HOW THE “ENTENTE” CAME ABOUT.

Otago Witness, Issue 3197, 23 June 1915, Page 71

HOW THE “ENTENTE” CAME ABOUT.

SOME PERSONA!/ REMINISCENCES

By Sir Thomas Barclay. Scotsmen have Tendered many services to France, but it is doubtful whether any has been of greater value to our brave ally than the “Entente Cordiale,” established after many years of persistent effort by Sir Thomas Barclay. It was in 1876 that Thomas Barclay went to Paris as representative of The Times, a poet he resigned in 1882 to devote himself entirely to French law practice. To-day he is an acknowledged authority on International Law, and contributed the articles on this subject in the “Encyclopedia of the Law of England ” and the “ Encyclopaedia Bntannica.” Readers will peruse with interest this article by the man who is proud to be known as “The Father of the Entente.”

How did it come about? When I look back over 30 years I sometimes myself wonder bow it came about. Anyhow', it took 30 years of patience and “ doggedness ” to bring it off. In 1876, when I first went to Paris, the French were still idolising the great- ■ est statesman they have produced in our time —Leon Gambetta. Gambetta, after having been 'the genius of French resistance hi. 1870-71—the man who, after all the regular forces of France had been either killed off, wounded, or captured, squeezed, as it were, armies out. of the apparently exhausted shell of a defeated peopde —became, amid all the hatred and humiliation succeeding defeat, the soul of reaction against war. He had seen its folly. Napoleon 111, not France, was to blame. I remember the outbreak of the war. I was at Dunkirk (a boy of 16) at the time. Two years before I had been a pmpil of the famous old College Jean Bart, and I was now making my first independent trip abroad, feeling as free as a lark and as joyous. War Consternation. — In the middle of my trip, like* a bomb from the clouds, came the declaration of war against Germany. Well, I remember the anger of my friends who had just made their plans for autumn holidays, and who were already sick of Napoleonic glory and perpetual fighting. There was no rejoicing. To liven up the civilians, troops were sent into the streets to shout “ a Berlin.” Half of them were tipsy, and there was little or no response from the crowd—nothing but consternation at the awful news. Gambetta had seen all this, and had been too close to the national suffering to wish to see it again. If ever there was a man genuinely won over to peace, it was he. He, too, it was who afterwards advised his countrymen that, whilst they should never cease to think of the loss of Alsace-Lorraine, they should avoid speaking of it. Not to speak : of it was not to provoke the suspicion or anxiety of France’s powerful neighbour, and' not to rouse the sleeping dog was not to expose his country to a renewal of the horrors of 1870-71. Gambetta and England.— For England and Englishmen Gambetta had an intense admiration, and I have quoted in my “Reminiscences” a passage on this subject from the last great speech I heard him deliver. I still hear the rich, magnetic voice, and remember th grave modulation of his words, his noble prophetic gesture. The subject was ' Anglo-French co-opsration in Egypt. He said: When I behold Europe, this Europe which has bullied so largely today in the speeches delivered from this tribune, I observe that for 10 years there has always been a Western jiolicy represented by Prance and England. And allow pie to say that I do not know of any other European policy capable of helping us in the direst emergencies which may arise.” He added with a prescience which is almost startling; “And what I say to you to-day I say with a deep sense of a vision of the future.” Gambetta’s vision has been realised. The direst emergency has arisen; the policy represented by France and England, that of resistance to the aggression of a military Power of overwhelming magnitude, has prevailed, and every Frenchman will admit Gambetta 'foresaw it, and will thank God that ■England and France were side by side when at length it came. The Unfriendly Spirit.— Among those whom Gambetta’s wmrds impressed and who, with something like his own conviction, were determined never to leave a stone unturned to bring England and France nearer to the realisation of Gambetta’s vision, was o young correspondent of The Times in Paris—myself. Through the British Chamber of Commerce in Paris, of which this young man in 1882 became hon. secretary, he strove to preserve and improve the trade relations between the two countries. He thought the renewal of the Treaty of Commerce between them would be the means of bringing about a common Western policy of peace, social development, and trade expansion, the only policy which . can bring intelligent enjoyment and prosperity to nations. Owing to the short-sighted political aims of the successive statesmen -who conducted the machine of State after Gam- - betta’& fall and death, new ambitions * brought England and France into conflict, and It was only after Lord Dufferin came to be regarded as a friend by France that an attempt 'was made, at his suggestion, to adjust all the outstanding difficulties on give-and-take principles. Detailed negotiations followed. Th© spirit of the two peoples, however, was not friendly enough, or, at any rate, the friendly spirit there was among them was not widespread enough for the Government of either country to “ give,” however ready it might be to “take.” The negotiations came to naught. Nor has their result ever been divulged

