“I WANT A BAYONET.”

Otago Witness, Issue 3201, 21 July 1915, Page 85

“I WANT A BAYONET.”

MEDICAL. PRIVATE’S STORY. WELLINGTON, July 15. Another impression is given by Private O. V. Wallace, of the Headquarters Medical Corps. Ho looked ill, and went on crutches, because he was slowly recovering from paralysis. His nerves were shattered, but he was wonderously cheerful. “ I was lucky I reckon yes, he insisted. “ I was lucky compared with some of the others. I landed on Sunday jnorning, and I only hung out till Tuesday. I got two shrapnel wounds in the abdomen —just punctures —and a couple of ambulance men had just bandaged me up nicely and put me on a stretcher when a high explosive shell came and blew the two ambulance men and me and the stretcher over a bank. When I came to I was paralysed, but I am getting all right now. After a month or two at Rotorua I 11 be doing the 100 yards in 10 1-5 again. As soon as I get myself patched up I m going to volunteer again. I think its sport. Some of the fellows don’t care for it. I think its great, and the next time I I m going in the infantry. Hang the medical I want a bayonet. I want to get some of my own back.” LACE OF DOCTORS. 800 WOUNDED: ON ONE SHIP. WELLINGTON, July 15. “ It was hell—that’s all about it,” was how Sergeant ■ Whitley, of Carterton, summed up bis month of active with the Army Service Corps. “ We were working under the very greatest difficulties, continually under fire and losing men by shrapnel fire every day. Out of my section of 16 only two were left when I went. Two were killed. It seemed as if the enemy’s guns wore concentrated on the beach where we had to land stuff. We had to work the ammunition supply as well, with no transport and no roads cut. Everything —rations, water, and ammunition —wo took up to the lines bn mules. The Army Service Corps did it all, with a few Indians attached, and the Indians did some great work for us. My heart went out in pity for the wounded the first day or two we were there. It seemed as if the lines of stretchers coming back were endless, and the men had to lie on the beach untended for hours. The saddest part of all to me was the lack of preparation made for casualties—not enough hospital ships and_ not enough medical staff. On the ship I went back in there were 800 wounded men. and to cai'o for them there was one medical orderly and three doctors. Of course, the doctors couldn’t look after them, although they worked night and day. Some of the men did not have their bandages taken off for three or four days, and a lot of the wounds became septic. When we got to the base hospital we were well looked after. The doctors were kind and sympathetic, and .the sisters wore just angels of light. “ Fear? No you don’t get over it. The first time I was hit was by a bullet in the chest. It must have been nearly spent, because the bundle of letters and my pay book that I had in my pocket stopped it. The bullet just penetrated below the shoulder. The hurt was nothing, but it destroyed my nerve. Up till that time I had no fear to sneak of. but after that my nerves were all gone. What sent me back was not exactly a wound. The point of a burst shrapnel shell hit ray rifle, smashed it to pieces in my hands, and crashed the butt against my hip. I had a bad bruise there, but the skin was hardly broken. It must have damaged the sciatic nerve, an now they say I have sciatica.” “THE VALLEY OF DEATH.” FALL INTO A WELL. WELLINGTON, July 15. The Turks were not the direct cause of the injuries to Private Dixon, of Whangarei. He was a shoemaker in the Army Service Corps, but along with the motor transport men, farriers, cooks, and all the others, he had to help with the ammunition supply per mule pack. This is how he tells the story:—“At that time our men were just holding on. The line on our left wing —you could hardly call it a line—was such that if the Turks had had the courage to charge they would have wiped our men out. We had just gone up to tho lino through a place we called the valley of death because of tho number of dead mules and men. There was no time to bury them. Tho first time we took biscuits, but an officer said : ‘What are you bringing that stuff for? Go back for ammunition; we’re short. Gallop like .’ Going back again with the ammunition I had three mules on a loading chain, and I got into a valley I had never been in before. It was night, and I fell into a well. The chain was round my wrist, and the fall smashed up something in my shoulder. I have not been able to use my arm since. I lay in the stinking water all night before the ambulance men found me, and then in Hospital I had a bad attack of rheumatic fever.” Private Dixon is still very far from well generally, and his shoulder is by no means cured. MEN WHO DON'T CARE. NO FEAR OF DEATH. WELLINGTON, July 15. Strangely different accounts are given by the men of their own feelings in warfare. Some speak of tho fighting with feelings of horror that they can’t disguise, some regard it is just a queer experience, and some speak eagerly about it as a splendid adventure. The slaughter made some men sick, others it made angry, and some simply didn’t care. Private C, R. Lee, of Masterton, is one of those who didn’t care. That awful eighth of May, when most of the men got their wounds, is vividly enough impressed on his mind, hut ho speaks of it without excitement. “It is very rough, very hard, and very dangerous, but I didn't mind it much. Going over on the ship was worse than tho fighting. In tho fight you know Vv LLU>O » • J fe'-'O t \J Ho, Ixjivt .you V»V> it/, CtiiU that’s about all there is to it. The Now Zealanders fought all right out there. I don’t think there wore many amongst them who Were afraid. There were a few who were a bit weak in the heart at first, but afterwards, when they got over this, they were often better than the rest. Of course, if you furn back you’ll get 'shot, and that’s no good to any man. I thought at first it was a terrible thing to be tilled, but I’ve seen

fellows killed out there, and when you see them it seems nothing very bad at all. A man says ‘ I think I’m done for, mates,’ and ho lays down his head and goes out. Dying doesn’t seem to me such a bad thing after all.” A FEW OTAGO MEN. (Feom Our Own Correspondent.) WELLINGTON, July 15. Private Braithwaite, of the Ambulance, a son of Mr Joseph Braithwate (Dunedin), is gn board the Willochra. Ho contracted appendicitis in. Egypt, and joined the Ambulance, and so did not get a chance to go to the Dardanelles. Private Gilmour, who used to be employed in Mr A. O. Hanlon’s office, was struck by a bullet on the arm beneath the shoulder after a week in action, but is getting on well. Private Hoff (Dunedin) was wounded in the arm and in the leg by shrapnel, one missile going right through his arm, but he is doing well. Corporal North (Dunedin), who w-as also wounded by shrapnel, is doing nicely. Lance-corporal G. Andrews (Dunedin) is known in jest as “The Mystery.” A bullet passed right through his body, and the doctors gave up hope of his recovery. However, he is walking about on the ship and looking as well as any of the men. NORTHERN MEN FOR SOUTHERN HOSPITALS. (From Our Own Correspondent.) WELLINGTON, July 15. As regards those who belong to the North Island units the work of examining the returned and invalided soldiers has been completed of those who require hospital treatment. The following will go to southern hospitals:— CHRISTCHURCH HOSPITAL. 6/1563 —G. A. Herbert. 6/800 —A. J. Nprthcott. DUNEDIN HOSPITAL. 10/1512 —Private F. Harliwick. NELSON HOSPITAL. 6/1151—0. L. Baase. BLENHEIM HOSPITAL. 2/1031 —H. E. J. Lambert. INVERCARGILL HOSPITAL. 2/2855 —Gunner V. E. Challis. The work of examining and despatching those for the South Island will be commenced at 9 a.m. to-morrow. RED CROSS TRAIN. WELLINGTON, July 15. The first military Red Cross train that has ever been required in New Zealand left at half-past 7 this evening for Auckland. It consists of an engine and one car fitted up with 24 beds, and the men are being made as comfortable as possible. It is stopping at various places to set down men. for districts on the way. CAPTAIN SPEDDING’S DEATH. (From Our Own Correspondent.) WELLINGTON, July 15. Many allusions were made amongst Otago men to the gallantry of Captain topedding, who met his death in a. charge on a trencU on the Sunday following the landing. Major Price and Captain Speddmg led the charge