TOUR OF THE TRENCHES

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16123, 11 January 1916, Page 4

TOUR OF THE TRENCHES

LAST DAYS ON GALLIPOLI. ! FAMOUS SPOTS VISITED. j NEW ZEALANDERS AT WORK. An inspection of the trendies at the ■ Dardanelles in company with Colonel - Heaton Rhodes, M.P., is described by the I official New Zealand war correspondent, ] Mr. Malcolm Ross, vim wrote from the j Gallipoli Peninsula on November 7. lin j their arrival at Anzac they were taken ~-ff the torpedo-boat in which they tra- J veiled by a picket boat. Gun-fire had i been in progress, but late in the afternoon it ceases. We on our side are not satisfied, says Mr. Ross, and have already decided upon nn evening of " hate." We climb a little hill into an observation post, and watch the shooting on the Turkish trenches on C'hunuk Bair, which are within full view and easy distance. We sit there in the gathering dusk talking—the New Zealand Envoy, a New Zealand artillery officer (now a general), a New Zealand colonel (wounded and returned to the front), and the writer. The three officers were in the South African War, and they now meet in an artillery observation post on the Gallipoli Penisula in the greatest war of all the ages. The talk is all about war; it is grave and gay, for even in the heat of battle there have been amusing incidents, and the day when he fails to see the humorous as well as the tragic side of it will bo a bad day for the British soldier. "There's Dirty Dick coming in for his evening stunt," says the colonel, breaking in upon a conversation, and looking seaward we note a dull grey destroyer, stealing panther-like close inshore. For a second or two he flashes a brilliant electric eye in the semi-darknessprob-ably just a practice wink, or a signal that he is going to shootsteams round in a graceful curve until he is side on, slows down, stops dead, and then, bang! bang! a sharp report and a quick echo, a shell tearing overhead through the air, a burst of flame and sparks, with a dull clou! of earth and smoke on a Chunuk Bair trench, and the dull report of the bursting shell coming back across the hills and dale?. This is repeated again and again, until we get tired of watching and descend to our dug-outs. Stray Shots in the Night. Bv way of revenge, the enemy hurls a shell or two at Dirty Dick, who wheels round and steams slowly off along the coast unhit, a touch of scorn in the deliberation with which he moves away. j Then a Turkish 6in howitzer sends a shell hurtling into the valley where wo are camped, without hurting anyone. Soon afterwards ono of the 75'.-, captured by the Turks from the Servians in the la?t war, fires a couple, of smaller shells, but they also do no damage. We, go in to dinner, have quite a merry meal, a talk and a smoke, and then to bed. A few "strays'' come singing close overhead, and throughout the night, if you are not a sound sleeper, you will hear the intermittent crackle of rifle fire, and the loud, dull explosion of bombs, intimating that they are still awake in the trenches on the heights above. Wo were awakened in the early dawn by tie loud reports of ships' guns." Dirty Dick was at his work again, and i>o sooner had we finished breakfast than the morning hate began. The 6-inch howitzer and the "seventy-five" tried to stir us up again—and failed to do so. Some few of the staff came out of their sand-bagged walled and tarpaulin-roofed offices to see where the shells are falling; others go placidly on with their work.

Scenes at Anzac. j After breakfast, in company with the General, Colonel Rhodes started on an extensive round of the trenches, extending over several days. The first day's visit was to Anzac, up the ridge over which the New Zealanders swept on to Plugge's Plateau on the memorable 25th April. The old Turkish trenches and the. wooden crosses on the graves of some of the New Zealand Artillery are interesting reminders of the first days of the fighting. Thence our route lay via Shrapnel Gully and Mona-sh Valley to the celebrated Quinn's Post, past an Indian camp and a Little cemetery with small wooden crosses and shell-cases over the graves of officers and soldiers from many parts of the Empire. We halt where General Bridges received his mortal wound, at a spot, where shrapnel claimed many a victim. As wo proceeded up the valley a warning notice reads: "Danger! Keep to the Sap.'' Away on the heights to the right the intermittent " tat-tat-tat '." of a mountain-gun emphasises the warning. Bombing and Mining. At Quinn's we find they are still bombing and mining. Though, in mining warfare, the advantago is generally with the attackers, here our men have been too clever for the Turks, and we have more than held our own. The defences are J always being strengthened and improved, and though the Turks are only a few j feet away, they hate never been able, up to this day, to break through. The ground is simply honeycombed with trenches, saps, tunnels, and drives. In places where you proceed gingerly with the flickering hcht of a candle vou might imagine yourself in the catacombs. There are gruesome reminders that add to the illusion. From Quinn's we proceed to Tope's — now also greatly strengthened- looking ■a little anxiously at the opposite ridge over which we ha\o to proceed, because, just at the moment, it is being shrapnelled by some well-placed bursts from the Turkish guns. However, wo dive i down into a deep gully, holding on by j a lope, and thence cimb by Bully Beef I Track on to Walker's Ridge and Russell's loppoints named after two of our ' brigadiers. The shrapnel had failed to reach us, and we halted for lunch—with the flies—in an open trench. Ohunuk Bair. After describing further points of importance which were inspected, Mr. Rosa ' continues :—