The Scot in France. — It was then that I came upon the scene as a direct agent in the cultivation of a new feeling between the two nations. I am a Scotsman, is ow, it is a. fact, and I say so without any of that spirit of brag which many North Countrymen affect but don’t really feel, about the superiority in every conceivable branch of British activity of the Scot, that a sort of romantic interest in and friendliness for Scotland and the Scotch has spread throughout the wide world. The Scot is supposed to have none of the English coldness, selfishness, brutality, etc. He is always the “kindly Scot.” In France his pride and hospitality are proverbial. Fier comme un ecossais is a popular way of saying that a man is above .anything mean; and line hospitalite ecosaaise is the current expression for the highest level to which hospitality can attain. Even in the worst days of anti-English feeling in France, there was always a reservation for the benefit of Scotland. Scotsman as 1 am to the bone, England, however, stands out in the glory of the world’s achievement as the greatest name in history after Rome. Still, I had to humour prejudices, and for that purpose, of course, had to begin with Scotland. I have Quoted Shakespeare’s adage ad nauseam, and spare the reader its repetition. Fashcda!— One warm June evening in 1893 or 1894 Lord Dufferin after dinner took me into a corner and told me how favourable he was to my scheme of founding a Franco-Scottish Society. Another curious by the by, _ about Scotsmen is that they don’t consider it necessary to be born in Scotland to be reckoned as such. The Blackwoods, generations ago, came from my city of Dunfermline, and Lord Dufferin, like Andrew Carnegie, Lord Shaw, and myself, loved the old grey town of his ancestor as if he had been born there. So we planned the Franco-Scottish Society to some extent together. It was successful, and we began our FrancoScottish Entente with phenomenal brilliancy. Alas! it was not to last. The politicians again started mischief-making, and we had the Fashoda incident just on the eve of a third great Franco-Scottish manifestation. It wrecked everything for the time being. Nobody who has a life task to perform should ever lose confidence. New chances will always come to him'.who has the patience to wait and watch for them. The great Universal Exhibition was to be opened in 1900. I had been elected president of the British Chamber of Commerce for 1899, and had every reason to expect that I should bo re-elected in 1900. There was no time to be lost. In conjunction with Mr (now Sir) Edward Fithian, the then secretary of the Association of the Chambers of Commerce of the United Kingdom, I planned an invitation to the association to hold their autumn meeting during the Exhibition in Paris. To cut short a story I have told elsewhere with some fullness, that meeting was held, and although the Boer "war had made England more unnopular in France than ever, the fact of £OO or 600 j'mglishmen representing every industry, trade, and district in the country having had enough confidence in the common sense and generosity of the French to come boldlv over the Channel and offer them the hand of friendship had the desired effect. It was the second great move ! towards the Entente. Burying the Hatchet.— The third step was mine alone. It took place the following year. . In April, 1901, I launched the audacious idea of a deliberate and intentional entente at a now historic meeting, and then began the agitation in which I played the part of leader, and which culminated in the autumn of 1903 and April, 1904, in the signing of the treaties which buried the hatchet between the two nations for the past and instituted arbitration os the method of adjustment of differences for the future. That is how the “Entente Cordiale” came about. It was never intended either by the late King or by Lord Lansdowne or by M. Paul Gambon, or even by M. Delcasse, or by any of those who supported the movement, to be anti-German. Nor was it, at the time when the treaties were signed, so regarded in Germany. If it has worked out in later years as having potentialities for common defence against aggression, this only shows the more how necessary it was. Though some people have blamed me for the part I played in bringing it about, the va c t majority, I feel sure, regard the AngloFrench Entente as having saved Europe from the loss of all that makes contemporary Frenchmen and Englishmen alike proud of their generation. FISHING FOR MINES. THE TRAWLERS’ FEARSOME QUEST. Wo hear of trades “adapted” in wartime—of the upholsterer turning to bandoliers and harness, of the manufacturing jeweller producing badges or buttons, or cartridge cases. But what can equal the -East Coast fisherman —the Grimsby and Yarmouth trawler —fishing for submarine mines in the classic Helespont, that waterway of legend and mystery which old Homer sang and Leander swam to meet his priestess of love? Have you any idea of the magnitude of our home fisheries or of the army it employs ? Over 1 100,000 men each year land 14.000,000 cwt of fish, worth about £8,000.000. Of this huge harvest, quite 80 per cent, comes from the North Sea, which in normal time is dotted with regular floating towns of smacks and steam trawlers. In this grey waste are whole cities of daring, hardy men, with streets made up of rolling vessels, each one a unit in a large fleet—never anchored, never all at home from sea at one and the same time. —Fortunes in Fish.— The fleet, presided over by a veteran

