"28/5/1915

(Special) (Gallipoli)

Although I understand you dont know at present, where we are, no doubt when you get this, you
will know that we are on the Gallipoli Peninsula (what part I am not allowed to say but that is of
no significance). This is a very brief description of the beach covered with dense, prickly scrub. I
will attempt to detail our movements to here.

After four months of very varied experiences in the weird and wonderful country of the pyramids,
we were on the eve of Sunday 4th April, called into the Mess Room at Mena (AIF Camp Egypt),
to get once again, the Dinkum Oil. That is the general term now, right through the force that is
applied to any official information.

During our stay in Mena, we had so many occasions, received false alarms that we were off to
the front. We began to wonder if we would ever get to the war.

At any rate, on this particular evening we were given orders for embarkation.

On Monday 5th, we were awakened at dawn by a terrific dust storm that blocked or view three
yards away. We have had some extremes in weather but the 5th of April was the dead limit. The
storm raged throughout the day, during which we packed kits, wagons etc. By the end of the day,
every mans eyes were blood-shot and sore. Half the Sahara was in our eyes, ears, noses and
mouths and down our backs.

At about 2-00pm, we were in the Mess Room discussing our future experiences, hopes, chances
of being shot or winning a VC and other such like trinkets, when the news came through that we
were to stand fast for twenty-four hours owing to a blockage at Alexandria. There was a fair
amount of disappointment at this news but as it was only for a day, we were resigned to the
circumstances. At three oclock, the gloom was lifted slightly by the arrival of a couple of bags of
mail. No mail for me to my disappointment.

Wednesday 7th at 11-00am the news came through to stand fast for ANOTHER twenty-four
hours.
As a slight consolation, a Brigade Sports Meeting was arranged, bur once again my good fortune
deserted me. I was in charge of the Guard so could not watch the sports. I was relieved at 600pm and went to the pictures.

Thursday 8th, went for a ride out to the old cemetery to exercise the horses. 4-00pm, left Mena
Camp forever I hope. Goodbye to the Pyramids. Entrained horses and vehicles at Cairo and left
at 11-00pm, arriving in Alexandria at 4-30am.

Friday 9th, loaded our Transport A21 (the Armadale). Saturday 10th, woke up at about 5 am to
find that we were out at sea.

At last we had left the glamour of the cities of Egypt. We have got away from that dread word
Baksheesh! What a great feeling there was amongst the men. Now they realised there was
really a possibility of something doing. There was great heart in their work and not a word of
complaint. Sorted ourselves and our harness out and then fixed all our ammunition ready for
business.
Pay night and an occasion for a concert on the troop-deck where there was a piano.

Sunday 11th, passed various very barren islands in the Aegean Sea.
Monday 12th, getting up at 5 am, we saw the Island of Lemnos ahead of us. We anchored in the
splendid harbor of this island at 7 am and so joined a huge fleet of other transports. Also there
was a fleet of warships of all classes and nationalities.

Up till Saturday 17th, nothing very eventful took place. On Saturday, a part of us went ashore. I
enjoyed the trip very much. It was an ideal day, with hardly a ripple on the water.

The island is just an undulation tract of grass wherever you look, except for the areas under
cultivation. Some miles away, possibly on another island, a snow-capped mountain made a
splendid background to the scene. Dotted all over the island are quaint old houses and windmills,
grazing sheep, cattle and ponies with luxuriant crops suggesting a scene that might be in France
or Holland. Many varied and pretty windflowers cover this wonderful little island.

The dress of the inhabitants is very picturesque. The men are dressed just as old time brigands
might have been: little black cap, short coat, wide sash around the waist, very roomy bloomers,
gaiters and home-made canvas boots. All the inhabitants are Greek.

From an elevated point, we could get a splendid view of the wonderful little natural harbour,
backed with scores of transports and battleships. In my opinion, this harbour is better than
Sydney Harbour, though our NSW comrades would not agree with me.

It was great to feel the springy grass under our feet, after four months of the heartbreaking heavy
sand of Egypt. We found a splendid level stretch of natural lawn a little way from the beach. Here

we picked up sides and had a football match. It was very exciting and keen and some good
football was played. The inhabitants lined up and watched the proceedings in blank amazement.

After the match, we had lunch and then had a stroll around until evening, when we rowed back to
the ship, much benefitted by out picnic.

We remained at anchor here until Saturday24th, during which time, a certain interest was caused
by submarines and hydroplanes manoeuvering about and more troop ships arriving.

On most of these days, I was one of a boat crew rowing the Captain of the ship or our OC about
to other boats for orders. I was therefore able to go aboard the Minnawaska, which carries Sir Ian
Hamilton (the C in C) and the Arcadia, which carried the Headquarters Staff.

Saturday 24th, at 2 pm, we weighed anchor and passed out of the harbour, passing close to the
grand old Queen Elizabeth, Triumph, Queen, Majestic, Prince of Wales, Lord Nelson, Swiftsure,
Doris, Agamemnon, Buchantem and Jeanne DArc, all cleared for action.

At 4 pm, we passed Mount Athos, where the world renowned Grecian Monastery looked down
over the ocean from a snow-capped mountain.

Sunday 25th.
The day of my baptism of fire.
We were awakened at daybreak by the guns of the Prince of Wales, London and triumph
booming away at the Gallipoli Peninsula, a few hundred yards in front of us. Nothing could be
seen of the Peninsula, about two miles ahead, but rocks and sparse, stunted timber.

A line of about twenty battleships spread right along the coastline, about a mile and a half from
land. Further out again was the grand old Lizzie, streaming up and down the long line, probably
directing operations.

From the troopship next to us, a captive balloon was sent up to observe the fire. In and out of the
lines darted the keen boats.

From another transport, four hydroplanes were put over the side and these flew off to affect
reconnaissance and to also observe fire.

As all the ships were at anchor before daybreak, everything looked peaceful and still, except for
the torpedo boats gliding about. A puff of smoke and a boom, every now and again, were the
only indication that things were not peaceful.

Then there broke out a terrible fusillade of rifle fire. This was just at daybreak and signified that
our fellows had come into contact with the enemy and were affecting a landing.

Next we began to get shells from the Turks all around the transports, some coming unpleasantly
close to the Armadale.

At about 8 oclock, barges of wounded told us of the price that had to be paid for the landing.

An aeroplane had apparently found that the shells were coming from a fort, since turned out to be
Gaba Tepe, for immediately the Prince of Wales and the Triumph steamed right in and enfiladed
it from the opposite side, for about half an hour, succeeding in silencing it.

The Queen Elizabeth, seeing that her big guns were not wanted here, steamed down to Cape
Helles, to lend a hand to the British and French, who were affecting a landing there.

All morning, the battleships were playing on the strongly entrenched howitzer batteries in the
steep hills, which ran up, almost from the waters edge. All this time too, our people were landing,
though with what success they were meeting with, we could not see, owing to our distance out.

At midday, we were ordered to get in as close as possible to the shore and so drop the timber we
had aboard over, for the purpose of making a jetty.

When we got in, we could plainly see our 1st, 2nd and 3rd Infantry Brigades storming these
terrible rough hills. My powerful field glasses made it easy for me to see the brave chaps,
climbing through six foot high prickly scrub, under heavy gun and rifle fire, driving the Turks out of
trench after trench. The long stream of stretcher bearers could be seen, coming down again, with
some of these brave chaps out of action. It was a constant stream.

On the beach, the occupants of some of the stretchers were put on a spot aside and covered with
overcoats and we knew that those chaps had finished their job. These were Australias first quota
to the long list of heroes of the Empire.

At about 6 oclock, an aeroplane returned, apparently carrying information on the enemys guns,
for immediately, every battleship trained its guns to a particular part of the ridge and pounded
away as hard as they could, shaking our ship and I believe, the very ocean. It almost deafened
us and gave us all splitting headaches. We had to yell at each other to make ourselves heard.

I went to bed at 10 pm but awoke at 11 to find that a party of forty-eight was wanted at once to
row ashore and help land the field guns. I was not long in getting dressed but even I was just in
time to be in the last couple wanted, so eager were the lads to get ashore.

It was a miserable night: cold and raining. The orders were vague but we all snatched at least our
rifle and ammunition. I also took my iron rations for one day and my greatcoat and was thankful
later that I did so. Few had time to even grab their greatcoats.

At about 2 am, we reached to shore under continual fire and snipers. We found that the guns had
been towed in but as we found out later, we had nearly lost the ground that we had gained in the
day and on that account, the guns were sent back and all ships boats were sent to the beach in
the event of our people being beaten back.

We waited in the boats through the miserablest of nights, bullets whizzing all around us.

At daybreak, we found that the handful of Australians had held their ground but more by good
luck than anything else. Had the Turks really known our strength on that memorable night, we
would have undoubtedly been driven into the sea. In the morning we were well entrenched and
so fairly safe until reinforcements arrived.

Monday 26th.
We were ordered to take cover from sniper bullets in the hill, until the guns came in again. As we
went along the shore, we had to pass the dead bodies of some of our brave infantry comrades,
lying on the beach and the sight made us feel upset though we dont notice such sights. Even the
second day after the landing, we had already become so callous that we could pass such sights
without the slightest feeling.

At about 10 am, the guns came in and when about twenty yards from the shore, we had to wade
into the water under fire from snipers and pull the pontoons with ropes. Then, still under fire from
these blighters, using explosive bullets, we had to unload the guns and haul them by hand up the
steep hill, which id nine-hundred feet at the summit.

Around 11 am, we had the first gun in position. When the first shell was fired, a great cheer came
up from the infantry. They look on our field guns as their saviour from the terrible effect of the
opposing shrapnel and as a punishment for cutting up our boys.

I was in charge of a party of six men, supplying ammunition to the four guns. We had dragged
the guns up to this position on the right flank of our line.

Our officer, Mr Siddall had been killed. When we got a good supply of ammunition up, I took over
Mr Siddals gun and stayed there for the afternoon, acting as observer (watching and correcting
the fall of shot) and occasionally taking a turn on the gun.