A visit to the tire trenches on the forward slopes of Chunuk Bair and Rhodo- i dendron Spur is always interesting. As ! we walk up the narrow track at the j bottom of the winding " Dere " —often in i full view of the Turkish position on the summit and higher slopes of the Chunuk Bair Ridge we are in danger of being sniped; but our men are keeping the Turks down. And. in any case, it is a long range. At every turn of the valley . and every slope and ridge memories of the gallant deeds of our brave New Zealanders ' crowd in upon one. On the left of our path are the remains of the barbed wire entanglement demolished by the engineers and Maoris in that memorable night onslaught, when the Maoris and the Mounteds went in with the bayonet, not ' firing a single shot. It was here that Sapper K. YV. Watson, of the New Zealand Field Engineers, by splendid gal- ' lantry in the demolition «>f this entanglement, won his I).CM. He was wounded hv a Turkish bullet, but, notwithstanding that, he bravely helped a wounded officer , out of the tire zone into safety. Ju.-t a. ■ few yards away, zigzagine up the hill on the left, is the first Turkish trench stormed in the darkness. The cases of numberless Turkish cartridges still lie thick alone the. parapet, though many have been gathered ■ as souvenirs. * I Bauchop's Hill. i On the left is Bauchop's Hill, where the gallant Otago colonel after whom it was named fell, mortally wounded, after the heights had been won. For half-an-nour before the operations commenced I "yarned" with him at the mouth of' his dug-out— a low, narrow hole, in the hard sandy cliff—and was the last to sav good-bye to him as he buckled on his i

revolver and went out into the darkness to lead his men to victory. He was in a thoughtful mood, apparently . thinking .of those far away who were near and dear to him, but he had ever the same pleasant smile and the same cheery word for any of hi* men who passed that way. He seemed to know them all, and called them t>y their Christian names. There was no braver soldier, and non© more respected and loved hy these who stormed the ridge that night. Ho presented me with his stick and his dug-out. '* No man is anybody on the peninsula," he said, "who does not carry a stick." For some weeks during those strenuous- times his little unpretentious dug-out was my home, Next day I saw him in the clearing station, and when my name was mentioned the same pleasant smile of recognition played over his features. He could not speak, but he was cheery and brave to the end. In the dug-out just above Colonel Manders. our A.D.M.S-, was shot through the head while talking-to Major Holmes. He, also, was beloved by us all. In the words of one of our mess, " He was a sahib !"' "My Final Offering— We walked up the valley past the burying places of several of our men —- many of them nameless graves. On some were rude wooden crosses. One that we came upon in the first days of the fighting had now at its head a larger cross, on which was an inscription that stuck in the memory — Aged 28. C. HANLEON. 10th New Zealand Regiment, ''My final —Life." Erected by his Cousin. Down the winding sap at the next •bend, grievously injured and unconscious, borne along on a stretcher, came i one of the New Zealand Engineers, injured I by a falling boulder where he had been digging in the deep trenches on the apex. j Jhe path grew steeper till we came to a little colony of dug-outs, where the men I were endeavouring to make themselves ' comfortable for the winter. It is a little ; bit of dead ground now, comparatively j safe from bullets and shrapnel. In the ] first days of the forward fighting one trod ! the path with apprehension, but in spite ! of all the enemy could do in those trying j tunes in early August, our brave New Zeai landers "stuck it out" there. In the | early dawn of the first morning we saw ! them clustered there among the prickly ' ilex scrub and the arbutus. For four ; days they had little food and water—and ! the want of water in that terrible heat i was a sore trial! But each dawn found them still sticking there. We called it "the Mustard Plaster." The Front Fire Trenches. To the left of the little colony of dugouts we entered the front tire trenches, looked down on "the farm" and up at the Turkish trenches on the upper slopes of Chunuk Bair. dominating our position. The helmets and rifles and unburied bodies of British soldier, New Zealander, Gurkha, and Maori, were still to be seen. We , climbed steep stairs where bits of ammunition and provision boxes held the earth up: walked through deep trenches, where men were ever ready with rifle and bomb, and dived into dark tunnels and cave dwellings. We peered out of narrow iron ■loopholes, and finally, from the "Apex" j and " the Pinnacle," looked out upon 1 other trenches, and upon the most glorii ous view attainable from anv of our positions. . | On the hill above us, onlv some 400 yds j or 500 yds away, is the trench where the | New Zealanders reached the crest of Chunuk Bair. Here Major H. Statham and his brother were killed in action !by a shrapnel shell, while talking to each ' other in the shallow trench. Major 1 Statham had displayed great gallantry ! in leading every charge on the successive j positions captured by the Otago Battalion jon Aujrust 6 and 7." He was most highlv < thought of by his men. and had proved himself a capable and gallant soldier. If the Positions were "Reversed. The .deletion of a line in the English, and possibly also of the colonial war correspondents' reports, makes it appear as if the New Zealanders had won and lost this position. It is only fair to state that it was not the New Zealanders who were driven from the position, though .whttber or not they could have held it without fresh reinforcements must now remain for all time a matter of uncertainty. As it is, our present position is only 300 ft or 400 ft below the point gained in early August, but that 500 ft or 400 ft makes all the difference. With the position reversed—the Turks in our trenches and our men on the heightswe should long ere this have done what Liman "Pasha theatened, but failed to accomplish. We should have broken through and driven the enemy into the sea. But. after their past experience in attacking the colonial troops, the Turks are, for the time being at all events, not at all keen on attempting a further advance.