“admiral'’ of uncanny flair for the ways of fish, gives his orders by rockets at night and flags by day. At one time he’s off the coast of Holland, at another on the famous Dogger Bank. Or, again, close up to the Norway shore —always following his -prey, and with floating hospitals attending him (each worth £12,000) to receive and care for casualties, which are severe and frequent in this wild and dangerous life. But fortunes are made in it, even by “single-boaters”—those free-lances of the sea who pack their own catch in ice and race back after a lucky haul. The little Quail came into Grimsby not long ago with £2OOO of fish ; the Jamacar landed £ISOO worth of plaice at the same port. But, as every housewife knows, fish is scarce and dear, owing to Germany’s monstrous violation of the very elementsof civilised war, which turned the North Sea into one vast minefield, and struck terror to the fishing fleets—the Great Northern, the Gamecock, and Red Cross. —The Fatal Mines.— For the first time whole fleets withdrew from their trawling— grounds. Steamdrifters and single-boaters laid up in harbour, and the masters read of tragedies day by day. “Just before dark,” reports a Lowestoft skipper, “our nets were fouled with mines. One of them exploded near us, and blew our nets out of the water, spreading sheets of dead herring on the sea.”

The trawler Windsor, of Grimsby, was completely smashed bv a German mine, jammed in her gear between the trawlboard ancT the, ship’s side. The winch was stopped, and it was seen that one of the detonators of the mine was actually resting on the rail! It was impossible to cut the horrible thing away, and each mil of the boat threatened to explode it. To cut the story short, the mine did explode, stunning the crew and blowing the trawler to pie es. Yet Skipper Harrison and his -crew escaped in their boat, and after being adrift 24 hours their sister ship Bernicia picked them up and brought them safely into Grimsby. The North Sea was indeed alive with mines. Dutch masters saw whole batches of them floating, and caught others in their nets, as well ns corpses, both naked and fully dressed. A Dutch lugger, trying to clear her trawl of a mine, exploded it with disastrous effects. Skipper and mate were hurled overboard and drowned. Several of the crew were badly hurt, and their craft so damaged that she could only make Lowestoft with the greatest disunity. Then mines drifted ashore and often exploded there—as at Heyst, where three children were playing and were killed outright. No wonder fishing was paralysed. Then war broke out —and the Konigen Lube was sowing mines before our declaration —700 steam drifters were at work in’ Shetland waters. These fell idle, and with them 8000 men and boys, to say nothing of shore fisher-girls and other hands. —The Admiralty’s Call.— All the ports suffered severely. Yarmouth’s hearing record of last year — 824,313 cranr —dwindled to 177,430. Aberdeen IoM £149,000. Grimsby reported short trips and slight catches; the Scottish centres put their fishing losses at £2,000,009. Then came the Admiralty’s dramatic call to these grand men. The trawler was soon transformed. She was now “His Majesty’s Ship” with a naval officer in charge, her skippers nosing cautiously impairs for sunken German mines, and torpedo boats at hand to deal with those deadly engines when they came gleaming awash in the trawl. ■ .Grimsby alone was drawn upon for 300 bnat-=. Hull contributed 160, and so on till the fishermen were almost all emploved in the most fearsome quest that ever fell to the lot of a peaceful industry. Hero let me emphasise the value of these men to our navy and the nation in this great emergency. They know the North Sea as the taxiraan knows the London streets. The vast waste is parcelled out and named —the Great Fisher Bank, Broad Fourteens, Brucey’s Garden, and the Silver Pit.

So the mine-sweeping fisherman brings to this deadly business an expert knowledge which none can match. Thanks to him, passages are cleared for our overseas trade. Thanks to him also, devilish craft is thwarted, and the engines of it brushed aside, to the salvation of our warships and our naval men. The fisher knows the sea-floor and the depths Avith which he has to deal. Each trick of the tide, too, and each A’agarv of the trarvl, Avhose cable he tests from time to time Avith seeking, sensitive hand that seems to posess a sixth sense. —The Method of Working.— The boats Avork in pairs, Avith hundreds of yards of steel wire swaying between them. These cables are so Aveighted that they drag at a depth of 16ft or Iflft—sav Avhere the vitals of a battleship lie; her engine rooms, magazines, and coal hunkers. Should a mine explode at a shalloAver depth than this its victim, although badly damaged, may yet escape complete destruction. Perhaps for daA T s the partners dance OA'cr the main, labouring all nigbt and catching nothing. The life is dull, for expectancy cannot be indefinitely, prolonged, and the North Sea fisherman is by no means “highly strung.” There’s no gear to haul, no catch to clean and pack two or three times a daw Noav and then a A r ast shadow passes in the haze—a Dreadnought of the Grand Fleet or a battle-cruiser. Time and again the skipper’s horny hand runs along the trawl-Avarp that stretches gleaming into the sea, and rhea beyond as a dripping thread to the other boat. Submarine mines, as all know, are steel spheres filled Avith 2001 b or 30011 a of *“ trinitro-tuloul.” the nerv German explosive which is also used in the Avarheacls of their torpedoes. The mine goes off hv impact. The shock of striking it explodes a detonator, which in turn sets off the whole charge with truly terrific

