Gallipoli

Gallipoli book cover
Table of contents

This commemorative publication is a part of the series; Australians in World War I. It contains a selection of images and a brief history of the Gallipoli campaign.

Department of Veterans' Affairs
Publisher
Dr Richard Reid
Author
Canberra
ISBN
978-1877007-55-2
Series
Australians in World War I
Edition
Second edition
Gallipoli9.08 MB

Chapter 1: Gallipoli

February 1915–January 1916

On 19 February 1915, the sea off the entrance to the strait of the Dardanelles in Turkey was calm; there was no wind and the sun shone. A few kilometres offshore from the old Ottoman imperial forts guarding either side of the en-trance—Seddülbahir at the toe of the Gallipoli peninsula and Kumkale on the Asian side—a small fleet of British and French warships took station. From there they opened a leisurely bombardment of the forts. All day shells fell on Sed-dülbahir and Kumkale without reply. Then, as the Allied ships came to within three kilometres, the Turkish gunners fired back, showing that the forts had not been destroyed. The British and French attempt to knock the Ottoman Empire (Turkey) out of World War One had begun. It became known as the 'Gallipoli campaign' and it lasted until 8 January 1916, when the last British soldiers left the Gallipoli peninsula from positions near Seddülbahir.

Chapter 2: On the way to England

The Australian Imperial Force

Australian involvement with Gallipoli began, although none of the individuals concerned at the time would have realised it, with the raising of a military force during the later months of 1914. After the outbreak of war on 4 August 1914, the Australian government offered a force of 20,000 men to the British Empire war effort. This force, to be known as the Australian Imperial Force (AIF), was recruited throughout Australia. On 1 November, the first contingent - infantry, artillery, light horse, field ambulances, engineers, and the many other units which made up a modern army - sailed away in convoy from Albany, Western Australia, into the Indian Ocean towards the Suez Canal. Private Archibald Barwick of the 1st Battalion AIF, who was to fight with his unit for the whole war and return home in 1919, wrote:

... all that day we watched the Australian coast fading away, till darkness shut it out, and when we got up in the morning we were out of sight of land, and nothing but the calm blue sea all around us, like a sheet of shimmering glass, and at last we felt we were fairly on the way to England.

Indeed, it was to England that the men of the AIF thought they were going, and then across the English Channel to France to engage the German army, which had invaded France and Belgium in August 1914. Few of them would have heard of a place called Gallipoli.

The first contingent of the AIF never got to England. On 3 December 1914 the force, along with men from the New Zealand Expeditionary Force (NZEF), disembarked in Egypt and went into training camps there. Word had come from the Australian High Commissioner in London, Sir George Reid, that facilities in England were totally unsuitable for Winter lodgings, a conclusion with which the British military authorities agreed. Between December 1914 and March 1915, as the Australians and New Zealanders trained in the desert beneath the pyramids, a situation developed which was to bring them to battle not with the Germans but with the men of the Ottoman Army.

A map of gallipoli peninsula
Map of the landing at Anzac Cove showing the Allies' first-day objective, the position of Turkish troops and actual ground gained by the Allies

Chapter 3: Such an array of might and power

18 March 1915

The British Empire's decision to launch a major naval and military attack on Turkey in 1915 arose from the stalemate reached in France and Belgium by late 1914. Here, an initial war of movement had turned into static trench warfare, with neither side confident of breaking through the other's lines and forcing a victory. The British War Cabinet began looking for other strategic fronts where it might be possible to gain some success and cause problems for Germany. A request from the Russian Empire, battling with Ottoman forces on its southern frontier, turned Britain's attention to the possibility of using its own superior naval power to force Germany's ally out of the war. This might be accomplished by a rush with a battle fleet up the Dardanelles and through to Constantinople (Istanbul). The shelling of the Ottoman capital, it was thought, would then cause the Turks to sue for peace.

Between 19 February and 17 March 1914, a British and French naval force attempted to subdue Turkish forts and mobile howitzer batteries arrayed on either side of the Dardanelles from its mouth to the Narrows at the town of Çanakkale. It was also necessary, before the great battleships could steam past the Narrows and on up the Dardanelles to the Sea of Marmara, for small minesweepers to sweep a channel through numerous minefields laid across the strait. This they failed to achieve, largely because of the accurate fire of shore-based mobile Turkish howitzer batteries. So it was decided that, on 18 March, a large British and French naval force would enter the Dardanelles and with naval gunfire hammer the Turkish forts and batteries to a point where they were no longer capable of resistance. Minesweepers could then approach safely and clear a way for the warships.

As the great fleet of sixteen battleships sailed into the strait on the morning of 18 March 1915, one British naval officer observed 'no human power could withstand such an array of might and power'. All morning the gunners on shore withstood it, their guns firing round after round; warships were hit, men killed and metal twisted, but the Turkish shells could not pierce the main armour of the battleships. Meanwhile, Allied shells crashed into masonry, hit munitions and caused loss of life at the batteries. Sensing a weakening of Turkish resistance, the British Admiral John de Robeck ordered the last line of battleships forward. As his second line turned away to allow these ships through, the French warship Bouvet suddenly sustained a massive explosion and sank within minutes, taking more than 600 sailors to their deaths. It had struck a mine. By late afternoon, the Allied fleet had lost three battleships and three more had been badly damaged.

That 'great array' of naval 'might and power' had not gained the day on March 18. There has been some dispute ever since about the state of the Turkish shore defence after the warships sailed away. Were they dangerously low on ammunition? Had the defenders' morale been affected? Whatever the situation, one basic fact remained - the mine-fields, whose clearance was essential to any further progress, remained virtually intact. The naval attack never resumed. On 22 March, at a conference on the British flagship Queen Elizabeth, de Robeck announced that he could not seize the Dardanelles alone. It would be necessary to land a sizeable military force to capture the shore batteries and allow the navy through the strait.

Chapter 4: Australia's chance

Gallipoli invasion plans

For some time before the naval attack was called off, the British Army had been preparing for the eventuality that a landing to support the navy would be necessary. General Sir Ian Hamilton, a semi-retired officer, was sent out to Egypt to take command of what became known as the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force (MEF). This force ultimately consisted of British, French, British India Army, New Zealand and Australian units. During their training in Egypt the AIF and the NZEF were combined into a corps—the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC)—consisting of the First Australian Division and the New Zealand and Australian Division commanded by a British India Army officer, Lieutenant-General Sir William Birdwood.

The Australians and New Zealanders, soon to be known simply as Anzacs, were given the task of invading the central section of the Gallipoli peninsula. This landing was to be effected at dawn on 25 April 1915, while two hours later the main British force was to go ashore at the tip of the peninsula. The French would stage a diversionary landing on the Asian shore of the Dardanelles near Kumkale, but come off within days to support what was envisaged as a successful British capturing of the main features of the Gallipoli peninsula. The British, so the plan went, would have advanced rapidly to the taking of Kilid Bahr, the high plateau which lay across the centre of the peninsula. Meanwhile, the Anzacs would have seized the heights of the Sari Bair range immediately inland of their prospective landing sites and made their way across the peninsula to a hill called Mal Tepe. This hill commanded the roadway leading from the eastern part of Gallipoli to the south, and was essential to Turkish forces moving to reinforce positions there. It was all meant to be over quickly; few thought that it would result in an eight-month long unsuccessful campaign. High opinions were not held of the fighting capacity of the armies of the Ottoman Empire, whose fortunes had been in decline for more than a hundred years.

In the month before the invasion, the MEF units gathered on the Greek island of Lemnos, 100 kilometres to the south-west of Gallipoli. Here, at Mudros Harbour, was the main base camp for the campaign, and soon to be an area for large tented hospitals such as the Australian No. 1 Stationary Hospital and the 3rd Australian General Hospital. The Australians, aware now of their destination, practised landings and some officers were instructed in that art:

... Lieutenant Green [12th Battalion, Tasmania and Western Australia] was detached for duty. No one exactly knew what his duty was, but he could always be seen careering around the harbour in a motor or steam launch, or towing lighters or barges from jetty to troopship ... the ease with which he substituted nautical orders for military words of command gained him the nickname ... 'The Admiral'.

On the afternoon of 24 April 1915, the Anzacs boarded troopships, destroyers and battleships for their short over-night journey to Gallipoli. The more reflective among them were aware that they were embarked on a significant venture, not only for themselves, but for Australia. Lieutenant Alan Henderson of the 7th Battalion, a 20-year-old accountant from Hawthorn, Victoria, confided in a letter that would have arrived home well after his death in action a few days later:

It is going to be Australia’s chance and she makes a tradition out of this that she must always look back on. God grant it will be a great one. The importance of this alone seems stupendous to Australia.

Heading for Gallipoli that night was the British destroyer Ribble, commanded by Lieutenant-Commander Ralph Wilkinson, with elements of the 12th Battalion on board. Wilkinson, who admired the soldiers in his care, describing them as 'the cream of the men of Australia', had a close conversation with one of them:

I well remember a very fine Australian officer ... he spoke to me of his wife and his children, showing me snap-shots of them. He asked me, 'Was I right to volunteer and come?'—I trust my answer helped to reassure

Chapter 5: The difficult business

The Battle of the Landing, 25 April–3 May 1915

As dawn approached on 25 April the Ribble, along with other British destroyers and battleships, eased its way towards the Gallipoli peninsula. The first wave of men, whose task it was to storm the beach and then push inland as fast as possible, was composed of the units of the 3rd Australian Brigade: three infantry battalions of men from Queensland, South Australia and Western Australia. They made the last part of their night journey in thirty-six rowing boats, towed inshore from battleships by small Royal Navy steam boats. Even before they reached the beach in the half light, the small Turkish garrison had spotted them and bullets began hitting the boats, killing some, wounding others. As the boats grounded around the tip of the Ari Burnu promontory men launched themselves out, some into deep water where they drowned. Most struggled ashore, soaking wet and weighed down by their rifles and sodden packs. There was initial confusion about where exactly they had landed, for above them towered a steep cliff-like landscape. Australia's official historian, Charles Bean, later described this critical moment:

Lieutenant Talbot Smith with the scouts of the 10th Battalion [from South Australia], thirty-two in number, had struck the shore just after the first shot was fired. 'Come on, boys', he cried, 'they can't hit you' ... '10th Battalion scouts,' he shouted, 'are you ready?' He then led them straight up the height, while the Turks were firing over their heads. From the left hand edge of the plateau could be seen the flash of a machine-gun. They made towards it.

Soon hundreds of Australians were hard on the ascent of what was later known as Plugge's Plateau, their first major obstacle on the peninsula. It was no easy climb: the wounded or killed slid back down the slope until stopped by a bush; bayonets were dug into the earth to help them climb; and from the top of the plateau the Turkish defenders kept up a steady fire. Soon, the Australians reached the top and quickly overcame a trench full of Turkish soldiers, while the remainder of the garrison made off into the country beyond.

From the top of Plugge's it would have been possible in the increasing light to see just what the landing force had taken on. Stretching away into the distance were the ridges and deep valleys of a wild, rugged, scrub-covered land-scape. The ridges stretched southwards from the main Sari Bair chain, which lead up to the highest points on this part of the peninsula: Chunuk Bair, Hill Q and Hill 971, Koja Temen Tepe. For the Anzacs, the day's fighting, as it developed, never brought them near the objectives called for in the original plan. Small, isolated groups did manage to make their way up landward slopes towards Chunuk Bair and on to Third or Gun Ridge, from which positions the strait of the Dardanelles was visible, but they were beaten back by ever strengthening Turkish counter-attacks. Indeed, one historian of Gallipoli is convinced that it was this swift and decisive Turkish response that defeated the Anzacs:

... it was the celerity with which the Turkish command propelled reserves towards the battlefield and the tenacity with which those who met the landing continued to fight that turned the tables.

So the Anzacs were discovering not, as they had envisaged, an enemy that would soon run from determined attack, but soldiers who would stand and fight. Leading the Turkish counter-attack down from Chunuk Bair was the commander of the 19th Turkish Division, Lieutenant-Colonel Mustafa Kemal, who famously told his men:

I don't order you to attack, I order you to die. In the time it takes us to die, other troops and commanders can come and take our places.

On 25 April, despite their efforts to get inland, and the landing of the bulk of their infantry, the Anzacs were held by the Turks to an area of the peninsula (soon also called 'Anzac') about one kilometre deep and two kilometres long. The front line eventually stretched from the south at Brighton Beach, northwards along Bolton's Ridge, through Lone Pine and along Second Ridge to Quinn's Post. There was then a gap in the line across a valley to a small ridge known as Pope's Hill. A further valley separated Pope's from the left wing of the Anzac position at Walker's Ridge and Russell's Top. To the north along Ocean Beach were the Outposts, No. 1 and No. 2, positioned to give warning of any Turkish attack from that area.

By the evening of 25 April, the little cove to the south of Ari Burnu, soon named Anzac Cove, was crammed with the wounded who had made their way down or been carried down from the front line. Turkish shelling, which had begun within an hour of the initial landing, also took an increasing toll. So pessimistic were some Australian commanders on the spot that they recommended to General Birdwood, when he came ashore, that the whole force be withdrawn, as it had failed to meet its objectives. Although horrified, Birdwood relayed this opinion to Sir Ian Hamilton, then asleep on the battleship Queen Elizabeth. After hearing from naval commanders that instant evacuation was virtually impossible, Hamilton replied:

You have got through the difficult business, now you have only to dig, dig, dig until you are safe.

Hamilton also sent the reassuring news that the Royal Australian Navy's submarine AE2 had successfully made its way through the Turkish defences of the Narrows and was on its way up to the Sea of Marmara. At the Anzac firing line, developing along the seaward side of Second Ridge, ordinary soldiers might have been a bit surprised to hear thoughts of retreat. Private Roy Denning of the First Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, wrote:

In spite of the dirty and in some cases ragged uniform covering tired bodies the men were cheerful and laughed at their plight, some jokingly saying, 'Oh, if only my girl could see me now' ... In the early hours of the morning I heard the Officers going along amongst the men, saying 'Stick to it lads, don't go to sleep', and the cheerful reply would come, 'No, Sir, we won't go to sleep' ... and my heart swelled with admiration ... I thought I was justified in being an Australian ... Give me Australians as comrades and I will go anywhere duty calls.

