15 - August 21-29, 1915.

15 - August 21-29, 1915.  
Gallipoli Diary, by John Graham Gillam.  
Even during the horrors of the brutalizing industrialised slaughter of the First World War the Gallipoli campaign stands as a benchmark for the awful conditions and savage fighting that occurred. The narrow strips of land that the British, Australian, New Zealand and other Dominion troops tried to wrest from the dogged Turkish defenders was under constant shellfire and every item had to be dragged to the frontline under this hellish barrage. Captain (as at the time) Gillam was part of the supply service who risked their lives to get, food, clothing and ammunition up to the troops in the front-line. Gillam gives a clear, concise account not only of the dangers that he faced, but also the men that he served so ably in the front-line.  

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Section fifteen of Gallipoli Diary. This is a LibriVox recording.
All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more
information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox dot org. Recording
by Sue Anderson. Gallipolidary by John Graham Gillum, section fifteen

(00:23):
August twenty first to twenty ninth nineteen. Fifteen August twenty first,
I awake at two a m. And find a blaze
of lights on our starboard, and so sleepy am I that,
for the life of me I cannot make out what
is happening or where I am. There seem to be
thousands of little fairy lamps, and at first I think

(00:45):
that we are entering an English watering place alongside an
illuminated pier. Coming to my senses, I find that we
are passing close to three hospital ships, which are always
illuminated at night, and entering a small bay. After a
lot of maneuvering, we get off into lighters and are
towed for a mile, coming finally alongside an improvised pier,

(01:07):
where we disembark, thence on to a sandy beach where
inquiries are made as to our future. I go off
in search of a supply depot, but can only find
one belonging to the eleventh division. The brigade move off
inland to a place called Chocolate Hill, the other side
of a salt lake, and I lie down for an
hour behind some hay. I awake at five a m.

(01:31):
Get up and shake myself and wander about, endeavoring to
gain some information. I find Panton, with whom I go
up on to the high ground behind the beach. I
learn that this is called Sea Beach. It is a
small beach flanked on its north side by a high
rocky promontory called Lalla Baba, the other side of which

(01:52):
is souv La Bay. Sous La Bay is in turn
flanked on its north side by a high rocky promontory
jutting nearly two miles from the mainland into the sea.
Where the bay washes the mainland, there starts a salt
lake looking like a large flat sandy plain, evidently under
water in the winter. In the background are high rocky

(02:14):
hills covered with gorse, looking beautiful in the early morning sun.
At the foot on the left and right of the
salt lake lies meadow land with occasional clusters of olive groves.
The hills on the promontory to the north of Suvla
Bay continue in a range inland curving round the lowland
immediately in front of us, when to the right of

(02:35):
where I am standing, they join and rise to a
high peak called Seri Bear Seri Bear, which commands the
right of our line. For I learn we are on
the low land sweeps down to the Australian's position at
Anzac or Gabatepe. One or two smaller hills from fifty
to one hundred feet high, stand near to us, rising

(02:58):
out of the low meadow and wooded land. Some are
in our hands and some are still Turkish. One hill
in particular, lying at the other end of the salt
lake inland from its center, is called Chocolate Hill, and
I learned that division headquarters are to be there to night.
I hear also that there is to be a battle

(03:18):
to day. Many troops are landing, including a whole division
of Yeomanry, amongst whom are the Warwicks, Worcesters and Gloucesters.
I meet one of our division headquarters staff, and he,
with panton, proceeds to Chocolate Hill, while I continue to
make inquiries as to where I am to go. Nobody

(03:39):
appears to know or to care, and so I go
to the top of Lalla Baba and have another look round.
On the opposite side of the bay, I see the
promontory alive with troops. In the center of the bend
of the bay, I see hospital tents pitched. Four battleships
are at anchor in the bay, together with a few

(03:59):
transports and supply ships. They are shut in and protected
from submarine attack from the outer sea by a boom
of submerged nets stretching between the ends of two flanking
promontories over the wooded lowland. Now and again there begins
to burst turkey shrapnel. Half way up the promontory. On