result. Mines, are anchored to the bottom so as to float at any desired depth. And their cable is at length caught and cut by the trawl-warp. “Easy All.”— The “old man” is aware of a catch the moment the mine-mooring is engaged. “Easy all!” he roars, and his partner is all attention. Here at last is a channel sown with invisible death! Never is the anchored mine found alone, for the ship that sows these awful seeds drops them astern in regular patterns, often linking two mines so that pressure on the crosswire will explode them both and destroy the greatest vessel. Now the boats slow down and steam apart still more widely. The cable be.tween them tautens, and slowly, fitfully the mine gleams awash in the heave and foam of the sea. The attendant torpedoboat has already been warned by a blast on the siren, and now races up at railroad speed between walls of greenish water. Meanwhile the mine is floating—a mere speck of destruction in the glimmering waste.

The low, black warship cuts a gleaming arc as she swings about for action. The trawlers back away and watch bluejackets train a light gun upon the bobbing sphere. There’s a sharp bark —a puff of smoke in the steel bow, and simultaneously a dull hoarse 'roar. The whole sea seems to lift in vengeful blackness mast-high, with mud and bottom debris. A moment’s pause, and the dark wall of water subsides with terrific fury, churning and seething into vortices of madly-swinging foam. The mine is dead! Hundreds of trawlers and thousands of men are now engaged for this work by the Admiralty—at high pay and with special provision for widows and families in case of disaster. Accidents are rare, thanks to the men’s astonishing skill; but it would be idle to deny that now and then it is the trawler’s bow and not her steel cable which strikes the hidden danger. And then a dozen men are blown to certain death. “ I saw a flash,” said a skipper partner, “ and the ship lifted clean out of the water. Down went masts and funnel. All those lads were blown to atoms —not a trace of ’em ever seen again!” —ln the Dardanelles.— These are the men who now sweep the Dardanelles—that classic lane of water which has lured admirals, from fabled Jason to Alexander the vrreat. Picture the scene—say, by night with stormy water ablaze with searchlights from the Turkish forts, and huge warships, that cover the cautious operations of their tiny sisters. From the rEgan to the Black Sea mines are to be feared, with a special danger-zone of seven miles between Nagara Point and Chanak, the only important village on the straits. How real the danger is may be judged from the fact that we have already lost huge battleships through these anchored mines, or mines drifting in shoals down with the racing tide. In daylight the fishermen fire at floating mines with rifles, and explode great numbers of them. Any sort of shock will set off the high explosive in these deadly globes. Sometimes one goes up the moment the trawl-warp breaks its mooring. The mine heels over, and before the two skippers are aware of it, the water’s rise in thunder, while the brave little boats rock and shiver in every plank and holt with the enormous concussion.

Our mine-sAA'eepers are proud of their Avork as pioneers clearing a path for Britain’s armed might, both in the North Sea and the Dardanelles —that highway to Constantinople upon which so much depends in the great Avar. “ Yes,” said one of the skippers to the writer, “ it’s risky enough; but the pay’s good, and all the Avinter the Admiralty was a father to us.” “ Ay, an’ Princess Louis o’ Batternberg AA f as our mother,” added his mate. He told how this great lady sent out comforts for the mine-sweepers of the North Sea—jerseys and mitts, tobacco, newspapers, and medical stores. “ Minute we grab one,” the skipper pursued, “ we feel w' 've dug up another enemy of England. So these mines are AA’orth-Avhile fish — eh, Tom?” — W. G. FitzGerald in the Scotsman. SENSATIONS UNDER FIRE. AUSTRALIAN OFFICER’S LETTER. Lieutenant E. E. Spargo. of Melbourne, avlio, in the early stages of the fighting in Gallipoli, Avas wounded, wrote the following letter from the Ras cl Tin Hospital, Alexandria, on May 6 to Mr C. fc. Price, of Marriap road, Middle Brighton: This is really the first opportunity 1 have had to Avrite 'to you since our memorable storming of Gaba Tcpe on Sunday, April 25. After a beautiful night’s steam wo arrived just as dawn was breaking, and anchored about half a mile from the shore. The plan of action you will know ere this, I suppose, but I may remind you that a combined operation by the 1' rench, British, Indian, and Australasian troops, in conjunction Avith the navy,' was planned. Our special idee. Avas to land at a place called GabaTopc, and, dri\ T ing the Turks back, to hold that line, and gradually link up our right flank with the British left flank, south of us. Thus, the New Zealand-Australian Army Corps was to bear the left, of the avliolc operation, and the 2nd Infantry Brigade Avas responsible for the left flank. Gaba Tcpe is a small cape about 15 miles from Cape Hellos, in the south, and the Dardanelles are about seven miles across the peninsula at this point. On Gaba Tcpe tlroro was a lookout station, and 700 yards north of this there is a fisherman’s hut. This is Avhere avo Avcre to land. • On this portion of the foreshore the cliffs rise precipitously almost immediately from highwater mark. Those sandy bluffs are exceedingly difficult to climb, and should bo easily defended. In fact, it looked the worstpart of the AA’holc coast to attack. You could -imagine the Turkish staff saying, “Well, they may attack anywhere, but this ia the meet unlikely place.” Just a few hundred yards north the beach is sandy and the country low, and an ideal place for landing. Thus thought the Turks, for they

