<h2 class="p4">CHAPTER XIV</h2>
<p class="pcn">A DIARIST UNDER FIRE</p>
<p class="pch">[There is a peculiar interest in any record of experiences
which is made while they are being undergone. Imperfect
and incomplete though they may be, yet they are of special
value because of their reliability. This is particularly the
case with some of the diaries which have been kept while
the writers were on active service; and extracts from such
a one form this story. The author is Private Charles Hills,
2nd Battalion Australian Infantry. His share in the operations
he describes was necessarily brief, for he was dangerously
wounded, and was partially blinded and invalided to England,
prior to returning to Australia. Just before leaving England
he was examined by a Medical Board, and it was then found
that he was quite blind.]</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct">Lemnos, <i>May 3rd</i>, 1915.</p>
<p class="pn"><span class="beg">We</span> arrived at Lemnos on the evening of the 1st of May.
The place itself is, so far as we can see, just a small
island, amongst a lot of other islands, and is evidently
a meeting-place for a heterogeneous collection of
shipping—cruisers, colliers and cattle-boats. Trading,
trawling and touting seem to be the several
achievements of this mass. We are lying just
inside ... the entrance of the harbour. All night the
searchlights play across. Quite a little storm was
caused by a small torpedo-boat “arresting” a collier
with two shots from her biggest gun. Effective argument
it proved. It seems she had not got her sailing
papers in order. The defect was remedied.</p>
<p class="vh"><SPAN name="f180" id="f180">f180</SPAN></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/ill-221.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="284" alt="" title="" /> <div class="caption"><p class="prcap">[<i>To face p. 180.</i></p> <p class="pc">AUSTRALIANS LANDING UNDER FIRE.</p> </div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>It pleases the boys to see the neatness and quickness
with which the English tars handle their craft, after
the slipshod methods of Chinamen and Lascars.</p>
<p>This is just a small island of, roughly speaking,
45,000 inhabitants, solely Greeks. The most outrageous
street I ever struck—5<i>d.</i> for a copy of a
London daily halfpenny. The least thing seems to be
five piastres.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 4th.</i></p>
<p>Turned terribly cold last night. Sent us all below
to fetch our overcoats. Some of the wounded are
telling us terrible tales of maltreatment by Turks of
prisoners they take. Evidently we are up against
a lot of barbarians. We heard from the front two
days ago that the Australians’ heavy losses were
entirely due to the fact that they charged full speed
for a mile and were not content with that, but they
must needs go and chase the Turks for five miles.
Here they found the position untenable and had to
retreat. During this retreat the Turks poured an
enfilading fire into them and caused such heavy
losses. The Tommy Terriers got just as far and
without the enormous loss of life. Some of our fellows
who left us at Abbasia suffered amongst the rest: one
was killed and several injured more or less. No
doubt their example should be to our profit.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 5th.</i></p>
<p>We have set sail at last, and every one has gone
mad. Of course our destination is unknown. Ammunition
is being served out, and extra guards set
for torpedo-boats and any hostile craft. The weather
is bitterly cold—a vast change from New South
Wales. At present steering S.S.W., 6 p.m.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">8 a.m., <i>May 6th</i>.</p>
<p>Our move proved to be a very short one, and ended
abruptly at about 10 p.m. As soon as we arrived we
could hear distinctly the rolling of the guns, and
sometimes see the flash of the shells bursting. When
morning came we were better able to see where we had
got to. The first thing I noticed was the cold. It
was “some.” The next was the number of boats.
Besides our own we counted seventy-six, warships
included. On looking round we seemed to be in the
Dardanelles itself, but a visit to the map disproved
this theory. It seems to me as though we are in the
Gulf of Saros, and the narrow spit of land forming the
left bank of the Dardanelles was on our right front.
Over this, it seemed that the reports were from the
guns of warships lying in the Dardanelles itself,
bombarding the forts and answering the Turkish
artillery in the hills.</p>
<p>We can plainly see the movements of the troops on
the hills in front of us with the naked eye, although
the distance must be some miles. The air is very
clear....</p>
<p>The warships look positively wicked as they glide
through the water. There are quite a number of
them here. One came up quite close to us this
morning. We could see the paint of the guns, no
doubt used to disguise them and bewilder any aircraft
that may be hovering about over them....</p>
<p>The war is amongst us in real earnest. To-day we
have been treated to what must be one of the most
striking sights to imagine. Upwards of a dozen
warships have been bombarding the coast-line. It
seems as though we were just outside the range of the
enemy’s guns, and through it being such a bright day<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</SPAN></span>
we are able to see everything, and to watch the
marking of the naval gunners and the effect of their
shots. Over fifty transports are above the line of fire,
and we are to land under the guns of the battleships.