(04:20):
the opposite side of the bay, I see stacks of
supply boxes. I go back to Sea Beach and call
at the depot to make further inquiries, and learn that
the supply depot that I have seen on the other
side of the bay is on a beach, and as
no orders have been received to feed the twenty ninth
from Sea Beach depot, the a beach depot must be

(04:43):
my destination. As I stroll across Sea Beach, I notice
a damaged aeroplane around which men are clustering, inspecting it
with curiosity. A naval lieutenant comes up and clears them away,
saying to me that if only a few men collecting
together in a bunch, they are very soon shelled by
a Turkish six inch gun on Serre Bear, which commands

(05:07):
the beach. I walk up to the back of the
beach once more and start for a tramp round the
bay to the supply depot that I see in the distance.
It is to be a long tramp, and I feel
a bit tired and devilish hungry. On the other side
of Lalla Baba, I pass eighteen pounder batteries in position

(05:27):
hidden from the enemy by little rises of the ground
and screened from aeroplane observation by gorse bushes. Their position
tells me that our front line cannot be very far inland.
Presumably the same thing has happened that happened at Hellas
on April twenty fifth. We have got on shore all right,

(05:48):
but that is all. The Turks hold all the prominent
positions and appear to have us in the hollow of
their hands. I walk along on the sandy beach, very
tiring for my feet until I reach Bee Beach, which
is in the center of the beach, running between the
two promontories of the bay. There I come to a

(06:08):
casualty clearing station of the Welsh Division. I am dog
tired and almost faint from hunger and call in begging
some breakfast. They tell me breakfast is at eight and
make me lie down to get an hour's sleep, for
it is seven o'clock. At eight I wake up and
join the officers at breakfast. Hot cocoa without milk, for

(06:30):
milk is reserved for the patients, bacon, biscuits and jam.
No bread has been issued at Suvla up to now.
I then learned some news. We had actually taken the
high hills on the left of on Afarta village, which
lies just behind the lower hills in front of us.
The Gurkhas and Australians had actually been on top of

(06:52):
Serree Bear had been treated to the joy of looking
down on to the Dardanelles on the other side. Something
went amiss. Our troops had to retire and now our
line ran from the hills on the left of the bay,
but about a mile and a half inland on the mainland,

(07:12):
dropping down to the lowland in front, continuing in front
of Chocolate Hill, which was ours, across the lowland on
the right of Chocolate Hill, then running gently a short
way up the slope of Serre Bear, finally joining hands
with the ANZACs in position some distance up the slope
of the hills in front of Gaba Tepe. Burnt Hill,

(07:36):
a small eminence in front of Chocolate Hill is to
be attacked to day. This is so named because of
the gorse which had been burnt by the shelling at
the landing. We saw this burning gorse from Hellas on
the seventh and eighth. Once Burnt Hill was ours, the
Turks would be forced to retire to Anapharta. A further
attack on our part would capture Anapharta and the high

(07:58):
hills on our left, enabling the ANZACs to capture Serrie Bear.
Thence Tomatoes Hatchibaba cut off, and the Dardnell's forced. I
am just about to leave, thanking them for their hospitality,
when shrapnel burst outside overhead. I say to them, surely
this hospital does not get shelled, And they tell me

(08:20):
that now and again a stray shrapnel does burst here,
but that they are shelling A small column of carts
passing along the beach, a small cluster of horsemen riding
in salt lake, or a few men passing over the
flat wooded country. No target appears too small for their shrapnel.
Even people bathing the shore in the center of the

(08:42):
bay is within easy reach of their field gun shrapnel,
but as a rule they respect this Welsh hospital, though
it is within full view and easy range of their guns.
I continue my walk and keep close to the water's
edge for shrapnel. Now and again bursts not more than
a hundred yards inland. I reached the supply depot that

(09:04):
I had seen from Lalla Baba and learned that we
are now ninth Corps. That I have arrived at the
core reserved supply depot on a beach that they get
shelled regularly every day. Also that Folly and Way are
further up the road towards the end of the promontory.
I walk up there and find them sitting in a

