FIGHTING AT THE DARDANELLES

Taihape Daily Times, Volume 8, Issue 7, 10 January 1916, Page 3

FIGHTING AT THE DARDANELLES

A ROUND OF THE TRENCHES. SOME: TURKISH SHELLING. MORTARS A|ND CATAPULTS. A STORM AND ITS EFFECT. (From Malcolm Ross, Official War Correspondent with the N.Z. Forces). GALLIPOLI PENINSULA, Nov. 7. We were awakened in the early dawn hy the Toud reports of ships’ guns. “Dirty Dick” was at his work again, and no sooner had we finished breakfast than the- morning hate began. The 6-inch howitzer and the “seventy-five” tr'4e)l to stir us up again—and failed to do so. Some few of the staff came out of their sandbagged walled and tarpaulin-roofed offices tod see where the shells are falling; others go placidly on with their work. Of late the Turk has been a little more prodigal with his heavier ammunition. Bulgaria’s intervention, the long-promised landing of a German army irt Servia to link up : w ith the Turkish army 'and the hope of munitions from Krupp’s, were no doubt accountable for the "'change. Lord Kitchener, realising the situation, had sent a message to the troops warning them that they might be subjected tc a heavier bombardment than formerly, and advising them to dig. But the hold-up of the Germans on the Servian frontier, the landing of the Allies at Salonika, and the likelihood of further assistance to the Serbians from Russia, had again altered the complexion cf affairs, so that the Turk once more had to begin to husband his store of shells. The morning hate was therefore of short duration. Like the evening hate, it was also ineffective; but there was always the uncomfortable feeling that the Turkish gunner might get one in.

IN THE ANZAC ZONE. . After breakfast, in company with the General, Colonel Rhodes started on an extensive round of the trenches, extending over several days. The first day’s visit was to Anzac, up the ridge over which the New Zealanders swept on to Plugge’s Plateau on the memorable 25th April. The old Turkish trenches and the wooden crosses on the graves of some of the (New Zealand Artillery are interesting reminders of the first days of the fighting. Thence our route lay via Shrapnel Gully and Monash Valley to the celebrated Quinn’s Post, past an Indian camp and a little cemetery with small wooden crosses and shellcases ever the graves of officers and soldilers from many parts of the Empire. We halt where General Bridges received his mortal wound at a spot where shrapnel claimed many a victim. As we proceed up the valley a warning notice reads. “Danger! Keep to the -S'ap.’” Away on the heights

to the right the intermitten “tat-tat-tat” of a mountain gun emphasises the warning. BOMBING AND MINING.

At Quinn's we find they are stiil bombing and mining. Though, in mining warfare, the advantage is generally with the attackers, here our men have been too clever for the Turks, and we have more than held our own. The defences are always being strengthened and improved, and though the Turks are only a few feet away, they have never been able, up to this day, to break through. The ground is simply honeycombed with trenches, saps, tunnels, and drives. In places where you proceed gingerly with the flickering light of a candle you might imagine yourself in the catacombs. There are gruesome reminders that add to the illusion.

From Quinn’s we proceed to Pope's —new also greatly strengthened—looking a little anxiously at the opposite ridfie over which we have to pro-' ceed, because, just at the moment, it is being shrapnelled by some wellplaced bursts from the Turkish guns. However, we dive down into a deep gully, holding on by a rope, and thence climb by Bully Beef Track on to Walker’s Ridge and Russell’s Top —points named after two of our Brigadiers. The shrapnel had failed to reach us, and we halted for lunch — with the flies —in an open trench. TRENCH MORTARS. In an embrasure a few feet away some men were experimenting with a Japanese mortar—beautifully ma.de and effective. It is worked very much in the same way as a howitzer, and fires a big bomb with a high explosive bursting charge. You set your brass fuse on the nose of the shell for time or percussion, just as with an ordinary shell, and, having got the right direction and inclination, you pull the string and off she goes. We watched the bomb climb into the air, a little stick being propelled out of the tail ag it climbed upwards, and then with a graceful steep curve towards te Turkish trench 400 yards away. It struck the parapet, a little short, and there was a tremendous explosion as part of the breastwork went up in a cloud of smoke. It was not bad for a first shot, and the men were evidently very pleased with their new toy.

A CATAPULT. At another place in the trenches there was a Garland bomb mortar, which our men say i s not equal to the Japanese one, and, further on, one of the catapult kind. This is a primitive but fairly effective instrument of warfare dating back to earlier times; but is has played an important part in the fighting on the Peninsula. It has a shank made of wood, and the impetus is given to the bomb by reIjSaskig life elastic stranjds of the sling after they have been tightened 1 to the proper tension. Of bombs there are several kinds, including the ordinary jam-tin one manufactured on ! the premises while you wait, and the cricket ball kind which is made of

iron, and round, and is good and safe for throwing - . Along all this line now the fighting is mainly with bombs, with an occasional bit of shrapnel and high explosive thrown in, and the casualties are comparatively few. A “push” in such circumstances by either side must always mean a heavy casualty list. MILES OF SAPS AND TRENCHES. In the Anzac zone there are now miles and miles of saps and trenches and tunnels. Often the trenching and the tunnelling reveal ghastly and unpleasant reminders of the desperate .fighting that enabled us to get and maintain our grip on this part of the Peninsula. Entering one tunnel we cafne upon the booted and trousered leg of a man sticking out of the earth, and a little farther on the tunnel roof revealed the belt and tunic of a dead Turk. He had been dead some months, and rather than.disturb him further they decided to leave him there. Every hour of the day and night men were passing that way, but they took no more notice of the bulging human thing than if it were a boulder in the clay. Between the trenches there were still,bodies —now almost mummified —that had been lying out fro many weeks, yet no one dare go out —for fear of adding to their number —to bury them. Where the Australian Light Horse made their famous charge there were many such. A STORM. That night there was a storm from the south, and a paddle steamer and a destroyer were driven ashore, the one near Anzac, the other at Suvla. The Turkish guns on to the steamer next morning, but made rather bad shooting, and for several days wasted quite a lot of ammunition on her. The sailors had quickly painted the wrecked destroyer khaki to harmonise with the new surroundings, but the enemy in time also noticed her and began shelling. The weather had cleared and the light was perfect; but again some of the shooting was rather indifferent.