Part 17

The Turks have started a new form of frightfulness. They shell us every now and then from Asia, and from there last night they dropped into W. Beach a huge shell that detonates with a terrible crash, and every twenty minutes or so they treated us to one of these, and made the whole night hideous, and sleep impossible.

This afternoon a French battleship stationed herself off the entrance to the Dardanelles, and fired about fifty rounds from her biggest guns at a point on a hill about a mile beyond Kum Kale. As the Turkish guns are believed to be in tunnels they were firing practically at right angles to these, and I could not possibly see how they could get a direct hit, and prophesied that as soon as the ship left they would show that there was life in the old dog yet, by giving a worse cannonade than usual, and this was just what happened. No fewer than five shells fell in the C.C.S. beside us, killing the cook, and wounding two orderlies, and a number of the already wounded. I saw several horses and mules fall to their bag also. Then as soon as it got dark they made up their minds that we were not to be allowed to sleep, and every fifteen to twenty minutes we had a terrific crash in the camp up to 5 a.m. This becomes very trying, and all wish that something could be done to silence these guns. Nothing will do but a landing on the Asiatic side.

July 1st.--I came out to Aberdeen Gully after breakfast. Here one feels comparatively safe, and we are enjoying the peace after our nocturnal shellings, and the thought of a good night's sleep braces one up wonderfully. Fiddes and I walked over to the Artillery Observation Post to see the extent of our advance, the other day, and I was surprised to find our front trenches so far forward. Some of these front trenches we still divide with the Turks, and during their attempts to recover some of these last night the darkness of the night and the thunderstorm terrified the Gurkhas so much that they nearly lost their most advanced line.

July 2nd.--Spent a quiet day out at the dressing station--as far as work went. I went over to Y. Beach by the mule track, but as shells were dropping about both these places I returned sooner than I intended. In the afternoon a message from the Turks, dropped from an aeroplane, gave the whole army half an hour to clear out of the peninsula, otherwise they would shell us into the sea. The shelling had to be resorted to, and commencing at 5 p.m. they worked so vigorously that plainly they meant what they said. The artillery duel then started was on this left side, and, our Gully being between the two fires, all the shells went right over our heads, and the shrieking was as bad as any I ever heard. At periods during the three hours this lasted they crossed at the rate of 200 per minute. We were close to three of our own batteries, and these had to be peppered over our heads, and most of the shells being shrapnel, timed to burst in the air, we had many an explosion immediately above us. We all cowered as well as we could up against the rocks, and although shrapnel bullets and half a shell base came among us no one was hit. In spite of all this bombardment, an artillery officer told me next day that all the casualties he knows of are one man and five horses wounded. All these were hit in a small side Gully like our own, a shell bursting in their midst.

Padre Creighton came back tired and hungry at 8.30 and found no supper nor fire to cook it with, the cook's life having been frightened out of him he forgot the necessity for bodily sustenance for the rest of us. I noticed the cook at one time flourishing a spade like a cricket bat, and on asking him what this was for he declared, "You can easy see the bloody thing comin'". He intended to let fly at the first shell that came his way. Creighton in his usual energetic way buckled to, and prepared an excellent supper of fried onions on toast, with a little bacon. This was much enjoyed, as was also the Bivouac cocoa with which it was washed down.

July 4th.--Aberdeen Gully. A glorious Sunday morning. A slight shower during the night has refreshed the air and nature's dusty face, and now, with a brilliant sun and a gentle breeze, one can feel as happy as one can out here, thousands of miles from home--but are we downhearted? No! There is also almost an absolute calm from those noisy death dealers, shots being only very occasional. A big howitzer is going off at times, but apart from that the unnatural silence seems ominous, like a calm before a storm.

Padre Creighton is to-day offering five pounds to a shilling that it will be Christmas before we take Achi Baba. My forecast is we will be there before this day week, while any combatants I have spoken to say it will take us to the end of July. At the present rate we will take months, but in my opinion it will be necessary to push on faster than we have been able to do so far, although I believe by wearing out the Turks slowly our casualties will be less. But a more rapid advance would be a greater help to our comrades fighting in other parts of the Continent.

