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CHAPTER XVII
THE V.C.'S OF ANZAC
In all records of bravery, and in all chronicles of devoted deeds, there occur some acts that stand out even against the brilliant background on which they are set. It was so at Anzac. The immortal story of the landing is set with such resplendent actions, but in many cases there was no responsible officer at hand to report the amazing daring of the Australasians on those first days. Afterwards it was possible to keep a closer record of individual actions, and the result was that a number of the men of Anzac received the supreme award for valour in the British army, the Victoria Cross.
The first of these distinctions fell to a non-commissioned officer of the 14th Battalion of Australian Infantry, for a remarkable exploit performed on the night that followed the attempt made by Liman von Sanders to drive the Anzacs into the sea on May 19. Sergeant Jacka, then a Lance-Corporal, was the hero of this feat of daring.
On the night of May 19 a body of Turks suddenly delivered so fierce a bomb attack upon a section of advanced trench held by ten men and a sergeant of the 14th Battalion that every man in the trench was either killed or wounded. The Turks followed up this success by jumping into the trench, and Captain Boyle, who entered this section of trench by a communication trench, was wounded by a shot fired by them, but was able to give the alarm.
Jacka immediately jumped from the communication trench up to the step or bench behind the last traverse of the section of the trench in which the Turks were, and with fixed bayonet held them at the traverse, round which they feared to come. Meanwhile Lieutenant Hamilton, a gallant young officer of the 14th, went to the other end of the captured trench, and began firing at the Turks with his revolver. He appears to have accounted for three of them before he was shot by them through the head.
At his end Jacka, single-handed, kept the Turks at bay. The cry of officer wanted brought up Lieutenant Crabbe with a platoon, three men of which, Howard, De Gruchy and another, were all friends and fellow-townsmen of Jacka. Howard sprang forward, followed by the other two, but when he put his head round the traverse he fell, wounded in three places. At this moment Jacka rushed around to the other end of the trench, and took the Turks in the rear. Five he killed in succession with rifle shots and two more he caught and bayoneted as they were trying to escape by climbing out of the trench.
At the same time the party at the other end of the trench advanced and accounted for four more Turks, thus clearing the trench effectually.
Jacka has a remarkable record, as he was at the original landing, and fought through the whole of the Anzac battle. When the final withdrawal took place he was one among five of the original members of the 14th still remaining.
No more V.C.'s were awarded until the August fighting, when this distinction was awarded to a number of the men of Anzac. Foremost among them was Captain Shout, of the 1st Battalion, who died at the post of duty after earning deathless glory for himself and the country that will be for ever proud to number such men among her sons.
On April 27 Lieutenant Alfred John Shout won the Military Cross and his promotion for conspicuous bravery and ability as a leader. From that time forward he was a shining example of cheerful courage to those associated with him. His name crops up in countless letters of Australian soldiers; his coolness, his audacity and his good cheer were on the lips of all.
His battalion was the reserve of the 1st Brigade when the Lone Pine position was taken by assault, and was soon called to take part in repelling the fierce counter-attacks delivered by the enemy. A feature of the position was a long communication trench, one end of which was held by the Turks, while the other led almost directly to the Brigadier-General's head-quarters.
While General Smythe was standing outside his dug-out on the morning of August 9, the Turks made a very desperate attack by way of this trench, coming round the last traverse in full view of the General, and only separated from him by a barricade breast high. They were driven back behind this barricade, and then Captain Sass, with three men, determined to drive them farther back with bombs and rifle shots. In this he was joined by Captain Shout.