During the afternoon, 450 rounds were fired from this gun alone and the range varied from 200
yards to 1700 yards, so the enemy was at no time very far from us.

At one time, we covered an attack of our infantry and what a great view we had of our brave
chaps charging with fixed bayonets. Unfortunately, the attack was not successful and our chaps
were beaten back, with heavy casualties, by a much greater force.

At 5 pm, two more batteries were brought ashore and these were dragged up into position. As a
big night attack was expected from the enemy, our position was not yet secure, so at 7 pm, we
were ordered to take the guns back to the beach.

All night we had to keep up the supply of ammunition to the original four guns, which at times
were threatened with being over-run.

Tuesday 27th.
Today at intervals between supplying ammunition, I slipped into the infantry trench and had a few
shots with a rifle.

At about 4 pm, my six men were quite done, through the strenuous work and could hardly stand
up, much less juggle two rounds of 18 pounder shells about the scrubby, steep cliffs, so we were
relieved by a party from the shore.

Just as we reached the shore, I was sent back because I knew the position of the guns, with a
dispatch to Colonel Rosenthal (CO 3rd Army Field Artillery Brigade). To do this, it was necessary
for me to crawl across an open space of about twenty yards, on hands and knees, under a hail of
rifle fire during which, I was grazed on my hand and over my left eye.

When I got back we all had to go into the water up to our necks to bring in ammunition from a
barge. After tea, we were taken back along the beach to the Headquarters of our other guns.
Here, we had to shift to a new position. We turned into bunk at 3 am and I had my first sleep for
four nights.

Things being a little quieter on Wednesday, Sergeant Keith George, Sgt. Wheeler, Sgt. Bill
Jackson and 1 improved our temporary dugout and so made ourselves as secure as possible.

From Thursday 29th to Tuesday 4th of May, things happened very much the same. Heavy
artillery duels during the daytime and fierce attacks by the Turks at night. Every morning a long
stretch of wounded and some dead would be brought down to the dressing station showing the
result of the previous nights rifle fire.

The Turk had various methods to get our men to attack and one worth mentioning is to blow our
charge on their bugles though I didnt hear whether the ruse was ever successful.

Two of our deadliest enemies were spies and snipers. It is amazing what a number of spies were
in our lines- mostly interpreters we had brought with us, but some were Germans under assumed
names on our strength. They are I think, all caught now and have paid the penalty of the spy.

The snipers have also been pretty well cleared up, though there were a great number behind our
trenches and naturally they did an immense amount of damage.

One often stopped to wonder after these events if we really deserved the titles Kitcheners RagTime Army and Six bob a day tourists, conferred upon us by some of our people in Melbourne.

Many prisoners have been taken by us up to this date and we have learnt much valuable
information from them. We learnt that they are told that we shoot all prisoners we take, otherwise
many would have given themselves up.

Occasionally the peace of the troopships lying a couple of miles out is broken by shells coming
over from the forts. One hit a collier causing it to burn, otherwise, no serious damage was done
by them.

On Tuesday 4th, we had additions to our home in the earth, in Sergeant Holgate and
Bombardier Bill Evans.

This night, I was sent up to take charge of a train of mules laden with ammunition. I had gone in
ahead, and as I was on my own, Mister Coe lent me his revolver, lest I should fall over a sniper.
The thing was more dangerous than otherwise, as I dont know that I am very handy with such a
weapon.

Even if I had occasion to use it, I would only give away my whereabouts to the sniper by the
flash. Luckily, on my way up, I met Billie Evans, who came along with me for company and
curiously, a sniper did find us out.

We didnt take much notice when a bullet whizzed near us. We put it down to a stray bullet, but
when we heard one uncomfortably close to us every couple of yards right across the valley, we
concluded that they werent strays but were intended. Naturally we were relieved when we got to
our destination.

On Thursday 6th, Bill Evans had the bad luck to stop a shrapnel bullet in the leg. He was taken
onto the hospital ship and we havent heard of him since.

Friday 7th.
Learnt with sorrow that Mister Wolfended, who we had left an hour previously, had been killed.
Arthur Mann was wounded the same day with a bullet in the cheek.

We have now been fighting for a fortnight and our boys have done great work, although the
casualties have been very heavy. The past fortnight will immortalise the Australians as soldiers,
for all time.

Up to date, I am intact, although have had a few grazes which has caused a couple of bruises.

Little Bill Evans got a shrapnel bullet in his leg five minutes ago and the doctor hasnt found it yet.

Sunday 9th.
Owing to the deadly shrapnel, orders were give that no ammunition was to be supplied by day.
Consequently, we rest in the daytime and at night, supply ammunition, dig gun pits and shift the
guns to new locations as required.

Owing to our guns not being able to ascertain the address of a couple of Turkish guns
somewhere near Gaba Tepe, we continue to receive a goodly amount of attention each day, with

a consequent heavy casualty list in our little band of the column. Casualties in my party of
originally ten: 2 killed, 3 wounded, 5 still going strong.

Thursday 11th.
Whilst digging a gun-pit on the skyline, we unearthed the bodies of six Turks. This sort of thing
doesnt add enjoyment to the job. In fact, its hard now to dig anywhere, without digging up a
victim of the great rush of the first day of the landing. At that time, they were buried everywhere.

Outside our trenches are bodies of Australians, Germans and Turks which we cannot get out to
bury. Consequently, the stench is by now, awful.

We are now coming into the line with methods of warfare employed on the Western Front: Bomb
throwing from the trenches and night attacks.

Wednesday 12th.
The warships renewed their attacks on the Narrows Forts in earnest. There was an incessant
pounding away for seventy-two hours without a stop. From here we could plainly see the shells
bursting about twenty miles away, especially at night when there was a continuous line of flame
indicating the hot time that our unlucky foe must have been getting. Rumoured that HMS Goliath
was sunk in this engagement.

Tuesday 18th.
At about 2 pm this day, the enemy started bombarding our trenches on a wholesale scale and in
places, succeeded in making a mess of things. Hostile aeroplanes hovered above us. From this,
we gathered that we were to expect an attack. Sure enough, as soon as it became dark, the
Turks came at it.

All through the night, they made one continuous attack and would only desist when daylight
came. The morning showed in front of our trenches, a field literally covered with corpses.

Our casualties were heavy, but not worse than would be expected from the fierceness of the
fight/ The Turks losses were enormous and we took many prisoners.

Our 2nd Infantry Brigade returned today from Cape Helles, where they had been taken a week
previously to make a landing. This Brigade landed on the first day with 4,600 men, including
reinforcements. They are now reduced to barely over a thousand.

Wednesday 19th.

Coming back to my dugout after a job, I found a visitor had called in the shape of a 4.5 shell
which riddled all our tins, boxes, clothing etc. and leaving Sgt. Bill Jackson out of action, with a
nasty wound to his back. He had already been taken to the hospital ship, so I dont know how
serious it is. Judging by the hole in his singlet left behind, it is apparently not a very pleasant
wound.

General Bridges was wounded today and Major Villiers Stewart, of the general Staff, killed.

Later, we learnt that General Bridges died the following day, on the hospital ship en-route to
Alexandria.

Thursday 20th.
At about 4 pm, a German Staff Officer and two Medical Officers came out of the trenches, under
the Red Crescent. An officer of ours went out to meet them half was. It transpired that the enemy
wanted an armistice to bury their dead and to take their wounded in.

This was allowed, until it was seen that the blighters were carrying in a few wounded on
stretchers but they were also filling stretchers with arms and ammunition from the battle ground.

It was then that from our trenches could be seen, two lines of reinforcements, bristling with
bayonets, apparently preparing for an attack under the temporary armistice.

This, and the fact that darkness was coming on, caused our officer to acquaint the Turks that we
have stood the caper long enough and that hostilities would resume in ten minutes time.

Some of the Turks had already come out of their trenches behind the cover of unarmed men but
as todays orders rut it, the device was too thin to deceive a child.

Our machine guns, field guns and rifles were immediately turned on them. That was the
beginning of a vigorous attack that lasted all night. Some of the Turks made it as far as our
trenches before they were either killed or captured. Not for five minutes during the night, did the
battle wane.

By daybreak, the Turks drew off and when I had a look over the trenches with a periscope, it was
horrible to see the awful carnage. Hundreds and hundreds of dead and wounded Turks covered
the ground.

Through information received since, it is estimated that Turkish casualties that night reached
eight thousand. Later we found out that thirty thousand Turks took part in this particular
engagement and nine thousand belonged to the 11th Division, the Flower of the Turkish Army. It
would seem that the flower must have faded somewhat.

On Friday 21st, a white flag was hoisted from Gaba Tepe and when we answered with a white
flag, a horseman appeared above the hill.

Three of our Staff Officers then went along the beach halfway to Gaba Tepe and planted the flag,
whereupon the horseman was joined by two more. All three cantered along the beach to our
officers, where they parleyed for half an hour.

One of their number was then blindfolded and brought along to our headquarters by two of our
officers. Our third officer remained behind with the other two Turkish officers.

The Turk who came in was a splendidly dressed, well fed chap and he created a good deal of
interest for our boys. He was taken back at night.

During this night, another short but brisk attack was made on our trenches but it was easily
repulsed. It was during this attack that I saw one of our chaps fire one of the Japanese bomb
throwers for the first time. These are our latest acquisitions and can throw a thirty pound bomb,
which must prove very fearsome to the Turks.

Saturday 22nd.
Our Turkish officer again visited us under the white flag.

Today all transports cleared out and the battleships and torpedo boats kept darting about all day
so as to avoid a possible torpedo from a submarine sighted about nine miles out.

A hostile aeroplane appeared above us and dropped bombs without doing much damage. It was
subjected to a fusillade of shrapnel from the Navy but on account of its height, it went unharmed.
Directly after, one of our planes went up, probably to chase the hostile, which however proved to
be too speedy. Our plane, in turn, was subject to a hail of shrapnel from Gaba Tepe but survived.

It apparently brought back valuable information, for immediately two battleships and two torpedo
boat destroyers went close in to Gaba Tepe and bombarded it like blazes. It is rumoured that
their objective was a large body of cavalry coming up, who were blown about severely.

