A GALLENT SCOUT.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 1474, 18 November 1915, Page 2

A GALLENT SCOUT.

The Wellington Post’s London correspondent in an interview with the gallant Captain Wallingford, whose doings with our boys at Gallipoli with the machine guns will be handed down to history! and who is now on leave in England with a strained heart, relates the following, which is of local interest by reason of the fact that it tells us of the bravery of the Rev. Father Dore “ One of the finest of all the fine men who passed through the dangerous apprenticeship of the machine guns was the scout Warden. A native of New South Wales, Warden was in Fiji when the war broke out, and although in the reserve of officers of Australia he went to Samoa as a private in the New Zealand Contingent, and afterwards joined the Main Body in New Zealand. A splendid figure physically, he did not know what fear was, and he proved to be the finest scout imaginable. He it was who was told to guide the British battalions to their position on our left on the morning of the great landing at Suvla Bay, and in spite of anything said to the coutary he did guide them there and pointed out their ground before he rejoined Captain Wallingford's section. That was a desperate day for the machine guns. No sooner had the Wellingtons- under their fearless colonel (Malone) crowned the ridge, where they could plainly be seen against the skyline in the breaking dawn, than the four best gun teams were rushed forward to their assistance, Only two got there, and they were not complete, so the two guns were put together and worked as one. What happened to the others uo one knew, Later in the day they were reinforced. It was a deadly corner, enfiladed and battered from all sides, and one after another the guns were knocked out and the crews killed or injured. The bravest of all were the Maori team, all of whom were laid out. It was in that day’s fighting that Warden met his death, and for some time it was impossible to recover the body or to bury it. Finally, in a half-starlit night, the gallant Father Dore, whose name is in every mouth, with Captain Wallingford and some volunteers from the gun team nearest, crept out and furtively dug a grave, and with the simplest service the finest of scouts was laid to rest. “ Seven guns in all were sent to the top of Chunuk Bair, where the Wellingtons had more than held ther own against odds. After thirty-six hours in the new trench they were relieved, and a British battalion, the Royal North Lancs, it is believed, took their place. Seven New Zealand machine guns remained with them in garrison. During the day following it became known that the whole post had been wiped out. It simply disappeared mysteriously, something like lorty of the Lanca-" shires getting back to the main body.