of their men, and Captain Spedding got too far ahead of h.s company. When ho arrived at the trench he was alone, but without a moment’s hesitation he leaped in single-handed amongst the Turks, with whom it was packed. He emptied his revolver, and ttie inevitable happened. When his men arrived a moment later the Turks had evacuated the trench, but not before they had shot Captain Spcdding. “ He was a fine fellow,” said the private who related the story. “ We were sorry to lose him.” Major Price was shot down in the same charge whilst leading his men gallantly.” A PLUCKY RESCUE. LIFE SAVED BY SOUTH OTAGO MAN. WELLINGTON, July 15. Private Grimes, of the Fourth (Otago) Regiment, escaped injury for eight days in spite of" the fact that the Otago men got it particularly hot. The men landed on a Sunday, and it was on the Sunday following that they suffered their most severe casualties The Otago and Canterbury men made a great advance on the Sunday night on the particular point of tho line on which Private Grimes was, and it was while advancing on a trench that Private Grimes, when 20 yards away from it, was shot in the arm. He fainted, and was unconscious on and off for about four hours, when a South Otago man named Moore came to his aid. “ He saved my life,” said Private Grimes. “ He dug me in under heavy fire, and made shelter 'for me so that I remained without again being struck till I was taken off by the ambulance.” SNIPERS EVERYWHERE. SHORT SHRIFT FROM COLONIALS. WELLINGTON, July 15. “ Tncro were snipers every wnere,” said Private Waddon, “ and when we got them we gave thorn short shrift. They hide themselves cleverly, digging themselves into the earth and taking ample provisions and plenty of ammunition with them. Wc located one fellow in a bit of scrub, and got a machine gun on to him. Then wo went out, and when we found him ho had 19 bullet holes in him. Ho was dug in with two days’ provisions. An Otago trooper told of 20 snipers who were surprised and bayonotted. “We chased them,” he said, “and in spite of the seriousness of it all we had to laugh at one of them, who was tho fattest man I ever saw, and must have weighed 40 stone. Ho went down to a bayonet all right, though.” THE DAISY PATCH. ttit a rwn rpnrr t.’v a ornn WELLINGTON, July 15. Tho men of the First (Canterbury) Regiment were the first men your representative met on boarding the ship. Sergeant-major Footer had had only a short spell under fire when he received ft bullet wound in the arm which put him out of action. Private T. E. Waddon went away in the same troopship as Private J. C. Mullins, and occupied the next bunk to that well-

known Christchurch athlete, but did not sec him after they got into it. Private Chapman, of the same regiment, was the third. All were well on the way to recovery, having received clean bullet wounds in the limbs.. All were wounded in the same locality. In a paddock at Cape Hellos over which they advanced to enter a fresh trench on the other side, theyworo exposed to murderous fire during the rapid rush, and fell rapidly. The paddock on which the slaughter occurred was covered with daisies, and tho men christened it “the daisy patch.” In many talks with soldiers one heard the nickname used in connection with hard fighting and a rough experience. AUSTRALIAN SISTERS PRAISED. WELLINGTON, July 15. “ The Australian sisters have been worth their weight in gold,” was the enthusiastic comment of one trooper, who voiced the sentiment experienced by many others. “ To us who have been on our backs all the time they have been splendid, and have brightened our lot immensely.” LANDING AT GABA TEPE. IN THE THICK OF THE FIGHTING. WELLINGTON, July 15. Captain Donald Simson, of the New Zealand Engineers, who returned to New Zealand by the Willodhra after an absence of 14 years, was in the thickest and hottest of the fighting in tho memorable landing at Gaba Tepe. For 12 days he W'as under lire, and then ho was struck by a bullet just under tho - right eye. The missile traversed his neck, missing the jugular vein by a fraction of an inch, and finding its way out of the back of his neck. “But a miss is as good as a mile,” ae Captain Simson himself philosophically put it. Captain Simson