BATTLE PICTURE

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2664, 8 January 1916, Page 12

BATTLE PICTURE

TAKING AN ENEMY TRENCH "FIX BAYONETS." _. The following graphic description of a hattle at the Dardanelles has been written by Private Melville Humphries in a letter to a friend in Sydney, says the "Sydney Morning Herald": — "First you must imagine an area completely covered with low green holly bushes., A beautiful day, with the bird's singing like mad tilings, and cverytmng at peace except man. Not 'a movement is seen anywhere, though thousands of your mates are lying along tile top, of a ridge at your right and left, waiting for the word to open fire, and you know that soniffwliere out in front, about 1400 or 1500 yards away, is the main Turkish trench. The slopes downward for perhaps 200 yards, then a ridge of a few feet high, iliat will be our next position— if we get there. Then over the ridge the ground slopes down again for 500 yards,' when it rises abruptly at a slope of one in sis for a height of 300 feet. On that slope somewhere we Know that there are thousands of Turks waiting for us to move, when they will send such a, hail of lead on to our position as will make us dig our noses deeper 111 the dirt. The word comes at last. '\\e must advance in ten minutes. Then with a deafening roar our 18-pounders, howitzers, and big and small artillery open on the enemy's trenches and gun emplacements. Every man. cranes his neck and lifts his heacl to see what effect our guns are having on the enemy. A low murmur of conversation comes from the line of waiting men, broken now and then by a little cheer as one of our guns puts 111 several good shots and silences for ever a Turkish gun and its crew. But soon the Turks have got the range, and large and small shell shriek and howl overhead in search of our guns. Presently fivo shells in quick succession burst, ahead of us. A Turkish battery has found the rango of our infantry lines. Now for the ordeal. Perhaps tho sun glinting on one of our bavonets has put tho showaway. Or perhaps an unlucky Australian has sprung to his feet when shot. At any rats shrapnel and' common shell start coming pretty thick. An empty shrapnel shell thuds into a bush a few : yards behind us. 'That's close,' says : one of my mates. The rest of us smile a sickly smile and lie still. "The order comes at last, 'Nine hundred yards. Open fire.' A rattle of riflo bolts, then one or two shots; then the whole line breaks into a roaring, deafening din of rifle and machine-gun fire. The Turkish infantry, too, have opened fire, and their bullets whistle and hiss about our ears. The man on my right quietly drops his rifle, and his head falls on his arm. A bullet has found his brain. A mate of mine pushes up beside me with a smashed forearm. I dress his wound hurriedly, and lie crawls back behind the firing line, and then makes for the dressing station half a mile away. Tho man lying to the left of me suddenly leaps to his feet, gives a horrible cry, and falls back on to my legs, where he expires. , I, kick him off, and'crawl a little to the right over the dead man lying there just as a bullet goes 'phut' into the ground where I was lying a few seconds befoie.

"My rifle by this time is too hot to 'held. I put it down and take tho dead man's gun alongside me, but find it is useless. A bullet has smashed tho nose cap' clean off. "The casaulties by now are- pretty heavy, so the first line reserves are called up. They arrive, and lie down wherever they ca: get cover, and the firing gets hotter. An officer comes up to me on his hands and knees. He is cool, but his voice has a curious, hard ring, and lie has a bandage on his arm. -He points to a clump of trees about 1500 yards away, and says: 'There's an enemy machine gun clump of trees. Give 'em ten rounds at 1600 yards.' I direct my fire on the point , named, and see th; dust fly off a white patch of ground behind tlie trees. 'Too far, sir. I'll try 1500 yards.' After ■ six shots the infernal clatter of that machine gun stops. At the eighth shot a Turk shows himself for a second and dives across an open space of a few yards, and is promptly knocked over by our boys. 'Well done,' says the officer, and goes away, to be killed ten minutes later in tho advance. . "At last tho word) comes down tho lino, 'Prepare to advance,' Every man tightons his equipment and gets ready to rise. 'Tlie line will advance. Eiso!' shouts an officer. uWo leap up and start to move forward; slowly at first. Then as we get into some sort, of line wo get better heart and go like fiends, till 'Down' comes the order, and every man falls flat on his face, glad of a few moment's' rest. This advance is continued by fits and starts till we are only 200 yards from the enemy. Already wo are being thinned, out deplorably, and now men begin to fall faster. A bullet chips the side of my hand, but I didn't feel it until I saw the blood. I feel a sharp tug at my tunic as a bullet tears two -big boles in my pocket. Wo lie down again; this time for a long spell. We know what/ the next order will be. It conies at last, 'Fix bayonets!' and a thousand bayonets glitter in the sun as we quiotly slip, them on the studs. "Every man is now expecting the last command—the last 1 for ever for many of us. Wo are all the time under a murderous fire from their infantry trenches, thoir artillery being engaged keeping our reinforcements back. " 'Chargol' The order is roared from platoon to platoon, company to company. battalion to battalion, and with a yell like madmen we spring up and charge. No one thinks of death. There is no time to think of anything except running, and we do it with a will. The Turks are only fifty yards off now, thirty yards, twenty, and next moment we are on to them.' A big Turk blazes at me, and misses. The next second he. is on my bayonet. I don't know how lie got there, but there is no time to wonder. Another Turk is aiming from behind a bush, when he quietly collapses all of a heap, as an Australian bullet reaches him. "After what seems an eternity (in reality about half a minute) we see the enemy in full flight 011 our left. The Turks opposing us also see it, and take to their heels, but very few got away. A few more rounds and. wo are in possession of their trench, and the battle is won. But at what a cost! Hundreds of our fellows aro dotting t'he slope behind us, and many of them will never rise again,