On Monday 24th. we awoke to find things singularly quiet and found that an armistice until 4 pm
had been declared. This explained the Turks visit to us. The reason the Turks wanted the
armistice was to bury their many dead. As some of these had been dead for a month, the object
was very laudable.

Keith George and I put on our field glasses and posed as observers for the artillery and so were
allowed outside our trenches.

Here we saw parties of Australians and Turks together, mid-way between the trenches. Then
along would come a band of Officers representing both sides, examining the heaps and
collecting the stuff belonging to their respective sides.

Before taking rifles away, the bolts were removed and given to the people opposing. We took all
bolts off the Turkish rifles and they took all bolts from ours.

It was indeed strange to see the Officers from opposing armies laughing and talking with each
other all day, with apparently no malice or ill-feeling. I felt curious to know what subjects they
could find to talk about.

Whilst and English Colonel and a German Colonel were talking together, a Turkish Officer came
along. The latter was probably a General, for the German sprang to attention and they both
saluted. He introduced him to our Officer and they again saluted, shook hands and saluted again.
Then they laughed and talked together as if renewing old acquaintances. In a couple of hours,
each would put the other out of action if opportunity happened. It certainly seemed incongruous.

The Turkish General impressed me as being a fine stamp of a man. He was about six feet six
inches in height and looked a typical soldier one felt one could admire. The sight of him did much
to temper my dislike of the Turks.

We went right along between the trenches for about three miles, seeing various interesting
sights.

We saw the Turks dragging their dead down into the valley where they were burying them all, in
one huge trench. Some of the dead were so decomposed that they had to be towed by a rope
from ten yards away. The bodies were three times their normal size with faces and hands all blue.
Some were mouldy and in a frightful state. I was pleased to note that the proportion of our chaps
was slight compared with the Turkish dead.

We found some Turkish bombs and hand grenades, some exploded and some not. We saw huge
splinters and the horrible effects of the Jack Johnstons. The hole made by one of these could
accommodate a small cottage.

An incident worthy of note, was a Turk running the rule over a dead comrade. A German Officer
saw him and just beckoned to him. The Turk approached and saluted. The Officer, without a
word, just hauled off and banged the looter under the jaw, knocking off his feet,

I was surprised to see how near in places, the trenches were placed. One in particular, was no
more than fifteen yards from our firing line and the Turks had sapped to within a couple of yards
of our trench, probably with the intention of blowing it up.

We saw a good many of the enemys brilliant 11th Division: The Pick of the Turkish Army. They
are certainly resplendent as regards their uniform, which is a gaudy blue rigout, very much in
contrast to that of the remained of the Turks.

The armistice ended at 4 pm and off we went, starting at each other again. It seemed that the
night firing was even more willing than usual, perhaps making up for all the time wasted during
the day.

My party happened to be digging a gun-pit for the 8th Battery, ten yards behind the infantry
trench and we were greatly entertained by our chaps firing Japanese bomb-throwers. A bomb
would be lobbed into the Turks trench and there would follow a terrible rifle fusillade. As the
Turks jumped out of the trenches to avoid the effect of our bomb, our rifles and machine guns
completed the mix up.

Tuesday 25th.
Today, we witnessed what to me was one of the most impressive and sad sights imaginable.
Early in the morning, it was evident by all the transport, hospital ships and vessels of all
descriptions, clearing out of the bay, that a submarine had been sighted in the vicinity. The
Triumph, a few torpedo boats and pinnaces were the only vessels left in the bay. These ships
kept on the move, with the exception of the Triumph, which was watching Gaba Tepe from about
half a mile away.

Just at midday, I happened to look right at her, when I noticed a huge cloud of dense smoke rise
from her. When it cleared, I noticed that she had a pronounced list to the starboard and we all
naturally came to the conclusion that she had stopped a torpedo.

Watching her with field-glasses, we saw her gradually lean over until her starboard deck was in
line with the water. All pinnaces and torpedo boats were immediately signaled to her aid: the
torpedo boats to go alongside and the pinnaces to stand by and pick up the men from the water.

Unfortunately, all but one torpedo boat were good distance away but this one ran alongside the
doomed warrior. Through the glasses, the men could be seen lining up on the port side and filing
onto the destroyer as quietly and in good order as if they were lining up for rations.

Before the long line of sailors had filed off, it became evident that the other destroyers would
probably not arrive in time, as she was gradually keeling over. The one destroyer could not take
the men off quickly enough as only her bow was near enough for them to jump off the Triumphs
stern.

Apparently an order was given for the remainder to jump into the water and take their chances on
being picked up, for a number of them detached themselves from the line, walked to the bow and
dived in.

Almost immediately after, without further warning, she keeled over. She steadied herself for a
moment on her side, with her torpedo net up in the air and then turned right over, with her keel
out of the water.

We noticed that her propeller was still revolving, so she must have tried to move, perhaps to
dodge the submarine or perhaps to beach herself.

The Triumph remained thus, with her bottom out of the water, for about ten minutes, then,
suddenly, disappearing altogether. There was no explosion. Everything seemed to happen so
calmly and in an almost dignified way.

It was exactly twelve minutes from when I noticed the cloud of smoke until she keeled over, not
giving her crew much time to look to their safety.

To beach her would have meant she would have had to run right under the Gaba Tepe fort. Of
course I do not know whether this was attempted.

We have not heard officially how many brave chaps went down with her but the general rumour is
that they numbered about fifty.

The pinnaces stood by for a long time picking up many survivors.

It is of some significance that the Triumph had only just returned from Lemnos with fresh supplies
of ammunition and coal.

The strange part of the disaster was the peaceful conditions under which it happened, hardly a
ripple on the water and in so close to shore. The suddenness of it all made it hard for us to
realise what had really happened.

It was typical of the enemy, that the guns from Gaba Tepe fired on the pinnaces whilst they were
engaged in rescuing the drowning.

This disaster was intensified by the Majestic receiving the same fate two days later: Thursday
29th.
In this case, I believe the crew were all saved as the doomed vessel took an hour to sink.

Curiously enough, these two vessels are the most easily spared, the Triumph especially being
practically out of commission and yet she has been in most bombardments here and has done
some really valuable work. The huge stock of fresh ammunition is, no doubt, a severe loss.

For us, both of these ships were the most popular as they have been attached to us and assisted
in our particular operations from the first. Many of us have made friends of the crew and
Midshipmen from the ships were ashore a good bit, assisting beach parties and taking the
wounded to the hospital ships.

Friday 28th.
Witnessed a wonderful operation by the Field Ambulance people, who amputated a mans leg
above the knee, which had been terrible shattered by a bomb. Though not a pleasant sight, I was
fascinated at what these fine doctors are doing to endeavour to save a life on the very verge of
finishing.

Saturday 29th.
Our boys captured a trench on a very valuable position.

Please let me know if you get this letter. If you dont get it, also let me know.

2nd. June 1915

Still whole and happy

Tons and tons of love.

From Art.

22/6/15

My dear Mater and Pater,

Today is a red letter day.

We have just received an Australian mail telling us how proud our people are of our efforts on
April 25th against the Turks. The whole force is anxiously reading its mail, to learn what has been
said in the newspapers of the Forces first attempt at warfare.

My mail consists of a dozen glorious letters, dated up to the 11th of May but as the Paters letter
is dated 4th May and the Maters, 3rd May, you dont mention much about the subject.

Before going further, I shall answer them.

Once again, you have been kind enough to take Ida out, this time to see the Seven keys. Its
jolly decent of you to do this and I take it as just as much a kindness to me, as Im sure she does.

Youre right Pater, I am now on the more serious and business side of my travels and it has
indeed changed me in a great way, from being too frivolous.

The bewitching or pretty ladies that you advise me to beware of, are in the past tense. It seems
that every mans ideas have changed a good deal in the last two months.

Yes, I am well aware that I have your good wishes and I think that I am proving worthy of all that I
know you expect of me, notwithstanding the fact that I am not yet mentioned in dispatches.

While on a serious line, I might mention just to show how things are, that as I sit here at the
mouth of my dugout, just this minute, shrapnel has reduced our band by one, just in front of me.
This shows you just how easily things might happen. Its got that way with us now that we just go
our way and chance our luck, knowing full-well that no particular spot is properly safe. Only that
some spots are safer than others.

My knee is alright, Thanks. You mean, I suppose, after being kicked by the horse at Mena. Since
then, it was bruised by a shrapnel bullet.

You say that several of my friends have been killed or wounded. I would correct that and say
hundreds.

Although the Australian people are upset by the casualty lists up to the date that you write, those
lists, if they were proper lists, would be three times the length.

I have an Australian newspaper that says, that up to May 8th, the number of killed and wounded
was about four hundred, whereas at that date, it was three times as many.

Sorry to say that I have been parted from Jack Cornish. He was not allowed to come ashore with
us. Only half of the column are ashore, the others have been sent back with the horses to
Alexandria, as they are of no use in this part of the war.

Gordon Hope is attached to headquarters in Egypt and I believe that he and Fred have come into
contact there.

Poor old Bill Evans is back there, with a bullet in his leg. He went away six weeks ago and I had a
letter today from one of the boys saying that the bullet had not been removed, the day he wrote.
Poor little Bill. Im terribly sorry for him, as I took a great liking to him. He was one of the most
popular chaps in the column.

The soldier who told Ida that the artillery were being kept at Cairo for garrison purposes is
misinformed. As you see, we are all well in the hunt.

Cairo wouldnt do me at present, when there is something doing. Dinners, visits, dancing, motor
drives are all forgotten, in the excitement and grimness of what we are having now.

You say that you dont blame us for the fun and dinners while we had the chance, for we shall be
without either for a long time when we get going in the fray.

Quite right. Bully beef and biscuits, hard work and shrapnel are the only things that we get now.

I am proud to belong to the glorious crowd of dare-devil Australians, of whom it has truly been
said, They show no fear.

The letters and newspapers just to hand, are full of just how proud our people are of us. They
must be because we are proud of ourselves.