Afternoon.--Had an excellent lunch cooked by Fiddes, who is a first-rate chef. An officer lunched with us who says he is the last of his battalion. He came in slightly wounded, but his nerves have so completely gone that he says he will never be able to shoot a rabbit again, and sheds tears at the thought of such cruelty. Many will follow in the same condition if we cannot get relief, and out of reach of the Turks' guns for an occasional rest.

July 5th.--We have had a terribly hot morning, we opening the artillery ball at 3.45, when the Turks made an attack on the most important front trench we now hold, and took from them this day last week. Now, at 9 o'clock, things are still very warm, but nothing to what they were during the first three hours, when the fire from both sides was about equal. After the first rush of the Turks the fight has been nothing but an artillery duel.

In Aberdeen Gully, we are wonderfully protected by our high rocks, and natural banks which have been improved by ourselves, and although many pieces of shell have fallen in it to-day no one was hit.

The Turks are said to have suffered enormously, being taken by surprise in a nullah along which they were marching in close formation. An officer with a machine-gun says he alone accounted for about eighty. We have had about twenty-four wounded Dublins so far, some mere boys. Those boys who are slightly hit are in great glee over their prowess, one as he walked proudly in exclaiming, "Py Jasus, we gave them a holy paestin' this mornin'".

Last night we had a call from the M.O. of the Scottish Rifles. He was telling us about the casualties in the Lowland Brigade on Monday last. They went in 2900 strong and only 1200 came out. Their Brigadier and three Colonels were killed. I have spoken to several officers of the Brigade, and they unanimously put this loss down to some tactical mistake. They charged much too soon, and moreover the men had to assault trenches that had never been shelled. This M.O. says he had been speaking to an officer who said he assisted to cut the rope by which one of the Turkish gunners was bound to his machine-gun. To prevent their running away we have heard that they are sometimes tied to their guns by chains.

6 p.m.--I am back again at W. Beach where I find they have had a perfect hell of a time. A big French transport was sunk off this by a torpedo on Saturday.

In the morning after the fight of the 29th I met in The Gully three wounded soldiers of the Lowland Brigade, two of them trying to put a sling on the third, who had a smashed hand. I assisted and asked about their casualties. One said, "We lost our Brigadier, Scott-Moncrieff, did ye ken him, a wee wiry beggar?"

After dinner to-day I walked to the Dublin trenches with Creighton, who was to bury some of the men killed last night. As we passed a workshop and engineers' dump on our way back, Creighton was again asked to bury a man. While he was doing so I sharpened my pocket knife on a grindstone standing by, and asked a soldier if that was all the killed they had last night. "Yes," he said, "and we had an officer buried to-day." "Oh," said I, "when was he killed?" "He wasn't killed at all." "Then why did you bury him?" "A shell blew in a trench on the top of him, but we dug him out, and he was none the worse."

Another mule--but it was a horse this time--toppled down from the path above us this afternoon. He started on his career with his full load, but he had nothing but his saddle when he dumped himself down on the path three yards from my sleeping bunk, after a drop of about 50 feet. I would much rather have a whole mule flying in among us than a chunk of shell. He picked himself up and looked scared, and went away puffing hard, but quite unharmed except for a bleeding nose.

July 6th.--W. Beach. What's wrong? Not a shot in our neighbourhood during the night, and I must have slept seven hours.

Later.--By afternoon we had a few shells, some dropping uncomfortably near--forty-five in all, so many from Achi Baba, and ten huge ones, with big explosions, from Asia. These last were aimed at our ammunition dumps, where some damage was done.

At supper our Q.M. Dickie told us the following little anecdote, which I jot down as it was connected with our Corps. One evening a recruit presented himself at Fonthill Barracks, Aberdeen, and informed the CO.--Captain Robertson--that he wanted to "Jine". "But we are full up," says R. "Oh, I thocht ye wintet men." "Oh well, as you are a likely looking chap, I think I'll take you; when would you like to be examined?" "I'll be examined noo, far's the doctor?" "I'm the doctor," said R. "God," says the chap, "ye dinna look muckle like a doctor." "But why do you wish to join?" "It's jist like this, I hid a dram, an' the maister said I was a damned feel, so I telt him if I wis a damned feel, he wis a damneder, an' he telt me to gang tae hell, sae I jist gaed, an' here I am." "When can you join?" "Weel, this is Saeterday nicht, it wid need tae be Tiesday or Wednesday. Ye see I drive the milk caert, a damned responsible poseeshen." Not much of a story but real Aberdeen.