Things are just beginning to get exciting. Long rows
of lights are visible. I can only conclude that that
is the enemy’s rifle-fire.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 7th.</i></p>
<p>Well, we have arrived and landed, and contrary
to expectations we have marched straight into the
trenches. The Turks gave us a great reception, and
shelled even the boats we were landing in.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">11 p.m., <i>May 8th.</i></p>
<p>We are now drafted to our respective battalions.
Have spent our first day in the trenches. There was
quite a gathering of the clans when we joined up, and
many old mates were overjoyed to see their friends
unhurt. Since morning we have been treated to a
consistent dispute of artillery and perpetually shelled
with shrapnel and lyddite. The shrapnel is an
awfully destructive projectile.</p>
<p>The Turks seem to be filling up their shells with
any old rubbish—screws, nails, and even old bolts
came in a shell. The worst of it is the occasional
sniper in the surrounding bush. He has several
scores to his credit. We have one good shot looking
for him, and if he only gets a look at him he’ll have
to close his account quickly. The battalion has been
very severely handled, and has lost, roughly speaking,
about half its strength. Officers have suffered far
heavier in proportion to their men, a brigadier,
colonel, two majors and sundry smaller fry have been
put out of mess.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>I can go no further, as my head is fairly splitting
with the noise of shrapnel, lyddite, and the continual
lying down doggo in a dug-out.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">3 p.m., <i>Sunday.</i></p>
<p>Unfortunately Turks don’t observe the Sabbath,
and to-day has been as busy as any other day. To
add to my splitting headache last night, I had
scarcely any sleep at all for the third night in succession—and
the first night in the trenches, with one
hour out of three on the look-out. The consequence
is a man feels thoroughly washed out. The Turks
made one rush against us last night at about 2 a.m.,
and our boys had all to stand up with fully loaded
rifles and bayonets fixed. After a few sharp rounds
of rapid fire, however, they thought better of it, and
retired and sniped the rest of the night.</p>
<p>The strain of your first watch was more intense
than I thought anything could be, and had me fairly
mazed for a time. However, I improved and finished
up fairly well. This morning, after breakfast, Captain
Linklater came along and detailed me for observation
work at the right hand of Lewis. Armed with
a periscope, I stationed myself at one of the observation-places,
and became a target for all the snipers
in the Turkish army, I thought. The place was well
sandbagged and quite bullet-proof from front and
flank, and so I enjoyed a thorough survey of the
surrounding country and benefited much thereby....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">8 a.m., <i>May 10th.</i></p>
<p>This morning we have another job in digging a
small circular pit ten feet in diameter, to accommodate
about four men.... The lieutenant in charge says
it is for a guard-room....</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Barring a little more confidence and a little more
dirt personally the position is unchanged. I am
certainly not as nervous as I was at the beginning,
although I have not been in a charge yet.</p>
<p>We’ve had two Indian Mountain Batteries join
us, and a great acquisition they are, too. Mule-drawn,
they negotiate these hills as easily as the others
do the open roads, and they are more accustomed to
warfare than the Australian boys are. The Turks
won’t reply to them at all....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">4 p.m., <i>May 11th.</i></p>
<p>Our position is unchanged, as far as I can make
out.... Our much-promised “rest” consisted of
navvying a roadway for the artillery, to get one of
their big guns up a hill in position....</p>
<p>The weather has been terrible—a real English
October day; squally thundershowers and as cold
as a March wind, added to which I caught a severe
chill last night, and you will see that I am not as
happy as I could be. I have no doubt there are some
worse off than I, but this is a chronicle of my experiences.
Despite the fact that I am wearing heavy
khaki flannel tunic, and worsted sweater, and flannel
shirt, and another heavy overcoat, I am continually
in a shiver. I am anxiously awaiting further symptoms
to decide whether it is my old friend pneumonia
turned up again. The food (iron rations), corned
beef and biscuits and tea, and sometimes a little jam,
is not conducive to mirth-producing. In the event
of it being pneumonia I suppose it is hospital for me.
Several have gone back already with it....</p>
<p>The exploding bullets are largely being used, and
in consequence the wounds are much more serious.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</SPAN></span>
One of our poor chaps got shot through with one of
them, which must have exploded as it reached him.
