At the age of 73, my father wrote to my nephew an account of his experiences in World War 1.
On this day, when all of Australa and New Zealand commemorates the tragic loss of life in the Gallipoli campaign, I am enclosing a section from those memoires by one who was serving in the Royal Field Artillery at tha time.
Fred does not pull his punches in his contempt for the complete cock-up of the planning by the Generals, Admirals and Politicians involved.
This is a long extract from an even longer account of the happenings in the trenches and I apologise for taking up so much space, but I feel that the incredible and pointless sacrifices suffered by the troops of all involved in that abortive campaign should be seen from the viewpoint of those involved.
The dispatch starts in the Mediterranean Sea. Appropriate perhaps in view of the current news emanating from that region:
Fred died in his bed at the age of 93.
Wounded in battle 9 times and awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre for galantry in the Ardennes campaign, I feel that his account of events is worth airing.
Hornspieler.
BTW
If you would like to read Fred's full accouint of WW1 and the ensuing campaign in Mespotamia (Iraq), email me hornspieler@virginmedia.com or PM me and I will send you the full story as a document file..
Hornspieler.
On this day, when all of Australa and New Zealand commemorates the tragic loss of life in the Gallipoli campaign, I am enclosing a section from those memoires by one who was serving in the Royal Field Artillery at tha time.
Fred does not pull his punches in his contempt for the complete cock-up of the planning by the Generals, Admirals and Politicians involved.
This is a long extract from an even longer account of the happenings in the trenches and I apologise for taking up so much space, but I feel that the incredible and pointless sacrifices suffered by the troops of all involved in that abortive campaign should be seen from the viewpoint of those involved.
The dispatch starts in the Mediterranean Sea. Appropriate perhaps in view of the current news emanating from that region:
At the beginning of April we started off again in ships usually one at a time for a still unknown destination. All the Ships still sailing without any Naval Escorts.
On the 15th April 1915 we had just finished a lecture by the CO when the alarm sounded and the CO said "Oh that's a practice alarm due about now." So we went off to get our Lifebelts before reporting at our boat stations. As there seemed to be such a rush of troops down to the decks below and coming up from there my friend (Bombardier A Neale) and I strolled over to the decks below and then saw a torpedo boat about three hundred yards away. As we stood at the rail she raised a red flag with a white crescent on it at her stern. My friend said "That's an Egyptian torpedo boat" and in spite of the fact that he was an Army Schoolmaster in India I said "Not on your life that's a Turkish torpedo boat." We argued for a couple of minutes and while we were looking we saw a dirty black torpedo slither from a torpedo tube and start skimming towards us. I remember saying “who's right now?" and we decided it was time to find a life belt. As there was still a rushing to and fro we went down to the life belt deck by swinging down the open hatch and dropping on the lower deck and having supplied ourselves with a life belt each proceeded to our Boat stations. I have never seen so much chaos as the boat on that ship in my life. I had always grown up in the belief that when a British Troop ship was sinking the troops all formed up in lines on the boat deck and did not move towards the boats until they were given orders and then did move as if they were on the Barrack Square. I believe the Captain of the boat, who as you know is always the Commander of everybody on the ship had given the order “Every man for himself” when the first torpedo was fired, which was before the one I actually saw fired, and the Merchant Seamen Crew had been the first to leave and so left nobody on the ship who had any knowledge of how to lower boats. When I arrived there the soldiers were fighting to get into the boats that were left and crowding them with more than they were supposed to carry and on one occasion I saw our Adjutant draw his revolver and threaten to shoot any man who was not out of the boat within ten seconds. Soldiers who had not panicked were trying to lower the boats which as you know when hung up on the boat deck are a long way from the water. They were so ignorant of how to lower a boat that one end would be let down first and the whole boatload would be shot into the sea. Another boat I saw being lowered when the davits (that's the iron supports which carry the boat hanging in normal times) snapped off at the boat rail and crashed on to the deck full of soldiers, at least half of whom must have been killed.