( here had wire entanglements under the water, and the shore mined. The Third Brigade landed just before dawn, and just as dawn was breaking they were discovered by the Turks, who opened a fire on them from the shore. FIRST RIDGE CLEARED. But our men sprang out, and, fixing bayonets, charged trench after trench, and within 15 minutes had cleared at the point of the bayonet the first ridge, and continued their advance. Dr.vn was now breaking, or had broken, and the guns on shore, from Gaba Tepe, opened on the boats travelling from the chips to the beach. This, of course, was cur warships’ opportunity. Immediately those Turkish batteries commenced our ships picked them up, and in a few minutes we had tho range, and presented the gunners on shore with a few shells, which immediately either destroyed the guns or cl so caused them to be shifted. At any rate, tho firing from this quarter ceased. But soon their firing recommenced, and wo on the had our first taste of the sensation of having enemy’s sheila whistling i overhead. Every man of us waa pale. I tell-you that it is cp.iite a funny feeling; but, looking round, smiles began to reappear, and then our lads commenced to pinch themselves to make sure they were really under fire. They had been disnppo'nted so often that now they could hardly believe they had the real thing, i heard one man say, “Saida tho dinkum oil at last ; no more furpheys”; and that waa tho feeling all round. THIRD BRIGADE LANDS. The Third Brigade had commenced their landing before dawn, and two companies of each battalion—9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th —were on shore, and ICO yards from the beach at dawn. They had had to scramble up, digging footholds, aided by the engineers, under lire, ana were not io return the fire till dawn. Then the remainder of the brigade landed, just as the guns from the shore and ships commenced to bark. With a cheer that wo heard on tho ships they started, and in no time the Turks '-started, too. In one small trench 150 Turks were bayoneted, and along tho whole Trout they were driven out. Iho landing of the 2nd Brigade was to commence half an hour after that of tho Third. On the we had the 6th and 7th, less one company; but at the appointed time to commence the navy tow had not arrived alongside, so ships’ boats were launched, and the first company of the 7th started to row ashore. It was fine to look over at these fellows, some of them so youthful, almost so babyish, in appearance, that in the ordinary course of events they would bo still tied to their mothers’ apron strings, smiling and laughing as though they were oil to a picnic. These boats, before they reached tho shore, came under the (ire cf machine guns. In one boat one officer (Mr Heighway), who is now in this ward, and seven men were wounded. Four others were killed. In the other two boats fewer men wore hit. Some of the men who were rowing wore hit, but continued to row till the shore was reached. By this time the navy tows had started at (he , and disembarkation was carried out as rapidly as possible. The 7th went first, then the 6th, and at 8 a.m. the last boat had left. AMMUNITION RUNS- SHORT. Unfortunately, I had- charge of (hoses in the last boat, and just as were were getting off a, naval officer came alongside and said they 'were running short of ammunition on shore, so I had to take 30,000 rounds. This, of course, delayed us, and when we did reach tho shore my battalion bad gone, and so I had to set off to find than. Of course, I knew by the panp where they were to be found, and, as they were to bo supports to the remainder of the brigade, there was no hurry. Wo had to land in water up to our waists, but, the sea being as smooth as glass, this was no inconvenience. On shore all was busy. Companies, battalions, brigades were landing how and where they could. So, of course, coordination and co-operation between troopa of a unit were almost impossible. Just as we landed I saw our first dead, though we had had a number of wounded brought on board ere wo had left. One of these was a sailor, who had been shot in the boat. We were fortunate in our boat, as the rifle fire had almost ceased, and one bullet only came into tho boat through the side, and into a man’s water-bottle, doins* very little damage beside boring tho boal and wasting the water, whicli couldn’t ba spared. On reaching the position on tha map where the 6th and B.H.A. were to be, I found that the battalion, instead of being in support, had gone straight into the firing line, and the 6th, which was apparently late, was now in support, but was just going forward to reinforce. We were climbing up hill, into valleys, up again, through tangled undergrowth and low scrub, almost 'too, steep in places to climb, and where wo’ could advance only in single file. The bullets which were meant for our firing line ■were now zip-zip-ing over the hill on to ns, but doing no damage. I took my platoon just over the ridge, extended, and caim into the firing-line, on the right cf the 6th and the left of the sth, up-with tho 12th, who, I said before, wore tho covering party. And now it was hell to the north. WHAT IT FEELS LIKE. What does it feci like? Imagine what a beehive sounds like wdicn disturbed—buzz, buzz, and zip, zip, and ping, ping. But it is marvellous how used one gets to fire. W e soon learn that the bullet wo hear does not matter, as it has passed. Wo were now on a plateau in. long grass, and, though wo could not see our enemy except at long range, he was firing at us with rifles, machine guns, and with shrapnel firo. For nearly two hours we were lying here; now a few men would up and rush a few yards, then one or two would attempt to get ahead. Then, crawling and creeping, we still struggled to get- near enough to use tho bayonet. Every time more men came up to us, or any of us got up to run forward, it was the signal for a burst of bullets. All this time, too, shells were bursting over us and in rear. At one time four men and I had been lying in the one place for a considerable time unable to move, the fire ceased momentarily, and we up and dashed on about 10 yards. Wo were no sooner down than a shell burst just where,we had been lying, and made a hole big enough to bury a small horse. 1 think we all looked at each other with a sickly sort of grin. Our line was very thick hero; but our casualties were awful Every few yards there was a dead or wounded man. Still, thero wasn’t the slightest sign of anyone wanting to got back. Some were as cool and nonchalant as possible. One follow a yard or two from me said: “Well, the arc not going to do me out of my lunch,”

