EXIT GALLIPOLI.

Gisborne Times, Volume XLVII, Issue 4207, 5 April 1916, Page 5

EXIT GALLIPOLI.

LEAVING THE APEX

HOW THE NEW ZEALANDERS GOT AWAY.

(From Malcolm Ross, Official War

! Correspondent with the N.Z. Forces.) i The evacuation of the New Zealand;

Infantry Brigade was spread over some ten days. To begin with, the Otago Infantry Battalion, which was in reserve, together with all the sick and feeble from the other battalions,

was assembled under cover of dai'lc-

ness and shipped off from Walker’s Pier, presumably to a rest camp at ImbroA They found themselves next morning at Mudros! * The getting away or the guns was a very clever hit of work. Half the guns and half the personnel of all the New Zealand batteries disappeared m a night, if you had listened intently in your dug-out just behind the old No. 2 Outpost von might have heard nineteen guns rumbling past in the darkness. Next day, if you were strolling down to Anzac, you would have seen them all “parked” under the ridge near the pier. The next day all the other guns were turned on to Russell’s Top,, and were fired at twice their usual speed, to make the enemy believe that we still had all our guns in position, and that we still meant business. J. watched the operation with the General from a convenient observation post. It was rather an amusing “stunt,” because one half-battery that had. been turned on had never registered on those trenches, and its shells kept dropping into the ilex bushes at the head of a little gully, where there was neither trench nor soldier. The Turk must have thought that for once British gunnery imagination was playing itseif a. trick. Another gun shot dangerously near our own position; hut many of the shells burst magnificently, right in the Turkish trenches, smashing the works, and filling the air with smoke and debris. Shells tnat were before hoarded as being worth their weight in gold were now, like Dukes in Gilbert’s libretto, “two a penny.” So the gunners hanged them in for all they were worth. It gave one cause for thought of all that might have been.

Meantime our aeroplanes had spotted the enemy making concrete emplacements for the big German and Austrian howitzer batteries that had come down through Servia and Bulgaria. Great teams of oxen had been used to drag them across the rough Gallipoli country. They had arrived a day too late for the fair. Ono can imagine the chagrin of the German gunners when they found the birds had flown, and that all the strenuous labor connected with their Herculean task was in vain. At the very last they did get- a few shots in, but to this day these guns remain innocent of the death of a single Auzac soldier ! Sunday, the 12th December, was rather a quiet day ; church was held as usual in the open air. The impending departure seemed to add solemnity to the words of the lesson and to the singitjg of the hymns. To the closing National Anthem there was added a new fervour.

God save our gracious King Send him victorious. Happy and glorious. Long to reign over us, God save our King»

One listened with pent-up feelings to the voices of these war-worn soldiers from the Antipodes raised in the grand anthem, borne m on the breeze across the hills and aales of Gallipoli for the last time.

During the day two field ambulances got. orders to pack up and get ready “for the Rest Camp.” The Rest Camp was becoming rather a joke. We asked the Artillery Briga-dier-General when he was sending his next lot of guns into the rest camp. The question produced only an inscrutable smile from the General. A sarcastic remark that his guns were so tired that they need a rest was not any more successful in producing an answer. But, as Harry Lauder says, we knew; and lie knew that we knew. It is too long a story to toll in detail, but every New Zealand gun was gotoff. A team of horses was left behind to gallop the last gun in on the last night when darkness had made effective shooting no longer possible. Even the horses, which we reckoned upon killing, were got off.

On the Monday, some members of the Battery, who had been ordered to leave for the Rest Camp, c-ame in to say they did not want to go. They would rather remain on the Peninsula. In the afternoon, after some shelling. I went round the deserted hospital, which had been the scene of memorable and stirring though sad incidents. The empty bivouacs stared at one like socketless eyes. Tho deserted tents, with their litter of odds and end and their sides flapping idly in the wind, seemed strangely forlorn.

One imagiuod them peopled only with the ghosts of the dead. From under that flapping canvas many a brave and sorely-stricken man had set out on his final journey—that journey that leads him down the last sap into the Beautiful Kingdom whore there are no trenches and where all is peace.