I know one of the failings of an Australian is to skite but I feel that a little of it may be forgiven in
us now.

We are proud that we have been entrusted with so important a task and we are proud to feel that
we are accomplishing what was asked of us.

Its gear to have a part of the war allotted to us as a self-contained unit. Had we been sent to
France, probably our identity would have been lost to some extent amidst the large numbers of
troops already there.

The great number of graves and little wooden crosses, all over the place and steadily increasing,
testifies that the cost isnt counted in attaining the object.

No doubt, Ashmead Bartletts report of the first few days fighting, has appeared in one of the
Melbourne newspapers, as it appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald, dated May 8th.

This will give you a good and truthful account of the Australians. Truthful, because he wrote it for
the London press and not just to praise the Australians, in the Australian papers. I would like to
get a copy and keep it, if you havent already done so.

You must excuse this writing, as I am not writing on a Cutler Roll-top Desk.

Now, I sincerely hope to return to you shortly, well and whole though, should it be my fortune.

Im sure, Mater and Pater, that you will be proud of me. You will have the fine satisfaction of
having contributed one to the Empires struggle for the sake of Humanity, knowing he faced the
music like an Australian and the son of an Englishman.

Meanwhile, you share my hope that we shall be together again very soon.

Tons and tons of love and thoughts from

Your loving son

Art.

27th June 1915.

It is one of the large grievances of our boys with the horses, who are back in Egypt, that they are
out of it.

I know. I was forced to go to hospital on the island of Lemnos, forty miles away, for a week and it
was most intolerable. So much so, that I wasnt properly discharged.

I jumped on a trawler and nicked back to the firing line. When I got there, I could not produce my
discharge from the hospital. Our Sergeant-Major administered to me a stern reprimand and extra
fatigue duty.

This job of forcing the Dardanelles is an ugly one and may yet take a little time. Were here now
and there isnt any retreat recognised in the AIEF.

Learning to be a soldier. Ive learnt now, as the sinking of the Lusitania is now ancient history in
the succession of atrocities committed by these exponents of Kultur.

Never do I receive a letter that doesnt contains some very flattering remarks regarding my
capabilities as a correspondent. By the way, the space would be better filled with news. Such

terms as most interesting and descriptive; full, rich and racy style, distinctly my own (this one is
the winner).

The next thing that I shall do, will be to take your letter to Sir Ian (Hamilton) and ask him, may I
understudy the Broad Bean (Capt. CEW Bean)

Australians are noted for their originality but not for their truthfulness, so I cant guarantee this.

Nevertheless, I overheard a Colonel tell it to a Major and these people are surely above reproach.

Of course, you know that a Chaplain or a Red Cross man commits a crime, if the handle a rifle
with intent.

On May 18th, we had a big attack, of which I have already written. The Turks were coming on in
droves.

A genial old RC Chaplain was in our trenches, cheering up the boys who had been wounded.
The fierceness of the battle and the terrible wounds of a couple of the lads, at last got the old
chaps Royal Irish up.

He seized a discarded rifle, shoved it through a loop-hole and blazed away.

After his third shot, he was heard to remark through his teeth, God bless me! Ive missed the --again.

It was an infantry man of the same nationality, on the same night, who was engaged in throwing
hand grenades into the enemys trenches, a few yards distant.

He had thrown scores and was down to his last bomb, when he yelled out to the unseen foe,
How many of yez is there left?

A German officer was heard to call back, Hundreds.

Our soldier replied, Well, share thisun between yez, blast yez!

Near our firing line but away to the flank, is, or was, a small farm.

Goats had been noticed, roaming around nearby and at dusk, one evening, an enterprising
Australian is said to have set out for a goat, as a change from bully beef.

Having stalked it, he was in the act of finishing the goats career with his bayonet, when he
noticed his Colonel appear.

Afraid that he would incur his Commanding Officers wrath. He addressed the following to his
victim, Ill teach yer not to bite an Australian, yer Turkish etcetera.

A body of Scots from Glasgow landed a few days ago. This is true. In talking to me yesterday,
one of their number said, According to reports of your doings here and the talk about the
Australians at home, we had the idea that you chaps were wild, almost savage people and we
were surprised to find that you are just as quiet and quite like our boys.

Theres a scheme here to cope with the flies, the next evil of importance after the enemys shells.

You get your mosquito netting and spread it out, in front of your dugout. You then tear a small
hole, just about where you head would be. The flies then make a dive for this hole and get
through. You then close up the hole and sleep outside your dugout!

I thought the scheme good, until I remembered that it isnt too easy to buy mosquito netting on
this barren peninsula.

I could recount many more little yarns but Im afraid that I would lose my reputation with you, as a
good letter writer. Some are best left, untold.

I handed six new letters to the Officer who censors the letters. Half an hour later, a shell landed in
his dugout and damaged or destroyed most of the latters handed in by the Column. I live in hope
that mine escaped.

Glad to hear of the breaking of the drought. Sincerely hope that things are looking brighter in
Australia now.

You told me to mention if I would like any newspapers. Yes, the Bulletin, Punch and Argus would
be appreciated, especially at present. Papers are always eagerly looked for.

On the ship that I came by were a body of Maoris. These chaps are all fine built, intelligent and
keen. They always seem bright and happy and always seem to take delight in scuffling and
pulling one-another about, in which feature, they resemble the Ghurkhas.

Things are going on here much about the same.

Continuous attacks and counter-attacks, resulting invariable in some slight advantage to us.

It is apparently going to take some time and yet the Turks may crumple up, all of a sudden. We
have it officially, that the Turks are becoming demoralised, which points to the fact that we may
soon have things our own way.

At present, we are told just to hold on apparently awaiting a big move soon.

The Turk is a good fighter and is as game as a meat-axe. It is wrong to believe that he is an
under-fed, unintelligent, cowardly heathen. Certainly our boys have got him bluffed with the
bayonet but I dont blame the Turk on that account. I cannot say that I would be comfortable, had
I to face a score of bayonets.

Besides, that first day must have created a lasting impression on him as far as the bayonet is
concerned. The British Tars refer to our Infantry as white Ghurkhas, after that great charge.

As far as the Turk being under-fed goes, I can honestly say, that in all the large number of Turkish
prisoners that Ive seen, Ive not seen one that wasnt fat.

Ive developed a kink in my neck, watching for hostile aeroplanes likely to drop a bomb on my
dugout.

I suffer from permanent tiredness in the legs, running away from shells and am generally tired all
over from dodging bullets and the Sergeant-Major.

I am always bad-tempered, owing to the tenacity of the flies but I wear a smile when other chaps
are cursing the heat.

Ive become used to bully beef and biscuits, sometimes nearly persuading myself that I actually
like them.

I can honestly say that I am enjoying myself, although the awful carnage, at times, is inclined to
dampen ones spirits.

One thing that I must admit is that I am dreadfully homesick. I look forward to the day, which I
sincerely hope that I shall be spared to see, when I shall once again put my foot in dear old
Melbourne. It will take a terrible lot to shift me out of Melbourne, if I have the luck to get back
there again. Melbourne will always do for me.

Tons of love from your happy but homesick son

Art.

18th July 1915

ANZAC

I was astounded, when I read, first of all in Idas letter, that she had seen the baby and that Berts
little daughter is a really lovely little thing. Pater then wrote, Expect that I have word of my new
title, that of uncle.

These remarks we my first intimation of the advent of a new generation in the Smith Clan and it
took my breath away for a minute.

Well, congratulations to you both, on becoming grandparents.

Ill bet the Mater is as pleased and excited as Bert. I can see her wanting to monopolise the baby.
It was always a hoppy of hers, to borrow peoples babies, in a train or a bus and nurse them. Ill
bet Bert is proud.

Three or four pals of mine helped me drink to the kids health, with our issue of rum, last night.

Im glad to read that it is such a splendid and pretty baby and also that it and its mother are so
well.

I share with all my heart, you wish that all this tumult was over and that I was back again, with
you all.

I am heartily sick of the whole affair but where I given a chance to go home tomorrow, I should
not take it. Now Im here, I want to see the affair right through, dreadfully homesick though I am.

On reading this over again, Im afraid that it will create a wrong impression. I dont want it to be
thought, that I am down-hearted. Far from it. In most ways, I am happy enough, although he
would be a cold-blooded mortal who could say that he was enjoying himself.

In quieter moments at night, I occasionally let myself think about the unnecessary and cruel side.

Here are the pick of manhood of a wonderful little continent, occupying a tract of land which
perhaps, is no more than five or six miles in area. We are only about a mile and a half inland and
our firing line is about three miles long.

I am of the opinion that we are to wait until the troops in the south, the British and the French, are
more firmly established, there will be a forward movement made. Although we only hold a small
amount of territory, in which, by the way, we are very firmly established, you can imagine that
where ever the Turks drop a shell, they must necessarily account for a few of our chaps, as
almost every yard of our strip is occupied.

When you notice that the Turks can fire on us from each flank, as well as from the front, you can
understand that our awful casualty list is slowly but surely, growing longer. Every day, one
witnesses chaps all around you, being killed or maimed for life. Taubs and Avitaks occasionally
fly over us and drop bombs.

Can you wonder that a chap gets a wee bit morose at times? The only thing that saves a chap
from getting too maudlin, is the very hard work that we have to very frequently, do. Perhaps this
hard work is the best salve for a dropping spirit one that could have, although there is always
plenty of grousing about the severity of the work.

I am keeping fit and health and striving to do my little bit, ungrudgingly. This will be an education
to me that otherwise, I would have never obtained.

Though the awful side of war is always before us, we can manage to get a bit of fun at times. Any
one of us can get a bit of time during the day to have a swim in the sea, despite the fact that
shells continually drop around us, even there.

Some of the lads in the column, occupy their spare time by writing a newspaper, which is, at
times, highly amusing. I have copied a few extracts from last weeks issue which may appear a
bit silly. Still, it shows that the fellows can look on the bright side, even when the shells are
dropping around.