was reported dangerously wounded, but has made an excellent recovery, and, although he has not fully recovered from the effects of his wound, he looks the picture of health. Captain Simeon was well known in Auckland, and went to South Africa during the Boer war as one of the New Zealand contingents. After the Boer war ho remained in South Africa. When the present war broke out he was in London. He went to tho front and joined the New Zealand Forces. TURKS AS LIGHTERS. AFRAID OF THE BAYONET. WELLINGTON, July 15. “Tho Turks stand up bravely to bulletfire,” said a Canterbury private, “but have a horror of the bayonet. Directly a bayonet charge was made. tho Turks would leave shelter . for the next trench. Then there would be. silence, and just as the New Zealanders thought that victory was within their grasp the enemy would open up a murderous fire with machine guns and rifles, cutting the New Zealanders up badly.” Another Canterbury man had comrades shot on each side of him during the night, while another was fighting alongside a non-commissioned officer who had the top of his head blown off by a bullet. Another spoke- in no uncertain tone about the Turks using explosive and _ poisoned bullets. He spoke from experience, for an explosive bullet had carried away the middie finger of one hand, and for days afterwards he was picking pieces of lead out of his legs. The pocular frightfulness of tho explosive bullet is that it explodes after it has buried itself in the flesh. AVOUNDED IN THE ARM. PRIVATE HILL’S EXPERIENCES. (From Odb Own Correspondent.) CHRISTCHURCH, July 16. This morning a reporter i met the first war-seasoned' veteran from the firing line to land in the South Island. The soldier was Private A. J. Hill, of the AVellington Infantry Battalion. He enlisted from Wanganui, but he belongs to Ashburton, where most of his people reside. Private Hill lasted a fortnVnt. Ho saw eight days’ fighting at Gaba Tepe, and was then drafted to Cape Hellcs, where tho Turks “ got him.” His arm was bared to show the extent of the wounds. There were a dozen of them spattered around the elbow. The principal damage was done by a bullet that drilled in through the funny bone and came out lower down the arm. There were three distinct wounds, and others caused by the flying lead from a machine gun bullet. The arm is now bent slightly, and is very stiff, and it takes some manoeuvring to make much use of it. Private .Hill was sent back from the firing lino with a message. “ They know just well as wc do what a man goes back for, he said. “It is either for ammunition or to take a message. They got the machine gun on to mo as soon 'as I 'started to run. 1 could hear the bullets, and I knew they were pretty close to me. There was another noise that I couldn’t make out at the moment jus.t down by my side. I found out afterwards that it was whore tho bullets had cut out the left pocket of my tunic and drilled my touauco Ln. xnOU x »“«•> mi; in the elbow.”. “ What does it feel like to be hit?” “It is just like a man coming behind you with a sledge hammer and hitting you a severe blow. It spun me right round, and throw mo down. There was no prickling pain. The pain came first, and it got numb afterwards.” Private Hill seemed to regard the machine gun as an invention of tho devil. Tho Tories, he said, would get n machine gun on to a certain spot, and then wait for the enemy to advance into tho range. Then they opened lire. One man was decapitated, the bullets sweeping his head off. On one occasion an officer, addressing an Australian corporal, said: “Como back out of there; you are too exposed.” Tho corporal came back into cover. “ Now call your men back,” said tho officer, “What do you mean by leaving them out there? ’ “ihoy are all dead, sir,” said the corporal. . Private Hill brought back with him a wuOiosome rcsp-ect for tho Turkish snipers’ inarasmanship. “ Put a finger out of tho trench and they will pick it off,” ho said. “They arc crack shots, and the German officers are game. You must giro them their due. They come in front of our trenches and sing out ‘Cease fire, you are firing on your own men.’ I reckon that every single man who is able to go should go out there and do his bit.”