and commenced to munch a biscuit. A man rjg-ht next to me had a bullet through the peak of his cup. The bullet came downwards and buried itself in the earth right under his chin. Another follow on the other eidtb got one? in the legs, and was groaning. 1 told him to pet to the rear, but before ha could move ha got another in the side. A man named Roche, an old man-o’-war’s man, who was in the Ch.na war, just groaned and sobbed, a little cough, and died. He got one through the head. His death affected mo very much. Ho was a good soldier; he was sticking close to me on the field. I felt ho was a tower of strength. DASH FOR COVER.

“Just ahead of us was a bit of ground which seemed to afford some natural cover. 1 decided to get th re. I called up the men near mo, and ordered a dash. Four or live of us were up and off. I had gone about 10 yards, .when crash —a sledge-hammer struck mo in the region of the heart. 1 said, “That’s through the heart, I’m dead," was perfectly satisfied, ami commenced to die. I made no elaborate swan-song, but thought of the hard luck it was to little mother. All of a midden I found I was better. My dying was only a temporary faint. I thought I must bo only bruised. I put my band under my coat, and felt a little warm blood. A man next to mo named Williams, an Irishman, I think, opened my tunic, and there was a small neat hole I was again certain I was shot through the heart, and wondered more why I wasn’t dead. Williams picked rao up, but no sooner had- bo moved than zip-zip 'went a shower of bullets. We go down again. I ordered him to leave me alone, and reminded him that it was a crime to leave the firing line to help a wounded man, and in hia best brogue he cried, ‘That’s no good to me, I’m going to get you back,’ I think I fainted again, for I found him with his legs twisted round mine, dragging himself on his back. Wo argued and cursed in desperation. I up, and to get rid of him bolted with all the strength I had loft, and, strange to say, got across that fire-swept zone absolutely unharmed. Once oyer the brow of the hill I was comparatively safe. I was unable to carry my equipment on my shoulders, so began to drag it.

