Malone’s plan of his bivvy.
Alexander Turnbull Library
In front opening I have the NZ flag I brought with me. It keeps out the Westerly sun, which is very glaring and hot. I rig up cupboards with biscuit boxes. Two on the stone wall, for shaving and washing gear, brushes, and odds and ends. Two along side my bunk for a table, and books and papers. A candle stick inside is protected and hidden, and enables me to read a bit before I go to sleep. I have a blue signal flag, picked up a long way from here for a table cloth. I have actually some flowers. For vase a shell that didn’t break up (shrapnel), about 8 inches high and 3 1/2 inches diameter. My flowers are lovely yellow ones.
But I will enclose some. I am charmed with the lovely flowers here and find time in spite of the fighting to enjoy them. Pick them as I go along. Terry is very well – at present in the front trenches. His troop were being sent on a sort of forlorn hope the other day – just a little local show – but Colonel Meldrum, good soldier that he is [,] saw that it was hopeless and meant certain death to the troops and their leader Hardham VC54 and got the order withdrawn. It was a mad thing. I had heard of it without knowing that Terry was so directly interested, and so appreciated Meldrum’s good judgement, that I made a special visit to see him and shake hands with him over it. It takes a lot of moral courage to point out to superiors mistakes of that sort, and I felt I must go and back Meldrum up. When I heard from Terry the next day that it was his troop that had been detailed for the job, and was actually waiting ready to dash out, I naturally felt glad. They would have gone, but none of them could have come back. It was what I call a “touch wood” business at best, and we can’t afford to play games of that sort here.
Malone and his well-constructed bivouac, Anzac, May 1915. His New Zealand flag was one of a handful at Gallipoli.
Malone Family Collection London
How wonderful everything must seem to you in England. You must my dear first write and give me your impressions. We do so enjoy getting letters, and are always looking out for them. Look after mater well and help her all you can.
With much love
Yr loving father.
25.5.15
My very dear Denis
Many thanks for your letter and painting. You are getting on. Keep it up always. I hope to see you all soon. I miss mummy and all of you very much, but I generally have lots to do. Just now we are having a spell so I can write letters and read them and think about you all. The Turks make a great racket with their guns and rifles, but we hardly notice it now. I see aeroplanes every day sailing up so high, and lots of ships and boats. All sorts of soldiers, I was at a place not long ago where there were lots of French soldiers, and Indians. One night I was out in very heavy rain and had no place to go to to sleep. (We never have any tents only little shelters that we make for ourselves.) It was about 2 in the morning so I and the soldiers with me did the best we could. It was near a landing beach, and there were lots of stacks of food and boxes etc about. I found a little shelter and crawled in and found somebody in it. It belonged to him, but there was room for two, so took it. It was very dark. The man sat up, but didn’t say anything. I thought he was a Turk workman. I think he was frightened. By and bye he put a blanket over me, so I kept dry or rather didn’t get any wetter. I was very wet, and it was fairly warm. I snuggled up against the other man for warmth. I got to sleep. The floor and bed was boards loose and earth. In the morning I got up. The other man was covered up in another blanket, so I didn’t like to wake him up and thank him. I saw an officer outside and gave him 2/- to give to my host, but just then he got up. Wasn’t I surprised. He was a black man, so very black with gold earrings!! And I had been snuggling up to him to get some warmth out of him! Fancy my surprise! Didn’t I laugh. He was nice and clean tho and very tidy. His name Naran Sammey a Madrassee Hindu of the Indian army. Wasn’t that a joke? I went back some days after and got a photo taken of the shelter with me and Mr Naran Sammey alongside. I gave him the 2/- and he was very pleased.
Malone’s young boys drew him pictures of the adventures they thought he was having. These drawings are by Denis, who was eight.
Malone Family Collection London
Goodbye now with lots of love
Yr loving father.
25.5.15
My dear Barney
You haven’t sent me a letter, but I will write you a little one. How do you like England and what did you think of the ship and the voyage? You must write and tell me. I see lots of strange things here too. Big ships and little ones. Aeroplanes and all sorts of guns and things. Soldiers and sailors, mules and horses and donkeys. The other [day] a tortoise called on me. There were 2 or 3 of them living in a bank close to where I slept. I lived in the bank too. There were lots of frogs. I didn’t see them, but they made such a funny croaking not like our frogs. Something like birds with a bad cold. I see such lots of beautiful flowers, and things. The sea and islands and a big salt lake and capes and bays and beaches. Fields red with poppies. Stone houses. Everyone has got a big bakers oven. I am very well, but it is very different to the Farlands – no cows! and therefore no milk or butter not to mention cream. No eggs, no puddings, but we do enjoy our meals and don’t miss anything except mummy and our dear little boys and girls. Pray for your Daddy and perhaps [I will, words missing from carbon copy] see you, if only for a little while.