(09:26):
small depot that they have formed with a little camp
of wagon covers and ground sheets supported by logs obtained
from a broken lighter. I feel glad to see them.
O'Hara comes up soon after with Badcock, who is over
from General Headquarters to get transport in order. Having been
here since the landing, we make ourselves a little more

(09:47):
comfortable during the morning. A bivouac for Whey and myself
is made of a tarpaulin stretched over bulks of timber,
forming a little house open at the sides. We are
out of range of shrapnel, but I learned that high
explosive and howitzer shells often come our way. In the morning,
I see Cox, who has returned from Alexandria, and learn

(10:09):
that the eighty eighth Brigade are not to be in
action to day, for which I am thankful. We get
ready to send up rations by army transport carts and
pack mules to night. At one o'clock, Way goes up
to see his brigade headquarters, the eighty sixth on Chocolate Hill.
The eighty seventh and eighty eighth are there as well,

(10:30):
and division headquarters and headquarters of other brigades, and the
side of the hill must be very congested. I can
see hundreds of troops sheltering on the low ground by
La Lla Baba across the bay two thirty the four
battleships and all our guns on shore open a heavy
bombardment on the Turkish position on the hills in front,

(10:53):
and especially on Burnt Hill, And an hour later the
gorse on that hill and on the low ground to
the right of Chocolate Hill, catches a light and is
soon burning like a roaring furnace, spreading like the fire
on a prairie. At three thirty I hear rifle fire
and learn that our attack on Bird Hill has started.
The artillery simultaneously increases its range. The bombardment, however, does

(11:19):
not ring so confidently as did our bombardment in the
victorious Battle of June twenty eighth, nor does it appear
to be so powerful. I see the Yeomanry now marching
steadily in open order across the Salt Lake. It is
the first time that they have been in action. Several
years ago I was a trooper in the Warwickshire Yeomanry,

(11:41):
who are now with the rest marching into battle. The Worcesters, Gloucesters,
Middlesex Sharpshooters, Sherwood, Foresters, Knots and Derby are there, and
I think several other regiments, all troopers and troop leaders
on foot their horses left in Egypt. Little did they

(12:02):
think when they trained on Salisbury Plain for cavalry work,
that when the hour came for them to go into battle,
they would go in on foot as infantry. When they
did their regular fourteen days annual training, some of their
friends used to laugh at them, saying that they were
playing at soldiers. What I see before my eyes now

(12:24):
is no play. Yet they looked the same as they
did on Salisbury Plain. Ah, the real thing for them
has come at last, though many of them only landed
this morning. For I see a white puff of shrapnel
burst over their heads. It is quickly followed by another
and another, developing to a rapid concentrated fire. They run

(12:49):
the gauntlet without losing their Salisbury Plains steadiness, except for
an occasional bunching together here and there. Soon casualties occur,
and prostrate cacky figures can be seen lying on the
sandy salt of the lake for the stretcher bearers and
ambulance wagons to pick up the harvest of war. At

(13:11):
last they are at Chocolate Hill, where they nestle under
its slopes for protection till further orders. At six p m.
Way returns and tells us that Chocolate Hill was red
Hell while he was there, smothered in shrapnel and flying bullets.
That an officer in division headquarters had been killed quite

(13:31):
near him. But O'Hara is safe. It was not safe
for way to leave until five o'clock dusk arrives and
the moon is rising. Major Badcock is going up with
kit for division headquarters to Chocolate Hill on four little
box cars, and I ask if I can go with
him to see my brigade headquarters. He gives me a lift,

(13:53):
and off we go along the bumpy track from the
promontory to the mainland. When bending to the right, through
clusters of trees and in and out of gorse bushes
and boulders, we arrive at last on the flat, growthless
plain of the salt Lake. Instead of being heavy going
over soft sand, as I thought it would be, it

(14:14):
is very good going over a hard binding surface, and
we get along at a fine pace, which, in the
moonlight on such an occasion, is very exciting and enjoyable.
Soon I see the shadow of trees and cultivation and
know that we are nearing Chocolate Hill, and almost at
the same time I hear and almost feel the unpleasant

