I have begun work on editing my late grandfathers World War 1 diaries. The first installment. I think that his Gallipoli Specialof 2nd. June, 1915, makes fascinating reading... LT COL Arthur Henson SMITH. (1890-1973). Educated at Camberwell Grammar, Melbourne, Victoria, Australia. Army Number VX13994 Regimental Number 1539. Enlisted in CMF 1910 as Gunner no. 2, 20th Battery AFA Windsor Vic. Discharged as Corporal (Bombadier) 8 November 1913. Occupation 1914 given as a clerk. Enlisted in the 1st AIF, 31 August 1914 as Corporal (Bombardier), 2nd Brigade Artillery (Ammunition Column). Embarked for Egypt 20 October 1914 aboard the Transport A27 Southern. Landed on Gallipoli 26 April 1915. Promoted in the field on Gallipoli Sergeant 2 Aug 1915, Battery Sergeant Major 12 Sept 1915. 9 May 1916 to France 3rd Army Field Artillery Brigade. Commissioned Lieutenant 12 March 1916. Captain 1 October 1917. 1918 CO 103rd Howitzer Battery. Returned to Australia 6 Jan 1919 aboard HMTS Lakoda. Embarked at Sydney on SS Willochra on 27 May 1919 for Special Duty (Sea Transport). OIC POW return to Germany. A notable prisoner was Freiherr (Count) von Lueckner, who had been the Captain of the German raider, the See Adler and had been captured in Fiji about 1916. Arthur and he became firm friends. Finally returned to Australia 23 Sep 1919. Demobilised 21 November 1919. Served in CMF 1924 to 1931 (2nd Medium Brigade AGA CO 6th Battery). Enlisted in 2nd AIF 1 May 1940 as Major. Seconded 2/9 Field Regiment then 1 Aust Corps Staff. Promoted Lieutenant-Colonel. OC Port Moresby Sub-Base Area January 1943 to May 1944. Discharged 1May 1945. Rank Lieutenant-Colonel. In civilian life, managed Emerald Country Club before World War 2, and the Barwon Heads Golf Club after the War. (see World War 1 Diary) Address in later life: 14 Redcourt Avenue Armadale Vic 28/5/1915 (Special) (Gallipoli) Although I understand you don’t know at present, where we are, no doubt when you get this, you will know that we are on the Gallipoli Peninsula (what part I am not allowed to say but that is of no significance). This is a very brief description of the beach covered with dense, prickly scrub. I will attempt to detail our movements to here. After four months of very varied experiences in the weird and wonderful country of the pyramids, we were on the eve of Sunday 4th April, called into the Mess Room at Mena (AIF Camp Egypt) , to get once again, the “Dinkum Oil”. That is the general term now, right through the force that is applied to any official information. During our stay in Mena, we had so many occasions, received false alarms that we were off to the front. We began to wonder if we would ever get to the war. At any rate, on this particular evening we were given orders for embarkation. On Monday 5th, we were awakened at dawn by a terrific dust storm that blocked or view three yards away. We have had some extremes in weather but the 5th of April was the dead limit. The storm raged throughout the day, during which we packed kits, wagons etc. By the end of the day, every man’s eyes were blood-shot and sore. Half the Sahara was in our eyes, ears, noses and mouths and down our backs. At about 2-00pm, we were in the Mess Room discussing our future experiences, hopes, chances of being shot or winning a VC and other such like trinkets, when the news came through that we were to “stand fast” for twenty-four hours owing to a blockage at Alexandria. There was a fair amount of disappointment at this news but as it was only for a day, we were resigned to the circumstances. At three o’clock, the gloom was lifted slightly by the arrival of a couple of bags of mail. No mail for me to my disappointment. Wednesday 7th at 11-00am the news came through to “stand fast” for ANOTHER twenty-four hours. As a slight consolation, a Brigade Sports Meeting was arranged, bur once again my good fortune deserted me. I was in charge of the Guard so could not watch the sports. I was relieved at 6-00pm and went to the pictures. Thursday 8th, went for a ride out to the old cemetery to exercise the horses. 4-00pm, left Mena Camp forever I hope. Goodbye to the Pyramids. Entrained horses and vehicles at Cairo and left at 11-00pm, arriving in Alexandria at 4-30am. Friday 9th, loaded our Transport A21 (the Armadale). Saturday 10th, woke up at about 5 am to find that we were out at sea. At last we had left the glamour of the cities of Egypt. We have got away from that dread word “Baksheesh”! What a great feeling there was amongst the men. Now they realised there was really a possibility of “something doing”. There was great heart in their work and not a word of complaint. Sorted ourselves and our harness out and then fixed all our ammunition ready for business. Pay night and an occasion for a concert on the troop-deck where there was a piano. Sunday 