I eventually got tired of watching the chaos and inefficient lowering of the boats and climbed down into the water by a rope hanging down the side. The water when I entered it was so icy cold I wished I could climb back again. The lifebelt gave me ample support and in fact I kicked my heavy Army Boots off in the water and although I could not swim I struck out for an island I could see in the distance (I found out afterwards it was the Isle of Skyros and was roughly ten miles from where I was struggling in the water)
I managed about 50 yards in 21/2 hours. I was just about all in at the end of the
2½ hours, and if anybody tells you that when you are drowning you see your past life
over again tell them they are liars, well perhaps not that, but at least tell them they don't know what they are talking about, all I saw was that damned island 10 miles away. I was practically unconscious when the last thing I remember was seeing a fat Petty Officer of
the Navy standing up in the bows of a steam pinnace with a boat hook in his hand and I remember him hooking it into the seat of my pants and pulling me towards the boat.
Then I passed out. I came to six hours later in the boiler room of the Cruiser HMS Dartmouth and a sailor sitting alongside me told me he had been there for the whole six hours, taking my pulse frequently and giving me brandy or Bovril every two hours. He said did I feel like a walk on deck and I remember saying I'd walk anywhere except on the Sea.
On deck the Captain of the cruiser came along and asked how I was and
when I said I felt alright he said "We picked up 23 altogether, do you think you are up to looking at the other 22 to see if you can identify them?"
I said I would. I only recognised one who was a very great friend of mine in India, Bombardier Willis. The other's features were so distorted it was impossible to recognise them The Captain said to me "I hear you can't swim a stroke." and when I said "Yes, that's true." he said "Some of you blighters can walk on water when your luck's in." How right he was. Well next day after a night on the cruiser I was rowed back to our ship which was still floating although three torpedoes had been fired at it and apparently through being too near when they had fired they all went under the boat like this
What annoyed me more than anything was that although I had not panicked those people who had made no effort to leave the boat had not wetted their boots even. We lost 51 drowned and amongst them were dozens of chaps I knew well who used to go swimming in some of the strongest running rivers in India. Of course as I said the water was icy cold and the waves were running at 30 feet high. One minute you would be down in the
trough of the sea and next minute 30 feet up on the crest of the wave. They must have died of exposure in most cases and I had kept myself alive by striking out for an island I could not have reached in ten years. That's luck.
We heard afterwards that the HMS Dartmouth had chased the Turkish boat and made it run aground on another island near the area and shot it up and taken the crew prisoners so I had the last laugh. This happened on the 15th April 1915 and we proceeded on to the island of Lemnos, another one of the Greek group of islands. We were there while the Division was completing the collection of ships and then on the 24th April 1915 at night sailed off for what we now knew was our destination "GALLIPOLI". (Episode III -sent 12th June 1964.)
On the 15th April 1915 we had just finished a lecture by the CO when the alarm sounded and the CO said "Oh that's a practice alarm due about now." So we went off to get our Lifebelts before reporting at our boat stations. As there seemed to be such a rush of troops down to the decks below and coming up from there my friend (Bombardier A Neale) and I strolled over to the decks below and then saw a torpedo boat about three hundred yards away. As we stood at the rail she raised a red flag with a white crescent on it at her stern. My friend said "That's an Egyptian torpedo boat" and in spite of the fact that he was an Army Schoolmaster in India I said "Not on your life that's a Turkish torpedo boat." We argued for a couple of minutes and while we were looking we saw a dirty black torpedo slither from a torpedo tube and start skimming towards us. I remember saying “who's right now?" and we decided it was time to find a life belt. As there was still a rushing to and fro we went down to the life belt deck by swinging down the open hatch and dropping on the lower deck and having supplied ourselves with a life belt each proceeded to our Boat stations. I have never seen so much chaos as the boat on that ship in my life. I had always grown up in the belief that when a British Troop ship was sinking the troops all formed up in lines on the boat deck and did not move towards the boats until they were given orders and then did move as if they were on the Barrack Square. I believe the Captain of the boat, who as you know is always the Commander of everybody on the ship had given the order “Every man for himself” when the first torpedo was fired, which was before the one I actually saw fired, and the Merchant Seamen Crew had been the first to leave and so left nobody on the ship who had any knowledge of how to lower boats. When I arrived there the soldiers were fighting to get into the boats that were left and crowding them with more than they were supposed to carry and on one occasion I saw our Adjutant draw his revolver and threaten to shoot any man who was not out of the boat within ten seconds. Soldiers who had not panicked were trying to lower the boats which as you know when hung up on the boat deck are a long way from the water. They were so ignorant of how to lower a boat that one end would be let down first and the whole boatload would be shot into the sea. Another boat I saw being lowered when the davits (that's the iron supports which carry the boat hanging in normal times) snapped off at the boat rail and crashed on to the deck full of soldiers, at least half of whom must have been killed.