I would love you to see my dugout. Lately, Ive been able to pinch some timber and some sandbags and Ive made quite a comfortable home in the side of the hill. I can stand up in it and it is
not only timbered inside but it has wall paper taken from the illustrated London papers,
cupboards let into the walls and a stretcher made of a waterproof sheet, stretched across two
poles.

One thing that I do not like is the company that lives with me: little whip snakes, centipedes,
spiders, turtles and flies.

Sergeant Jackson was with Keith George, living here at first and was wounded during the second
week. He has now returned and is living next door to me.

I had a long and interesting letter from Jack Cornish yesterday, in which he says that poor little
Billy Evans is still in hospital in Alexandria.

They have not got the bullet out of his leg yet and he was wounded nearly three months ago.
They find the locality of the bullet by X-Rays but when they operate, they find that the bullet has
moved. He has been under two operations to date and the bullet is still in his leg.

How strange it is, that so few artillery casualties are reported in the Melbourne newspapers. We
have had scores of casualties and Ive only read of about a dozen. Apparently, they have had
their hands full, with the large number of wounded in the hospital ships.

We are still in a tight corner. Im sorry that your hope, that we hold Constantinople, before I
received your letter wasnt realised. Your letter has reached me and we are still a long way from
the Turkish Capital. But my firm belief is. That this part of the war will be finished before you
receive this letter. I sincerely hope so.

Yesterday, we were all inoculated against cholera. We have to be done again in eight days. I will
soon be quite full of germs. Since leaving Melbourne, I have been inoculated twice against
typhoid. I have been vaccinated twice and now two inoculations against cholera, just fill me up
with germs.

THE AUSTRALIAN ARTILLEY ADVISOR

(Incorporated with THE SUN MOON and STAR)

ANZAC Someday 1915 Price: ONE TIN JAM (Marmalade barred)

Every evening on the Hillside

Our boys look real solemn
Waiting for the awful voice
Of the S.M. Fall in Column

Then we fall in, on the roadside

Everyone is strong and hearty
And our bosses check the roll
Of each little party.

Buck up and get those shells up

Bustle were late tonight
Lazy dogs I hear them mutter
As I struggle out of fright.

With a shell on each shoulder

Up to Holgates we go like hell
Then tear back with some empties
Got no time to have a spell.

When we get back to our depot

We see the S.M.s smiling face
As he strives to break it gently
Bring a hundred boxes from the base.

Now then Sergeants stir your men up

Else the lot will go to sleep
Dont you know the Captains dugout

Must be six more feet deep.

MARKET QUOTATIONS

Butter:
Cheese:
Eggs:
Bacon:

Biscuits:
Bully Beef:

Sugar:

Flour:
Onions:
Potatoes:
Tobacco:
Rum:

PERSONAL
We learn upon going to press that Sgt. Holgate of 2nd B.A,C. has left to take command of the 4th
Battery. Considering the amount of confidence this gentleman has in himself he should be an
unqualified success.

SPECIAL NOTICE.
The Turkish Government has taken over the business

The Little Turks Ltd have installed the latest and most up to date 11 inch boring plant with which
they are now prepared to REMODEL, REMOVE or RENEW your Dugout.
Old Dugouts demolished by their speedy process.

LOST and FOUND

Lost:- The sense of security.
Finder please return to W. Cook
Liberal reward.

Found:- Moans of a trip to Alexandria by a few Column boys. For further particulars apply S.M.s
office (Cold Feet Dept.)

TED SLOAN
Hairdresser If satisfaction not given hair returned. (Theres money in hair if it only comes off)

It is suggested that the next issue of eggs be fried on one side only.

COOKERY
Peninsula Pancakes:Take as much flour as you can from the A.S.C. Stores, without the sentry catching you- (selfraising preferred but if it wont raise itself Lift it) Add a pinch of salt- pinched from the same
place- mix with your daily issue of 2 spoonfuls of water- Place in Dixie lid containing bacon fatplace on fire of broken biscuit boxes. Serve with marmalade, though they taste better with honey.
So we delve with pick and shovel
On that hard and stony ground
Till the roadway and the mule teams
Are covered up for miles around.

Half past ten- the Captains coming

(Havent had a Smoke O yet)
Hes looking round our fellows
Got some fault to find Ill bet.

Oh dear me- I call it shocking

How you fellows do behave
And Sherry youre the limit
To come to work without a shave.

Try to be more regimental

Keane, dont throw the dirt so high
Winters, you could dress far neater
If only you like to try.

Merrily we dig that dugout

Finish up- its nearly morn
From behind some empty boxes
Wearily we hear the Captain yawn,

Thanks lads youve dug it nicely

When youre free just to me come
Sorry now Ive nought to give you
The Colonel he has stopped your rum.

Unobtainable
Very strong: High
Off
Very poor stuff offering
Demand consequently not brisk.
Still hardening.
Overdone. No demand.
Very small quantities offered. Little available. Prices greatly in favour of the vendors. (i.e. A.S.C.
chaps)
Rising (self-raising)
Sprung
Off (Gone to Tipperary)
Supply light and poor.
Plenty of enquiries. Supply scarce, Small Lots sighted but nothing doing.

SPECIAL NOTICE
If the person who removed the case of bully beef in mistake for a case of jam from the Q.M.s
store, will return the box, he can keep the Beef.

WORK FOR WORKERS

Why hang around your Dugout?
Why waste your valuable time?
Why not throw in your lot with CORPORAL SMITH
Parties conducted to good jobs at all hours, Work started Day or Night and CONTINUED all day
and all night.
Specialist on Gun pits, Roads, Observation Stations etc.
Come comrades and Consult
Office open day and night.
CORPORAL SMITH
Smithville
Hellspit ANZAC
Telephone 1. Overtime

POSITIONS VACANT
Applications invited for: Quartermaster to Column- must be Handsome, Honest and Healthy, Able
to deal out rations no matter how scanty and make them go around. Must be advanced in our
special small measurements and light weights. Must have a good temper, big feet, a big punch
and above all must be an interesting and cheerful Liar, a strict teetotaller and have no court
favourites. Ne wasters.
Apply H.Q. Column, Someday soon.

ADVERTISEMENTS
Wanted to buy:- Stale beer or Broken down rum in any quantities. Fresh beer not objected to
(I.T.I. Office)

PERSONAL

Corporal Smith and Bomr. Lyne have returned from a weekend at Lemnos. Both look well.

TO LET
To Let:- About 20 well equipped dugouts. Good position. All latest improvements. Beautiful view,
Water frontages, facing beach parade. The owners who came to the Peninsula during the
shooting season are now run down and have returned to warmer climes on account of cold feet.
Apply early as more Australian tourists are expected.

NEWS ITEMS:
During the heavy bombardment yesterday it is stated that over 6000 Turks were killed and 12000
wounded. Seven thousand yards of enemy trenches it is stated, captures by our troops who hope
to capture the remainder and thereby finally and completely defeat the Turks before the end of
1925 (DINKUM)

The charge on the enemy trenches on the Gaba Tepe Frontier yesterday was an unqualified
success. Our losses were several hundred casualties so what the Turks must hace suffered. Only
one greater charge is known in the annals of British history and that was the charge of one
piastre for the rotten beer at MENA. (E. NOES)

We are sorry to say that our Reporter lost count of the prisoners taken yesterday. We understand
reliable information gives the number as three. (GOOD OIL)

An awful Aerial Attack Attempted

Fierce Fighting by Flying felons
Big Battle Begun.

Bombr. Len baker flying correspondent to the Advisor has been mentioned in dispatches for great
daring. In his aeroplane THE WHITE FEATHER he, singlehanded, attacked and brought down
to earth nine Zepplins and 22 enemy aeroplanes. (LYER)

Ive a little wet home in a trench

Which the rainll continually drench
Theres a dead mule close by,
With its hoofs twards the sky,
Which gives off a terrible stench.

Underneath in the place of a floor

Theres some mud but no straw,
And Jack Johnstons tear
Through the putrefied air
As they miss me by an inch, perhaps more.
There are snipers who keep on the go
So I just keep my napper down low,
And the bombs at night,
Are a terrible sight. And often cause language to flow.

Ive bully and biscuits to chew,

Its weeks since we last had a stew,
But with shells bursting here,
Well no place can compare
With my little dirt home- well Damn few.

Oh! There are maggots in the Cheese,

You can see them if you please,
Crawling on their hands and knees
Kitchy- koo! Kitchy- koo!

ANZAC
GALLIPOLI
28th July 1915.

Well Mater and Pater, Im pleased to report that things are still well with me, although, during the
last ten days, we have been subject to an extremely hot time, owing to the Turks having received

a supply of extra high explosive ammunition, besides having brought more heavy guns into
position.

This hasnt disheartened any of us though, as we are now receiving very destructive ammunition
and at the same time, we are continually landing more guns and reinforcements.

We have lately had to prepare for a big attack, which is expected in a day or two.

Official information, apparently obtained by spies in Constantinople, has been published, to the
fact that the Turks are being reinforces by 100,000 men.

That isnt terribly disconcerting but I cant say the same for the news that has been published,
that it is the apparent intention of the enemy to use asphyxiating gas.

To meet this contingency, each one of us has been issued with a respirator and a gas helmet but
I sincerely hope, we shall not have occasion to use them.

They have already started using inflammatory shells, although not to a great extent. Apparently,
they are only used as a test.

The sooner this prospective attack comes off, the better. Our infantry, far from looking on the
attack with dread, are anxiously awaiting it to do something. They cannot understand what our
leaders expect to gain by the present, to them, ineffective, trench operations.

Though all the battalions have, to some extent, been badly cut up, they are not in the least
demoralised. The more damage done to them, the more vengeance they want to wreak.

We were to be relieved a week or two ago, when the British were relieved from Cape Helles.
Our GOC, General Birdwood, asked that we be allowed to continue here as he had the matter
pretty well in hand, he thought. So, our stay here has been extended for another month.

The reason for the relief is that, when the troops come out of the trenches, they cannot get right
away from the firing line, as they can in France.

The farthest one can get back from the firing line is about a mile, so of course, one cannot get
away from the nerve wracking noise of the firing.

Besides that, one is in more danger from the shells behind the line of fire, as one hasnt got the
cover of the comparatively safe trenches.