11th, passed various very barren islands in the Aegean Sea. Monday 12th, getting up at 5 am, we saw the Island of Lemnos ahead of us. We anchored in the splendid harbor of this island at 7 am and so joined a huge fleet of other transports. Also there was a fleet of warships of all classes and nationalities. Up till Saturday 17th, nothing very eventful took place. On Saturday, a part of us went ashore. I enjoyed the trip very much. It was an ideal day, with hardly a ripple on the water. The island is just an undulation tract of grass wherever you look, except for the areas under cultivation. Some miles away, possibly on another island, a snow-capped mountain made a splendid background to the scene. Dotted all over the island are quaint old houses and windmills, grazing sheep, cattle and ponies with luxuriant crops suggesting a scene that might be in France or Holland. Many varied and pretty windflowers cover this wonderful little island. The dress of the inhabitants is very picturesque. The men are dressed just as old time brigands might have been: little black cap, short coat, wide sash around the waist, very roomy bloomers, gaiters and home-made canvas boots. All the inhabitants are Greek. From an elevated point, we could get a splendid view of the wonderful little natural harbour, backed with scores of transports and battleships. In my opinion, this harbour is better than Sydney Harbour, though our NSW comrades would not agree with me. It was great to feel the springy grass under our feet, after four months of the heartbreaking heavy sand of Egypt. We found a splendid level stretch of natural lawn a little way from the beach. Here we picked up sides and had a football match. It was very exciting and keen and some good football was played. The inhabitants lined up and watched the proceedings in blank amazement. After the match, we had lunch and then had a stroll around until evening, when we rowed back to the ship, much benefitted by out picnic. We remained at anchor here until Saturday24th, during which time, a certain interest was caused by submarines and hydroplanes manoeuvering about and more troop ships arriving. On most of these days, I was one of a boat crew rowing the Captain of the ship or our OC about to other boats for orders. I was therefore able to go aboard the Minnawaska, which carries Sir Ian Hamilton (the C in C) and the Arcadia, which carried the Headquarters Staff. Saturday 24th, at 2 pm, we weighed anchor and passed out of the harbour, passing close to the grand old Queen Elizabeth, Triumph, Queen, Majestic, Prince of Wales, Lord Nelson, Swiftsure, Doris, Agamemnon, Buchantem and Jeanne D’Arc, all cleared for action. At 4 pm, we passed Mount Athos, where the world renowned Grecian Monastery looked down over the ocean from a snow-capped mountain. Sunday 25th. The day of my “baptism of fire”. We were awakened at daybreak by the guns of the Prince of Wales, London and triumph booming away at the Gallipoli Peninsula, a few hundred yards in front of us. Nothing could be seen of the Peninsula, about two miles ahead, but rocks and sparse, stunted timber. A line of about twenty battleships spread right along the coastline, about a mile and a half from land. Further out again was the grand old “Lizzie”, streaming up and down the long line, probably directing operations. From the troopship next to us, a captive balloon was sent up to observe the fire. In and out of the lines darted the keen boats. From another transport, four hydroplanes were put over the side and these flew off to affect reconnaissance and to also observe fire. As all the ships were at anchor before daybreak, everything looked peaceful and still, except for the torpedo boats gliding about. A puff of smoke and a “boom”, every now and again, were the only indication that things were not peaceful. Then there broke out a terrible fusillade of rifle fire. This was just at daybreak and signified that our fellows had come into contact with the enemy and were affecting a landing. Next we began to get shells from the Turks all around the transports, some coming unpleasantly close to the Armadale. At about 8 o’clock, barges of wounded told us of the price that had to be paid for the landing. An aeroplane had apparently found that the shells were coming from a fort, since turned out to be Gaba Tepe, for immediately the Prince of Wales and the Triumph steamed right in and enfiladed it from the opposite side, for about half an hour, succeeding in silencing it. The Queen Elizabeth, seeing that her big guns were not wanted here, steamed down to Cape Helles, to lend a hand to the British and French, who were affecting a landing there. All morning, the battleships were playing on the strongly entrenched howitzer batteries in the steep hills, which ran up, almost from the water’s edge. All this time