I eventually got tired of watching the chaos and inefficient lowering of the boats and climbed down into the water by a rope hanging down the side. The water when I entered it was so icy cold I wished I could climb back again. The lifebelt gave me ample support and in fact I kicked my heavy Army Boots off in the water and although I could not swim I struck out for an island I could see in the distance (I found out afterwards it was the Isle of Skyros and was roughly ten miles from where I was struggling in the water)
I managed about 50 yards in 21/2 hours. I was just about all in at the end of the
2½ hours, and if anybody tells you that when you are drowning you see your past life
over again tell them they are liars, well perhaps not that, but at least tell them they don't know what they are talking about, all I saw was that damned island 10 miles away. I was practically unconscious when the last thing I remember was seeing a fat Petty Officer of
the Navy standing up in the bows of a steam pinnace with a boat hook in his hand and I remember him hooking it into the seat of my pants and pulling me towards the boat.
Then I passed out. I came to six hours later in the boiler room of the Cruiser HMS Dartmouth and a sailor sitting alongside me told me he had been there for the whole six hours, taking my pulse frequently and giving me brandy or Bovril every two hours. He said did I feel like a walk on deck and I remember saying I'd walk anywhere except on the Sea.
On deck the Captain of the cruiser came along and asked how I was and
when I said I felt alright he said "We picked up 23 altogether, do you think you are up to looking at the other 22 to see if you can identify them?"
I said I would. I only recognised one who was a very great friend of mine in India, Bombardier Willis. The other's features were so distorted it was impossible to recognise them The Captain said to me "I hear you can't swim a stroke." and when I said "Yes, that's true." he said "Some of you blighters can walk on water when your luck's in." How right he was. Well next day after a night on the cruiser I was rowed back to our ship which was still floating although three torpedoes had been fired at it and apparently through being too near when they had fired they all went under the boat like this
What annoyed me more than anything was that although I had not panicked those people who had made no effort to leave the boat had not wetted their boots even. We lost 51 drowned and amongst them were dozens of chaps I knew well who used to go swimming in some of the strongest running rivers in India. Of course as I said the water was icy cold and the waves were running at 30 feet high. One minute you would be down in the
trough of the sea and next minute 30 feet up on the crest of the wave. They must have died of exposure in most cases and I had kept myself alive by striking out for an island I could not have reached in ten years. That's luck.
We heard afterwards that the HMS Dartmouth had chased the Turkish boat and made it run aground on another island near the area and shot it up and taken the crew prisoners so I had the last laugh. This happened on the 15th April 1915 and we proceeded on to the island of Lemnos, another one of the Greek group of islands. We were there while the Division was completing the collection of ships and then on the 24th April 1915 at night sailed off for what we now knew was our destination "GALLIPOLI". (Episode III -sent 12th June 1964.)
Fred died in his bed at the age of 93.
Wounded in battle 9 times and awarded the Belgian Croix de Guerre for galantry in the Ardennes campaign, I feel that his account of events is worth airing.
Hornspieler.
BTW
If you would like to read Fred's full accouint of WW1 and the ensuing campaign in Mespotamia (Iraq), email me hornspieler@virginmedia.com or PM me and I will send you the full story as a document file..
Hornspieler.
Comment