So really, a soldier landing here, on 25th April, has now been as good as in the firing line for
fourteen weeks, without the slightest spell.

Besides all this, we are really a very small force, holding an expensive area, against a very much
greater force and consequently, we have been called upon to do extremely has and at times,
heartbreaking work.

There hasnt been any serious complaint by the boys as a whole but one can see, if he is at all
observant, that a lot of the troops are not the same as they were when they first landed.
Consequently. It has been seen fit that we are to be relieved by some of Kitcheners Army, in a
few weeks time.

I understand that we go then to Alexandria and collect our horses and all our paraphernalia there,
go to England, reorganise and after a months spell, go to France and try or luck there.

Personally, I would like to stay here and see this particular affair through, considering that we
have done so well. If we go, and Kitcheners Army eventually takes Constantinople, they will get
most of the kudos.

Still, Ill certainly relish a spell as we are all getting deadly sick of it.

Will let you know whats doing in a few days. Meantime, dont use this information at all, as my
letters escape censorship. Im not supposed to write this stuff at all.

Have been called up for a job, so will conclude now, dear Mater and Pater, with heaps of love
from one of your soldier sons

ART.

About 6th August 1915

Something doing tonight. In a few hours, we are going to be pretty busy, extremely busy, I should
say.

Its going to be the biggest and most important battle, since we came here. We understand, that
whatever the object is, the order is to do or die.

Every minute detail has been arranged to stir up Abdul and Mohammed right merrily.

I think the reason is the referee has cautioned both sides to fight up, else it would be declared
no contest, as neither side seems to be trying their hardest. The monotony of trench fighting
and inaction has, to some extent, worried our boys and they are glad that they have a chance to
do something. They seem all confident and are working up to a high pitch of excitement.

The Turks, through reconnaissance aeroplanes, have seen our preparations and of course, are
expecting trouble. Consequently, they have been giving us some hurry up this morning.

There are bound to be a few hurt and although I hope to get out of it alright, on the other hand, I
may have the bad luck to stop one.

In such unfortunate case, try not to be downhearted but think that I am endeavouring to do my
little bit in a big job that has to be done.

I wish that I could write more freely, as there is lots more that I would like to say.

By the way, Keith George is now Sergeant Major of the Column and I have got his job and have,
at last, got the long sought after extra bar. Seems that Sergeants are a special line in our family
eh? Well all be Sergeants.

Same place
2 weeks after Maters Birthday.

At last, some mail has arrived. I have also received four of five bundles of the Argus and the
Herald and two Bulletins. All of these are highly appreciated and I thank you very much for them.
I notice the usual pressed flower enclosed in each.

Your letter conveys the first official news of the advent of a new generation to the family. Im glad
that both Maie and her baby are both splendid. What a flash name, the baby is going to have:
Valerie Maie. Its such a pity, that such a brilliant beginning, should have to tail off so weakly,
with our common name of Smith.

You mention that you heard that I was very sick whilst in Egypt. Since being there, I have had two
or three, more or less severe, illnesses. I was sent away to hospital twice, once with pneumonia
and once with a raging fever. I can mention these things now because now, I am as right as rain.

Im glad to say that they have finally got the bullet out of Billie Evanss leg. In a recnt letter he
says that he is doing splendidly.

You mention that poor Limbrick is wounded. Poor Limbrick was never wounded. He is at
present, back at the base with a sore foot and some imaginary complaint. He turned out to be
one of the biggest funks with us.

The casualty lists continue to grow but Im glad that things are so bright up country, in Australia.
In my opinion, a great day will dawn for our great country of Australia when this affair is all over,
With a few good seasons now and the lesson Australians have been taught through the war to be
more independent and to act more on their own initiative, added to by this experience of us who
return, the benefits to the country should be wholesale.

What is scandalous, is the party strike and terrible disorder in the Federal Parliament and also
the threatened strike by the Engineers union. That sort of thing, at such a time, is hard to credit.

Of the attack that we started here about ten days ago, I can say that every man was not bound to
get hit but those who didnt were very lucky. As soon as the attack started, we started supplying
ammunition from the beach.

The route of the first trip that I went up to a battery, was in many parts, open. I had a party of
about thirty men, and across one space of about twenty yards that we had to traverse, was a
perfect curtain of shrapnel.

I lost seven wounded on that trip but how the number wasnt three times as large is astounding,
as the shrapnel just burst all around us, pellets missing us by inches on all side.

The very shells that we were carrying, were often hit. One shell accounted for a man on each
side of me, whilst I wasnt touched.

We just went on, knowing the only thing to do was to chance our luck.

When we got up to the battery, the depot that was ordinarily used as a battery ammunition base,
was now a temporary dressing station, willed with wounded and dying, although the attack had
only commenced an hour previously.

I had to grope about, in the dark, amongst the dead, to find a place to put the ammunition.

In this battle, we have captured hundreds of Turkish prisoners, all of whom are fat and as a
whole, are a fine stamp of man, which makes the term, the sick man of Europe sound
ridiculous.

The unspeakable Turk, is another term, which is apparently uncalled for, as from what I have
heard and seen, the Turk seems to be playing the game honourably and is no mean fighter.

By the way, I may have told you that I made Sergeant, a couple of weeks ago. No doubt, you will
both be pleased to hear it.

As for me, I am in the best of health and very happy, although still very homesick. I sincerely
hope that you are both well and happy.

Tons and tons of love from one of your Sergeants.

ART.

26-8-15

My dear Pater,

That you for your letter of 11/12 July, received yesterday.

You said that you were sending me a cartoon of me riding a donkey, published in the Punch and
captioned a slightly easier job or softer occupation than you should imagine I have gone through
since.

Guessed it in one! Riding a donk is a decidedly easier job than this one, although I doubt whether
Id sooner be back with a donkey in Egypt.

Kim Campbell, a pal of mine, was down to see me last night and told me a long yarn that I was
famous because my photo has appeared in the Punch under the heading of Heroes of the
Dardanelles. Underneath was the inscription, Corporal Arthur Smith of the Ammunition Column,
son of Mr. S. R. Smith- taken before his departure to the Dardanelles. This all makes me curious
to see this issue of the Punch and I hope that it arrives.

Perhaps life here isnt as easy but it is certainly full of incident and is intensely exciting. A chap,
strange to say, will do many weird things, in search of excitement.

Im sure I do not know how that I will knuckle down to the monotony, sameness and stiff
regimentality of a standing camp, after this- where a man doesnt have to salute every two yards;
hasnt to be continually polishing his leather belt; hasnt to march to any place that he may have
to go to and is often left to his oven initiative and resources.

One Saturday afternoon, when I belonged to the good old Saturday afternoon soldiers at home, a
fairly long time ago, it seems to me now and I attended a parade. When I came home, I received
a command to do something or other and complained that I was tired because I had been
pushing guns around, all afternoon.

Well hang it all, which was a long time ago. Pushing big guns now, is a serious business and we
Australian soldiers have won laurels at Gallipoli.

I told you, in a recent letter, of a few incidents occurring, during an attack on 6th August, lasting
several days without any relaxation of the fierceness.

Well, Im only in the Ammunition Column. I dont know why it is but there is always a feeling that
the battery boys ate a touch above us, We have the feeling ourselves.

When a batch of Ammunition Column boys are sent into the field to replace casualties, they look
on it as a step higher, though why, no one knows.

The point that Im coming to is that the mere column earned fame through their work during the
battle. Our Colonel has let it be known freely, what a lot he thinks of the Columns work, right from
the start and especially on this particular occasion.

He told us this as a whole, he has told his officers and he even spoke to me personally.
Yesterday, he was down at our Headquarters and told our skipper that the column was to me
mentioned in dispatches but if there were any particular men, who stood out above the rest, our
skipper would submit their names for special mention.

As it happens, or skipper wasnt there at the time of the attack and the Column was in the hands
of Lieutenant Herb Morris. Mr Morris did me the honour of sending for me to ask if there was
anyone whom I could suggest, who particularly stood out.

I was in charge of the dispatch of ammunition, so happened to know which men did especially
good work.

I mentioned twelve men, all of whom Mr. Morris approved. Today, the recommendation of this
party has gone in, signed by the skipper and underneath, a memo signed by me, conscientiously
vouching that these men stood out for their continual devotion to duty, under extremely heavy
shell fire.

After all this long winded account, I suppose that you expected to read that I had been
recommended for mention. No, I just recall this, as I am proud to be in the Column which claims
this distinction and I feel honoured to have been allowed to suggest the deserving men and to
support the recommendation.

For curiositys sake, Mr. Morris worked out a few statistics.

These twelve men carried from ordinance to the batteries, an average distance of a mile way, two
shells each, each weighing twenty-two and a half pounds (10 kgs) for each trip, for at least
seventeen trips each day. This works out that each man walked from twenty-five to thirty miles
(60-70 kms) per day and between them, handled from four to five tons of shells, per day.

The feat is emphasised by the fact that the going is all up precipitous cliffs and that they are fairly
slate, owing to having been for four months on active service and that they are not fed on roast
beef and baked potatoes but rather bully beef and biscuits.

To my mind, it is a great performance and I am proud to be in the poor, misjudged Column, when
it consists of boys of this calibre. It is not exaggerating to say, that many of those lads have since
been sent away, suffering from strain and are completely broken down.

It is very pleasing to read of the splendid recruiting campaign in Australia. I understand that the
result has been highly satisfactory. We are going to need the continual necessity for a steady
stream of reinforcements here.

My nerve is still good in the face of all my fearful experiences. Its going to take more than hairbreadth escapes, to make my hand shake when writing.

Fred seems to have settled down alright in Cairo. I had a wonderful note from him a day or two
ago and have just answered it. He told me to let him know should there be anything that I wanted,
so I took him at his word and have written for tinned fruit, chocolate and a few little extras.

I am looking forward to the day that we return to Egypt to reorganise, so that I shall have a
chance to see him.

Yes Pater, your letter did find me well and as happy as the circumstances permit. I am indeed
well and as fit as Jim Brunnings bulldog.

Lately, Sergeant Jackson and I have been enlarging and improving our dugout in view of a
prospective winter on the Peninsular. We are told, that in winter time, five feet of snow is quite
common on these hills, so we have put a solid roof over us.

The inside of out dugout, we have lined with boards that were once ammunition boxes. These
boards are American spruce, which is a very pretty wood, so we have created a sort of oak panel
effect.

A dado of two spare blankets gives the place a cosy appearance and three or four ammunition
boxes, let into the walls, are convenient as cupboards and wardrobes.

A few coloured photos of very fascinating ladies, torn from The Sketch are our pictures and two
big biscuit tins, sunk in the floor outside, are our pantry.

Two waterproof sheets, stretched across lengths of three by three, make two comfortable bunks
and a splendid suite of one table and three chairs which were once half a dozen ammunition
boxes.

With a few bits of stray timber and a few yards of hessian, we have constructed a veranda over
our promenade in front, which is about twelve feet (4 metres) by six feet (2 m)

A biscuit tin with one side and the top cut out, makes an ideal fireplace.

I control the daily issue of rum to the Column, so we have a permanent cupboard to entertain
wealthy clients from the country. Who wouldnt be a soldier?

A new day dawned for us yesterday.

Up until yesterday, bully beef and biscuits was the general menu but some enterprising individual
managed to land a limited supply of luxuries and a certain amount was apportioned to the 2nd FA
Brigade, providing that they had the wherewithal to purchase same.

Being now an illustrious sergeant and having a couple of sovereigns, I had the luck to be one of
the first to buy some of these luxuries, so now our pantry is well-stocked. We have half a dozen
tins of potted meat; a seven pound box of Frys chocolate; a couple of tins each, of sardines;
coffee and milk; condensed milk; various bottles of chutney, pickles, sauce, curry powder, herbs,
vinegar and quantities of candles, matches, tooth powder and many other wonderful things.
Besides all this, I managed to score a box of really fine cigars which I am very keen on. They
remind me very much of the famous Mallo cigars.

The last few days, weve been issued with rice bread, raisins and desiccated vegetables, so with
almost forgotten delicacies, we are now able to have many and wonderful dishes.

So you can understand why I can so easily claim happiness under war conditions. Mind you, this
may read as if we were on velvet and are becoming typical feather-bed soldiers but you must
understand that we may go for a long time without seeing our dugout, or being able to cook these
fine meals and besides that, Turkish shells are no respecters of any particular dugout, regardless
of how comfortable they are.

At the same time, it is natural that a chap should make himself as happy and comfortable as
possible when he has his spare time, as the time will come, no doubt, when he wont have even
as much spare time as we have now.

It is a great advantage having a practical wheeler sergeant as a stable-mate. It is he, to whom all
the credit is due, for the fine home that we have made. It is reckoned to be the best dugout on
this hill, including the officers dugouts.

9th September, 1915.

Happy birthday to Pater.

I am now in the Sergeant Majors office, as acting SM of the Column. What do you think of that,
for a junior Sergeant?

Mind you, I am still to be confirmed and there are plenty of others far more entitles to the office,
perhaps far more suited to it, at least with far more interest and influence on their side. But to
start with, I have the advantage of getting the acting job and so showing that at least, I can do the
job and I have already gained my skippers confidence and recommendation.

As the Sergeant Majors role consists of a good deal of detail work and clerical work, you will
understand that it is right into my hands. If I get the job, I shall be one of the proudest coves on
the Peninsula and I know that you will both be proud too. If I miss, I shall know that it is through
my junior rank and not because I am not making good while in the acting role. It is at least an
honour to jump over the heads of my seniors, if only for a few weeks (it is now more than two
weeks since I got the job).

This explains why I have neglected my letter-writing of late. It is never that I forgot or was too lazy.
Im ever thinking of you both over here and picturing our grand reunion, which must, I feel certain,
come in all good time.

Ill bet that you think of me often. Ill bet you have a thought of me today on the Paters birthday. I
intend to drink a silent toast tonight, when I get my issue of rum.

I smiled when I received the Punch with my photo in it. Every second chap in the column brought
a copy of Punch to show it to me.

I was pleased to receive the tobacco and cigarette papers.

Im sorry that I sent you that card from the hospital ship. It has apparently conveyed a wrong
impression. You say that from what Ive gone through, I must want rest and quiet to recuperate.
As a matter of fact, I was only on the hospital ship for a few days and though, at the time, I was
seriously ill with pneumonia and fever, I was back here in only ten days and am well here still,
thank heaven.

Re. the matter of the code-word, should I ever wish to cable you for a cool ten thousand for tooth
paste and fags. To avoid the swindle of fictitious cables, you neednt recognise one from me,
unless it is signed Henson. That will give you the good oil that it is dinkum.

Great preparations were being made for Australia day, when you wrote. Weve since heard what
a wonderful success it was.

Now Mater, a few words especially to you in acknowledgement of your welcomed letter of
26/7/15, with all the very patriotic emblems attached. The all ornament my dugout to some effect.
I am really a marvellous letter writer. Am I? You are a really wonderful kidder.

Im sorry Mater, that you were much upset, when you got a service card saying that I was sick. I
dont know what made me be such a fool as to send it. You say that Mrs. Yardley told you that her
son was suffering from nervous prostration and you suppose that is what the matter with me is.

Ha! Ha! All the nervous prostration Ive had, has never spoilt a nights sleep or a good feed for
me.

No Mater, although I have been sent away from here twice, dead crook, I have mended in a
matter of a few days. Although Ive had altogether, five illnesses at different periods whilst here,
at the present moment Im as fit as a fiddle. Its a funny thing but Ive never known these illnesses
before I lobbed on the blighted Peninsula but I sincerely trust that I shall be right-oh in the future.

The nervous prostration stunt is good. It is the Professional name for compound refrigeration of
the pedal extremities (cold feet).

I dont suppose a more unpopular man has left here from the Brigade. Everyone knows him as a
funk and a loafer and he has worked his passage to Australia by a rotten, worked up, yarn. Thats
Sergeant Yardleys nervous prostration.

I have a very unpleasant duty to attend to tonight.

In half an hour, I am going to the funeral of a little pal of mine, who was also my late Corporal.

Corporal BA Jones was sent by me, on a job last night and was brought down an hour later, shot
through the stomach.

I seem to feel his death more than anyone else who we have lost from the Column, principally
because I have lived with him, right from the first day at the Broadmeadows Camp but also
because he was such a great little chap.

15th September 1915.

You will be pleased to know, that I am now wearing a crown in addition to my lately acquired third
stripe and am rather proud of my rapid promotion over my seniors. Ive just received a letter from
Sergeant Fred to say how pleased he was to hear of me being promoted Sergeant. He says that
he expects, the next time he sees me, he will have to address me a Sir or Mr. Smith but I cannot
see anything like that ahead soon.

A second gum leaf has turned up in a letter, this one painted by Miss Armytage. I have also to
acknowledge the customary bunch of pressed violets, this time, with a Belgium ribbon and also a
postcard, very patriotically designed for our brave boys.

I think that I previously acknowledged a gum leaf painted by Mrs Phillip Fox and a boomerang.

It is dead funny, to see all the lads opening their correspondence and producing patriotic
emblems and parcels create a great interest when they get here.

I also received a type-written copy of a particular letter that I wrote. Its only when I read it again,
that I find what a picturesque liar I am.

No doubt, Colonel and Mrs. Randal would appreciate a letter from you, though I should think that
they have forgotten all about me by now. Fred has apparently, occasionally visited the, by his
letters.

Regarding Fred saying that he was rather sorry that he did not go into the firing line, I think that I
have put that idea out of his head. He mentioned it in a letter to me and I advised him to be
satisfied to do his job where he was.

Im pleased that Lady Stanley expressed the wish that I should return safely. I shall try to
accommodate her.

Pleased also, that Mrs Armytage has taken such a great interest in me. Arent I lucky?

You say, that when you mentioned that I was at the landing of the first gun, Miss. Violet Teague,
the artist, said that she would do a painting for me and sign it on the back. Good O!

Whats Miss Teague like? Full description by next mail please. This is all so romantic.

20th Sept. 1915.

Five days ago, I knocked off writing, intending to finish my letter the next day but my new office
has taken up so much time, that Ive has to leave correspondence very much aside.

Daytime doesnt see my job finished, as often ammunition returns; casualty sheets; conduct
sheets and so on, keep me going until well into the night.

Not that I am so hard-worked that I have not been having a good time. Far from it. The higher that
one goes in rank, the better the time one has.

I am now able to entertain right royally, in my very roomy office dugout. It is a really bonza (great)
dug, illuminated with wonderful pictures.

I find that my crown, of which I am so proud, carries a tremendous amount of weight.

Im just wondering what I shall do when I get my full equipment, which consists of, amongst other
things, a Sam Brown Belt, revolver and a sword. What Oh! Then for the first Turk I happen
across.

Well, enough skiting.

21/9/15

The papers that have just come to hand in the mail, give us accounts of the reception our boys
from here, have received on their home-coming.

I have also read the account by Ashmead-Bartlett, to which you refer. What a splendid account it
is and though, no doubt, he holds a brief for us, how real it all is.

I hope that you keep a cutting of his every report, as every post, redoubt or trench or gully that he
names, is intensely familiar to us all. His references to different movements and his general
remarks are so exact, that you would think that it was one of our own people here, with us in the
Column, who had written the report.

Apart from bravado, how true his reference to Australians is: his remark of their amazing
physique in comparison the European soldiers; his reference to their disdain for coats, hats,
shirts and even snipers and shrapnel.

One is pleased to read so able a writer, publishing these reports, not because they are
picturesque but because they are so true in detail.

One interesting remark, I noticed: There is one gun, in particular, that the colonials are longing to
have a reckoning with.

That one gun in particular is Beachy Bill. Just an hour ago, he lobbed a shell in the midst of our
camp, sending shrapnel into the sandbags composing my dugout, smashing up our cook-house
completely and incidentally wounding one of my Sergeants, one Bombardier (seriously) and two
drivers.

I went down to see the wounded off in the barge, a few minutes ago and on my way back with
Lieutenant Joe Skene, I witnessed another bit of hate from Beachy accounting for three
engineers, all instantly fatal.

I am pleased to say that lately, we have been fairly free from Beachys efforts but today, he has
had a successful day, worse luck.

I know that I should not mention these things but being so recent in my mind and then reading
Bartletts sentence, I have blundered into writing this.

I have also just read of Russias wonderful evacuation of Warsaw. This account by some war
correspondent was very graphic and detailed, describing how organised the people were, when
they left the historic city. They carried away even the smallest fragment of metal, blew up the
factories and destroyed the water-pumping plants, so that nothing would be left to benefit the oncoming Germans.

The Russians do seem to be getting it dished out to them pretty solidly but I have great faith in
their stamina.

I never rue the day that I decided to come away from the grand outback life to become a dinkum
soldier. There is only that I dont like here and that is that so many thousand miles separate us.
Just that one fact spoils the otherwise wonderful and interesting experience that I am having.

I have not once noticed, for more than a passing moment, the hardships people credit us with
enduring. We get hard work but we get good food in good quantity; good clothing; we have good
pals, good fun and excitement. For the most part, we have good health and above all, to date, I
have had good fortune. Good fortune, firstly in dodging serious trouble from Beachy Bill,
Lonesome Pine, Tired Tim, Whizz Bang and Co. Good fortune, secondly, in promotion. Good
fortune, thirdly, in being able to be happy in adverse circumstances.

ANZAC 28.9.15

Youd be tickled to death to see my dugout.

It is a great excavation in the side of a hill, the front being built up with sandbags. The whole affair
is timbered, so it cant fall in on me, with an iron roof and sandbags on top, to beat shrapnel
bullets.

It isnt impregnable, because yesterday, a neighbour twenty yards from me, had just as
substantial a home, blown out of existence.

Its comfortable. I have a proper bunk of timber and an oilskin sheet stretched across it. The
dugout has cupboards, hat-racks, a table and everything, right up to the knocker. You should see
the pictures. A dozen coloured pictures of lovely ladies, taken out of the Sketch, illuminate the
walls. A hurricane lamp and a couple of navy candles, form the means of lighting.

My larder is stocked with salmon, herrings, sardines, tinned fruit, pickles, sauce, condensed milk,
strawberry jam, chocolate and other wonderful things. Active Service, eh what!!

But, of course, things havent been as bright as this, Oh no! My new crown has a lot to do with it.
That and a recently made acquaintance with a petty Officer on the dear old Bacchante. This Petty
officer sent me along, a huge case with a liberal assortment of luxuries, a few days ago and so
Im doing a bit better than bully beef and biscuits for a while.

This little grey home in the East, was the scene of a great little night, last night.

After tea, Hamie Reade came along to see me, as he so often does. At eight oclock, Lieutenant
Joe Skene, late Sergeant of No.5 Battery and Warrant Officer Dowsett called in for a yarn. My
Officer Commanding, Lieutenant Eddy, feeling a bit lonely by himself, also came in.

This was a great rendezvous for a few hours at night. In the course of conversation, I apologised,
that owing to the rum issue being stopped, I couldnt offer them a drink, whereupon Mr, Eddy, to
buy his way into the interesting party, went to his dugout and came back with a bottle of Black
and White whisky.

This got Ham going on telling yarns and he continues to hold the floor and throw out a hint, every
now and then, for another nip and then apologise for bumming drinks.

All the time, Lieutenant Eddy, who is a very dignified man, wore a rather reserved look. Ham kept
us going with yarns and anecdotes of the scrapes hed been in at different times. In fact, Hamie
was in his best mood and he kept us laughing like blazes, until 1-30 am and the bottle was
empty.

I thought afterwards, that as nobody has having more than a taste, bar Ham, he must have fixed
the best part of the bottle, single handed, like Jacka did the Turks in the trench. The O.C. wanted
to know when Reade was coming over again. He said that a night like this, now and again, would
be alright.

We had a very exciting experience, last night at about midnight.

A Taube flew over and dropped a number of steel darts and a couple of bombs, one landing
unpleasantly close to the hospital ship. No damage to speak of was done.

On his way back, the aeroplane was very low down, perhaps six hundred feet, probably on
account of being doubtful as to just where he was.

It was intensely thrilling when he was directly over our heads. Hamie got one of the darts that he
dropped. I understand that these darts will go right through a man from head to foot and will
pierce the deck of a battleship.

This was his first visit after dark and I trust that it will be his last.

By the way, Im sanguine enough about business here to think that we may yet avert a winter
campaign. At any rate, whatever happens, well be right here when asked for.

Im so keen on this job now that I wouldnt be surprised if I took the caper on as a profession,
when weve got Kaiser Bill safely exiled in Canberra or a like spot.

Bert, old pal, I wish to hell that you could be here and share this glorious time. Its damn rotten at
times but on the whole, it is glorious. There are times when your blood tingles and you feel as
pleased as blazes with yourself, not out of bravado but just because you are here.

I only meant to write a few lines to tell you that weve got Mohammed and his crowd scratching
their nuts.

Talk about scratching. Theyve got us scratching ourselves all over. This darned place just
swarms with lice. Were all lousy Australians.

Well old chap, I might make myself a cup of chocolate to wash down a bit of cheese and bread,
preparatory to turning in. Chocolate on the battlefield- what! And this is war.

Well war does certainly have some few smooth sides to it, to occasionally tone down the many
rough sides. Heres a soldier who finds his fair share of smooth sides and all the little happinesss
that can be found in adverse circumstances.

Admitted suffering from Pyrexia (Febrile Fever)

Malta Hospital 22.10.15

My dear Mater and Pater,

I feel dreadfully homesick today. When one is in hospital, with very little to occupy your mind, one
gets plenty of time to thinks of home.

In peace time, the hospital is the barracks for the Malta garrison troops and consequently, in
connection with the barracks, is a concert hall, billiard room and library.

Im glad to say that I am up and out of bed now. They let me get up a few days ago and though I
still felt a trifle weak, yet as far as my health is concerned, I am now as well as ever.

I have asked, day after day, to be allowed to go back to the Peninsula but they dont seem to
want to send me away. My Medical Officer answers, each time that I shall be fixed up shortly.

Not that Im so blood-thirsty that I want to go back and kill Turks. Im keen on that of course but
its only a side-line. I want to get back more on account of my mail, which is being kept there for
me. Its rotten without any mail.

I was told today that I may shortly be sent back to a convalescent hospital. Its such a lot of rot,
when I feel so well. I dont want to waste another two or three weeks, as a convalescing patient.
Why on earth, they cannot send me back to my unit from here, I dont know.

It seemed to me all such a useless lot of red tape and being in hospital feels just like being in
prison. There is nothing to do but to read and one gets awfully tired of that.

There is nothing to see except our immediate surroundings which, though they are splendidly
picturesque, become terribly monotonous when one sees the same view, day after day.

Certainly, the people look after us very well and the Maltese residents are exceptionally good to
us, as are the Saint Johns Red Cross people.

Still, on the whole, its dead rotten and Im heartily sick of the whole business. I dread to think that
Ill still have to go another two or three weeks and theres no way of getting back to the war from
here, as I did from the hospital at Lemnos.

I was to be sent to a convalescent camp in England along with a batch of chaps who left here
yesterday but I asked to be left behind. Ill see England when the rest of the lads on the
Peninsula go there.

All I want is to get on a boat, right here and now and go back to the boys on Gallipoli and
perhaps the bare possibility of a star on my shoulder strap shortly.

Here, I am amongst total strangers, for the most part Englishmen, who talk in a language or
brogue of their own, which, very often, I cannot understand a word of.

Believe me, the Australian may be a skite and a brag but he has to go some way to keep up with
his English cousins, according to the gallant deeds all the Englishmen in my ward say that they
have done on the Peninsula.

Im afraid that Bulgarias action in joining Germany will have the effect of prolonging the war,
although I feel sure that the end cannot be many months off now.

Certainly Bulgarias entry is bad news but I think that we shall be able to fix her up. No doubt it
will affect our own Australian Troops operations to some extent, in the Near East.

It will be interesting to see how the Bulgars look on the action of their government, taking up arms
against the Russians, Slavs of the same blood. People in Malta here, seem to think that there is
bound to be dissention in the Bulgarian Army.

By the way, did I tell you about my trip to Valetta, the Capital City of Malta a day or so ago?

I hired a Gharry (a native carriage) and drove to Sliema, from whence I took a ferry across to
Valetta. It was a very interesting trip.

I had a big feed at the best caf I could find, to make up for all the heard tucker that Ive
consumed in the last six months of the Peninsula.

I fell in love with scores of Maltese girls, only for the moment of course. But really, the Maltese
girls are beautiful. Of course, I know a few in Australia who will beat this band.

I expect that this note will reach you very near Christmas time. Therefore, I shall take this
opportunity to send my sincerest wish, despite the gloom all over the world at this time, that you
Mater and Pater and all at home, may have an immensely happy Christmas tide.

I trust also, that the New Year may bring nothing but happiness and brightness and that before it
is a very old year, may Fred and I be back home again and that we be all, once more, together.

Malta, 30/10/15.

As you see above, I am still in Malta, although now I am at another hospital.

Four days ago, I was transferred to a Convalescent Camp, where I have to remain for about
another week before returning to business.

Im pleased to say that Im far happier here than I was at the other hospital, which I felt was
almost a prison. Here, we are allowed a fair amount of freedom and besides that, we have a
great Sergeants Mess, which is more like a big club than a hospital.

There are at present there are ninety-four Sergeants and Sergeant-Majors belonging to the
Mess, so as you can imagine, we knock out some fun.

Nothing to do all day but sleep, eat, visit Valetta and generally enjoy ourselves. At night we have
concerts, parties, cards etc.

Yesterday another Sergeant-Major and myself went into Valetta and had a great day. We hired a
gharry and drove out to the Saint Antonios Gardens, four miles from the city." He then left for
France on recovery.