LOST EVERYTHING. “But I was getting weak, and I think I must have lost consciousness, for suddenly I found I had lost everything. All my equipment, ammunition, revolver, rations, water, and a purse in my haversack, with about £lO, but worst of all my brandy flask. I got to a dressing station, and a doctor put a. dressing on the wound. The place where the bullet went in hardly bled at all, but where it came out of my back, oh! I was able to walk, so refused a stretcher, as there were any amount worse than I. From where this was, down the valley and along the bed of a creek to the shore, was a couple of miles, and I was over two hours getting to the beach. The last part of the journey I had to be half carried by an A.M.C. man. I shall never forget that walk; though I was hit at about 12, it was after 2 before I got to the beach. And being there, I just lay on a stretcher until I was taken on to a barge and removed to the hospital ship Gascon. That day on the beach I shall always remember. There were hundreds of poor wounded Australians, and scores of dead ones, and the wounds were frightful! It was very difficult to get the wounded on board, as the enemy’s shells were dronoing all round us. and even as we were being towed to the ship shells continued to be fired at ns. One dropped harmlessly between the tug and the barge. But it was too close to be pleasant, and a bouquet of four shells dropping just within a very few yards of us in an open boat certainly arouses a feeling of consternation and alarm. But the Queen Elizabeth, which was anchored in the rear of the hospital shin, opened again on the enemy, which was really a reinforcement; and soon quietened things. ‘Lizzie’ was firing over us for several hours, and it’s a grand sensation to hear your own shells going overhead, even if you are on a hospital ship, especially when you know each shell weighs nearly a ton. Wo had 700 odd wounded on the Gascon, and sailed that night for Lemnos. Wo loft there next day at 4 p.m., and arrived in Alexandria oh Thursday morning. I was taken to this hospital, and have rapidly recovered. It will be three or four weeks, however, before I am fit for duty, and, meanwhile, I think I am to go to England. We have had 10,000 wounded brought to Egypt from Gallipoli, and this is only the beginning. I am bitterly disappointed that I should bo blown out after so few hours ,and next time I hope I’ll have a bettor chance. I feel now fit for duty, and I may bo able to persuade the doctors to let mo return next week. HEROES OF GALLIPOLI. SCENES AT THE BASE HOSPITAL. Mr Ted Gpllis, a well-known Australian writer, - now with the Army Medical Corps, sends the following picturesque description of scenes on the arrival of the wounded at the base hospital, Heliopolis On my first day here I walked admiringly through the pretty, almost deserted streets, and, noting an unusual passage of motor ambulances from out the gates of the hospital-cum-Palaee Hotel, I continued on to the farthest bound of its grounds, and turned down to whore the railway passed through on its way into the desert again. Here there were seven or eight cars backed up against the small gravel embankment that formed the platform, and others were arriving every minute and adding to the lino of red-and-white vehicles that showed so brightly in the evening sunlight that Hooded the station place. “Well, matey, and how did you get on?” I asked of a slightly haggard-young soldier of not more than 19 years, whose head lay on a level with the upper half of the window opening. “1 had a bit of turkey, anyway,” bo smiled, wearily; “they got rno on the left side.” “But you’re not feeling too bad now, I hope?” “Oh, we’re not so bad at all; many of us can walk a bit, with assistance. Ail the more serious cases went into hospital at Alexandria.” A BONZER GO. I turned to a florid-faced, sandy-haired chap who was smiling cheerfully at mo from the bunk below. “How did you find it?” I asked. “Gripes, it wuz ’eQ while it lasted,” ho grinned, “but it wuz a bonzor go. Our crowd landed in a bit uv a creek, an’ they wuz lettin’ our three boats ’ave it while -we wuz still in the water. A lot uv us men were ’it, an’ I remember a few poor blokes gurgling an’ flopping in the water. Wo. ’ad loaded rifles before leavin’ the

ship, an’ there wuz only one order given then, "Fix bayonets,’ aid up lh’ elope wo went like loonatics till wo found ’em. Then we rooted ’em outer three rows uv trenein s. 'lh’ boys after them, an’ yell.n’ Tmshee ! Valla (“Get away; clear out')'’ jus’ the same as we lister hunt ’em off the lints at Mena camp. Cnpes, when I come t’ think uv it, it muster looked funny!” he reflected. I admitted there was a touch of the lud.crous about it; then asked him what lie thought of the Turk as a lighter. ‘"Well, they could fire fast enough,” ho eaid, “almost like b lanky machine .guns; but they ain’t no shots. In fact, it seemed t’ me sometimes as if they didn’t wantcr hit ue. An’ they were good enough on sniping unseen, bub as coon as it became an open ‘go’ the j' wore quick on droppin’ their rides an’ chuckin’ up their 'antis; but we’d ’ad enough of their sniping—live of our officers ’ad already been ‘dropped’—and, besides, it wuz rumoured round that it would go pretty ’urd with us if we ’ad t’ share our scarce rations with prisoners. Besides, it wuz an all-in, ding-dong rush, ail’ —well, we didn’t got any prisoners.”