July 7th.--Had seventy shells to-day on W. Beach, mostly big ones from the "Asiatic Annies"; bag, two killed and three wounded.

July 8th.--W. Beach. Yesterday we had a big mail--great rejoicing.

When we came out of the mess tent to-day at 1.15 we found a great swarm of what we all think must be locusts, but no one is sufficiently well up in zoology to be certain. All are flying inwards in the same direction, as if they had come out of the sea, but it is more likely they have come from Asia, across the Dardanelles. There is a slight breeze and they have difficulty in flying, and are resting everywhere, and bump up against tents and everything that comes in their way, and are not strong flyers. They have powerful grasshopper legs, red from the knee downwards, and an inner pair of wings, which are also red and give the whole animal a red colour when in flight. Now, after an hour, they are still more plentiful, and are flying past actually in myriads.

At 4.30 I got a message to relieve Col. Yarr at Corps H.Q. An aeroplane was drawn up there, and along with myself a second one arrived. Now I am in for a shelling, I said to myself, and I had just entered Col. Yarr's dugout when the first shell exploded a few yards off, and this was immediately followed by two others. Near the middle of the aerodrome a large gun emplacement--or whatever it is--is being dug, which, it is hoped, will draw some of the fire away from here.

The swarm of locusts (?) did not diminish for three hours, when it tailed off. Their bumping into one's face made walking almost impossible.

July 9th.--Head-quarters. We have had a quiet night. The shelling does not commence here till the aeroplanes arrive from Tenedos. Last night at dinner various subjects were discussed, such as the duration of the war. The views of all were very depressing, although no one had the slightest doubt as to the ultimate complete smashing up of Germany, and the longer the war lasted the more complete would the smashing be. One man was sure it would be ended by next spring, another, who had lived long in Macedonia, is positive it will take two years from now. General Hunter-Weston took no part in this discussion, but looked interested and amused while his juniors threshed the subject out. All agreed that it was most laughable to read the forecasts in the papers at home, and that it was only now that England was realising how enormous the task before her was, and that the war will continue till both sides are just about played out, but there can be no doubt of our ability to hold out longest.

The plans for the next big attack were also discussed. The General, who commands the whole army on the peninsula--including the French--arranges all details, under the Commander-in-chief, Sir Ian Hamilton. The dates of former attacks were known to us all several days before they took place, and these invariably reached the Turks. To avoid this more secrecy is now observed, and it amused me last night to hear the General emphasise his dates in a voice that denoted that he did not mean them to be taken literally. This was to bamboozle me, I thought, the only non-combatant present, but occasionally he stumbled. As it was always with regret that I came to know the dates of former attacks some days ahead I was glad to observe this attempt at secrecy. I remember we were once to commence at 7 o'clock, and the Turk let fly at us at 6.45, determined, sensible man, to get in the first blow.

When talking about crushing Germany, all regretted that our country was so soft, and would not crush sufficiently; however, they thought they could rely on Russia and France insisting on this being carried out very thoroughly.

After breakfast I walked down about 300 yards to Helles point, wondering what had come of all our shipping. The hospital ships are there, one small supply ship only, a few mine-sweepers, and close in under the rocks a British and a French submarine, lying beside the keel of the "Majestic". It appears a German submarine had been sighted last night, hence as many of the ships as possible had fled. A French ship is battering Kum Kale, and kicking up a tremendous dust. An officer from H.Q. was regretting the inability of the Navy to help us. At last, I hope, even the Navy has discovered this for themselves, for land operations they are of little use. Then we must rely on our field guns and howitzers, and these only. Another 5-inch howitzer battery arrived last night, I hear, and we have 9.2-inch guns somewhere, but I fail to gather whether these had been actually landed.