Fifteen pieces of lead were found in his head. Quite
dead, of course.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">2 p.m., <i>May 12th.</i></p>
<p>We have spent a quiet morning, after a rotten night.
Sent out at 5 p.m. to dig and shape a trench for an
artillery pit. We started off all right and presently
it began to rain—quite an easy rain, but so wet and
cold. We had no blankets with us, and at 10 p.m.
there came a halt for sandbags to be fetched. On
applying to the artillery officer in charge he considered
they were in too dangerous a position to be fetched
just then, so we camped in the rain, with no protection
other than our overcoats. We waited and waited.
No bags came along, and so we slept until four....</p>
<p>This morning we got orders to lie close, as the
battery and battleships were going to do a bit of
shelling in conjunction. My cold is not changing
much, and the cold of last night would not tend to
improve matters at all....</p>
<p>We heard a great cheering on the landing-stage
this morning. Two battalions of Tommies and the
3rd Brigade, 6000 or so, all told, reinforcing our boys.
Probably we shall get more sleep now. I have not
washed since last Thursday, six days now not shaven.
Some of them have not washed for a fortnight. If you
get down to the beach you are under shot and shell
the same as anywhere else, so you have a dry rub.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 13th.</i></p>
<p>To-day we are back in the trenches in a different
space. The Lieutenant-Colonel had us out and<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</SPAN></span>
inspected us in full equipment. He complimented
us on our fine showing, and also told us that the 2nd
Brigade had distinguished itself down the coast for this
sortie. The news came from him that Sydney had
had high holiday over the display of their men. One
town, Armidale, the home of Colonel Braund, had collected
£365 10<i>s.</i> 6<i>d.</i> for the benefit of the battalion
when we arrived at a decent permanent camp. Saw
many of the old boys to-day, and looking well at that.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 14th.</i></p>
<p>One of our corporals had a remarkable escape from
a shrapnel this morning. He and another man were
sitting outside the orderly-room awaiting the result
of a conference, and they both saw the shell coming.
Private Beech moved out of the way, and the corporal
turned over and got out of the way just in the nick
of time. The shell touched his pants and tore them—another
few inches and he would have been blown
to pieces....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 15th.</i></p>
<p>Quite a quiet night and comparatively still. Had
an encouraging sight. About a mile or so away we
could see our warships shelling flying troops—and a
large body of them, too. Mr. Lowe, our P.C., informed
us that it was the main body of the Turks
retreating before the allied French, English, and
Australian troops. We could see them with the
naked eye from one of our shelter-trenches on the
hills.</p>
<p>The warships’ gunnery was marvellously accurate,
and shell after shell fell in the ranks of the enemy.
There is a large estimated loss amongst the Turks....</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>One of the Turkish officers from a neighbouring
fort having disagreed with some German superiors,
was to have been shot at dawn. In the night he
escaped and gave himself up to the Australians
here....</p>
<p>The view here is magnificent, but to be appreciated
one has to risk one’s neck and get up at four o’clock,
when things are quiet and only a few snipers about....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 16th.</i></p>
<p>The facts and results of the Light Horsemen’s
charge came out this morning. It seems that somewhere
over one hundred went out against the machine-gun
on our left front. It seems ridiculous to send out
a hundred men on a charge against an enemy well
entrenched. Anyway, they got the gun, and lost
seventeen killed and sixty or so wounded and missing.