(14:37):
whizz of many bullets overhead. About and around. We stop,
but the noise of the pulsating engines of the car
drowns all other sounds, and we walk a little way
in front and hear the regular rattle of heavy rifle fire.
The spot where we are standing is receiving the benefit
of the overs, many of which kick up the dust

(14:59):
around now and again shall scream over, but not many.
We drive on to the trees in front and dump
our kit. At this point the bullets are flying fairly high,
and we feel safer, though I expect all the time
that blow of a sledge hammer which comes with a
hit of a bullet. We unload the kit by some trees,

(15:22):
and some men nearby are instructed to go to the
division and tell them that the first batch of their
kit had arrived, and one man is left in charge.
We turn to go back and I notice a wounded
man on a stretcher being carried away, and I ask
them to put him in the car. I offer him water,
but he refuses, saying that he has been hit by

(15:44):
a shrapnel bullet in the stomach and water makes him vomit.
His voice sounds familiar to me. I look at his face,
I ask him if he is howl of the Warwickshire Yeomanry.
He replies, Yes, we rode next to each other years
ago as troopers. Many wounded are lying here, there and everywhere,

(16:06):
and we load up our empty cars with as many
as we can, and steadily and gently go back, firing
dies down. It was only wind up on the part
of the Turks. I leave Howell at the Welsh casualty
clearing station on the Bee Beach. He is quite cheerful.
His experience of actual war started when he had landed

(16:28):
this morning and ends now as he lies wounded waiting
to be properly attended to, and he had trained and
given up his spare time for years past for these
few hours. He shakes me by the hand. After this war,
I do not think that people will be amused at
the playing of soldiers of Yeomanry and territorials. Back at

(16:53):
the beach, I load the four cars once more with
Division headquarters kit, and off we proceed on a second journey.
I am alone in charge this time, for Badcock has
to go up to core headquarters. The full moon brilliantly
lighting up everything, helps us to get along at a
good pace. On arrival at the trees on the other
side of the salt lake where we had dumped the

(17:15):
first loads. I find no signs of this first batch,
and a few men about appear to know nothing whatever
about it. We go steadily along, feeling our way carefully,
for there is no road towards Chocolate Hill. I leave
the cars two hundred yards from Chocolate Hill and walk
the rest of the way. I pass men hard at

(17:37):
work digging a trench. I arrive at the foot of
the hill and find it congested with all manner and
kinds of parts of units of an army. There are
some infantry of our brigade awaiting orders, mule carts with
drabbies sitting cross legged unconcernedly thereon. Bullets do not appear
to worry them. I believe they think they are butterflies.

(18:01):
A first line dressing station is chalk full of wounded,
and the medical officers are hard at work attending to
the cases. Signal stations are tap tamping and buzzers buzz buzzing.
I walk up the slopes of the hill, wending my
way past dugouts all around to my right and left
and above, in which are headquarters of various brigades, I

(18:25):
step over poor broken dead men lying nestling in the gorse,
and curse from the bottom of my heart the rulers
of the German Empire. And seeing an officer standing outside
a dugout, I inquire for Major O'Hara of the twenty
ninth Division, and am told that he will be back shortly.

(18:45):
I then ask for eighty eighth headquarters, and he comes
along with me to help me look for them. We
find them eventually, and I learned that rations have been received.
I also learned that the day has not gone well
with us, but that we will probably attack at dawn,
and that the eighty eighth will this time be in action.

(19:06):
The Yeomanry, shortly after arriving at Chocolate Hill, had gone
up beyond to our front line, under a terrible fire,
but in perfect order, quietly and orderly as if on parade.
We had not advanced our position, which was the same
as before the battle. The gorse is burning fiercely on

(19:28):
my right, lighting up the immediate neighboring country. Several wounded
were caught in it and burnt to death before they
could be rescued, but many were saved, and some gallant
deeds were done in their rescue. Sir John Milbank, Victoria
Cross has been killed practically His last words were, great Scott,

(19:48):
this is a bloody business. We go back to the
dugout of division headquarters, where we find O'Hara and also Bray,
the assistant Provost Marshal. I had often heard of Brace
several years before the war, for my brother in law
was his pupil. He asks me if I am any
relation to his pupil's wife, and so we meet and