Lots of love
from your loving Daddy
25.5.15
My dear Mollie,
I got your lovely long letter a day or two ago. It was good of you to send it. I suppose you told me of the big kisses you are making and keeping for me. I hope it will not be long before you can give them to me. I think when we finish here, that we may come to England for a little rest before going to France, and then won’t it be jolly. You must be such a big girl now, and you have seen such lots of new things. I am sure everybody loved you and the boys on the ship that is if you were very good. And I am sure you were. I don’t see any little boys and girls now, and we are where there are no houses, or streets. I can see a Turkish village about 5 miles away, and there was a fisherman’s hut near where we are. The fisherman has gone away, so we don’t get any fish. The fields or some of them are red with poppies and there are such lots of other more lovely flowers. Some day I hope you and mummy and I will come and see them. Terry is very well. Edmond hurt his leg and is still in Egypt.
Goodbye my dear darling Molly.
Lots of love from your very loving Daddy
[MS 4130]
May 26th 1915
Fine day. Everything drying up beautifully. But lots of mud about. Took 3 Photos of the gully. Orders to go on picquet tonight on our left flank. Repaved my yard and put a small water drain in it. Went out and reconnoitered our left flank in readiness and in case of any action tonight. Found one line of trenches but parapet too high for most people to fire over. Suggested to O/C to fix same up and to fix wire right along under which all rifle barrels to be put and so kept down to sweep the ground in advance. I remember Sir Ian Hamilton writing at time of Japan Russia war recommending this.55 I little thought I should be under his command! No support trenches either! We are very casual. Then there are two detached posts on some unconnected ridges a long way in advance. Instead of these having a regular garrison troops go out and come in every night. Too much movement and everybody strange to surroundings, ranges etc.
Went out with Bn at 7.30pm and bivouced close to position. At 3.30am stood to arms and remained under arms until 5am when back to our quarters. A lot of firing in the night at other parts, none on ours.
May 27th 1915
Fine day. Hot. Mud all dried up. Had a sleep to make up for last night. Just heard the Majestic torpedoed by submarine last night. Sunk in 3/4 hours. This at Cape Helles. Presume not much loss of life. Rather dreadful – such – rotten way of going under.56 Wonder how the situation will be met or are we to do without naval support. It hardly seems just, but somehow or another we have got a notion that t
he navy, messes things up and are getting messed up. Grand fellows all the men we meet and “they do us proud” whenever we are near them, but they seem something not comme il faut.57
On our requisition for some sticks of timber to enable us to erect latrines that suit our peculiar and congested circumstance the Ordnance people reply “No timber available”. Yet Home whom I sent to see whether there was not timber about found more than enough for our most urgent and necessary purposes used as lines to dry shirts etc on near Divl HQ! I put a letter into our Brigadier informing him. Let us hope he will shift things. If our sanitation is not fixed up, we are threatened with some serious epidemics of sickness. The lack of sanitation thro’ out this Divn is dreadful. Things are beastly in most places. I can stand a month [of] dead and unburied corpses, but I cannot stand the filthy ways of living beings. McColl rejoined yesterday. He was shot on the 29th April thro the chest high up. The bullet missed every thing.
[MSX 2552]
27.5.15
My dear Hart
I was so glad to get your letter of 17th Inst and to hear that you are getting on well. Don’t come back until you are quite all right.
I am as usual very fit, and apart from the separation from my wife and people very happy. Living as I never lived before sounds brutal, but somehow I don’t think it is....
We are back at our first landing place, and are having sort of 1/2 holiday. The Bn I am proud to say, has come out of the show the most solid of this Bde. A [Auckland] & O [Otago] went all to pieces. C [Canterbury] has not been so sorely tried. The Bn advance at 2nd place was magnificent. Quite a show performance and long steady advance, no lying down, no shooting for over 1200 yds, result minimum of loss, gaining 2/300 yds new ground and hanging on to it. Our officers and men are splendid. Trumps every one. An armistice here day before yesterday at request of Turks to bury dead. Their dead estimated at 3000, and I don’t think it far out. I went and had a count in front of our position. When you got hit I had wanted 2 Turks for every 1 of our casualties and I think we have got it. Some of the poor devils had been killed for nearly a month, and weren’t good to look at. We got poor Wilson’s body and buried it.
The Turks trenches and ours are on some places only 15 yds apart. Funny business, modern warfare, but the Turks ought to be blasted off the slope of the hill in front of us and I don’t understand why they arn’t. I am wondering what the next move will be. We have ordered a 5 set telephone outfit for the Bn, out of R/fund. Hope you will approve. It is an absolute necessity. We have lost too many already for the want of it.
Kindest regards
Yrs W.G. Malone
27.5.15
My dearest
...Sorry your weather was so bad, let us hope that England will give you of its best. As I have already told you I heartily approve all you have done especially taking our little boys with you. I hope you are better than ever, you were on 11th March on the road to recovery. Your letter of 15th March. It was a good idea making the drawing room into your sick room. And so you had almost made up your mind to stay in N.Z. I should have been sorry if you had. N.Z. seems an awful long way off.