too, our people were landing, though with what success they were meeting with, we could not see, owing to our distance out. At midday, we were ordered to get in as close as possible to the shore and so drop the timber we had aboard over, for the purpose of making a jetty. When we got in, we could plainly see our 1st, 2nd and 3rs Infantry Brigades storming these terrible rough hills. My powerful field glasses made it easy for me to see the brave chaps, climbing through six foot high prickly scrub, under heavy gun and rifle fire, driving the Turks out of trench after trench. The long stream of stretcher bearers could be seen, coming down again, with some of these brave chaps out of action. It was a constant stream. On the beach, the occupants of some of the stretchers were put on a spot aside and covered with overcoats and we knew that those chaps had finished their job. These were Australia’s first quota to the long list of heroes of the Empire. At about 6 o’clock, an aeroplane returned, apparently carrying information on the enemy’s guns, for immediately, every battleship trained its guns to a particular part of the ridge and pounded away as hard as they could, shaking our ship and I believe, the very ocean. It almost deafened us and gave us all splitting headaches. We had to yell at each other to make ourselves heard. I went to bed at 10 pm but awoke at 11 to find that a party of forty-eight was wanted at once to row ashore and help land the field guns. I was not long in getting dressed but even I was just in time to be in the last couple wanted, so eager were the lads to get ashore. It was a miserable night: cold and raining. The orders were vague but we all snatched at least our rifle and ammunition. I also took my iron rations for one day and my greatcoat and was thankful later that I did so. Few had time to even grab their greatcoats. At about 2 am, we reached to shore under continual fire and snipers. We found that the guns had been towed in but as we found out later, we had nearly lost the ground that we had gained in the day and on that account, the guns were sent back and all ship’s boats were sent to the beach in the event of our people being beaten back. We waited in the boats through the miserablest of nights, bullets whizzing all around us. At daybreak, we found that the handful of Australians had held their ground but more by good luck than anything else. Had the Turks really known our strength on that memorable night, we would have undoubtedly been driven into the sea. In the morning we were well entrenched and so fairly safe until reinforcements arrived. Monday 26th. We were ordered to take cover from sniper bullets in the hill, until the guns came in again. As we went along the shore, we had to pass the dead bodies of some of our brave infantry comrades, lying on the beach and the sight made us feel upset though we don’t notice such sights. Even the second day after the landing, we had already become so callous that we could pass such sights without the slightest feeling. At about 10 am, the guns came in and when about twenty yards from the shore, we had to wade into the water under fire from snipers and pull the pontoons with ropes. Then, still under fire from these blighters, using explosive bullets, we had to unload the guns and haul them by hand up the steep hill, which id nine-hundred feet at the summit. Around 11 am, we had the first gun in position. When the first shell was fires, a great cheer came up from the infantry. They look on our field guns as their saviour from the terrible effect of the opposing shrapnel and as a punishment for cutting up our boys. I was in charge of a party of six men, supplying ammunition to the four guns. We had dragged the guns up to this position on the right flank of our line. Our officer, Mr Siddall had been killed. When we got a good supply of ammunition up, I took over Mr Siddal’s gun and stayed there for the afternoon, acting as observer (watching and correcting the fall of shot) and occasionally taking a turn on the gun. During the afternoon, 450 rounds were fired from this gun alone and the range varied from 200 yards to 1700 yards, so the enemy was at no time very far from us. At one time, we covered an attack of our infantry and what a great view we had of our brave chaps charging with fixed bayonets. Unfortunately, the attack was not successful and our chaps were beaten back, with heavy casualties, by a much greater force. At 5 pm, two more batteries were brought ashore and these were dragged up into position. As a big night attack was expected from the enemy, our position was not yet secure, so at 7 pm, we were ordered to take the guns back to the beach. All night we had to keep up the supply of ammunition to the original four guns, which at times were threatened with being over-run. Tuesday 