(20:09):
are introduced. I hand the kit over to Bray. I
am instructed to go back and fetch up two of
the cars loaded with tins of water for a trench.
As I leave, a rattle of musketry again bursts out
from the jumpy enemy, and bullets zip past, seeming to
come from all directions. Parties which have been standing about

(20:30):
in the open move for cover. I again load up
my four cars with wounded, one case being that of
a man who has just been hit in the leg
while digging in the trench that I had just passed
back at a beach. I apply for water at the
water dump and am told that it cannot be issued
without a chip from the officer. Where is the officer

(20:52):
in his dugout. Where is his dugout? Two hundred yards
up the beach. Arrive at officers dugout. Officer asleep, wakened up,
can't have water without chip from cor I reply, I
shall get my water and at once, please. He replies,
what's that? I repeat, I am refused to chit. I

(21:16):
politely explain that the reason he is peacefully enjoying his slumber,
undisturbed by Turkish bayonets is because our tommies are in
the front busy, seeing that the Turks do not come
over our line and rush the trenches. Also that some
of those tommies want water, and that I have been

(21:37):
instructed to take it to them. The water loaded on
two cars, the other two holding kit off. We proceed
once more on our third trip, but alas the moon
dips down into the sea, a shout from behind and
a car full of kit overturns in a trench. It
is left with the driver till morning. On we go,

(21:59):
first bumping into large stone boulders, then into large clusters
of thick gorse, and two more cars are finally out
of action in deep holes. On I go with a
third car, groping our way across the salt lake, for
it is now pitch dark, and at last, when near
the advanced dressing station, flames spurred out from the bonnet

(22:21):
of the car and halting. We find something of fire
in the almost red hot engine. We stop. I walk
over to the dressing station. There is not much firing,
only an occasional sing of a bullet and no shells.
I learned that they are getting water now from a well,
but want receptacles. I off load my tins from the

(22:43):
car into an ambulance wagon, which proceeds up to Chocolate Hill,
two hundred yards away. We wait until the engine is
quite cool, and then grope our way back. Dawn is
breaking and it becomes gradually lighter. Arriving at my bivy,
I fling myself on my camp bed and am fast

(23:03):
asleep in two seconds. August twenty second. We did not
attack at dawn, and so the eighty eighth have not
been in action. We are as we were. Yesterday's battle
is not to be recorded as a victory for US.
Machine guns again from right, left and center, fired from

(23:24):
behind great boulders of stone and hidden hillocks covered with gorse,
and wave after wave of our men were mowned down
as with a Scythe twice we captured the Burnt Hill,
but twice were driven off, and Burnt Hill remains Turkish.
The Yeomanry were unable to get to grips with the
enemy but for gallantry in that march from Chocolate Hill

(23:48):
to our front line, four hundred yards in front, across
the open, in the daylight, under a hail of shrapnel
and machine gun bullets. Their behavior could not have been excepted.
Their officers represent the best blood of England, and their
men good old country blood of the hunting and farmer

(24:08):
class of old England. With many a man of good
birth in the ranks. How could such men behave otherwise
than gallantly To night I take up the remainder of
Division headquarters Kit to their new quarters, not so far
forward as Chocolate Hill, to a rocky hillock covered by
gorse inland from the mainland, a distance of about a mile,

(24:30):
in a line with our promontory. The place, if found
out by John Turk, will prove to be a perfect
shell trap, and the shells bursting on solid rock will
burst some. They will be foolish to stay there. August
twenty fourth to day we had a terrific thunder storm,

(24:52):
forked lightning all over the sky and heavy rain, but
it lasted only an hour. We chose a new sight
further up the side of the slope of the promontory,
yet under cover of a slight rise of ground. The
formation of the land here is full of dips and rises,
not noticeable from a distance, and thereby affording excellent cover,

(25:14):
for which we thank Providence. We have to move, for
the core reserved depot is getting such an unhealthy spot
on a beach that it is shortly moving to where
we are now. All day long, the battleships pop off
at the Turks on shore, the row from the guns
echoing and rebounding with deafening reverberation from the hills and

(25:36):
sides of the promontory. I go up with rations to
our brigade to night, a beautiful night, with a convoy
of mule carts driven by the imperturbable Drabbis who merely
chant Indian songs. The moon at night simplifies our work considerably.
By day, it is dangerous for transport to go far afield.

(25:58):
August twenty fifth, It is now four long, terrible months
since we landed and we are still on the lowlands
at the three landings. The positions in front of us
are formidable, almost impregnable, and unless the Balkan states are
drawn in on our side, never shall we open the Dardanelles.

(26:21):
The task is now impossible for us, and we have
lost our opportunity at the start by only landing with
one division. Our effort has failed. Though we have made
good our landing. The shipping here gets sheld as at Hellas,
and this morning a battleship was hit twice. We can
hear heavy firing down at Hellas August twenty sixth. Everywhere

(26:46):
everybody is hard at work making dugouts in the line.
Our infantry are feverishly making a line of defense, digging
night and day without cessation. A beach gets shelld but
no shells reach our end of the promontory. Our battleship's
guns were out continually all day, as if in sullen

(27:07):
anger at the recent failure. At what I am afraid
will be our last effort. My brigade has moved over
from Chocolate Hill and is in the line on the
low part of the slope of the high hills which
form the left flank next to the sea of our
position and brigade headquarters is dug in behind a hillock
in a gully which has been called Lone Tree Gully.

(27:31):
August twenty seventh, a violent gale blowing today, Carver, Pietro
and Phillips are now here. As transport officers. Work on
the beaches now goes on feverishly night and day. Each
day a new sandbag dugout appears. Additions are made to
the piers too off West Beach are complete. One further

(27:54):
up towards the end of the promontory is being built
rapidly and skillfully by a brigading part party of regular
Australian Army engineers. I am told by their warrant officer
that there is a regular Australian Army, but that it
is being jealously guarded in Australia, and that really it
is only a framework of an army. The bridging section, however,

(28:17):
at Suvla, is part of this. The fighting Army of
Australia and New Zealand is voluntary since the war, yet
is superior in fighting qualities to the Prussian Guard. Further up,
towards the end of the promontory, two small beaches or
coves are rapidly being turned into fitting order to receive
the steady requirements of food, ammunition, small arms, ammunition stores, ordnance,

(28:43):
et cetera. And peers there are rapidly being thrown out.
At night. Long convoys of army transport carts and pack
mules form up, loaded with rations, army service corps and
ordnance stores and ammunition, and proceed along the promontory towards
the mainland. On arrival there, they branch off in various
directions to their respective destinations. Just behind the line. Early

(29:08):
on their journey they encounter the song of bullets flying
from the Turkish line continually all night. I think that
the Turks in the front line must be given so
many rounds of ammunition and told to loose off in
the air in our direction, not aiming at anybody, but
firing blindly in the hope of a victim. Now and

(29:29):
again a bullet does find a victim, But on going
up regularly each night, one gets so accustomed to the
sound of their flight that one walks on taking no notice,
although if by any chance a rifle is pointing directly
your way, even at a thousand yards range. It sounds
as if it is fired close to your head, and

(29:50):
almost simultaneously, who pin goes past you very near, and
then unconsciously you duck. The drivers on the Army transport carts, however,
worry about the bullets less than anybody remaining sitting on
their carts and chanting away contentedly to night. Trouble with
water occurs, and I am up with O'Hara and Hadau,

(30:11):
our staff captain at Brigade headquarters on the job. Our
headquarters now are at Lone Tree Gully, about four hundred
yards behind our front line. One is quite safe there
unless they choose to shrapnel it. But a gully in
front was badly shrapneled the other day and the Royal
Scots being caught in it were severely mauled. Further back

(30:33):
on the road, though for some distance, one has to
walk along through a zone of overs, and too found
a target to night in a sergeant and corporal on
transport duty. As I walk along that road, I am
always ready waiting for the sledge hammer blow from the
unseen hand, always hoping that it will be a blighty

(30:53):
one through the soft part of the arm or leg.
A large proportion of our water to be brought ashore
by water lighters, pipes leading from them to the shore.
Tanks are filled from the pipes, and all kinds of
receptacles filled from the tanks, such as petrol cans, milk cans, phantasies,