It was a victory, as a general result, but costly.</p>
<p>To-day our platoon commander, Lieutenant Lowe,
arrived with the telegraphic compliments showered
on us by our enthusiastic population. They could
not have cheered so hard if they had been as dry as
we were.</p>
<p>Water is so scarce that we are allowed only one
pint every twenty-four hours. Out of that we have
to wash, shave, and provide the means of assuaging
a bully-beef thirst. The consequence is I have had
about one wash in about two fingers of water since
I landed, just ten days ago....</p>
<p>Our sniping friends have suffered severely, one
man, a kangaroo shooter, catching four, three of
them in half an hour. They fetch him along the line
now when they happen to spot one.</p>
<p class="vh"><SPAN name="f188" id="f188">f188</SPAN></p>
<div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/ill-231.jpg" width-obs="450" height-obs="341" alt="" title="" /> <div class="caption"><p class="prcap">[<i>To face p. 188.</i></p> <p class="pcap">A BRITISH SOLDIER WRITING IN HIS DUG-OUT. THE HEAP OF STONES AND TWO CROSSES IN THE TOP RIGHT-HAND CORNER MARK THE GRAVES OF COMRADES.</p>
</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>The tinstuff is getting monotonous, and I have
broken a tooth on those infernal biscuits. Apart
from that we have not had much to complain about.</p>
<p>The weather is getting hot in the day and not quite
so cool at night, and ever so much more comfortable.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 18th.</i></p>
<p>Snakes have made their appearance, though they
are small and nervous compared with the Australian
specimen. Water is horrible, but, thank God, the
weather is cooler, except just at midday, and does
not entail a great thirst. Our rations make up for
that. Boiled bacon has been added to the menu
and is somewhat salt, and that, added to the dryness
of our biscuit, and your ration of one pint per day,
is —— small. In the tucker respect we are much
better off than our opponents, who seem to be ill fed,
ill clad, and, as usual, ill paid.... The drawback is
washing....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 19th.</i></p>
<p>Official reports to hand announce that Gallipoli
is in ruins, owing to a very severe bombardment from
the guns of <i>Lizzie</i> and a few of her ilk. There is
absolutely no room for argument about <i>Lizzie</i> being
effective. She is a whole army and navy in herself.
At the outbreak of hostilities here the authorities were
much troubled by the enemy having an armoured
train armed with heavy guns, and of course extremely
mobile. After it had done much damage
<i>Lizzie</i> got her eye on it, and three shots put paid to
its account. Their gunnery is little short of marvellous.
The boys here are astounded because she puts
her shells right over the strip of land we are on, and
drops them on some unsuspecting vessel in the Narrows,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</SPAN></span>
seven or eight miles away. To get the line of fire
and sight it is necessary to use aircraft. We have
the great Samson himself here, squinting in the air
for us, and are splendidly served in this respect. The
Turks gave him a great reception last night, and
every piece of gunnery was turned in his direction.
Fortunately he was unhurt, being miles off range.</p>
<p>I drew my first issue of tobacco and cigarettes
to-day—two packets of cigarettes and 2oz. of tobacco
and a box of <i>fifteen</i> matches! Very welcome to a
smoker, and I have no doubt they will secure many
blessings in the future....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 20th.</i></p>
<p>Contrary to expectation the Turks came again,
and in large lumps, too. They gave us a perfect
fusillade at tea-time last night—rifles, machine-guns,
and artillery kept it up till dark. Then we being in
the second line of defence (or supports), went to bed.
About twelve o’clock Wednesday they started again,
accompanied by bombs and machine-guns and rifles.
They fairly lighted the night up, and as for row—Bedlam
let loose was not in it.</p>
<p>The bombs gave us a bad moment or two. They
did not kill any one, but threw up such clouds of
dust that we were literally blinded; and then the
main attack started at about 2 a.m. on the right and
developed all along the row of trenches. A lull
occurred till about 3 a.m.</p>
<p>We stood to arms, and then it really began.</p>
<p>First they chanted their war-cry and called on
Allah and blew on a little tin trumpet. It sounded
terribly weird at that time of the morning—it was
pitch dark. We could only stand at our loopholes<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</SPAN></span>
and strain our eyes to peer into nothingness. Firing
continued in a desultory manner. All of a sudden
their front wing was in the first line of trenches,
which were about eighty yards in front of ours.</p>
<p>Half blinded by the dust and choked by the gas,
the boys stuck to it like Britons, and sometimes staved
the Turks off. Three Turks did manage to get in
B Company’s line, but they did not manage to get
out again. By this time we had got our bearings,
and then the boys settled down to steady firing.
Never heard such a noise. I was strained to the
utmost pitch of excitement. Times again they
managed to get up to the earthworks, but failed to
get into the line.</p>
<p>The German officers hooted them on and beat
them with their swords; but after the terrible hail
of shot one could not be surprised at their jibbing.
Two or three officers were shot, with their hard
black helmets, proving beyond doubt their nationality....</p>
<p>Last night was a mixture of prayers and curses.
Some of the boys yell for Turks to come on—they
had some “back at work” shot for them.</p>
<p class="p2">The action was continued all day. Casualties
were few, owing to excellent cover....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1">5 a.m., <i>May 21st</i>.</p>
<p>All night long we were waiting for them to come
again, but the lesson had been too severe. All day
yesterday they sniped and got a few, amongst them
our special shot.... I have got the knack of keeping
awake all night.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>They have landed some 6-inch howitzers from the
naval boats, and these are manned by marines.