27th. Today at intervals between supplying ammunition, I slipped into the infantry trench and had a few shots with a rifle. At about 4 pm, my six men were quite done, through the strenuous work and could hardly stand up, much less juggle two rounds of 18 pounder shells about the scrubby, steep cliffs, so we were relieved by a party from the shore. Just as we reached the shore, I was sent back because I knew the position of the guns, with a dispatch to Colonel Rosenthal (CO 3rd Army Field Artillery Brigade). To do this, it was necessary for me to crawl across an open space of about twenty yards, on hands and knees, under a hail of rifle fire during which, I was grazed on my hand and over my left eye. When I got back we all had to go into the water up to our necks to bring in ammunition from a barge. After tea, we were taken back along the beach to the Headquarters of our other guns. Here, we had to shift to a new position. We turned into bunk at 3 am and I had my first sleep for four nights. Things being a little quieter on Wednesday, Sergeant Keith George, Sgt. Wheeler, Sgt. Bill Jackson and 1 improved our temporary dugout and so made ourselves as secure as possible. From Thursday 29th to Tuesday 4th of May, things happened very much the same. Heavy artillery duels during the daytime and fierce attacks by the Turks at night. Every morning a long stretch of wounded and some dead would be brought down to the dressing station showing the result of the previous night’s rifle fire. The Turk had various methods to get our men to attack and one worth mentioning is to blow our “charge” on their bugles though I didn’t hear whether the ruse was ever successful. Two of our deadliest enemies were spies and snipers. It is amazing what a number of spies were in our lines- mostly interpreters we had brought with us, but some were Germans under assumed names on our strength. They are I think, all caught now and have paid the penalty of the spy. The snipers have also been pretty well cleared up, though there were a great number behind our trenches and naturally they did an immense amount of damage. One often stopped to wonder after these events if we really deserved the titles “Kitchener’s Rag-Time Army” and “Six bob a day tourists”, conferred upon us by some of our people in Melbourne. Many prisoners have been taken by us up to this date and we have learnt much valuable information from them. We leant that they are told that we shoot all prisoners we take, otherwise many would have given themselves up. Occasionally the peace of the troopships lying a couple of miles out is broken by shells coming over from the forts. One hit a collier causing it to burn, otherwise, no serious damage was done by them. On Tuesday 4th, we had additions to our “home” in the earth, in Sergeant Holgate and Bombardier Bill Evans. This night, I was sent up to take charge of a train of mules laden with ammunition. I had gone in ahead, and as I was on my own, Mister Coe lent me his revolver, lest I should fall over a sniper. The thing was more dangerous than otherwise, as I don’t know that I am very handy with such a weapon. Even if I had occasion to use it, I would only give away my whereabouts to the sniper by the flash. Luckily, on my way up, I met Billie Evans, who came along with me for company and curiously, a sniper did find us out. We didn’t take much notice when a bullet whizzed near us. We put it down to a stray bullet, but when we heard one uncomfortably close to us every couple of yards right across the valley, we concluded that they weren’t strays but were intended. Naturally we were relieved when we got to our destination. On Thursday 6th, Bill Evans had the bad luck to stop a shrapnel bullet in the leg. He was taken onto the hospital ship and we haven’t heard of him since. Friday 7th. Learnt with sorrow that Mister Wolfended, who we had left a hour previously, had been killed. Arthur Mann was wounded the same day with a bullet in the cheek. Sunday 9th. Owing to the deadly shrapnel, orders were give that no ammunition was to be supplied by day. Consequently, we rest in the daytime and at night, supply ammunition, dig gun pits and shift the guns to new locations as required. Owing to our guns not being able to ascertain the address of a couple of Turkish guns somewhere near Gaba Tepe, we continue to receive a goodly amount of attention each day, with a consequent heavy casualty list in our little band of the column. Casualties in my party of originally ten: 2 killed, 3 wounded, 5 still going strong. Thursday 11th. Whilst digging a gun-pit on the skyline, we unearthed the bodies of six Turks. This sort of thing doesn’t add enjoyment to the job. In fact, it’s hard now to dig anywhere, without digging up a victim of the great rush of the first day of the landing. At that time, they were buried