(31:14):
and goat skins. The cans can be loaded onto the
army transport carts, while the phantasies and goat skins are
loaded onto mules, in each case two on a mule,
one hanging on either side. The army transport cart form
of transport is much preferable to the pack mule, for
the latter is fond of bucking and throwing off his load,

(31:37):
which on a dark night on convoy means great trouble.
The engineers are hard at work finding wells, but such
wells as we have cannot by any means supply even
half of the requirements of water. After we have turned
into night, we hear a heavy roar of musketry from Anzac,
and soon the battleships and shore batteries join in. It

(32:00):
is a clear night, and the roar of the musketry
echoes over the bay remarkably loudly. I have never heard
such concentrated rifle fire so loudly before it lasts for
about two hours and then dies suddenly away to the
incessant crack crack crack of the regular nightly rifle fire.

(32:23):
August twenty eighth, gale still high to day, I with
Foley pay my first visit to a battleship, the Swift
Sure she is easily distinguishable from other ships by two
large cranes in position amidships on either side. I had
previously signaled to fleet surgeon Jeans on board, sending an

(32:44):
introduction to him given me by General Cayley. Our brigadier
A Pennas arrives for me. We skim over the calm
water of the bay, smartly pulling up alongside the great ship.
My quest was a case of whiskey for Brigade headcos
stuck up in dugouts and lone tree gully with no
chance of getting any This is the first time that

(33:06):
I have been on a battleship, and as I climb
up the rope ladder, I remember that I had read
somewhere that in the days of Nelson, one saluted the
quarter deck when one steps thereon. As I was first up,
I did not know whether it was correct, but I
did so, and noticing some naval officers following me behind
also saluting, saw that I was correct. They entertained us

(33:30):
royally on board. I nearly had a nervous breakdown when
they offered me a whiskey and soda. Naval officers cannot
be beaten as hosts. A howartzer has been potting at
us to day, a good many of the shells going
right over the cliff into the sea on the other side.
Convoy worked again at night to lone tree gully and

(33:52):
a chat with the General in his dugout. A lovely
moonlight night and calm again after a three days beastly game.
August twenty ninth, go to Division headquarters in the morning,
who have now moved back to a gully alongside Core headquarters,
nicely dug in the side of a hill near us.

(34:13):
Their quarters, as well as those of Kor, are built
amongst the green gorse, which, with paths running in and
out and terraces about, makes a lovely garden, very nice
conditions under which to work. I am writing this on
the heights of the shale cliffs of the northern promontory
of suv La Bay. The sea is calm and a deep,

(34:34):
lovely blue, suddenly changing to green at the foot of
the rocks. Souve La Bay, with Salt Lake and the
wooded and gorsed lowland, and the hills and the mountains
in the background are laid out in beautiful panorama. Achi
Baba can be seen in the distant south, and I
have been so used to seeing it from Cape Hellas

(34:55):
that the view is quite a novelty. Off the bay
are three battles ships, supply ships and trawlers, lighters, et cetera.
An aeroplane is humming overhead, and our guns on shore
are continually barking away, while little puffs of shrapnel from
the Turkish batteries burst over and about the wooded lowlands,

(35:16):
Salt Lake and Chocolate Hill where our front line runs
denoted by the crackle of musketry. The view is most
interesting the brownish green gorges leading to the sea, with
their clouds of dust denoting the industry within. Behind me
purple Turkish hills, every point of which is held by

(35:37):
the enemy. Then in between our line and the hills,
the scrubby low lying country, all buff and green, the
cultivated land and the olive groves. I look at it hopelessly,
for I know now as we all do, that the
conquest of the peninsula is more than we can hope.
For all that is left to us is to hang

(35:59):
on they by day it is anything but a cheery prospect. Death,
in various forms walks with us always, the sad processions
of sick and wounded, chiefly the former, move down to
the hospital ships. Every day we see all our best
friends taken one after the other. And at what end

(36:21):
the golden chances have been allowed to slip by? We
can never win through now, so we have to cling
on to the bitter end. End of Section fifteen.