They started together, Captain Sass with his rifle and Captain Shout with bombs. Captain Shout had a good look round to see the position and then pushed the barricade down. They went forward two abreast, Captain Sass shooting and Captain Shout bombing. As Captain Shout's bombs fell those following could hear the bustle of accoutrements and scrambling cries round the next corner. They finally reached the point where it was decided that it would be suitable to build the last barricade. Captain Shout all the time was laughing and joking and cheering the men immensely by his example. He resolved to make a big throw before the final dash. He tried to light three bombs at once, so that they might be quickly thrown, and the Turks prevented from hindering the building of the barricade. He ignited all the three and threw one, then either the second or the third burst as it was leaving his hand, shattered one hand and most of the other, destroyed one eye and laid open his cheek, and scored his breast and leg. Captain Shout was nevertheless conscious and talked cheerfully. He drank tea and sent a message to his wife. Since the day of his arrival he had been the heart and soul of his section of the firing line. His invincible buoyancy and cheerfulness was a great help to the men. He succumbed to his injuries.
Captain Tubb of the 7th Battalion also won the Victoria Cross in the defence of Lone Pine, and associated with him were Sergeant William Dunstan, and Corporal Alexander Stuart Burton of the same battalion, both of whom were similarly honoured. In the early morning of August 9 Captain Tubb, then a lieutenant, was holding with his company a section of newly-captured trench of the utmost importance to the defence of the whole position. A fierce bomb attack was delivered upon the centre of the trench and maintained for hours with the utmost fury.
Every man worked like a hero, the officer setting a shining example. The bombs were fielded as they came over the barricade and returned before they had time to explode. Dunstan himself returned over twenty bombs in this fashion, and his work was equalled by Burton and others. One nameless and devoted soldier, seeing a bomb about to explode at the feet of Captain Tubb, threw himself upon it and saved his officer's life at the cost of his own.
Three times the enemy blew in the barricade which separated them from the brave Anzacs, and as often Captain Tubb led his men forward, drove them off, and rebuilt the barricade. Once again they came forward, and in rebuilding the barricade under a perfect hail of bombs the gallant Burton lost his life. The Captain was wounded in the head and the arm, but he still cheered his men on, and eventually the enemy were beaten off.
Sergeant Dunstan, who came from my own native city of Ballarat, is further the hero of an act of self-denial which it is pleasant to record. The Mayor of the city, proud of his gallantry, promoted a testimonial which had already grown to a very substantial sum when the knowledge of it came to Dunstan. He at once wrote a letter, couched in terms of modest dignity, refusing to be the recipient of any testimonial for the mere performance of his duty.
On the preceding night, not far from the spot where these gallant actions were performed, Lieutenant William John Symons, also of the 7th Battalion, was similarly hard pressed by the Turks. With a gallant little band of this brave battalion he was holding a section of the freshly-captured trench somewhat to the right of that held by Captain Tubb. The enemy came in force, and rained bombs into the trench. He repelled a number of furious attacks, and early in the morning was called to a sap-end where six officers in succession had been killed or wounded, and a portion of the sap retaken by the enemy.
The lieutenant led a charge which resulted in the recapture of the whole sap, and in the charge he shot two Turks with his revolver. He then withdrew for fifteen yards and ordered the construction of a barricade across the sap. His part in this work was to hold up an iron shield which covered the men at work with the sandbags, while he was exposed. The enemy succeeded in setting fire to the woodwork and fascines of the head cover, but Lieutenant Symons put the fire out, and continued the work of building the barricade. His coolness and determination finally compelled the enemy to discontinue their attacks.
Lance-Corporal Leonard Keyzor, of the 1st Battalion, obtained his V.C. chiefly for his actions in the south-eastern corner of the Lone Pine, where the situation was so difficult on August 7 that a section of the outer trench had to be abandoned, and which has not since been held by ourselves or the Turks, and in personally superintending the retirement from which the gallant Colonel Scobie was killed. Keyzor was one of the best bomb-throwers in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. During these fierce attacks he was throwing for fifty hours almost continuously. He was sent to first one corner of the trenches and then to another, but mainly to this warm corner, not only throwing bombs but constantly smothering with his coat or sandbag the enemy's bombs which had fallen in the trench. He often threw them back. Finally, when the enemy cut down the time of the fuses, he caught several bombs in the air like a cricket ball and threw them back before bursting.
On August 8, at the same place, Private Keyzor bombed the enemy out of a position, from which a temporary mastery over his own trench had been obtained, and was again wounded. Although marked for hospital, he declined to leave, and volunteered to throw bombs for another company which had lost its bomb-throwers.
Private John Hamilton, of the 1st Battalion, won his V.C. on August 9, also at the Lone Pine. About daybreak, when the Turks were beginning to creep up the communication trenches to attack the captured trenches with bombs, Hamilton climbed up on to the top of the parapet and waited there in the open overlooking the trench up which the enemy came, and making a little position behind the sandbags, told the officer below whenever the Turks were coming up to attack. Several other men were up beside him a portion of the time, doing the same, but Hamilton stayed up there, under the open sky and entirely unprotected from shrapnel or snipers, five or six hours, shooting the approaching Turks and passing down the word of their advance.
Corporal Cyril Royston Guyton Bassett, New Zealand Divisional Signal Company, received the Victoria Cross for most conspicuous bravery and devotion to duty on the Chunuk Bair ridge in the Gallipoli Peninsula on August 7.
After the New Zealand Infantry Brigade had attacked and established itself on the ridge, Corporal Bassett, in full daylight and under a continuous and heavy fire, succeeded in laying a telephone line from the old position to the new one on Chunuk Bair. He has subsequently been brought to notice for further excellent and most gallant work.
The last V.C. awarded at Anzac was that won by the gallantry displayed at Hill 60 on August 29 and 30 by Lieutenant Hugo Vivian Hope Throssell of the 10th Australian Light Horse. Lieutenant Throssell was second in command to Captain Fry, who led a charge to retake a section of trench captured from the enemy and retaken by them. The section of trench was successfully stormed and the enemy driven out. A barricade was then built, and the Turks returned and delivered a fierce bomb attack, in the course of which Captain Fry was killed.
Lieutenant Throssell then took charge, and with Sergeant Ferrier, Corporal McNee and Private McMahon maintained a resolute defence of the barricade. The Turks repeatedly renewed their attacks, which Throssell and his men withstood, returning the bombs that were thrown and replying energetically in kind. With them was associated Private Renton, who like his comrades did excellent work in fielding and returning bombs.
The attacks were continued all the night of the 29th and through the morning of the 30th. Ferrier sustained a wound from which he subsequently died, and Renton was so badly wounded that his leg has since had to be amputated. Lieutenant Throssell was himself twice wounded, but he continued a vigorous defence of the trench until he was relieved. He then had his wounds dressed, and returned to the position to see that all was right there.
The holding of that section of the trench meant the subsequent capture of the hill itself. By his personal courage and example Lieutenant Throssell kept up the spirits of his party, and was largely instrumental in saving the situation at a critical period.
During the course of the war at least three other Australians, attached to the British army, have been awarded the V.C. for deeds of great courage. Foremost among these is the well-known airman, Captain Lance George Hawker, of the Royal Engineers and Flying Corps, who was decorated with the V.C. and D.S.O. He was awarded the D.S.O. for a bomb-dropping exploit, and the V.C. for an extraordinarily valiant fight against three German aeroplanes on July 25. The first managed to escape, the second was badly damaged and compelled to descend, while the third, which was assailed at a height of 10,000 feet, was not only badly damaged, but was driven to ground in the British lines, both the pilot and the observer being killed. The personal bravery shown by the young officer was exceptional, as each of the enemy aeroplanes carried machines-guns, a pilot and observer.
Corporal William Cosgrove, of the 1st Battalion of the Royal Munster Fusiliers, is an Australian, and was awarded the Victoria Cross for displaying most conspicuous bravery in the leading of his section with great dash during the attack from the beach to the east of Cape Helles, on the Turkish position on April 26, 1915.
Corporal Cosgrove, on this occasion, pulled down the posts of the enemy's high wire entanglements single-handed, notwithstanding a terrific fire from both the front and flank, thereby greatly contributing to the successful clearing of the heights.
The latest case is that of Lieutenant Dartnell, of the Regiment of Frontiersmen, who lost his life and won the V.C. at the same time, by a singularly devoted action in East Africa. Himself wounded, Lieutenant Dartnell returned to a body of wounded men to endeavour to save them from the advancing black troops of the enemy. His dead body was found surrounded by a number of the enemy whom he had slain, showing that he had sold his life dearly when it came to the last.
Lieutenant Dartnell was a well-known actor in Australia and a great public favourite. He is said to be the first actor who has been awarded the supreme honour for valour.
CHAPTER XVIII
SAID AN AUSTRALIAN OFFICER
"Fraternizing with the Indians!" chuckled the Australian officer, as he laid down a London evening paper which had been expressing satisfaction at the fact that Australasians and Indians were fighting side by side before Sari Bair. "The last fraternizing I saw was being done by a young officer of the A.S.C. He was brandishing something that looked like a pick handle (of course he never used it), and demanding a lost transport mule in a fervid mixture of Arabic, Turkish, and Never-Never talk from the Back of Nowhere.
"You see, these Indians are fatalists to a man; they think that if they are to be hit, they must be, and there's an end of it. The consequence is, they take no care of themselves; and that wouldn't matter so much, if they'd only take reasonable care of the mules. Mules are precious, but they take their mules anywhere, and lose them. Hence the fraternizing. 'Where's my mule, son of Belial?' this chap was shouting; and the other things he was saying made even a little middie look shocked.
"We never got tired of those middies. You'd see a pinnace coming up to the beach under shellfire, and a little chap of fourteen talking to the boat's crew like a Yanko bullock driver. The big sailor men were all grinning with sheer delight at the snap of the boys, who didn't seem to know what fear was. I tried some middy's talk on my men once, and startled them down to their bones. They thought about it for half a minute, and then one fellow asked me where I was hit.
"When we go back to Australia, the Australian language will be richer for a word or two of Arabic, that will go there to stay. We have made a regular battle cry of 'Imshi Yalla,' which means 'Get on with it' as far as we can make out. Then there's 'Mafish,' meaning 'Finished.' It was the last word on the lips of many a good man in those days at the end of last April. The ordinary camp greeting is 'Sayeeda' – 'Good day,' or 'How d'ye do?' as I take it. There's a word or two more, but there is no need to translate them. They are useful words.
"The Turks are fine fellows. People ask me if they were not very cruel; and I hear all sorts of rumours about mutilations, and so on. There is not one word of truth in it. The story went round that one well-known Australian officer had been found hideously mutilated; and I happen to be in a position to contradict that story point-blank. When the armistice was declared at the end of the battle of Quinn's Post, it was my sorrowful duty to identify and bury the body of that officer. He had not a mark on him, except the honourable wound that caused his death. Dr. Springthorpe, who is the chief Australian medical officer in Egypt, has assured me that no case of mutilation has been treated in the hospitals there; which contradicts some very circumstantial stories that have found their way into print, both here and in Australia.
"That armistice was a funny business. Of course, the only people with any business between the lines were the Red Cross people, but no sooner had the armistice begun than a whole lot of German officers in Turkish uniforms stepped out, and began to make the best use of their opportunities for taking observations. The only counter for that was that we should go out too, and we did so. The Germans were as grumpy as pigs about it, but the Turkish officers turned out to be fine gentlemen. Soon I was swopping cigarettes with them, and we were carrying on a conversation in bad French, eked out with scraps of all other tongues. They were quite jolly fellows, and brave fighters into the bargain.
"It was during that armistice that I saw a German officer talking to some Turkish soldiers with a shovel. They did not move quickly enough to suit him, I suppose, and he laid into them with it. He was not particular whether the flat or the edge of it struck them, so long as he did not miss altogether. I said to my fellows, 'How should we get on, if I did that to you?' and they only scowled. Two of them went out a night or two afterwards, and came back with some buttons they said were his. I don't know.
"Yes, the Turks are brave men, and brave women, too. I saw with my own eyes one sniper brought in, all covered with twigs and painted green in the face. This sniper was smoking a cigarette presented by one of our fellows, and when a couple more added a pat on the back, and said 'Cheero,' the sniper burst into tears. It was a young Turkish girl. Upon my word, I saw the thing happen. She had provisions for three weeks and a thousand rounds, and as nice a little cubby-hole as you ever saw to hide in. I don't know what became of her, but I can vouch for what I am telling you being true.
"We will always remember the Turks kindly for one thing. We lost General Bridges, our chief; who fell to a sniper's bullet in Monash Gully (The Valley of Death), when on his round of inspection. He refused to be carried down to the sea-front, because of the danger his bearers would have to risk. Of course, no one would hear of such nonsense; and he was carried. He was taken slowly through all the most dangerous windings of the valley; yet not a single Turk fired a shot. That stands to their credit with every Australian on the peninsula.
"There are lots of funny things I could tell you, but you might think I was qualifying for the post of 'First Man.' The First Man? Oh, that's a title any fellow gets in the trenches who begins to tell tall yarns. You see, in the first days there was a lot of talk about who was the first man ashore. He turned up here, there, and everywhere; everybody knew him. I believe there were some fights about it. Then some fellows out at Courtney's had a big tin medal made, and whenever any one began boasting, he would be presented with this medal, inscribed, 'For the First Man Ashore.' Nearly every battalion has one of those medals now.
"There were three brothers in my company, all as brave as lions. Fred, the youngest of the three, was reckless with it; and his two brothers were always worrying about him. One day he was hit on the shoulder, and when they saw him go down one brother shouted to the other, 'Thank Heaven, young Fred's got it!' Of course, we all knew what he meant – he was pleased the boy had got off with a light wound – but it made the fellows laugh. After that, whenever one of them was hit, he'd shout, 'Thank Heaven, young Fred's got it!' and then lie down and curse.
"This brother was the coolest customer in the trench, and that was saying something. He was a crack shot, and a great hand at destroying Turkish periscopes. Smashing the business end of a periscope with a rifle bullet, even at short range, is not so easy as it sounds; for the observers keep them moving about erratically, so that it is something like a very small disappearing target. But Bill nailed one nearly every time he shot, and the Turks used to chatter with rage at each loss. I don't think they had too many of them.
"They broke a good many of our periscopes in the same fashion; and the broken glass used to fly about in a very nasty way. I had five men cut about the face and head on one day, through their periscopes being broken at observation work. Then we improvised a sort of safety helmet out of half a kerosene tin, and put an end to that trouble. We tried the new steel embrasures at Quinn's Post, but I consider them sheer death traps, where the trenches are so close to those of the enemy as twenty yards. The fellows who used them at a distance of 150 or 200 yards spoke most highly of them; but where I was, a gap in the sandbags served much better.
"The Turk is a punctual beast. We used to time our watches every evening by the first shell of the evening bombardment, which invariably came along at ten minutes past six. On the night of May 18, that first shell was followed by 170 others before it had gone seven o'clock, which was pretty good going. The armistice of the 20th May was supposed to end at four o'clock in the afternoon, and at one minute past, along came the first shell, just to show us that our friend Abdul had his eye on the clock.
"It came from an entirely new direction, too, which showed that the opportunity for observation afforded by the armistice had not been wasted. But I think we were able to show that we had not shut our eyes to things that were easily noticeable. They certainly did not gain much in the exchanges over that armistice. It's all in the game, after all. There has been little said about the work of the Australasian artillery, and for the very best of reasons. But the gunners, and especially the New Zealanders, will get their due later on.
"There is one New Zealander who is a perfect marvel with a machine-gun – Captain Wallingford, a champion shot. He got the Military Cross for his great work on the opening days, so one can speak about him. A machine-gun soon draws fire, and it was no uncommon thing for the whole of a section to go down soon after a machine-gun opened fire. The way he shifted his gun about in unfamiliar, broken country, through thick scrub and in the dark, was something to dream about. He had a sharpshooting section, too, that was death on snipers, and cleared a whole section of the front in very quick time.
"Colonel Owen's men (the 3rd Battalion) always call him 'Old Never-Retire.' I asked one of them the reason, and he said that on the morning of the first landing the Colonel had to take his fellows up a very steep bit of cliff, almost inaccessible. His position worried the Admiral so much that he signalled that he had better retire, and try farther to the right. The Colonel turned on the chap who brought the message and said, 'My compliments to the Admiral, and tell him I'll see him damned first.' I don't know whether that is true, for I never had the chance of testing it. But his men swear to it.
"The loudest cheer I heard from the trenches was given to a sergeant1 whose name I never found out; but I heard he was a Western Australian. Two sharpshooters had crawled out about thirty yards for a better shot, and had gone down together; one with a broken arm, and the other with a shot through the thigh. They lay there, with bullets kicking up the dust around them, when this sergeant went out with a rope. He tied it round the waist of the man with the broken arm, who was dragged to the trench, yelling with pain. Then he picked the other fellow up on his back, and brought him in through a perfect rain of bullets. He never had a scratch. It was away to the left of me, and below me, and I saw it all through my glasses, and heard the cheers, as if I were sitting in the circle at a theatre. We found by signal he was unhurt, but could not get his name.
"There were two platoons away on the right who distinguished themselves by getting farther inland than any one else. Not many of them returned to tell the tale, but it was a queer story. They lost all their officers and most of the non-coms. quite early on. The rest only knew they were there to take a hill, and so they took one. Then, for fear that might be the wrong hill, they took another. That set them off taking all the hills in sight, a pretty tall order. They only stopped when they blundered on to the Turkish camp; the wonder is that any of them ever got back.
"I wish the Turks were as cleanly as they are brave and punctual. They keep their trenches in a filthy condition. I know, because I occupied one for half a day. We were told to take it; and that was all right, with the help of the bayonet. We stayed there half a day, and were quite glad when we were ordered back again. It was dangerous enough there; but, for the moment, the danger was nothing compared to the stench and vermin. We lost a lot of men getting out; but were told the tactical purpose had been achieved. So that was all right.
"Shortage of water was one of the chief hardships of the place. If one wanted a wash, he had to go down and wash in the sea; and that was only safe at night time, up to the time I left. I got my bullet down on the beach; it had come from Dead Man's Ridge, right at the top of the Valley of Death – or Monash Gully, as it is now called. I understand the Turks have been cleared from that ridge now, and that a trip down the valley is safe enough. But for two months after the landing it was asking for death to walk down it in the daylight. The water? Oh, the allowance is a quart a day to each man for drinking, and as much for cooking; and all fare alike. We saved for three days for a comfortable shave, and had to go short of a drink to do it.
"The grimmest experience I encountered was in the early days, when I had to decide in a second to order my men to shoot on unarmed Turks. They came forward with their hands up, and I fancied I saw the flash of a bayonet or two in the scrub behind. So I gave the order to shoot; and five seconds later I knew I was right, for we were busy repelling the determined attack of a considerable force. If we had tried to make prisoners of their pioneers, we would have been in a nice fix. Incidents like that explain why the number of prisoners taken is not large; there is so much cover there that it is a risky game making prisoners.
"There are plenty of Germans there; the artillery officers and the whole of the machine-gun sections are Germans. They wear Turkish uniforms, and are what we call 'Pointers' in Australia. During the armistice, they were trying very hard to get their rifles away with bolts and all, back to the Turkish lines. They were supposed to take the rifle and leave the bolt, thus making the weapon useless. I had to stop quite a number who were sneaking off with complete rifles; there was a bit of a row about one man, because I happened to hit him with my fist. I could not make him understand what I wanted by any other means. But there are fewer Germans now than when we first landed."