The struggle to hold, even enlarge, the Anzac position, called by Bean 'The Battle of the Landing', went on for nearly ten days. During that time the Turks made a number of fierce attacks aimed at driving their enemies back into the sea, and only equally determined Anzac defence prevented disaster. In this they were assisted by the guns of the British warships, whose shell bursts were capable of breaking up bunched groups of Turkish soldiers making a mass attack. Private Archibald Barwick fought through those days in one of the hottest parts of the line — the Chessboard area near Quinn's Post:

I had two rifles smashed in my hands during the fighting on the 27th ... the piece of ground opposite us was literally covered with dead bodies, our own boys and Turks. God knows what our losses were must have run into a few thousands.

During the night of 2–3 May 1915 a final attempt was made to push the Anzac line forward, up towards a hill called Baby 700, on the way to Chunuk Bair. Four Anzac battalions, among them the 16th Battalion from Western Australia, were to take the action up steep slopes to Turkish trenches at the top. Private Les Wallis of the 16th Battalion was one of the few to reach the crest of the hill known as the Bloody Angle. He wrote to his brother:

At 12 o'clock ... we were entrenched where the enemy had been. I can't speak of our Dead and wounded — too sad Jimmie ... bullets were again flying around like flies ... I'm scratches all over ... It's a sad, sad day when we land in Fremantle, if we ever do, what's left of our old 16th West Aust Batt.

Shortly after dawn, the 16th were beaten off their newly won trenches. Landing on 25 April with more than 1000 men, the battalion had been reduced in nine days of continuous fighting to only 309 men. Bean eventually estimated the loss to the Anzac Corps during this period as 8364 killed, wounded and missing. Signaller Ellis Silas, 16th Battalion, wrote that there were few left at battalion roll call on 11 May: 'just a thin line of weary, ashen-faced men, behind us a mass of silent forms, once our comrades'.

Chapter 6: As if into fierce rain

The Second Battle of Krithia, 8 May 1915

The British landings at the tip of the peninsula on 25 April were no more successful than those at Anzac. The initial objective—the capture of the height of Achi Baba behind the village of Krithia (modern AlÇitepe)—was nowhere near reached. A determined push at the so-called First Battle of Krithia on 28 April gained little. Sir Ian Hamilton then ordered that two brigades—the 2nd Australian Brigade (5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Battalions, from Victoria) and the New Zealand Infantry Brigade—be sent to assist British and French troops in a second attempt to capture Achi Baba. The Second Battle of Krithia commenced on 6 May, and after two days of fighting little progress had been made.

On the morning of 8 May, the New Zealanders tried to advance towards Krithia, but were soon pinned down by Turkish fire and took heavy casualties. In general, nobody was really clear where the Turkish positions were, and this situation still prevailed in mid-afternoon when the Australians were suddenly ordered to attack. The Victorians were camping and cooking a meal when the order came for the advance across 'wide, dry, level grassland'.

They soon ran into intense Turkish fire. 'The heavily loaded brigade', wrote Charles Bean, 'hurried straight on, heads down, as if into fierce rain, some men holding their shovels before their faces like umbrellas in a thunderstorm'. During one hour they advanced about 900 metres, but had nowhere reached the Turkish front line, and the houses of Krithia were still far off. In this tragic advance, which gained no ground, the AIF lost nearly 1000 men killed, wounded and missing. Among the dead was 52-year-old Lieutenant Robert Gartside, the commanding officer of the 7th Battalion. Struck in the stomach by machine-gun bullets, he was heard to call as he rose to lead his men forward, 'Come on, boys, I know it's deadly but we must go on'. After this action, decried by one historian as 'one of the most misconceived episodes in a misconceived battle', Australians never fought again in any numbers on the Helles front.

Chapter 7: No sound came from that terrible space

The Turkish attack of 19 May 1915

Despite the consolidation of the Anzac position, Turkish leaders did not give up on their hope of driving the invaders back to the sea. To make up for terrible losses during the Battle of the Landing, thousands of Turkish reinforcements were brought to Gallipoli in preparation for a hopefully devastating attack along the whole of the Anzac line. The main weight of the attack was prepared for those sections considered most vulnerable, such as at Quinn's Post, where opposing trenches were only metres apart, and a breakthrough would make the whole Anzac line untenable. Fortunately for the Anzacs, the Turks lost the element of surprise when Royal Naval Air Service reconnaissance aircraft observed these reinforcements making their way across the peninsula. There was also an ominous slackening of normal Turkish fire on 18 May, the day before the planned assault. When it began, in the darkness of the morning of 19 May, the Anzacs were ready.

Between 3.30 am and noon on 19 May, Turkish soldiers hurled themselves at their enemies. As always in this war, when close-packed masses of men attempted to storm strong trench positions defended by thousands of riflemen and machine guns, disaster ensued. Thousands were killed or wounded within metres of the Anzac line, but nowhere was it breached. It was calculated that more than 948,000 rounds of rifle and machine-gun bullets were fired at the Turks. When the attacks ceased, the scene was horrific. Charles Bean wrote:

... the dead and wounded lay everywhere in hundreds. Many of those nearest to the Anzac line had been shat-tered by terrible wounds inflicted by modern bullets at close ranges. No sound came from that terrible space.

Of the 42,000 Turkish soldiers involved, 3000 lay dead along the ridge and another 10,000 had been wounded. That day gave new Turkish names to positions on the Anzac battlefield — Kanli Sirt, Bloody Ridge; Kirmezi Sirt, Red Ridge; and Shehidlar Tepe, Martyrs Hill. Anzac losses amounted to 160 killed and 468 wounded.

Within days, the bodies lying out in no-man's-land, along Second Ridge and elsewhere, were rotting in the sun. The smell became unbearable. A truce was arranged for 24 May to bury the dead, and for a few brief hours the firing ceased as Turks, Australians and New Zealanders moved hundreds of corpses into large, hastily dug pits. Bodies of men killed in earlier struggles along the ridge were also discovered and buried. Private Albert Facey of the 11th Battalion, from Western Australia, worked with the burial parties:

Most of us had to work in short spells as we felt very ill ... The whole operation was a strange experience — here we were, mixing with our enemies, exchanging smiles and cigarettes, when the day before we had been tearing each other to pieces ... Away to our left there were high table-toped hills and on these there were what looked like thousands of people. Turkish civilians had taken advantage of the cease-fire to come out and watch the burial.

From that time forward the Anzacs gained a new appreciation of their adversaries. They were soldiers like themselves, bound to the business of war, but experiencing equally its brutalities and sufferings.

Chapter 8: Of all the bastards of places

Life at Anzac

As the period between the landing of 25 April and the truce of 24 May showed, the Anzacs had been unable to force their way inland across the peninsula. Likewise, the attempts of the Ottoman Army to drive them away had also failed. War at Anzac soon settled into exactly what the Gallipoli planners had never envisaged—the stalemate of trench warfare. In one of his many official dispatches to Australia, Charles Bean informed his readers of the characteristics of this sort of warfare at Anzac. Military actions, he wrote:

... are the incidents in long, weary months, whose chief occupation is the digging of mile upon mile of endless sap [trench], of sunken road, through which troops and mules can pass safely ... The carrying of biscuit boxes and building timbers for hours daily, the waiting in weary queues, at thirty half-dry wells, for the privilege of carrying wa-ter cans for half a mile uphill ... the sweeping and disinfecting of trenches in the never ending fight against flies.

For the soldiers, their main problems revolved around keeping clean, surviving on poor rations, and staying healthy. Water was scarce and had to be carried up to the front; to shave or wash, a man had to try to save enough from his small daily ration. Clothes were soon riddled with lice, causing constant itching, and the creatures were difficult to get rid off. An added advantage of a cleansing swim at the beach was the opportunity it provided for thoroughly soaking a uniform in salt water, thus hopefully drowning the unwanted insects. As Joseph Beetson reported, this didn't always work:

I saw one man fish his pants out; after examining the seams, he said to his pal: 'They're not dead yet'. His pal replied: 'Never mind, you gave them a ... of a fright'.

Swimming was a dangerous activity and emphasised the fact that at Anzac the soldiers were never safe from hostile fire. Turkish artillery regularly shelled Anzac Cove, the main supply base for the whole Anzac position until after August. It was recorded that during bathing at the cove on 23 June, eight men were hit by a shell and that one of them came out of the water holding his severed arm. At times, men simply disappeared, having been killed in the water.

The monotonous Anzac diet was composed largely of tinned bully beef, hard dry biscuits, jam, tea and sugar. The biscuits were so hard that they often had to be soaked in water and then grated into a mush to make them edible. Many a tooth was broken by this hard tack and in the early days there were no official dentists on Anzac. As the flies multiplied in the hot weather, fed by half-buried, decomposing corpses, food scraps and other human material in the unhygienic trenches, they got into everything. Trooper Ion Idriess of the 5th Light Horse, from Queensland, recalled how the flies swarmed into a jam tin he had opened. Despite his best efforts to keep them away, they also swarmed all over his jam covered biscuit and got into his mouth. Eventually he gave up the struggle:

... I threw the tin over the parapet. I nearly howled with rage ... Of all the bastards of places this is the greatest bastard in the world.

The heat of summer, bad diet and poor hygiene soon had its effect on general health. By August doctors were reporting that most of the Anzacs were suffering from some form of dysentery or diarrhoea and the evidence for this was the fact that hundreds of men were being evacuated sick. Indeed, many, many more men were evacuated from Gallipoli sick than were killed or wounded. In late August 1915, the Regimental Medical officer of the 15th Battalion summed up the cumulative effects of battle and the strains of life at Gallipoli on his unit:

The condition of the men of the battalion was awful. Thin, haggard, as weak as kittens and covered with suppurating sores. The total strength of the battalion was two officers and 170 men. If we had been in France, every man would have been sent to hospital.

This gradual, insidious wearing down of the army at Gallipoli was pointless. The aim of the landings had been to seize quickly the shore batteries on the Dardanelles and to allow the Royal Navy safe passage up to Constantinople. As June and July wore on, a plan was devised to break out from the Anzac position, a plan that hopefully would see a successful end to the campaign. The ensuing battle to put this plan into operation began on 6 August 1915.

Chapter 9: Like corn before a scythe

The August Offensive, 6–10 August 1915

The country immediately to the north of the Anzac line at Walker's Ridge stretched away in a series of long ridges and deeply eroded valleys. These ridges snaked down from the main range leading to the heights of Chunuk Bair and, during the months of May and June 1915, Major Percy Overton, Canterbury Mounted Rifles, scouted the area. He found it lightly held by the Turks. Just as nobody thought the Turks would attack Anzac from the north along the beach, exposed to the guns of the British warships, so the Turks thought themselves free from attack from this seemingly impassible terrain. Only Lieutenant-Colonel Mustafa Kemal thought an attack up these precipitous slopes possible, but his fears were discounted by higher command. Kemal was right. It was from this very direction that the proposed breakout from Anzac was attempted.

The plan was a complex one. On 6 August there would be a diversionary Australian attack on key Turkish positions on the Lone Pine plateau, strong enough to make the enemy think that this was a major onslaught. As it was in progress, the New Zealand infantry would make its way north from Anzac, into the valleys and then up to a ridge line just below Chunuk Bair, from where, at dawn on 7 August, that commanding position would be assaulted. An Australian force would also make its way well to the north behind the beach, then swing east into a valley, up to a ridge and on to capture the highest point of the Sari Bair range—Koja Temen Tepe (Hill 971), the 'hill of the great pasture'. The plan also called for other diversionary attacks in the early hours of 7 August, including one by Australian light horsemen. While all this was going on there would be a new British landing at Suvla Bay during the night of 6–7 August, well north of Anzac at the far end of Ocean Beach, followed by the capture of Turkish positions further inland. Thus would the Turks be confronted by the Anzacs on the heights of Sari Bair and a major new British force inland from Suvla. Might not these strokes win the campaign? At least, so it was thought.

During the morning and early afternoon of 6 August, the New South Welshmen of the battalions of the First Australian Brigade filed into the trenches of Lone Pine. Charles Bean described the scene:

The men chaffed each other drily, after the manner of spectators waiting to see a football match. Some belated messenger hurried along the trench to find his platoon, and, in passing, recognised a friend. 'Au revoir, Bill', he nodded, 'meet you over there'. 'So long, Tom', was the answer, 'see you again in half an hour'.

It was 5.30 pm; Anzac artillery, which had been bombarding the Turkish lines, fell silent; officers' whistles blew; and the Australians rose from their positions and raced across no-man's-land. Within half an hour the Turkish trenches, after hard fighting, had been seized and new posts established well into the Turkish position. But the real battle of Lone Pine—the Turkish efforts over the next three days to take back their lost trenches — was just beginning. As anticipated, the Turkish commanders saw these positions as essential, and reinforcements were quickly diverted to assist in their recapture.

The Lone Pine fighting for both sides during these Turkish counter-attacks was all about throwing bombs across hastily erected barriers, dashing around corners in trenches and getting off a few rounds at the shapes of advancing men, slipping over the dead and avoiding the dying and wounded. The dead and wounded, according to Sergeant Cyril Lawrence of the 2nd Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, were impossible to avoid:

Right beside me within a space of fifteen feet, I can count fourteen of our boys stone dead. Ah! It is a piteous sight. Men and boys who yesterday were full of joy and life, now lying there, cold—cold—dead — their eyes glassy, their faces sallow and covered with dust ... somebody's son — now merely a thing.

For the Anzacs, now the defenders, all efforts went into holding on to the sand bag barriers hastily erected during their attacking phase. Dozens of small-scale actions were fought on 7, 8 and 9 August to hold off the determined Turkish efforts to drive the Australians out of their new Lone Pine positions. Typical of these actions was the one fought by men of the 7th Battalion, from Victoria, on 9 August. Lieutenant Frederick Tubb was in command of a captured Turkish trench and some of his men had been assigned to catch the Turkish bombs (grenades) and hurl them back before they exploded. Gradually, these men were killed or mutilated. One of them, Corporal Frederick Wright, clutched at a bomb that burst in his face, killing him. Another, Corporal Harry Webb, described by Charles Bean as an 'orphan from Essendon', continued to catch bombs until both his hands had been blown off. He walked out of the Pine and died. Tubb later described what it had been like:

Three different times I was blown yards away from bombs. Our trenches were filled with dead, mostly ours ... We were glad to get out ... I cannot write of details but many of our brave boys were blown to pieces. As fast as we put men in to fill the breaches they were out. I kept sending for reinforcements and bombs, all our bomb throwers were killed and so were those that volunteered to fill their places.

Conditions in Tubb's trench got worse. Tubb himself was wounded and soon only two soldiers were left fighting with him — Corporals William Dunstan and Alexander Burton. A huge explosion virtually demolished their main barricade and, as Dunstan and Burton worked swiftly to rebuild it, Tubb covered them with his revolver. A bomb now killed Burton and temporarily blinded Dunstan. Reinforcements arrived from nearby and the barricade was held and not again seriously attacked. Tubb, Burton and Dunstan all received the Victoria Cross, the highest award in the British Empire and Commonwealth for bravery in action. Indeed, something of the sheer intensity of the fighting at Lone Pine is evident from the fact that seven Victoria Crosses were awarded to Australians for this action, in addition to a host of other lesser bravery awards. It was all over by the morning of 10 August, when Turkish counter-attacks ceased. Anzac casualties amounted to more than 2000 killed, wounded and missing, while Turkish losses were estimated at more than 6900.

While the Australians held their gains at Lone Pine, one of the Turkish officers opposing them there, Major Zeki Bey, realised that this was not the main attack. He later told Charles Bean:

 ... all these days I had been looking over my left shoulder seeing your shells bursting on the rear slopes of Chunuk Bair ... I knew things must be happening at Chunuk Bair which were more critical by far, and, if you succeeded there what use would be our efforts at Kanli Sirt [Lone Pine]?

The New Zealand and British attempt to seize and hold Chunuk Bair began after dark on 6 August. As the Australians struggled at Lone Pine, New Zealand, Australian, and other British Empire units left the Anzac lines and headed north beside the beach. Soon, the New Zealanders broke off and into the valley known as the Sazli Dere. Before their arrival, other New Zealand units, among them the Maori Contingent, had begun to capture local Turkish outposts. The Maoris attacked in traditional style:

They yelled as they went, with bayonets at the charge, 'Ka mate, ka mate! Ka ora, ka ora', the ancient Maori battle song ... On they went ... there was no breath to finish the chant; they needed it to push the bayonet home. The lads flung themselves at the foe like a band of destroying angels.

By dawn on 7 August, the New Zealand infantry was well on its way up the ridge to take position for an attack on the summit. However, the soldiers were exhausted after the strenuous and bewildering night march through difficult countryside and, instead of moving directly on to Chunuk Bair as the plan required them to do, they halted on Rhododendron Ridge. Below them, and to the south, they could see the Australian trenches at the Nek.

The Nek was a small area of ground where the ridge between Russell's Top narrowed on the way up towards Baby 700. On each side lay precipitous slopes. The plan was that as the New Zealanders captured Chunuk Bair, and were hopefully coming down the range behind the Turks, the men of the 3rd Australian Light Horse Brigade, from Victoria and Western Australia, would simultaneously attack across the Nek. The Turks, feeling themselves vulnerable from both front and rear, would retreat. However, at the time for the planned attack, 4.30 am, there were no enemy troops behind the Turks. In this situation even General Birdwood had felt an attack at the Nek was pointless:

These [Turkish] trenches and convergences of communication trenches ... require considerable strength to force. The narrow Nek to be crossed ... makes an unaided attack in that direction almost hopeless.

Hopeless or not, the attack went forward. A bombardment of the enemy lines unaccountably ceased minutes before the start time, so allowing the Turkish riflemen and machine-gunners to take up position for what they knew was coming. Between 4.30 and 5.20 am, four consecutive waves of light horsemen rose from their trenches and ran into a perfect storm of bullets; not one of them is thought to have reached the Turkish line. Lieutenant William Cameron, 9th Light Horse (South Australia and Victoria), watched in horror:

We saw them climb out and move forward about ten yards [nine metres] and lie flat. The second wave did like-wise ... As they rose to charge, the Turkish Machine Guns just poured out lead and our fellows went down like corn before a scythe. The distance to the enemy trenches was less than 50 yards [45 metres] yet not one of those two lines got anywhere near it.

The first two lines were composed of men of the 8th Light Horse from western Victoria. The next to go, the 10th Light Horse from Western Australia, met a similar fate. Charles Bean wrote of this dire loss:

With that regiment went the flower of the youth of Western Australia, sons of the old pioneering families, youngsters—in some cases two and three from the same home—who had flocked to Perth at the outbreak of war with their own horses and saddlery in order to secure enlistment in a mounted regiment of the AIF.

Despite Bean's later claims, that the attack may have held Turkish reinforcements temporarily from Chunuk Bair, this disastrous action had little, if any, outcome for the battle over all.

Much further to the north, on the ridges leading to Koja Temen Tepe, other Australians were having little better success. The assaulting column, commanded by Brigadier General John Monash and composed of the battalions of the 4th Australian Brigade, had got lost on their night march, and dawn found them in hastily dug positions exposed to Turkish fire. They were ordered to continue the advance on 8 August, but, as the Australian battalions moved over an exposed slope, they were caught by Turkish machine guns and suffered heavy casualties. By the evening of that day Monash was informed that so great had been the losses that further advance was impossible; one unit, the 15th Battalion, which had set out from Anzac 850 strong had been reduced to just 250 men. So came to an end the Australian attempt to capture Koja Temen Tepe, the highest point in the Sari Bair range.

After witnessing the light horse attack at the Nek on 7 August, the New Zealanders now struggled on up Rhododendron Ridge. In the teeth of intense Turkish fire and heavy casualties they dug in. Finally, at dawn on 8 August, the Wellington Battalion, led by Colonel William Malone, made it to the top of Chunuk Bair. Sergeant Daniel Curham was aware of the significance of the moment:

Some chaps had a glimpse of the sea and all the country in between and we knew perfectly well that this hill was the key to victory or defeat on the peninsula.

For a whole day the Wellingtons, with support from two British regiments, defended the 'hill' in what is regarded as one of the epics of New Zealand military history. Time and time again, determined Turkish assaults were beaten off from the New Zealand trenches. One soldier wrote of the position to his right where 'all our men are wounded or dead'. Late in the day, Malone was killed and after dark the Wellingtons were withdrawn. Of the 760 of them who had captured Chunuk Bair only 70 unwounded or slightly wounded came out. Bean's words capture something of their condition:

Their uniforms were torn, their knees broken. They had had no water since the morning; they could talk only in whispers; their eyes were sunken; their knees trembled; some broke down and cried.

Throughout 9 August, the New Zealanders, again supported by British units, clung to Chunuk Bair. In the valleys below them British, and British India Army, reinforcements struggled in vain to reach them. Only the 6th Gurkha Battal-ion managed to burst over the crest of the summit between Koja Temen Tepe and Chunuk Bair—Hill Q—but shells fal-ling among them from Anzac and from offshore warships drove them back. Unknown to those defending Chunuk Bair, a great Turkish counter-attack was in the making.

At this critical point, Lieutenant-Colonel Mustafa Kemal came to take command of Turkish forces at Chunuk Bair. There he found his men disheartened by the strong New Zealand stand and the constant naval shelling. But, convinced that a last all-out effort must be made to drive his enemies off the heights, he called forward, despite some protests, the last of the available Turkish reserves. Near dawn, on 10 August 1915, he walked to the front of his force, realising that an attack needed to commence before daylight and not allow the naval guns or machine guns to recommence their demoralising fire. Kemal addressed the Turkish soldiers:

Soldiers! There is no doubt we can defeat the enemy opposing us. But don't you hurry; let me go in front first. When you see the wave of my whip all of you rush forward together.

At Kemal's signal, the Turks charged and swept aside the British troops manning the old New Zealand trench lines on the heights. Rushing down the seaward slopes of Chunuk Bair, they were caught in the open by New Zealand machine guns and the attack eventually stalled. The Turks had, however, regained Chunuk Bair and brought the Anzac and British effort to seize these heights to an end. Like the landings of 25 April, the August Offensive was a failure; a sizeable area to the north of the old Anzac position had been captured but no breakthrough had occurred, and the strait of the Dardanelles remained as far away as ever.

The tragedy of the battle for Chunuk Bair was visible in the valleys and on the slopes of the ridges. The dead lay everywhere, and the sheer number of wounded temporarily overwhelmed the medical services responsible for their treatment and evacuation. Those incapable of struggling down through the dense scrub called out to the stretcher bearers who, working night and day to the point of collapse, had to make hard decisions about which man to take first. The carry down to the embarkation point on the beach was long and steep; some bearers were shot on the way. Private Ormond Burton, New Zealand Medical Corps, saw the plight of some 300 wounded:

No one appeared to be responsible for them. Their wounds were uncared for and in the heat some were in a shocking state. They had no food and no water. Many died there—some able to see the hospital ships with their green bands and red crosses no distance out to sea.

Once a wounded man reached a hospital ship he fell under the care of the British Empire nurses, amongst them the nurses of the Australian Army Nursing Service (AANS). These were the first Australian women to fully experience the devastating effects of modern war on their men folk, and working so close inshore they were, as Nurse Daisy Richmond reported, at times in danger from stray bullets, although the Turks never deliberately fired on the hospital ships:

We are well under fire many bullets coming on the decks. I was speaking to one boy, moved away to another patient when a bullet hit him and lodged in his thigh. It just missed.

The hospital ships took the wounded to military hospitals on the nearby Greek islands of Imbros and Lemnos, to Alexandria—1050 km away in Egypt—or even to Malta or England. On Lemnos, Matron Grace Wilson and her staff of AANS nurses at the 3rd Australian General Hospital (AGH) tended the Australian and British Empire wounded. Military historians have summed up the August Offensive in broad strategic terms; Matron Wilson's conclusions went to the heart of the matter for its victims:

11 August—Convoy arrived—about 400—no equipment whatever ... Just laid the men on the ground and gave them a drink. Very many badly shattered, nearly all stretcher cases ... Tents were erected over them as quickly as possible ... All we can do is feed them and dress their wounds ... A good many died ... It is just too awful — one could never describe the scenes — could only wish all I knew to be killed outright.

Chapter 10: Land is very dear here

Hill 60, 21–28 August 1915

While the August Offensive raged at Anzac, the British at Suvla had been slow to consolidate their positions. By the time the offensive was over, the Turks had brought up enough reinforcements to hold the British to a small area of the western part of the Suvla plain. At the southern end of the British line and the new Anzac line there was a gap, overlooked by a rise at the end of one of the ridges, known as Hill 60. It was felt necessary that this position be denied the Turks, as it was thought to be dangerously close to the main line of communication between Anzac and Suvla. Consequently, between 21 August and 28 August recently dug Turkish trenches at Hill 60 were assaulted by a combined British, Indian, Australian and New Zealand force.

The initial assault on 21 August was a costly failure. The Australians involved—men of the 13th and 14th Battalions from New South Wales and Victoria, units exhausted and depleted in the 4th Brigade's failed effort to take Koja Temen Tepe (Hill 971) in the recent battles—were badly hit when crossing a shallow valley on their advance towards Hill 60. To make matters worse, enemy shells started a fire on ledges among captured Turkish bivouacs that were made from branches of cut scrub. Charles Bean described the scene:

The flames, reaching some of the dead or wounded, ignited their clothing and exploded their bombs and rifle ammunition, and thus pieces of burning cloth or wood were flung to other ledges, starting more fires. Any wounded man who so much as stirred to crawl out of reach of the flames was instantly shot by the Turks.

On 22 August, the 18th Battalion (New South Wales), only recently arrived on Gallipoli and described by an old Anzac hand as 'great big cheery fellows, who it did your heart good to see', were sent against Hill 60. Commanders on the spot felt that only fresh, fit troops would have a chance of taking the position. The first wave managed to get through a gap in a hedge in a wheatfield below Hill 60 and into a captured Turkish trench. Other waves were not so lucky. Three Turkish machine guns were now brought to bear on the wheat field, inflicting heavy casualties. Among them was Lieutenant Wilfred Addison:

... [who] with dying and wounded men around him, and machine gun bullets tearing up the ground where he stood, steadied and waved forward the remnant of his platoon until he himself fell pierced by several bullets.

In its first action of the war the 18th Battalion, which had set out from Anzac 760 strong, took 383 casualties, of whom approximately 190 were killed. In subsequent actions on Hill 60, the unit suffered a further 256 casualties; within a week of coming to Gallipoli more than 80 per cent of those 'big cheery fellows' were dead, missing or wounded.

Further attacks on Hill 60 between 27 and 29 August involved, again, the men of the 4th Australian Brigade, the 9th Light Horse Regiment (South Australia) and the 10th Light Horse Regiment (Western Australia). The attack by the exhausted and worn down soldiers of the 4th Brigade was quickly shot to pieces by the Turks. A planned artillery bombardment on the trenches facing them never happened and, as the Australians rose to attack, Turkish rifle and machine-gun fire was raking the parapet of the trench above their heads. The first wave was, in Charles Bean's words, simply 'swept away'. There followed a night attack by the 9th Light Horse who, in confused fighting, gained little; their commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Carew Reynell, and a great many of his men were killed or wounded.

During the night of 28–29 August, the 10th Light Horse, the unit already hard hit by their costly attack at the Nek on 7 August, attempted to take a trench on the top of Hill 60. In a fierce bombing battle, the Western Australians inched the Australian line closer to the summit, holding off repeated Turkish counter-attacks. Throughout the action Lieutenant Hugo Throssell, despite his wounds, refused to leave the action and kept encouraging his men. Next morn-ing he was observed, as he tried to smoke a cigarette, by Captain Horace Robertson at a medical aid post:

He took the cigarette but could do nothing with it. The wounds in his shoulders and arms had stiffened, and his hands could not reach his mouth ... [his] shirt was full of holes from pieces of bomb, and one of the 'Australia's' [shoulder badges] was twisted and broken and had been driven into his shoulder.