everywhere. Outside our trenches are bodies of Australians, Germans and Turks which we cannot get out to bury. Consequently, the stench is by now, awful. We are now coming into the line with methods of warfare employed on the Western Front: Bomb throwing from the trenches and night attacks. Wednesday 12th. The warships renewed their attacks on the Narrows Fords in earnest. There was an incessant pounding away for seventy-two hours without a stop. From here we could plainly see the shells bursting about twenty miles away, especially at night when there was a continuous line of flame indicating the hot time that our unlucky foe must have been getting. Rumoured that HMS Goliath was sunk in this engagement. Tuesday 18th. At about 2 pm this day, the enemy started bombarding our trenches on a wholesale scale and in places, succeeded in making a mess of things. Hostile aeroplanes hovered above us. From this, we gathered that we were to expect an attack. Sure enough, as soon as it became dark, the Turks came at it. All through the night, they made one continuous attack and would only desist when daylight came. The morning showed in front of our trenches, a field literally covered with corpses. Our casualties were heavy, but not worse than would be expected from the fierceness of the fight/ The Turks’ losses were enormous and we took many prisoners. Our 2nd Infantry Brigade returned today from Cape Helles, where they had been taken a week previously to make a landing. This Brigade landed on the first day with 4,600 men, including reinforcements. They are now reduced to barely over a thousand. Wednesday 19th. Coming back to my dugout after a job, I found a visitor had called in the shape of a 4.5 shell which riddled all our tins, boxes, clothing etc. and leaving Sgt. Bill Jackson out of action, with a nasty wound to his back. He had already been taken to the hospital ship, so I don’t know how serious it is. Judging by the hole in his singlet left behind, it is apparently not a very pleasant wound. General Bridges was wounded today and Major Villiers Stewart, of the general Staff, killed. Later, we learnt that General Bridges died the following day, on the hospital ship en-route to Alexandria. Thursday 20th. At about 4 pm, a German Staff Officer and two Medical Officers came out of the trenches, under the Red Crescent. An officer of ours went out to meet them half was. It transpired that the enemy wanted an armistice to bury their dead and to take their wounded in. This was allowed, until it was seen that the blighters were carrying in a few wounded on stretchers but they were also filling stretchers with arms and ammunition from the battle ground. It was then that from our trenches could be seen, two lines of reinforcements, bristling with bayonets, apparently preparing for an attack under the temporary armistice. This, and the fact that darkness was coming on, caused our officer to acquaint the Turks that we have stood the caper long enough and that hostilities would resume in ten minutes time. Some of the Turks had already come out of their trenches behind the cover of unarmed men but as today’s orders rut it, “the device was too thin to deceive a child.” Our machine guns, field guns and rifles were immediately turned on them. That was the beginning of a vigorous attack that lasted all night. Some of the Turks made it as far as our trenches before they were either killed or captured. Not for five minutes during the night, did the battle wane. By daybreak, the Turks drew off and when I had a look over the trenches with a periscope, it was horrible to see the awful carnage. Hundreds and hundreds of dead and wounded Turks covered the ground. Through information received since, it is estimated that Turkish casualties that night reached eight thousand. Later we found out that thirty thousand Turks took part in this particular engagement and nine thousand belonged to the 11th Division, the Flower of the Turkish Army. It would seem that the “flower” must have faded somewhat. On Friday 21st, a white flag was hoisted from Gaba Tepe and when we answered with a white flag, a horseman appeared above the hill. Three of our Staff Officers then went along the beach halfway to Gaba Tepe and planted the flag, whereupon the horseman was joined by two more. All three cantered along the beach to our officers, where they parleyed for half an hour. One of their number was then blindfolded and brought along to our headquarters by two of our officers. Our third officer remained behind with the other two Turkish officers. The Turk who came in was a splendidly dressed, well fed chap and he created a good deal of interest for our boys. He was taken back at night. During this night, another short but brisk attack was made on our trenches but it was easily repulsed. It was during this attack that