ABOARD THE HOSPITAL SHIP MAHENO.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXVII, Issue 1484, 11 December 1915, Page 3

ABOARD THE HOSPITAL SHIP MAHENO.

INTERESTING NARRATIVE BY FATHER SEGRIEF. We are privileged to reproduce portions of a most interesting letter written by the Rev Father Segrief, of Wellington, one of the chaplains aboard the hospital ship Maheno, written from Anzac Bay, Gallipoli, under date September 24th : (Continued from our last issue.) On Friday afternoon, according to arrangements, notice of which we had received, the ships began a heavy bombardment of the Turkish lines on our extreme left. Five hundred shells were put into some four lines of trenches, which, with their occupants should have been pulverised. But when our unfortunate Colonial troops by all admitted the finest on the peninsula, which claim, their work amply justifies were ordered out to charge the shattered trenches, they were met with a withering fire from rifles and machine guns. Some of the lads told me the ground ahead simply poured forth Turks, which mowed our lads down by hundreds, the Conuaughts came up in support, but they, poor fellows, met a like fate. The charge went ou, the first, second and third lines of trenches were captured with awful slaughter of the *eneray, .even the fourth line was reached, but our brave boys were too exhausted and too few to hold it, so retired to the third line. Thus their object was attained, namely, the straightening out and consolidation ot our lines. It was a great and very necessary work done, but the price in killed and wounded was enormous. Almost all of the engagement we could see from the ship, the gun and rifle fire was uproarious and just one continuous and tremendous din. The New Zealanders and Australians with the Connaughts carried through the charge. Our men have borne themselves magnificently. Here New Zealanders and Australians are all one of the same crowd. If you speak with Australians they simply crush the New Zealanders down with praise ; while the New Zealanders can’t find words enough to express their admiration ot the Australians. The spirit of Iriendliness between the two big lots is admirable. Of course they are no longer distinct—they are inter mixed and act as one big unit — I should not say big for the losses among them have been appalling; I should like to know what number your casualty list stands at to-day; vastly below the reality I am sure. The finest and most reliable body ot men out here —any job requiring initiative, bravery and endurance is surely entrusted to the Colonials. While this is certainly a great admission and an honour done to them, they—poor fellows —have paid all too dearly in killed and wounded for the reputation they have earned. Their name will live in history we are told, but ' to-day the hills of Anzac are littered with their unburied corpses. There is a place up there called “Dead Men’s Ridge,” for they say the spur is thick with strewn corpses. No words can exaggerate the state of things. I speak the truth when I say that a battaliou of Australians, a thousand strong, utterly melted away under the withering fire of machine guns, of which the Turks have incredible numbers. The lads say every Turk has a machine gun and every officer two. We have about two per thousand and not near so good or light as the enemy's. Their snipers are often armed with machine guns, and they pick off dozens of men daily, especially when going from the trenches to the rest gullies or to the beach. It is strange but quite true the nearer to the Turks the safer one is. The trenches are so deep and so close together that rifle fire is of no use, in places they are only 20 yards apart; this is quite common, a case is on record where they are distant only five yards. In such circumstances the fighting is done by band grenades or bombs—steel shells the size of a cricket ball filled with high explosives —and fired by a fuse, when lighted they splutter away for five seconds before bursting. The throwers are clever at their work and time things to a nicety when to sling their missiles. Often bombs land in our trenches and the lads to save themselves grab them and hurl them back at the Turks if possible. When the bombs explode they inflict hideous wounds, often blowing off a limb and account for a great many of the casualties. These bombs are used much at night and the men in the two opposing lines of trenches keep themselves amused throwing bombs. In each trench men are told off to smother bombs by

throwing over them blankets, overcoats, or best ot all sandbags. These keep down the splinters and save many, but many are hurt by being buried when a shell hits the front of a trench and tumbles it in on top ot the lads. The sandbags, too, are often pushed in and bruise a man badly if they fall on him. None are safe —at the front, in the rest gullies, on the beach —all are subjected to a continual shelling by shrapnel, and during last week a Taubc aeroplance did quite an amount of execution by dropping bombs. We saw the machine doing the deadly work. We have seen many strange things since arriving in these regions, aeroplanes, seaplanes and submarines, captive balloons, destroyers, monitors, cruisers and battleships galore ; to say nothing ot a fleet of trawlers, mine-sweepers, store ships, transports and hospital ships. Well, to go back a bit, I said a big engagement began about 4 o’clock on the afternoon alter we reached An/.ac. At seven that evening the effects ot the heavy firing we had .heard and seen were brought home to us, when a steam pinnace towing three barges of wounded came alongside. There were over So men on stretchers, all badly hit. Along the side of the ship, high up on the upper deck, large wooden crosses holding a score of red lights have been greeted as the best means of identification for hospital ships. The light from these played down upon the barges and cast a most ghastly palor over the upturned faces of the sufferers. The effect was weird in the extreme, more like a scene from Dante’s Inferno than real life. The stretchers were quickly transferred from the barges through the port doors. In a space there, each casualty was classified and taken off to the proper wards. The poor lellows were, for the most part, in a very ragged state and all were fearfully dirty. Water is too precious ashore to be wasted on washing, they can scarcely get enough to drink. It is brought by boat from Greece. (Continued in our next issue.)