Firing lyddite, and manned by experts, they gave
the Turks the time of their lives. The Turkish
artillery is outclassed by them. Their big guns on
the forts by the shore have a moving platform and
consequently were hard to find; however, the boats
got wind of where they were, and they started to
shell our fellows last night at dusk. The tars saw
their flash and fired three shells. Have heard
nothing of them since, so suppose they hit something....</p>
<p>Last night passed away uneventfully. Just a
little rain of bullets now and then. Also the enemy
fired a new kind of shell, believed to be melinite,
which stifles a man to death and does not hit one at
all. Nice respectable death, after the manner of
some deaths!</p>
<p>A rain set in early this morning and brought
attendant miseries with it, mud and dampness and
general cussedness of every one concerned.</p>
<p>The beggars had the cheek to come over yesterday
and demand that we surrendered. After such a
pommelling as we gave them two days ago this is
colossal. I think they just wanted to spy out a bit
more of the defences.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>Sunday, May 23rd.</i></p>
<p>There is a furious bombardment going on out in
the harbour. The warships are all standing in close
and tackling the last of the main Turkish forts and
strongholds in the Dardanelles....</p>
<p>Quite a minor excitement was caused by the arrival
of some submarines, supposed to be the pair that<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</SPAN></span>
slipped by Gibraltar some days ago. The fact that first
drew our attention to them was the small or mosquito
craft which were running all round in circles, and the
bigger vessels were all on the move. Nothing was
heard as to whether they were captured or sighted
again. I suppose the idea was to keep a good look
out and also to provide a much more difficult mark
than if they were standing still.</p>
<p>I had a night’s sleep last night, the first undisturbed
since we landed sixteen days ago. I feel splendid this
morning, Sunday—not much like our usual one,
though. I absolutely pine for St. John’s, Wagga
Wagga, for their singing and for one hour of Canon
Joe Pike. Tommy Thornber is with me in this
respect. The most profitable hours of my life were
undoubtedly spent there....</p>
<p>The Turks around us are very quiet to-day. It
is Sunday, so they ought to be.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>Empire Day, May 24th.</i></p>
<p>Peculiar thing—the long-expected armistice arrived
to-day, instead of yesterday.... I, being of
fair size, was one of the assorted few who were to
form the burial party. We set out at 8 a.m., and
started carting the Turks to their own lines and
handing them over to their friends. To attempt to
describe the condition of the bodies, some of them
having lain out in the sun for twelve or fourteen days,
some of them since they landed a month ago, would be
futile....</p>
<p>A line of flags was drawn equidistant from both
lines, and each party of men kept between their line
and the centre line of flags. As this line of flags was
made up by one Turk and one Australian alternatively,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</SPAN></span>
we had a good view of live Turks. In point of physique
they are not our superiors, as I imagined, but of a
stock top-heavy—all-chest-and-no-legs sort of build;
dark almost to blackness, with such a variety of
casts of feature that they cannot be said to possess a
distinctive one.</p>
<p>The officers are undoubtedly German—that is, the
principal; and a scowling, evil-looking lot they are,
though some of them attempted to ingratiate themselves
with our boys by offering cigarettes and so on.
The body-carting finished about one o’clock, and
such work as exchanging ... equipment has been
going on.</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 25th.</i></p>
<p>The submarine that was reported three days ago
got in her work on the <i>Triumph</i> this morning at
about 12.30, and she sank in seven minutes. The
loss has thrown quite a gloom over the trenches here
in camp. Our boys could see the survivors struggling
in the water and saw the old ship sink, and could
not raise a hand to help them in their trouble. As a
loss to the Navy it was not a big one, as she was one
of the older class of vessel, and from what I can gather
we did not lose many of the crew....</p>
<p>I snatched about an hour’s sleep this morning, or
I should have seen the disaster to the <i>Triumph</i>....</p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 26th.</i></p>
<p>The number of men lost was only fifteen in the sinking
of the warship yesterday.... Our socks are stuck
to our feet, and the blend of the smell of our socks,
chloride of lime, and dead Turks is a subject for a
connoisseur....</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</SPAN></span></p>
<p class="pr4 reduct p1"><i>May 27th.</i></p>
<p>To-day we have had our welcome spell. Never
before did men stretch out to enjoy sleep in such
circumstances. Our resting trenches are about half
a mile away from the firing-line, and the only danger
is from spent bullets, whizzing by too high to hit the
trenches, and just beginning to drop as they get to us.
After the first line that is easy.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />