AT GALLIPOLL.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume XXXV, Issue 8247, 18 September 1915, Page 7

AT GALLIPOLL.

CONTINUED TRENCH WARFARE

NEW ZEALANDERS HOLDING

THEIR GROUND

(From Malcolm lloss, Special War Correspondent with the N.Z. Forces!)

ANZAC COVE, July 24. Since my last letter was despatched, there has been no material change in the situation and Turks and Australasians are still facing each other in the, trenches they have occupied for some | time past. The operations at Quinn's and Courtney's continue to be the most interesting. Indeed, they are fascinating, for, as has already been stated, they are really unique in warfare. As you walk through trench after trench and sap after sap at Quinn's or creep doubled up along the dark mining galleries, your interest is quickened, and though you never quite know when a bomb will come hurtling over the parapet or when a mine may be exploded above or below or at your side, you become so interested that fear vanishes. The genial colonel who is in charge and .who shows you round is a 1 well known Tarsnaki barrister,' and his motto is that the art of war lies in the cultivation of the domestic virtues.; Therefore, he is transforming Quinn's into a model workshop and dwelling-place wherein you can even drink i a cup of tea in peace ! Seriously speaking, he has worked wonders at Quinn's, and the Quinn's of to-day is safer and more

habitable^ than was the'post of earlier days. It Ms only when the gallant colonel gets one of his men to throw a bomb across the very few yards of intervening space between you and the Turkish firing line and there is a loud explosion, the while you wait expectantly for a like favour from the Turk, that you realise you. are "up against it." It is a still stranger, sensation

at the end of a narrow dark tunnel to listen to some solitary Turk working industriously with his pick only a few feet away from where you are crouching. As you hear him tap-tapping like a woodpecker in a hollow tree you begin to wonder what he is thinking about and what will be the end of his hard, uncomfortable labour. Generally speaking it is the miner and not fthe counter-miner who wins out in the end in these attacking operations. This particular fellow has had his tunnel blown in upon him three times, yet here he is again picking away in the hope of undermining our position.

Another important'; post that is teresting is held by the New Zealanders and a section of the Australian Light Horse. Here you find yourself

iii a perfect labyrinth of deep trenches, with, at intervals, sand-bagged parapets. The position is in charge of a Brigadier-General, well-known in the Hawke's. Bay district. 'Deeply-cut shelters are cut into the earth from the trenches, and in these the men can rest and sleep in safety, if not in.comfort.. The "shelters"'" are all numbered. Along the trenches also are little niches, such as you might see in a church wall for sacred images. These, with their blackened,clay, are' the Jittho r^cPißscs where, under tiny firesythe men do their cooking in their "dixies." You come upon "Main Street" and "Broadway" arid ."White Lane," and one sign points ; to , "Happy ' Valley," which is, .no: doubt, a haven; of .rest for weary,-troops.. r ;.,A11. this is, on. Russell'si Top—a prolongation of Walker's Ridge, i Telephone wires and barbed-wire and wire-netting enter into the scheme of defence. The trenches are clean, but:

«-fyv rrvj-nU of +1)O flead killed in the last Turkish attack still hangs about them. We have como to a place where we are within a few yards of tho enemy's rifles, and you dare not show an inch or two of yoiir head above the parapet for fear of being sniped. Our friend the enemy has to be equally careful. We tf.ko a pcr /scope, and putting the top plass above the trench carefully examine the Turkish position. Between our trench and theirs nre a number of empty tins that the Turks

have . thrown away, and in amongst these, and quite near us, are some p+Tancro little h?aps that look like the discarded clothes of a number of tramps. Looking at them more intently you not<> that some of the ragged hundles have just a suggestion of human shape. They cover the bodies of dead Turks, the attenuation of which in this everlasting hot 'summer sun proceeds somewhat rapidly, if unpleasantly. They are remaiiivS of Turks shot down in the last attack, and neither side dare go out to. bring the bodies in or to bury them. In the end they will become skeletons, and eventually one side or the other, after an advance, will gather the little heaps together, and consign them to a common shallow grave. It was at this spot, some few days ago, that one of our staff—a member of the House of Commons—did. rather-a daring thing. A wounded Turk had lain for some time in front of our trench, and our men dared not go out to make him prisoner. The M.P., who spoke Turkish, essayed the task 3 arid 1 brought the man into our lines. ; The other day some of our men came upon a small skeleton beyond one of our trenches. The identification disc showed that the khaki uniform contained the mortal remains of a bugler of the Canterbury Regiment. He had been posted as - missing, . The remains were gathered together, arid the New Zealand soldiers gave him ri decent burial on the hills of Gallipoli, far away from his home and his native land. It was strange that this boy had not been discovered before, especially during the armistice. Poor lad, he he must have fell nobly in the front line during those critical days -when our men gained a footing; and hold their ground. . From another position we gam a glorious view across a bit of level land and a beautiful curving bay to Suvk Point. The sea is a deep blue. Imbros and Sanothrace lie not far across the water in the haze of a summer noon. Here, for the first time, our Maori friends havo come into the firing line. They look fit and well, and thendiscipline is good. At any moment now thoy may bo called upon to defend their lines or' to make an advance against I the enemy. The colonel in command is confident'that they will fulfil tho traditions of their race.