I saw one of our chaps fire one of the Japanese bomb throwers for the first time. These are our latest acquisitions and can throw a thirty pound bomb, which must prove very fearsome to the Turks. Saturday 22nd. Our Turkish officer again visited us under the white flag. Today all transports cleared out and the battleships and torpedo boats kept darting about all day so as to avoid a possible torpedo from a submarine sighted about nine miles out. A hostile aeroplane appeared above us and dropped bombs without doing much damage. It was subjected to a fusillade of shrapnel from the Navy but on account of its height, it went unharmed. Directly after, one of our planes went up, probably to chase the hostile, which however proved to be too speedy. Our plane, in turn, was subject to a hail of shrapnel from Gaba Tepe but survived. It apparently brought back valuable information, for immediately two battleships and two torpedo boat destroyers went close in to Gaba Tepe and bombarded it like blazes. It is rumoured that their objective was a large body of cavalry coming up, who were blown about severely. On Monday 24th. we awoke to find things singularly quiet and found that an armistice until 4 pm had been declared. This explained the Turks’ visit to us. The reason the Turks wanted the armistice was to bury their many dead. As some of these had been dead for a month, the object was very laudable. Keith George and I put on our field glasses and posed as observers for the artillery and so were allowed outside our trenches. Here we saw parties of Australians and Turks together, mid-way between the trenches. Then along would come a band of Officers representing both sides, examining the heaps and collecting the stuff belonging to their respective sides. Before taking rifles away, the bolts were removed and given to the people opposing. We took all bolts off the Turkish rifles and they took all bolts from ours. It was indeed strange to see the Officers from opposing armies laughing and talking with each other all day, with apparently no malice or ill-feeling. I felt curious to know what subjects they could find to talk about. Whilst and English Colonel and a German Colonel were talking together, a Turkish Officer came along. The latter was probably a General, for the German sprang to attention and they both saluted. He introduced him to our Officer and they again saluted, shook hands and saluted again. Then they laughed and talked together as if renewing old acquaintances. In a couple of hours, each would put the other out of action if opportunity happened. It certainly seemed incongruous. The Turkish General impressed me as being a fine stamp of a man. He was about six feet six inches in height and looked a typical soldier one felt one could admire. The sight of him did much to temper my dislike of the Turks. We went right along between the trenches for about three miles, seeing various interesting sights. We saw the Turks dragging their dead down into the valley where they were burying them all, in one huge trench. Some of the dead were so decomposed that they had to be towed by a rope from ten yards away. The bodies were three times their normal size with faces and hands all blue. Some were mouldy and in a frightful state. I was pleased to note that the proportion of our chaps was slight compared with the Turkish dead. We found some Turkish bombs and hand grenades, some exploded and some not. We saw huge splinters and the horrible effects of the “Jack Johnstons”. The hole made by one of these could accommodate a small cottage. An incident worthy of note, was a Turk “running the rule” over a dead comrade. A German Officer saw him and just beckoned to him. The Turk approached and saluted. The Officer, without a word, just hauled off and banged the looter under the jaw, knocking off his feet, I was surprised to see how near in places, the trenches were placed. One in particular, was no more than fifteen yards from our firing line and the Turks had sapped to within a couple of yards of our trench, probably with the intention of blowing it up. We saw a good many of the enemy’s brilliant 11th Division: “The Pick of the Turkish Army”. They are certainly resplendent as regards their uniform, which is a gaudy blue rigout, very much in contrast to that of the remained of the Turks. The armistice ended at 4 pm and off we went, starting at each other again. It seemed that the night firing was even more willing than usual, perhaps making up for all the time wasted during the day. My party happened to be digging a gun-pit for the 8th Battery, ten yards behind the infantry trench and we were greatly entertained by our chaps firing Japanese bomb-throwers. A bomb would be lobbed into the Turks’ trench and there would follow a terrible rifle fusillade. As the Turks jumped out of the trenches