you are to have the rent of The Farlands, as well as the other rents. Did you make a mistake when you said we expected to get £236 per ann [annum], but would take £200 pa. I did not expect to get anything like that, not that it is not worth it but there are so few people, who could pay it. I am so glad you took Denis and Barney.51 Give them all my love and a good hug and kiss each. My dear little Mollie shall have her arms around her Daddy again. The dear loving little soul. So like her dear and lovely mother. You speak about the kisses I shall have to give you. Will you give me some?! Those paper ones are not satisfying – x_____x x_____x x_____x x_____x. There! Neither are those are they?
I suppose you know all about our doings here. We are well fed, and are thriving on our food. Biscuit (great jaw muscle developers), bully beef, bacon, jam, tea and sugar, and sometimes dried potatoes. Appetite is a good sauce right enough, but honestly I don’t ask anything better. It agrees with us. We have very few sick. My Battalion has 6. In Egypt they commonly numbered 60. The men are splendid gallantly brave, yet cool and enduring, great and clever fighters, keen, patient, I love them. They are heroes and stoics, always cheery. The wounded don’t cry, groan or moan. It seems incredible but it is true. Among them one has no horror thro’ sound. In any case we have no horror or dread. Thanks be to God. I sometimes however get tears in my eyes. Whenever a wounded man who can speak, sees me, he says something like this “well Colonel I’ve got it”, a little smile showing the courage and spirit within. Then with a touch of anxiety “I hope you are satisfied with us”. (You must know, I have been from the beginning up to the very last minute growling and growling at my men, at the least provocation, in the belief that that makes for good soldiery! [)] I tell them what I think of them and thank and praise. Then “we’ve done our best” – a final little laugh. Wan enough God knows. It is very pathetic so you will understand the tears in my eyes. They are not there generally. I am really very callous and hard.
The mail man waits so I must close.
Love – all my love (husbands love) to you.
My further love to the children
Yours for aye
Your loving husband.
[MS 4130]
May 25th 1915
Rain in the night. Fair day. Conference with MO re sanitation. The gully is congested and it is difficult to provide proper latrines. The ground is very steep. We have decided on a plan which should work. At lunch today, we saw a lot of the men looking out to sea from vantage points. It was said that the Turks were shelling our ships at Imbros. Then we heard that one of our men of war HMS Triumph had been torpedoed by a submarine.52 I met Lt Harston and he said it was so he saw the ship sink. She was quite close to our landing place. He said[?] a number of de
stroyers had dashed in and he thought had rescued the crew let us hope so. The submarine was here a couple of days ago, we heard. The position is awkward. We are dependent on the sea transport for everything including most of our water. I suppose some sort of torpedo safe harbour or area will be made into which our ships can come and unload. It rained hard for a couple of hours this afternoon, but it is now hot and sunny. My shelter is reasonably rain proofed.
[MSX 2552]
25.5.15
My dear Norah
...I hope you enjoyed your stay with Aunt Louie, and that you will thoroughly enjoy England.
I liked the Cherinavski53 [sic] celloist the best. We get some music here all vocal. Last night one of my companies gave a concert. ‘Mary of Argyle’, ‘Sweet and Low’, and The Veterans Song (Long Live the King – don’t you hear them shouting – is the one I mean) were very well sung, but after about 6 songs, we had to bunk off. The machine gun and rifle fire, with an odd shell burst, made such a row that we couldn’t hear. Night and day we get it in varying volumes of sound. We had an armistice yesterday (at the Turks request to enable them to bury dead etc) for some 9 Hours, and the quiet was quite uncanny.
...The men are splendidly brave and cool. I wish you could see the gully. The sides run up in spurs to a plateau with 2 main ridges. At the bottom there is a dry water course which we have levelled, it is about 12 feet wide. That is the only continuous piece of fairly level land. The men some 3000 stowed away in all sorts of dugouts and shelters, on the spur sides. There is in places scrub, and any amount of beautiful flowers. It is something like the steep parts of Wellington but each house is a little “bivvy” as the men call their shelters, an oil sheet for roof or may be a blanket. In fine weather it is all right, but in rain, no good. We have just had rain, one night 1/2 a day and now 2 hours solid. My bivvy and I am one of the best builders in the Divn, is high up the water course bed near the cliff. I have built a stone wall on one side and the stone balk on the other. At a 3rd side I have cut into the bank, and from it stretched an oil sheet for roof. The other side is open. I have paved a little yard. I am very comfortable. I give you a plan.
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