It was sad about Austin. I wonder often how Jesse [Austin’s widow] is managing, and whether we can help her. I suppose there was some “compensation” under the Act.
Yes I remember sitting up high away at M [e] [Madame] Barnards with you and how lovely it was, tho if I remember aright you were inclined to poke a little fun at me. We will be together again, surely. I am a lucky being and God will surely answer all the prayers for my safety.
Constantinople is a bit far away yet.
Miss Chapman sent me a little letter of thanks for the things I sent her. You never told me whether you really like the things I sent you and whether they suited you, the colours. I have an idea they didn’t, still it gave me very great pleasure to send them to you. We have no need of money, no sellers and nothing to buy. I want nothing, as a matter of fact I have got too much stuff. All the lovely warm under things you bought for me, will have to wait until I spend next winter in England with you. We have no transport. That is horses and carts and we have to carry everything ourselves, so we are not looking for a load. Don and Billy were sent back to Alexandria, with all the horses and vehicles, none here.
I ought to have written to Mollie for her 5th birthday but somehow didn’t. Your letter March 26th: I hope the 50 nurses on [the] Rotorua58 were nice. They will be useful. I understand some of our wounded are being sent to England. If this is so, do like the good woman you are, go and see them, tell them who you are and give them my best regards. Thank them for me for their splendid conduct here and tell them I am very proud of them and hope that they will speedily recover and come back to us. Tell them I have not forgotten them, but that we have no means of knowing where they are and how they are getting on. Tell them that the Wellington Battalion, has maintained its reputation and in spite of everything retained its morale and came out of two intensely fierce actions spread over 9 days and 5 days respectively a solid fighting force fit for anything. It was the only Battalion out of 8 to gain and hold new ground. It always holds what it takes. This is not by way of boast, but I think it will help our wounded chaps along the road to recovery, and let them know that their services and sufferings was not futile. Don’t fag59 yourself in visiting them. If you pay them one visit, it will be as much I like to ask you to do. I almost wish now I had said nothing about this, and have half a mind not to send this part of my letter. I will let it stand tho’, but your duty is to yourself, our children and to me, to keep strong and well and not to fag yourself and worry yourself over my wounded.
Terry Malone in the uniform of the Wellington Mounted Rifles, 1915.
Malone Family Collection Wellington (now in ATL)
I had to break off at “see” on previous page. Terry called to clean up two Turkish rifles that he had brought in from in front. I had cleaned them, but we oiled them etc and then packed them up with a Turkish officer’s sword that I have got in a bundle ready to send away and to store to take back to New Zealand as mementoes. Terry is very well like his father. He stayed to tea. It was quite late before we finished....
In your letter of 26th March you say “I should so like to know what you think about it, whether you would rather we did not go. But surely you would cable if you felt like that.” Well my dearie, I cabled about I think end of February – heartily approving.
I hope you were not very anxious about the German submarines the risk you took. I think you very properly took, and it shows me how much you love me, tho I didn’t want any proof.
Yes we always thought ‘Anglers Emulsion’ good stuff.
And so at last you managed to dream about me, and your dreams were happy ones. I am so glad. I go to sleep and wake up in the morning, that is when I wake and am not awoken, thinking of you, but some how I don’t dream of you. I think I don’t dream of anything. Generally sleep is precious. My nerves are like steel, so off I go, if it be only for an hour or two, and don’t worry about anything no matter what racket has been or is going on.
I am sorry you were bothered about the letting of The Farlands. I am afraid some of my letters would miss you, but I wrote latterly in duplicate and sent one writing to London and the others to N.Z. Do tell me in detail what letters you got on arrival.
Sergeant McDonnell as you call him (you mean Captain) is quite broken in and is a faithful admirer and hench man of mine now, and all trouble is over and has been for a long time. I severely put him in his place and he now knows it, and is quite a good chap now, and loyal to me. Hard service shakes or drives everything and everybody into its or his place, and there is no mistake about it. One gets one [sic, one’s] level, pretty quickly.
Don’t worry, my dearest, about my having to endure anything. I endure nothing, it is one great pleasure of the best sort. The pleasure – or perhaps “la joie” of living, of doing a new job, of feeling physically and mentally absolutely fit to do it, of doing something for ones coun
try, when it needs the service of its men. There are no real hardships, under the circumstances, or so it seems to me, but I am very strong and can make a joke I have discovered of any capsize. It helps everybody wonderfully if you laugh instead of grouse or grump. I often fume to myself over incompetences that I see and I sometimes let fly but that is the only hardship. The putting up with incompetence – ignorance – neglect or inability.
I feel intensely the separation from you and the children, and long to see you all, but some sacrifice must be made, and that is the one I make. It is to me a big one, but I know you bravely join in its being made. I have been just interrupted by Col F.E. Johnston our Brigadier. He congratulated me on being given a DSO. I am sure, I was going to say I think, you will be glad to know this. I can’t say that I feel that I deserve it. I did my job and worked hard, as I hope I always do and will.
Mail man wants me to finish. He is waiting
With all my love to you
No Better Death Page 23