to avoid the effect of our bomb, our rifles and machine guns completed the mix up. Tuesday 25th. Today, we witnessed what to me was one of the most impressive and sad sights imaginable. Early in the morning, it was evident by all the transport, hospital ships and vessels of all descriptions, clearing out of the bay, that a submarine had been sighted in the vicinity. The Triumph, a few torpedo boats and pinnaces were the only vessels left in the bay. These ships kept on the move, with the exception of the Triumph, which was watching Gaba Tepe from about half a mile away. Just at midday, I happened to look right at her, when I noticed a huge cloud of dense smoke rise from her. When it cleared, I noticed that she had a pronounced list to the starboard and we all naturally came to the conclusion that she had stopped a torpedo. Watching her with field-glasses, we saw her gradually lean over until her starboard deck was in line with the water. All pinnaces and torpedo boats were immediately signaled to her aid: the torpedo boats to go alongside and the pinnaces to stand by and pick up the men from the water. Unfortunately, all but one torpedo boat were good distance away but this one ran alongside the doomed warrior. Through the glasses, the men could be seen lining up on the port side and filing onto the destroyer as quietly and in good order as if they were lining up for rations. Before the long line of sailors had filed off, it became evident that the other destroyers would probably not arrive in time, as she was gradually keeling over. The one destroyer could not take the men off quickly enough as only her bow was near enough for them to jump off the Triumph’s stern. Apparently an order was given for the remainder to jump into the water and take their chances on being picked up, for a number of them detached themselves from the line, walked to the bow and dived in. Almost immediately after, without further warning, she keeled over. She steadied herself for a moment on her side, with her torpedo net up in the air and then turned right over, with her keel out of the water. We noticed that her propeller was still revolving, so she must have tried to move, perhaps to dodge the submarine or perhaps to beach herself. The Triumph remained thus, with her bottom out of the water, for about ten minutes, then, suddenly, disappearing altogether. There was no explosion. Everything seemed to happen so calmly and in an almost dignified way. It was exactly twelve minutes from when I noticed the cloud of smoke until she keeled over, not giving her crew much time to look to their safety. To beach her would have meant she would have had to run right under the Gaba Tepe fort. Of course I do not know whether this was attempted. We have not heard officially how many brave chaps went down with her but the general rumour is that they numbered about fifty. The pinnaces stood by for a long time picking up many survivors. It is of some significance that the Triumph had only just returned from Lemnos with fresh supplies of ammunition and coal. The strange part of the disaster was the peaceful conditions under which it happened, hardly a ripple on the water and in so close to shore. The suddenness of it all made it hard for us to realise what had really happened. It was typical of the enemy, that the guns from Gaba Tepe fired on the pinnaces whilst they were engaged in rescuing the drowning. This disaster was intensified by the Majestic receiving the same fate two days later: Thursday 29th. In this case, I believe the crew were all saved as the doomed vessel took an hour to sink. Curiously enough, these two vessels are the most easily spared, the Triumph especially being practically out of commission and yet she has been in most bombardments here and has done some really valuable work. The huge stock of fresh ammunition is, no doubt, a severe loss. For us, both of these ships were the most popular as they have been attached to us and assisted in our particular operations from the first. Many of us have made friends of the crew and Midshipmen from the ships were ashore a good bit, assisting beach parties and taking the wounded to the hospital ships. Friday 28th. Witnessed a wonderful operation by the Field Ambulance people, who amputated a man’s leg above the knee, which had been terrible shattered by a bomb. Though not a pleasant sight, I was fascinated at what these fine doctors are doing to endeavour to save a life on the very verge of finishing. Saturday 29th. Our boys captured a trench on a very valuable position. Please let me know if you get this letter. If you don’t get it, also let me know. 2nd. June 1915 Still whole and happy Tons and tons of love. From Art.
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 07:01:14 +0000
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