“But hundreds were taken in some places; other chips had told me,” I mentioned. “Yes, but they landed after ns,” ho said; “wo ’ad the hurry-up end uv th’ job. Though, now I como t’ think of it, we did keep one bloke as a sorter curiosity. ’E ’ad three bayonet wounds, and wuz shot in five places.” SENSATION OF BEING SHOT. Having a halt-hour to spare before going on duty, I walked along, yarning with different men awaiting then- turn, and occasionally lending a hand where required. But 1 must say that I found the Australian warrior in no way resembling the popular ideal of the profanely cheerful British Tommy in time of war. With the exception of my talkative, rod-headed friend whom I had just left, 1 found every man weirdly cool, and unimpressed by his recent experience. None of them seemed to think that what they had witnessed was in any way particularly terrible or tragic or exciting. Several rather horrible incidents were related to me by different lads in a casual, lazily friendly tone, and, with the exception of a little paleness and weariness, I might have been yarning again with the same men back in those twilight nights beloev the Pyramids. They had little to say about their company comrades, mainly, I suppose, because, after being left wounded, they knew little of what had become of the others. I asked my friend inside how ho was wounded. “Well, I ivas gettin’ along with me head down, an’ I suddenly felt something like the stroke of a whip across mo back. I didn’t seem to realise that it was something serious until later on, when something seemed to be hanging heavy in the front of mo shirt, and I found a wnoppin!’ big clot of blood had gathered there. It had been trickling down under me arms for some time, I s’pose.” Further on I found a man of the —th Field Ambulance, lying silent and thoughtful, with his right shoulder bandaged up. and another bandage showing under his split sleeve. “Well, how' did the boys carry themselves?” I asked. “They went mad,” ho answered, with a quiet smile. “They couldn’t be held back, and, if it weren’t for the heavy pack they carried, they’d be chasing Turks yet.” ' STRUCK IT HOT. “Your crowd seemed to have struck it hot,” I ventured. “We did,” he added, wearily. “I hope you’ll have better'luck.” “Thanks all the same,” I smiled, “but most of our boys have a fear that we will be garrisoned here for ever.” “Don’t worry about that,” ho answered. “There’s no end of work for us ahead. The Australians and New Zealanders bit savagely at something miles bigger than they could chew. It was a credit to them; but the losses were terrible.” Ihe next man I encountered was a pale, unshaven, but hardy-looking individual, lying on his side, and gazing leisurely out of the window on the scene without. I asked .him where trouble struck him. Ho told mo the same place as the —th, though they attacked before dawn, and his lot landed about 6 a.m. “But we got a fair share of it,” he went on. “It was a bonzer sunny Sunday morning. The sand sloped up from the beach into short scrub and undergrowth on the hills; the sky was clear and the water was blue, but the bullets was spittin’ round like rain, an’ the shells screamed through the air like ships’ sirens in pain; an’ the big battleship about, the bay was also gettin’ busy with some noise. The water about the beach was full of barbed wire, too, an’ men were droppin’ an’ stumblin’ about, an’ things were gettin’ a bit mixed; but in the end most of us got through a bit uv a gully, and formed up wet and muddy for business. There wasn’t much waitin’, though. We were soon tearin’ up that slope with fixed bayonet, and very little Turk in sight. But they sent something now and then, t’ let us know they) were somewhere on ton. They was pretty fair snipers; hid ’emsolves in holes in the sand an’covercd over with scrub an’ bracken, so’d you’d never see ’em there. In fact, when we captured an’ got over the top, a few uv them were behind us, or amongst us. It was then that I saw a head bob up a moment —a spit—an’ Colonel wont over on his face, an’ hardly moved again. Next minit we were over that ground, an’ a long, dusky-faced beggar in a dirty brown-grey half uniform was standin’ amongst us, with his hands in the air an’ his rifle at his feet. A few mgn went towards him, their rifles pointed against his chest, an’ then three shots—an’ down ’e went. But none uv ’em waited for th’ bayonet if they could help it. Back they scattered into a trench until we took it, and then into another, an’ so on. But their sharpshooters kept to us all the time. Funny beggars, they were, in all sorts of clothes. Some were in khaki uniforms an’ ’clmots: one was in dirty white rags, an’ another wore a real flash European suit. FATE OF A SXXFEK. “ Well, they didn’t get too good a time from our blokes, I can tell yer,” said the man on top. “ The bloomin’ snipers wo found ’ud be shammin’ dead, their rifles flung from ’em. ‘ I wonder if this chap’s dead?’ someone ’ud say, puttin’ the point uv the bayonet on him. If he flinched it meant a smash on the skull with a rifle butt —or, more often, the bayonet driven down through ’is gizzard —and—p’raps, in again, to finish ’im. ... I b’lieve a few of the th caught one bloko snipin’ our wounded, an’ shammin’ dead. Throe got ’old uv his log's; two got onto ’is ’oad_; an’ ’eld ’im down while they wrung ’is neck, or choked’ iih; I forget which . . ■