The Turkish artillery in our immediate zone, was now wonderfully quiet. We could see a few shells bursting over the Suvla position, and a small Turkish gnu was spraying the “Dere” and the little Hat just below Headquarters with shrapnel that huft nobody. On the path in front of my dug-out a man was hit on the chin with a spent bullet. Tho wound bled profusely, but did not appear to be serious. That evening there were comfortable dug-outs around us “to let.” 1 slipped info one that had an iron roof and pictures on the walls. Units and details for embarkation were assembled in the dark on the little Hat near the deserted hospital, and, after long waiting, marched off. Tho. Otngos, some of the Maoris, and a few Aucklanders spent nearly all the night in the sap—a slow column creeping along, inch by inch, yard by yard. like a wounded worm—v«t failed to gain their objective. We had only one motor-barge and one waterbarge—the former holding 400 troops and the latter 200—with which to carry out the embarkation. Tho men were packed like matches in a box, one man breathing Into the next man’s face or down the hack of his neck according to the way in which he was packed. Out in the offing were some dim, blurred shapes which we took to he ships. The barges went and came, gorging ail'd disgorging, till dawn threatened, and all work was stopped. Then the blurred, formless shapes, suddenly faded into the outer darkness. Secretly and by stealth they had stolen away on their journey. Before dawn they had disappeared completely from the face of the waters. But next night, and on each of the succeeding nights, tho blurred

shapes were hack in the same plapo, awaiting their cargoes of khaki. In time there were left only the fit lighting men of the remaining throe battalions—Canterbury, Wellington, and Auckland—holding the Apex, Cheshire Ridge to the left, arid a hit of the ridge on the right. The strength, roughly, amounted to 1400 all told, with fifteen machine guns. About sevep. days before the event; the commanding officers ware informed approximately of the (Ilite of the evacuation. They were not told what were the last two ni gilts, bn 1 were told to be ready. All officers’ kit and other impedimenta had to Ixr sent down to the beach on the off-chance of its being evacuated. Everything went well, and on the Wednesday the officers were informed that the last two days would he the following Saturday and Sunday. But none could he sure even of -this. Jupiter Pluyius in the skies, the British Navy on the seas, anti tin* Turk on Lite land—each and all might yet Lake a hand in the game, and at any moment there might he a halt or a breakdown. “Beachv Bill” had been firing all night, evidently searching for tje» jetties at Walker’s Ridge and not finding them. He fired each time fourshots at hall-hour intervals throughout- the night. On the Wednesday there was half a gale that prevented anything approaching or leaving the shore. The suspense grew. Had we only been able to take advantage of those fireceding calm five days! Were v-e about to b<> threatened with another storm - Would the Turks attack now? With these and similar questions cur minds became obsessed Would the furies come howling at our heels, or would Obcron take us gently by the hand and lead u:s quietly and safely away? Thru l alone would tellMcar.time “ihe wireless” was buzzing in cur cars the news of the war—telling us how they bad gained a yard at Harfcrnannswielerkopf, or how tho enemy were dislodged from a, crater by a counter-attack in the region of Ville-sur-Tourbe or some other place. It was always the same old story. Parenthetically it also asked where and how Bill Jones had died ! It was busy with matters of big impart widen of course were in code ami with matters of small import which were, not. Jt even began zzz-ing out something about oursi Ives. There was -'nothing new” in Gallipoli. Great Heavens) Nothing new in Gallipoli! That wan all they knew about it, and which was just as well. Towards the close £'6o4 worth of stores that our Artillery had paid for with their own hard cash, and which they had been anxiously awaiting for weeks, arrived. That was rx bitter blow. Many others suffered it the same way. Good whisky, formerly almost priceless became a drug in the market. Cabbages and potatoes rotted where they lay. And now w-.. had craved for those luxuries in the days of the pre-adamite army biscuit and the resilient bully beef. Yet norm grumbled. The one simply laughed at the other’s misfortune. It was all hi the day’s work. By this time the minutest details of the evacuation had been worked out with singular clarity and comprehension. All notices or *>mde marks likely to be of use to the enemy were t ■ he destroyed on the second day. After tho first, day the Division: I Comniander removed to Anzac and assumed command of the Army Corps Rearguard, three thousand strong. Thirty ambulance personnel from tho whole corps were to he' left with the brigades to assist regimental medical officers, but no attempt was to be made to get off large numbers of wounded on the second day. An engineer, who. by the way. went with us to Samoa, was to see to tho erection of a r-heval de frise of barlied wire in one of the aeres at the very last to block the oncoming Turk, should he come on. The troop? were to embark with 150 rounds of ammunition and two “iron” rations. G > the final night they were not to be hampered with kits, blankets, or even waterproof sheets. They were t-:« carry only great-coats and pac-k, with, of course, their rifles and ammunition. These and a hundred other details had been thought out and attended to. And all the time the watchword wax “Normality.” In the trenches car-' was taken to display the usual number of periscopes, especially on tho day of the final night. Men were even sent to walk up and down the “deres.” Fires were kept burning amongst the deserted bivouacs.