Throssell was awarded the Victoria Cross, the last to an Australian soldier on Gallipoli. It was, wrongly, believed that the light horsemen had seized the summit, but it was later felt that they had pushed the line far enough up the hill for the battle to be called off. At the cost of more than 1100 casualties a position had been gained on the slopes of Hill 60 from which there was a view out over the plain. A New Zealand soldier, Corporal James Watson of the Auckland Mounted Rifles, accurately summed up the Hill 60 fighting:

We gained about 400 yards [360 metres] in four days ... 1000 men killed and wounded. Land is very dear here.

Chapter 11: It was a lonely feeling

The evacuation of Gallipoli, November 1915–January 1916

After Hill 60 serious fighting virtually came to an end on Gallipoli. Attention now turned, at Anzac, to the development of new trench lines in the rugged territory captured during the August Offensive, and to the looming problem of supplying an army during the coming winter, with its inevitable storms. A new, larger base was developed at North Beach, now relatively free from observation by Turkish snipers. Piers were developed and mounds of boxes of stores soon appeared. By November, two large tented hospitals had moved into the area, including the No. 1 Australian Stationary Hospital from Lemnos. Sergeant Cyril Lawrence, returning from a long rest period on Lemnos, was amazed by North Beach:

What a change! Why, when we left there was hardly anything round this side of the Cove [Anzac Cove]. It was not safe. Now there are tents and a YMCA and what is this great sandbag mansion going up directly in front of us? A Post Office, eh. Eighty feet long, twelve feet high and twenty feet wide. Some building! Windows, doors and a counter, too. Crikey, things are coming on in these parts.

But, if there seemed to be improvements aimed at easing the strain of life at Gallipoli for the ordinary soldier, what was most exercising the minds of the higher command was whether to remain on the peninsula at all. After the overall failure to make any real progress against the Ottoman defence, Sir Ian Hamilton had estimated that significant rein-forcements would be needed to make any progress in the coming year. Doubts were now raised about Hamilton's continuing suitability to command the MEF, and in early October he was replaced by General Sir Charles Monro.

Monro was a convinced 'Westerner', one who believed that the war to defeat Germany, the main foe, was being fought in France and Belgium along the Western Front. To him, Gallipoli was a sideshow capable of drawing off much needed men and supplies. Monro soon sent in a report which stated that many of the troops, with the exception of the Anzacs, were incapable of further sustained effort; the Turks held all the high ground; and that information had been received that heavy guns were reaching the Ottoman Army from Germany. If used effectively, the latter could destroy the Anzac positions. Indeed, on 29 November a heavy bombardment was experienced by Australian positions at Lone Pine, which showed clearly that heavy artillery was now being used. The narrow approach trenches to the frontline positions were largely destroyed and the 23rd and 24th Battalions, both from Victoria, suffered some of the last heavy casualties to be sustained by Australian units at Gallipoli. Private Mark Peters, 24th Battalion, told the Australian Red Cross what had happened to his mate, Private Alexander Macbeth, as a result of this shelling:

Macbeth was taken off the cooks fires and put into the trenches. He was at work in a sap Nov 29 at Lone Pine ... A big shell came over and blew the sap to pieces. His mates hunted for Macbeth, but failed to find him. They all believed him blown to pieces and buried in the debris.

It was a foretaste of things to come for the men of the AIF when they reached the Western Front a few months later. General Monro recommended the evacuation of Gallipoli, and this opinion was later endorsed by Field Marshall Lord Kitchener, the British Minister for War, when he visited the peninsula in early November. After some dithering and much discussion, the British War Cabinet finally decided, on 8 December, to end the campaign. Unknown to them, the higher command on the spot had anticipated this decision and an evacuation plan was already in operation.

Could the Anzacs just sneak away, unseen? There was a view that any evacuation would result in heavy casualties but, in the event, there were virtually none. At Anzac and Suvla, an Australian staff officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Brudenell White, devised a plan to gradually withdraw men and equipment while convincing the Turks that everything was normal. 'Silent stunts' were instituted, where nearly all firing from Anzac ceased, in order to make the enemy think preparations for winter were under way. After the end of these stunts, an irregular rifle and artillery fire, of the sort to be expected by the Turks, was kept up. Although much equipment was taken away by night, during the day material was still brought ashore at the piers at Anzac Cove and North Beach. On 17 December, just two days before the final evacuation, a famous game of cricket was held at Shell Green while Turkish shells passed overhead.

By 13 December, everyone had realised that they were going. For many, the hardest part of the evacuation was leaving behind their dead mates, and Charles Bean noticed soldiers in the cemeteries, alone or in groups of two or three, tidying up graves. When General Birdwood came ashore on the final day to take his leave, an Anzac said to him, pointing to one of the cemeteries: 'I hope they won't hear us marching down the deres [valleys]'. As he left, Padre Walter Dexter went through the cemeteries and gullies scattering silver wattle seed: 'If we have to leave here, I intend that a bit of Australia shall be here'.

The Anzacs left Gallipoli in three stages. During the first two, the garrison was reduced to 26,000 men, a number thought capable of holding off any major Turkish attack. Then on the last two nights, 18–20 December, the rest came off. By 19 December, just 10,000 men held the Anzac line from Bolton's Ridge in the south to Hill 60 in the north. On the final night, as the last contingents made their way to the piers, small rear parties manned the trenches, firing occasional shots and making enough noise to convince the enemy that the whole garrison was still there. Private Joe Gasparich of the Auckland Infantry Battalion was among the last to leave:

I walked through the trench and the floor was frozen hard ... when I brought my feet down they echoed right through the trench down the gully, right down, you could hear this echo running ahead ... It was a lonely feeling.

Shortly after 4 am on 20 December 1915, the last steamboat left from North Beach. Anzac and Suvla were de-serted. On the night of 8 January 1916, the British left Helles; the Gallipoli campaign was over.

Chapter 12: Laid down his life at Gallipoli

Remembering Anzac

In human terms, the nearly eleven months of the British Empire and French effort to take the Ottoman Empire out of the war cost more than 141,100 dead and wounded soldiers, not to mention the sailors who died in the earlier naval efforts to get through the strait of the Dardanelles. Australian losses amounted to more than 8700 dead and 19,400 wounded. This was close to 50 per cent of the approximately 50,000 to 60,000 men of the AIF who saw service at Gallipoli. The Ottoman Empire lost some 86,000 dead and 164,000 wounded, but of them it could be said they sacrificed themselves on native soil in defence of their homeland.

How have military historians assessed the Gallipoli campaign? Some have judged it ill advised, largely badly executed and overall of little or no significance in the wider war that the British Empire and its allies were fighting to defeat the German Empire in Europe. Another has written that the only benefit to Australia was that, for another year, it kept the men of the AIF away from the Western Front, where they would undoubtedly have suffered even heavier losses. Of the possibility that the capture of the Gallipoli peninsula, and the arrival of a British fleet at Constantinople, would have knocked Turkey out of the war, Robin Prior, the most recent historian of Gallipoli, concludes:

... there is no evidence that Turkey would have been out of the war even if Constantinople had fallen. In all likelihood Turkey would have continued to fight ... Despite the bravery of the Allied troops ... the campaign was fought in vain.

For Australia, Gallipoli has never just been about such hard-headed analysis, however accurate. In defeat, and it certainly was a defeat, what mattered was the quality of those who endured those long months of struggle, danger, ill-health and loss. Then, as now, what enabled men to cope with the hell around them were the attributes of courage, endurance and humour. One who seemed to embody such stoic qualities was an Anzac wounded at the landing on 25 April, who in September 1915 came reluctantly to see to a doctor to help him with a 'little trouble':

The medical officer found he had a compound fracture of the arm, two bullets through his thigh, another through his diaphragm, liver and side; and that there were adhesions to the liver and pleura.

An Australian officer wrote of how a trench was 'no place for a selfish natured man where almost everything is common property, just for the asking'. Many would say that this was the real legacy of the experience of Gallipoli for Australia.

Perhaps the meaning of Anzac has always been most closely guarded by the families of those who fought and died there. In early 1918, Thomas Edward Drane of Forbes, New South Wales, a veteran of the landing, wrote to the Attorney-General of the Commonwealth of Australia. Drane, aware of legislation preventing misuse of the word 'Anzac' for commercial or other unsuitable purposes, asked if he could give his first child 'Anzac' as a middle name. Was it legal for an 'original Anzac' to do this?

I myself left Australia ... in Oct 1914, and was wounded on Gallipoli which cost me a leg, also I was the first to volunteer from this town, and my child is the first to be born here with an Anzac for his father.

Drane's brother-in-law had also 'laid down his life at Gallipoli'. Such were the reasons he gave for wanting to use the name. While the Gallipoli campaign might have been fought in vain, for Thomas Drane and his family it was a place they would forever honour with their memory.

pp. 24 - 25

Bibliography

Archibald A Barwick, Diary, 22 August 1914–11 September 1915, ML MSS 1493, Item 1, Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales

Charles Bean, The Story of Anzac, Volume 1, The Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–1918, Angus & Robertson, Sydney, 1921

Charles Bean, The Story of Anzac, Volume II, The Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–1918, Angus & Robertson, Sydney, 1924

Joseph Beeston, Five Months at Anzac, Angus & Robertson, Sydney, 1916

James Cowen, The Maoris in the Great War, Whitcombe & Tombs, Auckland, 1926

Roy Denning, My dear mother: a letter from a soldier at Gallipoli, Jana Nauta (ed), Yass and District Historical Society, Yass, 1998

Thomas Drane to Attorney-General, Commonwealth of Australia, letter, 2 January 1918, A432/86, 1929/3484, Pt.19, National Archives of Australia

Sir Ronald East (ed), The Gallipoli Diary of Sergeant Lawrence, Melbourne University Press, Melbourne, 1981

Albert Facey, A Fortunate Life, Ringwood, Melbourne, 1984

Bill Gammage, The Broken Years, Australian Soldiers in the Great War, Penguin Australia, Ringwood, 1990

Patrick Kinross, Atatürk, The Rebirth of a Nation, Remizi Kitabevi, Istanbul, 2004

Private Alexander Macbeth, 24th Battalion, AIF, Australian Red Cross Wounded and Missing Enquiry Bureau file, 1 DRL/0428, Australian war

Private John Marrott, 13th Battalion, diary extracts, by kind permission of the Marrott family. Private Marrott landed at Gallipoli in April 1915 and served on the peninsula until invalided off in June. His brother Robert served at Gallipoli, and was later awarded a Military Medal for bravery at Polygon Wood in Belgium. Their younger brother William also served and was wounded on the Western Front.

Robert K Massie, Castles of Steel, Britain, Germany and the Winning of the Great War at Sea, Pimlico, London, 2003

Wes Olson, Gallipoli, The Western Australian Story, University of Western Australia Press, Crawley, 2006

Robin Prior, Gallipoli, The End of the Myth, University of NSW Press, Sydney, 2009

Chris Pugsley, Gallipoli, The New Zealand Story, London, 1984

Richard Reid, A duty clear before us: North Beach and the Sari Bair Range, Gallipoli Peninsula, 25 April – 20 December 1915, Department of Veterans’ Affairs, Canberra, 2000

Richard Reid, The Anzac Walk: Gallipoli in a Day, Department of Veterans’ Affairs, Canberra, 2009

Signaller Ellis Silas, ‘The Diary of an Anzac’, unpublished typescript, ML MSS 1840, Mitchell Library, State Library of New South Wales

Stephen Snelling, VCs of the First World War: Gallipoli, Alan Sutton Publishing, Stroud, 1995

A map with the heading 'ANZAC'.

Map of the Anzac battlefield area by Gerard Campbell, published in 1916. (Australian War Memorial [AWM] SC02009)

A map embellished with a flag in each corner

Souvenir cloth map of the Dardanelles, showing features of the Gallipoli campaign, including the 'landing place of the Australian and New Zealand troops'. (AWM RELAWM16599)

Five men standing in suits wearing hats and two men on the grass sitting in front.

The first five recruits to leave Port Lincoln, South Australia, in 1914 for service in the Australian Imperial Force (AIF). Standing, left to right: John McVicar, Thomas Corcoran, Clarence Bradley, Robert Fraser and Lincoln Green. Seated in front of the recruits are David Drysdale, a Boer War veteran and owner of the West Coast Recorder, and I O Jacobs, District Clerk of Lincoln Council. The fate of these five recruits provides a snapshot of the experiences of Australian soldiers in World War I: McVicar suffered a shattered leg at Gallipoli, returned to Australia, reenlisted in 1917, and survived the war; Corcoran died of wounds in France in 1918, aged 29; Bradley was killed in action in France in 1916, aged 26; Fraser was killed in action in 1915 at Gallipoli, aged 22; Green was wounded at Gallipoli, later served in France and Belgium, and survived the war. (AWM P05111.001; photographer: Andrew Dabovich)

A group photograph of male soldiers in uniform.

Men of B Company, 7th Battalion (Victoria), at the Broadmeadows training camp, Melbourne, in August 1914, wearing their newly issued uniforms. Six of the twelve men shown would be killed at Gallipoli. Corporal Alexander Burton (front row, right) was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross for his bravery at Lone Pine on 9 August 1915. (AWM P03318.017)

An aerial view of a large crowd of people in a street.

Hobart crowds farewell the 12th Battalion (Tasmania and Western Australia) prior to embarkation for service overseas in 1914. The mounted officer at the head of the battalion is Lieutenant Colonel Lancelot Fox Clarke, who was one of the first officers, and at 57 the oldest, to be killed at the Gallipoli landing. (AWM H11609; photographer: JW Beattie)

A row of men and women marching along a road.

Sydneysiders farewell AIF recruits before their departure overseas, c1915. (AWM H11568)

A large crowd of people gathered on the dock and boarding a very large ship.

Troops embark at Port Melbourne on HMAT Ceramic, c1915. (AWM H19500)

A male soldier standing on a rock high up above a landscape that includes a road and buildings.

Captain Charles Edwin Woodrow (CEW) Bean, Australia's official war correspondent and later official historian, stands on a pyramid overlooking the AIF training camp at Mena, Egypt, on 1 January 1915. (AWM G01658; photographer: Phillip FE Schuler)

Four men wearing rugby uniforms sitting in a tented campsite with a pyramid in the background.

Officers of the 1st Battalion (New South Wales) outside their tents at Mena Camp, Egypt, during training, March 1915. Sitting on the left in the back row is Major Blair Swannell, a rugby international who, according to one witness, had 'his head half blown off' on the day of the Gallipoli landings. Also killed that day was the man sitting in front of Swannell, Lieutenant William Duchesne. Next to Swannell sits Lieutenant Alfred Shout, who received the Victoria Cross for bravery at Lone Pine, but died on 11 August 1915 of wounds received in the fighting. Captain Harold Jacobs, seated in front on the right, was the only one to survive the war. (AWM C02130)

A submarine on the water with a group of men on the deck.

The Royal Australian Navy submarine AE2 at sea, escorting the convoy bearing the second AIF contingent to Alexandria, Egypt. During the night of 24–25 April 1915 the AE2 became the first Allied submarine to penetrate the Turkish defences of the Dardanelles at the Narrows and pass into the Sea of Marmara. This success heartened senior officers on the first night of the Gallipoli landings, when thoughts had turned to possible evacuation. (AWM P02029.027)

Male sailors grouped on the deck.

The crew of AE2, photographed before its action in the Dardanelles. Avoiding Turkish mines and patrols in the strait, AE2 engaged enemy shipping, torpedoed the gunboat Peykisevket, and withstood heavy fire from shore batteries. However, it was eventually shelled in the Sea of Marmara by the Sultan Hissar on 30 April, 1915, and had to be abandoned. No sailors were lost in the sinking, but four died in captivity before the end of the war. (AWM H18370)

Male soldiers in a rowboat with oars and wearing an arm patch with a cross.

Members of the 2nd Australian Field Ambulance practice boat drill off the island of Lemnos, Greece, in preparation for the landings at Gallipoli, April 1915 AWM C01632

A male soldier walking along the beach with other soldiers in rowboats coming to shore.

Australian infantry practice boat landings on Lemnos shortly before the Gallipoli landings, April 1915. (AWM C02257)

A group of male soldiers on the deck of a ship.

Men of the 11th Battalion on the destroyer HMS Usk prepare to board the battleship HMS London, which transported troops from Lemnos to Gallipoli for the landings. The 9th (Queensland), 10th (South Australia), 11th (Western Australia) and 12th (Tasmania and Western Australia) Battalions, forming the Australian 3rd Brigade, AIF, along with support units, were the first Australian troops to land at Gallipoli at dawn on 25 April 1915. (AWM P02934.020)

Male soldiers gathered on the deck of a gunship with more ships approaching in the distance.

The 11th Battalion en route to the Gallipoli Peninsula aboard HMS London, 24 April 1915. In the background are HMS Queen, HMS Triumph, HMS Prince of Wales and HMS Bacchante. Charles Bean described the situation on the battleships carrying Australian infantry: Every alley-way and mess-deck in the ships was full of them [soldiers]. The Navy had insisted on feeding them; it would not let them pay for canteen stores; sailors, marines, and officers shared in the expense of providing extras from the ships' canteens. (AWM A02465)

A group of male soldiers onboard a row boat.

Members of the 1st Divisional Signal Company row towards Anzac Cove on the morning of 25 April 1915. Signaller Ellis Silas, 16th Battalion (Western Australia), recorded in his diary: It was a relief to get ashore; we are packed so tightly in the boats and moreover so heavily laden with our kit that, had a shot hit the boat, we should have no chance of saving ourselves—it was awful the feeling of utter helplessness. Meanwhile the Turks pelted us hot and fast. (AWM A02781)

Row boats approaching a shoreline with some male soldiers walking onto shore.

Members of No. 2 Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, land on the beach at 6.30 am, 25 April 1915. (AWM P02226.014)

A line of male soldiers sitting on the deck and looking through binoculars.

Australian officers watch the landing at Anzac Cove from the deck of the troopship HMAT Mashobra, 25 April 1915. Private John Marrott, 13th Battalion, described his shipboard view of the landings: The flashes of the big guns could be easily seen. The shells bursting over the enemies trenches was a great sight … we came into anchorage and watched the Triumph plonk a few shrapnel shells into the Turks entrenched on the hill, then our fellows stormed it amid a perfect din of rifle shots. (AWM C01677)

A gunship firing shells with a lot of smoke visible.

The battleship HMS Canopus supports the British landings at Helles, at the southern tip of the Gallipoli peninsula, 25 April 1915. Similar naval gunfire was also supporting the landings at Anzac. Charles Bean described how the four-funnelled armoured cruiser HMS Bacchante gave essential artillery support at the Anzac landings by replying to Turkish shore batteries: ... every time a destroyer ran in to discharge her troops, a salvo [from the Turkish guns] sang over them. It was immediately answered by the Bacchante's broadside, and again became silent. (AWM G00229; photographer: Ernest Brooks)

A battle scene with male soldiers landing on the shore in rowboats, gunships offshore firing guns and smoke and fire on the coastline.

The landing at Anzac, 1915 by Charles Dixon, oil painting, 1198 x 1962 mm. (Archives New Zealand/Te Rua Mahara o te K?wanatanga, Wellington Office: AAAC 898 NCWA Q388)

Male soldiers hiding in the bushes on a hillside.

Men of the 3rd Battalion at the parapet of an exposed outpost during the Battle of the Landing, in the shrub-covered country of the plateaus behind the landing beaches. (AWM A03227)

Armed male soldiers in a trench.

Members of the 13th Battalion (New South Wales) occupy a position that would come to be known as Quinn's Post, on the second ridge line inland from the landings sites, 25 April 1915. The post was named after Major Hugh Quinn, 15th Battalion (Queensland), who arrived on 29 April with men of his battalion to garrison this vital position. (AWM A05534)

Male soldiers on a hillside with an injured soldier being assisted down the hill.

'Australian wounded on the first hill at Gallipoli Peninsula', 25 April 1915, printed by the Star Photo Studio, Cairo. This photograph was supposedly taken 'by a Sydney Quartermaster Sergeant on the day of the historic landing' and sent to his mother in Australia. It appeared in the Sydney Mail on 16 June 1915 under the heading 'Where the Australians Gained Imperishable Renown'. (AWM H18960)

An injured man on a stretcher being carried along the shore with a boat of soldiers on the water in the background.

Stretcher-bearers at the landings carry a wounded soldier to waiting barges loaded with other casualties, for evacuation to hospital ships. Captain Douglas McWhae, 3rd Field Ambulance, described the work of the field ambulances on the morning of 25 April as they helped the wounded: There were great numbers of wounded which it took all morning to attend to and get away ... The Red Cross flag was put up after a time. The three sections were going for all they were worth ... they had iodine and field-dressings: all splints were improvised using rifles and bushes. There were terrible wounds to deal with. (AWM A05784)

Men being lifted up on to the deck of a ship.

Wounded men are hoisted onto the deck of a hospital ship off the Gallipoli coast, April 1915. (AWM C01414)

An injured man on a stretcher being attended to by soldiers with more injured soldiers on stretchers in the background including one being carried by male soldiers.

Wounded from Gallipoli receive treatment on a hospital ship, Lemnos, 1915. Once on board, the wounded were quickly attended to, but at the landings the number of casualties quickly overwhelmed the resources available on the hospital ships. Sister Ella Tucker of the Australian Army Nursing Service (AANS) wrote: The wounded from the landing commenced to come on board at 9 am and poured into the ship's wards from barges and boats. The majority still had on their field dressing and a number of these were soaked through. Two orderlies cut off the patient's clothes and I started immediately with dressings. There were 76 patients in my ward and I did not finish until 2 am. (AWM H16647)

A room with injured soldiers standing, sitting, and lying on the ground.

Gallipoli casualties aboard the transport HMAT Mashobra, 28 April 1915. Troop transports were called into service as makeshift hospital ships to cope with the large number of casualties being evacuated from Gallipoli in the early days of the campaign. (AWM C01602)

Injured soldiers at a dining table with plates of food in front of them.

Gallipoli casualties en route to Egypt, April 1915. Sister Lydia King, AANS, confided her experiences looking after the Gallipoli wounded on the journey to Egypt: I shall never forget the awful feeling of hopelessness on night duty. It was dreadful. I had two wards downstairs, each over 100 patients and then I had small wards upstairs—altogether about 250 patients to look after, and one orderly and one Indian sweeper. Shall not describe their wounds, they were too awful. One loses sight of all the honour and the glory in the work we are doing. (AWM P04446.003)

A studio portrait of a male soldier dressed in uniform with a moustache.

Described as 'one of the inspiring figures in the early hours of the landing' and 'a brave and gallant gentleman', Lieutenant Colonel Lancelot Fox Clarke, 12th Battalion, was killed in action on 25 April 1915, aged 57. Clarke was the oldest battalion commander of the landing force, but he kept up with his men during the climb from the beach, and coolly took command on the ridge: 'Steady, you fellows! Get into some sort of formation and clear the bush as you go'. He was anxious to get information to higher command, but was shot as he stood to write the message. (AWM H15783)

A studio portrait of a male soldier dressed in uniform with his arms crossed.

Private Frederick Adams, 8th Battalion (Victoria), killed in action, aged 25, Gallipoli, 25 April 1915. Born in Yorkshire, England, Adams wrote in his will, dated 23 April 1915, that in the event of his death his father James was to inherit 'the whole of my property and effects'. His effects amounted to '1 brown paper parcel' containing a handful of items including his identity disk, belt, some coins and a photograph. An eyewitness said Adams was 'shot through the head on the Tuesday night about 12 o'clock within a few feet of me and buried on the Wednesday morning'. His remains were eventually reinterred in Shell Green cemetery. The fate of his younger brother, Edgar, was less certain. (AWM H05906)

A studio portrait of a male soldier standing in full unifrom and holding his rifle.

Private Edgar Adams, 8th Battalion, taken prisoner, aged 18, Gallipoli. 25 April 1915. Reported as missing in action, a court of enquiry later found that despite no report having been received 'from the enemy or other official source' Adams had very likely 'died in enemy hands on or about 25/4/15'.

A piece of paper with writing on it.

On 1 November 1915, a bottle washed up near Alexandria, Egypt, with a message inside written by Adams, stating that he had been taken prisoner close to where his battalion had landed, but no further record of his fate was ever traced.
The scrap of paper with the message was at first kept by the records office in Cairo but eventually sent on to James Adams, who confirmed that the handwriting belonged to his son. Letters sent from the family via the International Red Cross in the hope that Edgar was being held in Turkey drew no response, however, and were eventually returned with the information that 'no trace of the addressee could be found'. (AWM H02397)

Seven men and a dog in front of a wall.

Australians and New Zealanders held in a Turkish internment camp, possibly at Afion Kara Hissar, 1918. The group includes at least two men taken prisoner during the Gallipoli campaign: (standing, on left) Private Charles McLean, 14th Battalion (Victoria), captured on 8 August 1915; and (standing, third from left) Stoker James Cullen, RAN, captured when the submarine AE2 sank on 30 April 1915. Four of the crew of the AE2 died in captivity, due to the harsh conditions, but Cullen and McLean both survived the war. (AWM C02918)

A graveyard with graves marked by crosses and a small fence surrounding each plot.

The grave of Chief Petty Officer Charles Varcoe, crew member of the AE2, at Belemedick, Turkey. Captured when the AE2 sank on 30 April 1915, Varcoe died from meningitis in September 1916 as a prisoner of war, while working in the Taurus Mountains on the Baghdad to Berlin railway. Conditions for the prisoners there were described by the American Consul: They were compelled to march overland from Baghdad most of the way exhausted … practically no provision for their feeding was made, most were robbed or compelled to sell their clothing and kits to be enabled to purchase what little food could be found along the wayside … driven across the mountains at the butt of the musket, many falling by the way, and their passage resembled a scene from Dante's 'Inferno'. (AWM P01645.003)

Two male soldiers sitting in a trench amongst supplies with one man writing on a notepad and the other making a phone call.

Two signallers at an Australian signal station during the first few days following the landings at Gallipoli. This station was on the signal chain from the 3rd Battalion (New South Wales) to the battleship HMS Queen Elizabeth, which was providing covering fire for the advancing troops. (AWM P02952.005)

A line of male soldiers pushing heavy equipment up a rise.

Australian artillerymen drag guns into position after the landing at Anzac. By 6 pm on the first evening, one gun had been placed on the neck above the southern end of Ari Burnu beach, and the next day more guns were dragged over this neck to positions on the right. (AWM G00918)

Male soldiers camped on the side of a ridge.

The position at Steele's Post on the second ridge, showing dugouts on the seaward slopes held by the 1st Battalion, 3 May 1915. The three ridgeline posts, especially Quinn's, became notorious as the most heavily fought over positions at Gallipoli. The Turkish lines were only metres away and sniping and bomb duels were common. (AWM G00942; photographer: CEW Bean)

Male soldiers sitting inside a trench.

Unidentified Australians, possibly from the 3rd Field Ambulance, rest in a trench. Colonel Herbert Collett, 28th Battalion (Western Australia), described these improvised positions: A few had 'bivvies' excavated in the walls of the trenches, but most men had only the floor of the trench upon which to lie. Here, clothed in their overcoats and wrapped in their single blankets, they slumbered—only to be rudely awakened now and then by the pressure on some part of their anatomy of the feet of a passenger to or from the front line. (AWM P02902.002; photographer: Alfred Sutton)

A dirt road with male soldiers and donkeys carrying supplies.

The beaches at Anzac (the area of the Gallipoli peninsula captured by Australian and New Zealand troops between 25 April and 3 May 1915) quickly became full of activity, with barges unloading equipment and evacuating casualties, and mules carrying supplies up to the front line on the ridges. (AWM A00882)

A large line of male soldiers hauling material up an inline.

Members of the 4th Australian Field Ambulance help to haul a large water tank up the steep slope from the beach at Anzac. Water supplies were crucial to maintaining the forward positions and water had either to be carried up from the beach or stored closer to the front line in tanks such as this. (AWM P01116.032)

A painting depicting the scene at Gallipoli during the first world war.

Anzac Beach, June 1915, by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Australian Light Horse Regiment. Hore, an Englishman, sent regular letters home to his family throughout the Gallipoli campaign, accompanied by small watercolour sketches such as this. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, a091008)

Two male soldiers standing amongst stacks of boxes.

Supplies and equipment were soon arranged in huge stacks on the beaches at Anzac. The boxes were arranged to give protection from enemy shrapnel fire to the men working amongst the stacks. (AWM H03951)

A busy coastline with male soldiers crowding the beach and boats moored.

An Australian ambulance station at Anzac Cove, May 1915. Casualties who could make their way down from the front line would receive basic treatment here before being evacuated to the hospital ships. Large tent hospitals were eventually set up at Anzac, once the shore became relatively safe from sniping. (AWM P04350.004)

In a tent a male soldier crouching down by a table full of bottles and a first aid kit.

A member of the 4th Australian Field Ambulance checks supplies at the dispensary at Walden Grove. (AWM P01116.031)

A painting depicting a battle scene at Gallopoli during the first world war.

Attack by 4th Australian Infantry Brigade at Bloody Angle, Anzac May 1915, by Ellis Silas, 1915. Signaller Ellis Silas, 16th Battalion, was an artist and an eyewitness to the hard fought actions along the second ridge at Anzac, in which his unit was involved between 25 April and 3 May 1915. Silas took part in the attack which he later depicted in this painting: Up we rushed—God, it was frightful—the screams of the wounded, bursting of the shells, and the ear splitting crackling of the rifles. In a very few minutes the gully at the foot of the hill was filled with dead and wounded—these poor lumps of clay had been my comrades, men I had worked and smoked and laughed and joked with. (Oil on canvas, 76.4 x 63.6 cm, AWM ART02437)

A battle field with dead bodies lying on the ground.

Bodies litter the field after the advance by the Australian 2nd Infantry Brigade at Krithia, 8 May 1915. The four battalions of this brigade, all raised in Victoria, lost more than 1000 men in this fruitless attempt to reach and capture the Turkish front line in front of the village of Krithia (modern Alçitepe). (AWM C01079)

A painting of a battlefield at night depicted with black paint.

A night attack on Quinn's Post, May 1915, by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Australian Light Horse Regiment. This drawing almost certainly depicts the opening of the famous assault on Quinn's Post on 29 May 1915, when the Turks broke into the post but were later driven out. Bean described the start of the attack: At 3.20 [am] many of the 13th Battalion holding Quinn's were flung to the ground by a heavy buffet. The earth rocked. There was a muffled roar. For a moment a harsh red light glowed overhead from the brilliantly-lit underside of a low cloud. Through the air dark masses flew skyward. Darkness instantly followed. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW a091009)

A battle scene with plumes of smoke in the distance of a hilly landscape.

Men of the 10th Battalion watch as Shrapnel Valley comes under fire, Gallipoli, 1915. (State Library of South Australia B37305)

A male soldier sitting on a box inside a trech with a rifle and a pair of binoculars.

An Australian sniper at Anzac, 1915. Sniping was regularly carried on by both sides and in the early days caused a lot of casualties to Anzacs making their way through Shrapnel Gully and Monash Valley to the frontline positions on Second Ridge. (AWM C04155)

A view from a trench with sandbags and a cutout of a man's head with a spike at the top.

An Australian soldier operates a periscope rifle in the firing line at Gallipoli, with a cut-out depicting the German Kaiser (Emperor) mounted above trench level to supply a target for the Turkish snipers. The periscope rifle, invented by Sergeant William Beech, 2nd Battalion (New South Wales), enabled men to fire in comparative safety from the trenches at places like Quinn's Post, where to expose oneself, even for a moment, was to invite death or wounding from keen Turkish sniper fire. (AWM H03488)

In a trench male soldiers are loading shells into a concealed gun with only the wheel visible.

An 18-pound field gun of the 9th Battery, Australian Field Artillery, in action during a Turkish attack. Fighting from these gun positions could be every bit as dangerous as being in the front line. Charles Bean described the effect of a direct enemy shell hit on an Australian gun on 17 July 1915, which killed two men and wounded the rest of the crew: Stanley Carter, part of whose back had been torn away ... regained a brief consciousness before he died. 'Is the gun all right, Sergeant?', were his first words. Of such mettle were the men who, under the insuperable difficulties of Anzac, fought their guns throughout the campaign. (AWM A00879; photographer: Alexander Arthur Evans)

A group of male soldiers sitting among a large pile of empty tins.

Men assemble jam tin bombs near the beach at Anzac Cove. At Gallipoli the Anzacs, chronically short of purpose-made grenades (bombs), made crude versions from old tin cans filled with fragments of Turkish shells and barbed wire cut into short lengths. (AWM H10291)

Male soldiers standing in a group with one man in the act of throwing.

Australians practice bomb throwing, a crucial skill in a campaign where opposing trenches were sometimes only a few metres apart. Charles Bean commented that the 'good cricketer is the man for the bomb'. (AWM G00406; photographer: Ernest Brooks)

A male soldier being carried on a stretcher with other soldiers looking on.

Stretcher-bearers of the 1st Australian Field Ambulance carry a wounded Turk from their dressing station. (AWM A03770)

Male soldiers around a dining table with bowls of food in front of them and a campsite of tents in the background.

Medical orderlies attend to Turkish casualties at the Australian hospital on Lemnos. (AWM G00748; photographer: Ernest Brooks)

Outside male soldiers are kneeling in prayer while a man dressed in a white gown is standing next to a box.

An army chaplain gives an open-air communion service at Anzac, 1915. These men did their best to bring the consolations of religion to Anzac and conducted services under trying conditions, as Charles Bean described: This morning during a simple church service ... [a] shell came over and exploded not so far away ... in the midst of eight men. The padre continued his service exactly as if he had been in church, and a bird had flown in the window. (AWM G01432; photographer: CEW Bean)

A row of graves marked by crosses.

Crude crosses mark the graves of Lieutenant Street of the 3rd Battalion, killed in action on 19 May 1915, aged 21, and of the thirty-three men of his battalion killed with him. These men died during the great Turkish attack of 19 May, when more than 42,000 Turkish soldiers advanced in the early hours of the morning with the intention of pushing the Anzacs down off their precarious foothold on Second Ridge, and back to the beach. The attack on the positions of the 3rd Battalion, at one point, nearly broke into the battalion lines. (AWM A04004)

A male soldier standing next to his donkey that is wearing a cross over the head.

Australian and New Zealand troops used donkeys to transport wounded men from the firing lines at Gallipoli down to the beach for medical treatment. The Australian most well known for doing so was John Simpson Kirkpatrick of the 3rd Field Ambulance, who was killed in action on 19 May 1915 as he was bringing two wounded men down through Shrapnel Gully. A statue commemorating his service now stands outside the Australian War Memorial in Canberra. (National Library of Australia an24601465)

A male soldier standing in front of a tent.

Lance Corporal Albert Jacka, 14th Battalion, was awarded the Victoria Cross (VC) for his actions on 19 May 1915, when the Turks launched large-scale frontal assaults against the Anzac positions and captured a section of trench at Courtney's Post. Early attempts to drive them out failed, until Jacka, taking advantage of a diversion created by bomb throwers at one end of the Turkish position, leapt into the trench and killed most of the occupants. His was the first VC to be awarded to a member of the AIF in World War I, and generated much public interest in Jacka as a man. His likeness was used on recruiting posters and his exploits featured regularly in Australian newspapers. (AWM P02141.003)

A male soldier with a bandage over his eyes is being led down a dirt track by a male soldier holding a bandage in his hand.

Major Sam Butler, carrying a white flag on a stick, leads a blindfolded Turkish officer through the Anzac lines to headquarters to arrange a temporary truce, 22 May 1915. After the failed Turkish attack of 19 May 1915, thousands of dead and wounded Turks lay out in the open in no-man's-land. Driven by the stench of rotting bodies and the risk of disease, a truce was negotiated in order to bury the dead. (AWM P02649.021; photographer: Charles Snodgrass Ryan)

Male soldiers standing around a field admist dead bodies lying on the ground.

Burial parties attend to Australian and Turkish dead during the temporary truce of 24 May 1915. During the Turkish assault on the Anzac lines on the morning of 19 May 1915 some 3000 Turks were killed and a further 7000 wounded. More than a million bullets were fired by the Anzacs into the advancing Turks. (AWM P02649.025; photographer: Charles Snodgrass Ryan)

Male soldiers gathered at the front of a makeshift building inside a trench with a sign stating 'Post Office'.

News from home was keenly sought, and men regularly queued at the field post office at Anzac Cove to send and receive mail. Captain Frank Coen, 18th Battalion (New South Wales), was delighted to receive two parcels from home: I had long since given up hope of ever receiving them: joy because they contained the articles I most longed for ... I forgot all about the war as I cut the strings of those packages ... Never since the days when I was a firm believer in and devotee of Father Santa Claus have I unloosed a parcel with such pleasurable anticipation. (AWM C01738)

Male soldiers sitting inside a trench are writing letters.

Letters were written whenever and wherever a man might find an opportunity; here men shelter in the dug out sides of a trench and rest their writing paper on their knees. (National Library of Australia nla.pic-an23297142; photographer: JP Campbell)

A cartoon depicting a male soldier dressed in various uniforms.

ANZAC FASHIONS, SUMMER, by Arthur Haldane Scott, 1915. As the Gallipoli campaign progressed, men modified their uniforms to suit the weather and living conditions. Scott sketched the result for The ANZAC Book, which was published in 1916 using illustrations, poems and stories collected by the official historian, CEW Bean, from men who had served at Gallipoli. (Pen and ink, pencil on paper, 33 x 20.9 cm, AWM ART00027)

Two men sitting on the dirt and picking at their skins.

Living in close contact under primitive conditions, soldiers fought a constant battle with lice, which infested the seams of their clothing. A common sight during the campaign was shirtless or trouserless men 'chatting', an expression used to describe the picking of lice out by hand. (AWM P00437.013)

A paintin of men bathing in water by a hilly coastline.

Bathing party, Gallipoli, October 1915 by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Australian Light Horse Regiment. With water in short supply on the peninsula there were few opportunities for a decent wash, and men took any chance offered to bathe at the beaches. This was dangerous, however, as the Turks shelled the shoreline, causing frequent casualties. In this moonlit study, Hore paints a party of men enjoying the relative safety of a nighttime swim in the shadow of the Sphinx, a prominent feature above North Beach that reminded the men of its famous namesake near the training camp in Egypt. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW a091019)

A row of men wearing towels around their waists.

A bathing party, Lemnos, 1915. (AWM A01541)

A male soldier washing clothes in a box with a vessel next to his leg.

Staff Sergeant Lionel Sergeant, 4th Australian Field Ambulance, uses some of his small allocation of water to wash his clothes. Captain Walter Bedford, 11th Battalion, described the difficulty of water rationing at Gallipoli: Occasionally in the line there was a cool spell, and a man might have saved enough water from his daily ration to collect a pint or two in order to get a shave or the substitute for a wash. (AWM P01116.062)

A male soldier is sitting on a box and having his teeth attented to by another male soldier while a third is clasping in arm and holding him down

An Australian soldier receives dental treatment, probably from members of the 4th Australian Field Ambulance. Amazingly, no dentists were initially appointed to the AIF, and as the Gallipoli campaign wore on, many dental problems emerged, ranging from broken teeth caused by the rock-hard army biscuits to far more severe problems, such as damaged dental plates. (AWM P01116.034)

Four male soldiers standing in front of a small hut.

'A swanky home at Anzac', 1915. This elaborate dugout, with its mullioned windows and cottage garden, was certainly not typical of those on the peninsula, but as the campaign progressed, men made an effort to introduce a level of comfort into their daily lives. Furniture was constructed from biscuit boxes, curtains made from ration bags, and pictures were cut from magazines to decorate the walls of cramped dugouts. (AWM A05362)

A man standing over a cooking pot of food and stirring the contents.

A cook for the 1st Australian Divisional Signal Company prepares a meal. (AWM H17024I)

Six male soldiers wearing gas mask hoods over their heads.

Members of the 1st Australian Divisional Signal Company try on some of the first consignment of gas masks delivered to Anzac, July 1915. Poison gas was never used by either side at Gallipoli, but these masks were issued in July 1915 when there were rumours of an impending gas attack by the Turks. (AWM P02367.013; photographer: G Paterson)

Three male soldiers standing in the middle of a group of sitting male soldiers.

A two-up game behind the firing line at Gallipoli. At the end of the campaign, such games were staged to distract the enemy from preparations leading to the evacuation of Anzac in December 1915. (AWM P05382.009)

Four men standing on a dirt track with a pair of donkeys.

A member of an Indian mule transport unit chats to two Australians. The Indian soldiers were on friendly terms with the Australians; their role was to transport supplies of food, ammunition, water and other essential stores from the landing beaches to dumps and depots closer to the front line. Australian light horsemen used to come down from their positions to eat curry and chapattis with the Indians, a change from their own monotonous diet of tinned bully beef and biscuits. (AWM H17024N)

Male soldiers standing on a ridge in hilly and rugged terrain.

Australian and British troops at a stores stockpile amid dugouts in the steep country on Walker's Ridge, Anzac. Beside them is a sheer drop of 100 metres into Mule Gully, and the Turkish lines are only 70 metres away, over the top of the ridge. (AWM P00516.002)

a male soldier standing on a ladder with more male soldiers working below.

Lieutenant Stanley Watson (right, with pipe) supervises the construction of a pier at Anzac Cove by men of the 1st Australian Divisional Signal Company, June 1915. Appropriately, the pier became known as Watson's Pier. (AWM G01046; photographer: CEW Bean)

Male soldiers standing on a beach with dead mules lying amongst them.

Australian soldiers remove the carcases of dead mules lying in shallow water on the beach at Anzac. Originally stabled near Anzac Cove, the mules were later moved to Mule Gully to escape the Turkish shelling. (AWM P02282.029; photographer: WO Stephenson)

A painting of a man sitting in a trench with an explosion nearby.

'The '75', August 1915 by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Australian Light Horse. The guns which fired these feared shells were French soixante-quinze, 75-millimetre guns, which had been captured by the Turks. The speed with which these shells travelled meant that there was no accompanying warning whistle before they exploded, showering jagged pieces of metal in all directions. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW a091014)

Three male soldiers huddled together in a small dugout.

Anzacs take shelter from bursting shells, June 1915. (National Library of Australia nla.pic-an23297150; photographer JP Campbell)

a large crowd of people and a car in front of a big stone building.

A crowd anxious to hear news of the events on Gallipoli waits outside the offices of The Argus newspaper in Melbourne on a Sunday late in 1915. (AWM A03152) RIGHT

Two male soldiers making their way down a gangplank.

Blinded at Gallipoli, Private Frank Downes (right), 9th Battalion, is assisted down the gangplank at Sydney by Chaplain George Rowe. (AWM H11572)

A poster showing a male soldier standing on a map of Turkey with a heading of 'A CALL FROM THE DARDANELLES', and the text 'Coo-ee- Won't YOU come?' and 'ENLIST NOW' written on the bottom of the poster.

A call from the Dardanelles by HM Burton, 1915. With the rate of reinforcements slowing, a major recruitment drive took place on the home front, using imagery from Gallipoli and an Australian sensibility to attract new recruits. (Lithograph on paper, 100 x 74 cm, AWM ARTV05167)

A poster of a male soldier pointing to a region of a map of Turkey with a top heading of 'QUEENSLANDERS! Your Country Calls!' and the words. 'We're Coming lads Hold on!', on the bottom of the poster.

Queenslanders! Your country calls..! We're coming lads, hold on! by AJ Cumming. A 1915 Australian recruiting poster with an obvious eye on potential recruits from Queensland. (Chromolithograph, 76.5 x 50.3 cm, AWM ARTV00033)

A male soldier crouching down by a row of dead male soldiers.

An Australian serviceman prepares for burial the bodies of some of the thirty-six members of the 11th Battalion killed during the fighting at Leane's Trench. This trench was originally a section of front line developed by the Turks in the southern segment of Anzac and seized by men of the 11th Battalion under Lieutenant Raymond Leane on the night of 31 July 1915. At dawn on 6 August the Turks took it back, and it was then retaken by Leane's men. (AWM P08678.006; photographer: William Baker)

Five male soldiers sitting inside a sandbagged trench.

An observation team at the southern end of Leane's Trench, 7 August 1915. These men from the 12th Battalion have possibly been observing the attack at Lone Pine, which began on the evening of 6 August. The two men on the right are in full battle dress, complete with webbing, a periscope and camouflaged headgear. (AWM P01436.003)

A view inside a world war one trench with a male soldier leaving the trench and another about to leave. In the foreground the legs of a man are visible.

A section of Turkish trench captured by the Australian attack at Lone Pine on the evening of 6 August 1915. The Battle of Lone Pine raged for three days and nights, leaving thousands of dead, dying and wounded on both sides. (AWM A05778)

A view of the Lone Pine trenches showing three survivors after a bombing.

Three survivors of a bombing action in the Lone Pine trenches, August 1915. Lance Corporal Leonard Keysor (right, facing camera) was awarded the Victoria Cross for his bravery at Lone Pine on 7–8 August. (AWM A04013)

An illustrated card depicting a battle field with a male soldier carrying a comarde on his shoulders.

War Incidents: Gaining the V.C., No. 18 in a series of 50 illustrated cards created during World War I by Wills Cigarettes, UK. The card caption read: The Victoria Cross has proved a splendid incentive to courage, though unfortunately in the endeavour to win it so many men get killed. It can only be gained by acts of bravery under the enemy's fire—such as carrying a wounded comrade to safety—which have brought the coveted Cross to many Australians in the fearful fighting at the Dardanelles. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, ML Safe 1/145)

An illustrated card depicting a battle field with a male soldier pointing while other male soldiers fire their rifles.

War Incidents: V.C.s' for Australians, No. 29 in the series of Wills Cigarettes cards. This card's caption read: A Turkish trench was captured by the Anzacs but the Turks blew up the barricade and recaptured it. Led by Lieut. Tubb, his men, with bombs and bayonets, repulsed the Turks again, rebuilt the barricade and held the position in the face of fearful odds. The gallant Lieutenant was wounded, but with five of his men got the coveted V.C. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, ML Safe 1/145)

A view of dead bodies lying in a trench with rifles beside them.

The bodies of Australian dead in the trenches following the Battle of Lone Pine, August 1915. The dead clogged the trenches of Lone Pine, a situation never forgotten by those who fought there, as Private William Tope, 12th Battalion, recorded: I thought the best thing would be for me to be down in this trench that had no men in it at all, where the bodies were, because I felt that the counter-attack could come at any time. I'd hardly got into position before an absolute avalanche of bombs fell, puncturing these bodies, and up on top you'd hear the air coming out of the ones up there. (AWM H00405)

A male soldier dressed in uniform standing outdoors in front of the wall to a large building.

Lance Corporal Leonard Keysor, 1st Battalion, was awarded the Victoria Cross for bravery at Lone Pine on 7 August. While in a trench under heavy bombardment, Keysor picked up live Turkish bombs and threw them back at the enemy. Although wounded, and marked for evacuation to a hospital, he continued throwing bombs for his own and another company that day and the next, until finally allowing himself to be evacuated for treatment fifty hours later. (AWM D00021)

A studio portrait of a male soldier dressed in uniform.

Lieutenant William Symons, 7th Battalion, was awarded the Victoria Cross for his bravery at Lone Pine, while in command of a section of the newly captured trenches held by his battalion. Early on the morning of 9 August, after the Turks made a series of attacks on a sap known as Jacob's Trench, killing or wounding six Australian officers in quick succession, Symons led a charge which drove the enemy out, and managed to rebuild the barricade. After more fierce fighting, in which Symons led rushes to drive the enemy back and killed two with his revolver, the Turks finally abandoned their attempt to take the sap. (AWM P02939.002)

A studio portrait of a male soldier in full uniform and holding his gloves and a cane.

Private John 'Patrick' Hamilton was awarded the Victoria Cross for his bravery at Lone Pine on 9 August 1915. Turkish soldiers forced a barricade and rushed towards 3rd Battalion Headquarters. Several men were ordered to get out onto the parapet and attack the Turks in the trench and across the open ground. Hamilton, protected only by a few sandbags, lay out in the open shouting instructions to those in the nearby trenches and sniping at Turkish bomb throwers. (AWM P02349.002)

Portrait of Captain Frederick Harold Tubb VC, 7th Battalion, of Longwood Victoria.

Captain Frederick Tubb awarded the Victoria Cross for their actions during the Turkish counterattack at Lone Pine on 9 August 1915. Tubb was in command of a section of trench that became the scene of heavy fighting, in which he and his men were forced back several times as the Turks exploded the sandbag barricades separating them from the Australians. Tubb, wounded in the arm and scalp by Turkish bombs, succeeded in rebuilding the defences with the help of Burton and Dunstan, and continued to fight. Then a bomb exploded in the trench, killing Burton and wounding Dunstan. Tubb got more men from the next post and withstood further heavy bombing to secure the position. (H06786)

Cigarette card showing portrait of Corporal Alexander Burton VC.

Alexander Burton awarded the Victoria Cross for their actions during the Turkish counterattack at Lone Pine on 9 August 1915. (AWM RC09114)

Studio portrait of 2130 Corporal (Cpl) William Dunstan, 6th Reinforcements, 7th Battalion, of Ballarat East, Vic. Prior to his enlistment on 2 June 1915.

William Dunstan awarded the Victoria Cross for their actions during the Turkish counterattack at Lone Pine on 9 August 1915.(P03755.004).

A male soldier in a trench looking out over the top through a periscope.

Captain Alfred Shout, 1st Battalion, sniping with a periscope at Gallipoli. On the morning of 9 August, he and Captain Cecil Sasse decided to drive out the Turks occupying a section of trench at Lone Pine. Collecting three men with sandbags for building barricades, the officers rushed along the trench, with Shout bombing and Sasse shooting. They advanced in small stages, building barricades as they went, and killing or routing any enemy soldiers they came upon. In the afternoon, with a new party of men and once again accompanied by Sasse, Shout captured a further section of trench, then lit three bombs for a final dash. The third bomb exploded in his hand, blowing it away and destroying one side of his face and body. He was evacuated, but died of his wounds on 11 August aboard a hospital ship, and was buried at sea. Shout was posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross, and his name is commemorated on the Lone Pine Memorial. (AWM A04045)

Male soldiers sitting and standing in a covered trench.

Australians pose in a captured Turkish trench at Lone Pine on 10 August 1915, a day after the battle had ceased. The pine logs which covered the enemy's frontline trenches are clearly visible. The gaps in the logs were caused on 6 August by the preliminary Australian bombardment, and during the actual attack some men 'of reckless gallantry' according to Bean, 'let themselves down, feet foremost, through the holes'. In this way, although some were killed, the Australians seized the frontline Turkish trenches. Other men ran on and jumped into trenches devoid of this cover. AWM G01126

A heap of military equipment.

A pile of equipment taken from men killed and wounded in the fighting at Lone Pine between 6–9 August 1915. The 1st Australian Division lost more than 2000 men in the battle, which saw some of the fiercest hand-to-hand fighting in the Gallipoli campaign. Turkish losses have been estimated as high as 7000 men. (AWM C01943)

a group portrait photo of five male soldiers.

Five officers of the 8th Australian Light Horse Regiment, photographed in Melbourne before their embarkation in 1914. Only one of these men (Lieutenant Robert Baker, far right) would survive the charge at the Nek by the soldiers of the 8th and 10th Light Horse Regiments on 7 August 1915. Major Leslie Hore, who charged that morning with the 8th Light Horse, wrote: Truly we have been through the Valley of the Shadow of Death as our regiment has been cut to pieces and all our officers killed or wounded except two. (AWM P00265.001)

A group of male soldiers sitting on a dirt path beside a military reinforcement.

Wounded of the 1st Australian Light Horse Regiment and Royal Welsh Fusiliers rest at a dressing station at the foot of Pope's Hill, 7 August 1915. These two units staged a diversionary attack on Turkish trenches at the Chessboard and Dead Man's Ridge on the morning of 7 August 1915, at the same time as the light horsemen at the Nek. This attack proved fruitless and of 200 soldiers who took part 154 were killed or wounded. (AWM C02707)

A painting depicting a battle scene at Gallopoli during the first world war.

The Battle of Chunuk Bair, 8 August 1915 by Major IG Brown. (Alexander Turnbull Library, Wellington, New Zealand D-001-035)

A long row of male troops in a gully.

A platoon of the 13th Battalion forms up on a steep path at Sphinx Gully, waiting for an address by Captain Joseph Lee. The unit, part of the 4th Australian Brigade, is probably preparing to set out on their night march to positions north of Anzac, from where they were to attack the highest point of the Sari Bair range, Hill 971 (Çimentepe), on the morning of 7 August 1915. (AWM P02536.002)

Two male soldiers carrying a wounded male soldier on a wooden stretcher.

Stretcher-bearers carry a wounded man from a dressing station of the 7th Australian Field Ambulance at Chailak Dere to the casualty clearing station on the beach. Corporal William Rusden, New Zealand Expeditionary Force, watched the evacuation of the wounded from the steep gullies leading to the heights of Chunuk Bair during the August offensive: At last we got to the gully, down which I made my way with scores of the wounded to the beach. Most of the way down we were being fired at by snipers … I saw two stretcher-bearers and their burden all fall to snipers in about 20 seconds. (AWM C02422)

A group of wounded male soldiers lying on stretchers with two male soldiers walking amongst them.

Wounded men wait to be evacuated during the August offensive. Private John Marrott, 13th Battalion, recalled: … they found a man lying on his side wounded with a shrapnel hole you could put your hand in and had been lying there three days … another chap came down wounded in nine places and he was immediately sent to the base, where he pleaded to return to the trenches and was greatly downhearted on not being allowed to go. (AWM P00166.023)

Three boats full of wounded male soldiers.

This photograph, showing the evacuation of casualties from Anzac, was most likely taken during the battles of the August offensive. As on the first day of the landings on 25 April, medical services were overwhelmed by the sheer number of casualties sustained during the period 6 to 10 August. (AWM C02679)

A male soldier and a female nurse standing on a dirt path with rows of tents on either sides with more male soldiers and female nurses.

Medical staff and nursing sisters of the 3rd Australian General Hospital on the island of Lemnos, approximately 100 km from Gallipoli. Many Gallipoli casualties went to Lemnos; others were shipped to Egypt, Malta or England for treatment. (AWM J01438; photographer: Albert W Savage)

Male soldiers lying down on beds inside a medical tent with two female nurses and a moustached male doctor.

A tent ward at the 3rd Australian General Hospital, Lemnos, 1915. Conditions on the island were rudimentary, prompting one nurse to write: Physical discomfort was great, heat intense and later on fierce blizzards in the winter—Bell tents unlined, mat and bedding hard, but not as hard as the ground, army rations, little else, but it was chiefly in connection with their professional work that the Sisters were tried to the utmost. (AWM J01446; photographer: Albert W Savage)

A male soldier wearing a scarf under his hat smiling while looking at a female nurse.

Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell, 10th Light Horse Regiment, was awarded the Victoria Cross for bravery during the battle for Hill 60 on 29–30 August 1915. During a night of furious hand-tohand fighting, attacks and counter-attacks, Throssell was badly wounded, but refused to leave his post to seek medical treatment until all danger had passed. The medical officer who dealt with Throssell's wounds wrote: He wore no jacket, but had badges on the shoulder-straps of his shirt. The shirt was full of holes from pieces of bomb, and one of the 'Australias' [shoulder badges with the word Australia] was twisted and broken, and had been driven into his shoulder. (AWM P02939.005)

A poster of a male soldier standing over a stricken male soldier with a rifle and bandaged head. The poster has the heading 'We took the Hill, come and help us keep it!'

We took the Hill, come and help us keep it, by WA Gullick and Harry J Weston, 1915. This recruiting poster published by the NSW Government evokes the battle for Hill 60, which represented the last major Allied offensive operation at Gallipoli. (Lithograph, 91.2 c 59 cm, AWM ARTV00140)

A group of male soldiers in uniform with binoculars.

Lieutenant-Colonel Mustafa Kemal, commander of the Ottoman Army's 19th Division at Gallipoli (fourth from left), with officers and staff of the Anafarta Group, of which he was given command in August 1915. Kemal's leadership at Anzac during the Battle of the Landing (25 April – 3 May) and the Battle of Chunuk Bair (6–10 August) became legendary, and he went on to become the first President of the Republic of Turkey after the war. He was later known as 'Atatürk'—Father of Turks. (AWM P01141.001)

Three male soldiers in a trench with their rifles in hand.

Turkish soldiers in a trench overlooking Anzac positions. At the start of the Gallipoli fighting the Anzacs had little respect for the Turkish soldiers. This gradually changed, especially after the enormously costly Turkish attack of 19 May and the truce of 24 May. It was then realised that the enemy were simply soldiers, much like themselves, badly fed and as vulnerable as any human to the destructive impact of bullets and shell fragments on human flesh. Eventually, Turkish soldiers became known as 'Johney Turk', even though both sides fought each other with determination until the end. (AWM A05299)

A row of male soldiers marching up a gully.

The 21st Battalion (Victoria) march up Monash Gully after arriving at Gallipoli, 8 September 1915. This was a fresh unit, part of the 2nd Australian Division, and the sight of these well-fed and healthy newcomers put heart into the exhausted old hands. 'Great big cheery fellows ... Quite the biggest lot I have ever seen', wrote one soldier. (AWM A00742)

Three male soldiers standing in a trench with cans hanging over their shoulders.

Three Anzacs cart water by hand along a sap known as Martyn's Lane, Gallipoli, September 1915. Charles Bean wrote: The carrying of biscuit boxes and building timbers for hours daily, the waiting in weary queues, at thirty half-dry wells, for the privilege of carrying endless water cans for half a mile uphill ... the sweeping and disinfecting of trenches in the never ending fight against flies—this is the soldier's life for nine days out of ten. (AWM G01241; photographer: CEW Bean)

Four male soldiers in front of hanging animal carcasses.

Cooks of the 5th Light Horse Brigade prepare to butcher a row of carcasses, Gallipoli. (AWM P02023.005)

Male soldiers standing amonst large tents with food supplies lined up.

The field bakery at Turk's Head, on the island of Lemnos, 1915. Fresh bread was made and transported to Anzac as a relief from the monotony of hard army biscuits. After the August offensive, about 20,000 bread rations per day were coming ashore at Anzac from the island bakeries. (AWM C01198)

Male soldiers stand around on the shore with boats and large ships in the water.

Men of the 1st Royal Australian Naval Bridging Train (RANBT) tow an old hulk into place to form a breakwater for the boat dock at West Beach, Suvla, in September 1915. The RANBT was formed in Australia in early 1915 and was sent in August to build and maintain the harbour system for the British position north of Anzac known as Suvla. The unit's location there was at Kangaroo Beach, and at 4.30 am on 20 December 1915 members of the RANBT became the last Australian servicemen to leave Gallipoli. The last Australians had left Anzac at 4.10 am that same morning. (AWM P01326.008)

An explosion with debriss flying in the air and smoke rising.

A Turkish shell bursts amongst the stores of the 1st Royal Australian Naval Bridging Train at Suvla, September 1915. During its service at Suvla the RANBT suffered casualties from this shellfire—two dead and more than sixty wounded. (AWM P01326.007)

A male soldier riding along the coastline on a horse past a graveyard with graves marked by crosses.

A despatch rider gallops fast along the coast from Suvla Bay to Anzac Cove to avoid being caught by a Turkish sniper's bullet. (AWM G00579; photographer: Ernest Brooks)

A railway winding adjacent to a dirt road with a campsite of white tents visible in the distance.

After the August offensive the North Beach area was built up as a major supply and hospital area. A light railway line was built to move material between Anzac Cove and North Beach, seen here from the headland of Ari Burnu. The tents of the casualty clearing stations and field ambulance units can be seen at the foot of the Sphinx. (AWM P00037.001)

A male soldier and a female nurse walking under a guard of honour given by male soldiers.

An Australian soldier marries a nurse at the Church Camp at Lemnos, October 1915. (AWM P01360.001)

a male soldier holding a little child with a gray bearded man sitting behind and also holding a little child.

Lemnos was a valuable base for Australian, British and Canadian tent hospitals, and also provided a place where exhausted men from depleted battalions could rest and recover—and possibly make friends with the locals. Private Archibald Barwick, 1st Battalion, described his first rest days at Lemnos: ... the first thing we done ... was to have a good clean up wash and shave, there was no roll call that day, some of us washed our clothes over at the well, there was a bonzer spring there, [that] we made use of, and a day or two after this we were all issued with new clothes and felt like new men ... we were clean once more. (AWM C02222)

Male soldiers tightly crammed into a boat on the sea with ships visible in the background.

Men of the 7th Battalion go back to the lines at Anzac after resting on Lemnos, 1915. (State Library of Victoria an006537)

A male soldier sitting on the ground by a small table with notebook and pen in hand.

A member of the 4th Field Ambulance in his dugout at Hotchkiss Gully, Anzac. On the walls behind him can be seen a selection of photographs, sketches and illustrations, some cut from popular papers, depicting, among other things, events on Gallipoli. (AWM C00678)

A male soldier sitting behind a writing desk and writing in a small notebook.

Major Dennis King, 1st Infantry Brigade, in his dugout at Anzac, late 1915. On the walls behind him can be seen a map of Gallipoli and other operational papers. (AWM J02559)

Ships being battered into rocks on the coast.

A gale batters ships into the newly constructed stone wall at West Beach, Suvla, November 1915. The onset of autumn storms at Gallipoli severely damaged harbour and pier constructions and made commanders realise that the Allied positions on the peninsula might be really threatened. (AWM A01249)

A boat in rough seas with men onboard, some are naked.

Soldiers struggle to salvage stores on the beach during a storm near Anzac Cove. (AWM C01628)

A painting os a shoreline with male soldiers carrying injured comrades on stretchers with a ship visible in the background.

Frostbite, Dec '15 by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Light Horse Regiment, 1915. The severe weather of the approaching winter on the peninsula caused many casualties. Sister Anne Donnell, Australian Army Nursing Service, stationed on the island of Lemnos, wrote: In that terrible weather, with wind travelling a hundred miles an hour, and rain and sleet, all seems so pitifully hopeless … they began to arrive with their poor feet and hands frostbitten … They endured agonies. Sentries were found dead at their posts, frozen and still clutching their rifles … their fingers were too frozen to pull the trigger. And some we have in hospital are losing both feet, some both hands. It's all too sad for words, hopelessly sad. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, a091030)

Two male soldiers wearing long coats stand in the snow with snowballs in their hands.

Winter blanketed the peninsula in November 1915—for many Australian soldiers, their first sight of snow. (AWM P01094.005)

A group of male soldiers stand to attention as male officers walk past.

British Secretary of State for War, Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, arrives at Gallipoli, and greets those who had rushed to the beach to see him, 13 November 1915. The Field Marshal had come to inspect conditions on the peninsula, and as a result of this visit, he recommended evacuation. (AWM H10354)

A male soldier sitting at a table with a pipe in mouth, pen in hand, and papers in front of him.

Colonel Cyril White, 1st Australian Division, in his dugout at Gallipoli. White devised the successful evacuation plans for all Allied forces in the Anzac and Suvla areas of Gallipoli. (AWM A00877)

Soldiers walk through a graveyard full of crosses.

Hand coloured glass lantern slide, State Library of Victoria mp014369

A male soldier mourns at a gravesite with graves marked with crosses.

In preparation for the evacuation of the peninsula in December, many men took time to visit and tend the graves of deceased friends. Expressing an emotion felt by many, Company Quartermaster Sergeant Alfred Guppy, 14th Battalion, wrote: Sleep sound, old friends—the keenest part Which, more than failure, wounds the heart, Is thus to leave you - thus to part. (AWM G00419)

A group of male soldiers breaking up equipment.

Soldiers, possibly of the 2nd Field Company, Royal Australian Engineers, use hand tools to destroy stores at Anzac Cove before the evacuation, December 1915. (AWM P02226.023)

A row of rifles hanging upright.

During the evacuation, one of ruses designed to give the Turks the impression that life on Gallipoli was continuing as normal was a device to fire rifles using a time delay mechanism. A candle was left burning in a box, and as it burnt down it severed a string attached to a stone, which fired the rifle as it dropped. (AWM P01531.019)

A male soldier standing with one leg raised on some beams.

Lieutenant General Sir William Birdwood, for most of the campaign the commander of Anzac forces, surveys North Beach on the last day of the evacuation, 19 December 1915. (AWM H10389; photographer: Ernest Brooks)

A person standing on a bridge over water with a battlefield in the background.

A view of Anzac on the last day, taken from the end of a pier at North Beach, with the Sphinx standing over the remnants of the occupation, 19 December 1915. (AWM A01868)

A painting of male soldiers in a huddle.

Finis Dec 20 1915, by Major Leslie Hore, 8th Light Horse Regiment, 1915. For much of the campaign, huge piles of stores had been stacked near the beaches. These were torched as the evacuation took place, to prevent their use by the Turks. (Mitchell Library, State Library of NSW, a1794013)

A view over water with a large fire on the shore.

A view of the burning stores from a departing battleship, in the early morning after the evacuation, 20 December 1915. (AWM A03312)

Male soldiers standing on the deck of a ship.

Members of an Australian Casualty Clearing Station on the deck of the British hospital ship Dongola after the evacuation of Anzac, 20 December 1915. (AWM P00661.001)

A painting of male soldiers sitting in a room with tables and chairs and bottles of beer.

Farewell to Anzac 20th December 1915, by W B McInnes, 1927. A scene on the transport ship Arran, depicting several well-known AIF leaders relaxing in the smoky din of the saloon after months of fighting on the peninsula. (Oil on linen, 142.5 x 214.3 cm, AWM ART09582)

A row of male soldiers standing with supplies at their feet.

Members of the 1st Australian Divisional Signals Company on the island of Lemnos open their Christmas billies and read letters from home soon after the evacuation from Gallipoli, December 1915. (AWM P02367.002)

A twig with leaves that each have been written on.

A small spray of leaves picked on Gallipoli and inscribed with the message: '1915 Anzac, Christmas Greetings from Gallipoli, to Bessie from Charlie', found in 1980 pressed between the pages of a bible in an opportunity shop on the central coast of NSW. (AWM REL/05533)

An illustrated card with a picture of two male soldiers holding Australian flags under a Union Jack and the heading 'ANZAC'.

Commemorative card printed with a message from the King. Before legislation was introduced during World War I to restrict use of the word 'Anzac', commercial commemorative products using the word were being produced and distributed. (John Oxley Library, State Library of Queensland, image 196469)

A baby sitting in a wooden rocking chair.

By 1916, the Commonwealth government had passed legislation against commercial use of the word 'Anzac', legislation which is still in force today. Such a restriction did not apply to personal use for family names. In 1918, Gallipoli veteran Thomas Drane from Forbes, NSW, wrote to the Commonwealth Attorney General asking permission to name his first child George Anzac Drane. The Commonwealth Government raised no objection, and Drane went on to give each of his three sons the middle name 'Anzac'. In 2010, descendants of Thomas Drane are continuing the family tradition. (Photos courtesy of Drane family collection)

A family portrait with a man, woman, young child and baby.

By 1916, the Commonwealth government had passed legislation against commercial use of the word 'Anzac', legislation which is still in force today. Such a restriction did not apply to personal use for family names. In 1918, Gallipoli veteran Thomas Drane from Forbes, NSW, wrote to the Commonwealth Attorney General asking permission to name his first child George Anzac Drane. The Commonwealth Government raised no objection, and Drane went on to give each of his three sons the middle name 'Anzac'. In 2010, descendants of Thomas Drane are continuing the family tradition. (Photos courtesy of Drane family collection)

A poster with a male soldier holding a rifle.

Enlist in the Sportsmen's Thousand: this recruiting poster produced in 1917, when reinforcements were needed for the Western Front in France and Belgium, draws on the popular fame of Albert Jacka VC. It was said that one of the reasons he was such a good soldier, and had such a fighting attitude, was that he had been a boxer before the war. The campaign to enlist sportsmen was fuelled by a belief that by playing sport, young men developed the particular skills and qualities that would be useful in the armed forces. (AWM ARTV00026)

A large gathering of people to an outdoor religious service.

Anzac Day service, Gallipoli, 25 April 1923. The tradition of commemorating the Gallipoli landings of 25 April 1915 began the following year, in 1916, when the anniversary was marked by civilians and servicemen in Australia and overseas. After the war, Anzac Day services began to be held near the site of the original landings, and the numbers attending the commemorations at Gallipoli grew significantly in the years leading up to, and after, the turn of the 21st century. (AWM H15729)

A large group photo of men with a few children sitting in front of a war memorial.

First reunion, Hobart, 18 October 1929, of the first Tasmanian contingent, AIF. These men sailed from Hobart on 20 October 1914 in the transports Geelong and Katuna and it is likely that virtually all of them became Anzacs. Many veterans joined ex-service associations after their return to Australia and maintained close ties with the men with whom they had served. (AWM P00210.002)

A large group photo of men with a few children sitting in front of a war memorial.
A different caption

Copyright