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VII. Quinn's Post

—"Defence of Lucknow."—Tennyson.

Rest Gully was a typical "bivvy" camp, leading from Monash. It was one of the numerous pieces of dead ground scattered about amongst the hills, which afforded comparatively good shelter from the shrapnel fire. Originally the slopes had been thickly covered with the dwarfed prickly scrub so common at Anzac, but in the last month this had been very much trodden down. Paths had been worn everywhere through it and "bivvies" constructed, giving that peculiar chequered appearance so common to all the places where men lived at Anzac. "Bivvies" were dwellings of a very primitive nature. Their main functions were to give a protective bank between the occupants and the nearest Turkish sniper or field-gun, to keep out the sun by day and the dew by night. The usual method of construction was to cut a face in the bank, level off the floor and the sides, salvage a couple of oil-sheets, and with salvaged bayonets (of which there were any number) pin these over to form a roof. As far as furnishings were concerned, a happy young couple made it their business to secure as many sandbags as possible from the nearest Engineers' dump, a cut-down tin of some sort for a bath, and one or more petrol tins in which to store water. The home was now complete. The permanent residents—the lice and the flies—took up their abode without further ceremony, while the casual boarders, such as soldiers and centipedes, strayed in as occasion offered.

The Battalion's first night in Rest Gully was disturbed by a great racket from the hills above. The Turks attacked in masses all along the line, but were shot down in hundreds by the N.Z.M.R., who were manning the trenches. The repulse page break page break page 41was of such a bloody nature that the enemy asked for and obtained an armistice on May 24th for the purpose of burying the dead. Firing ceased at 7.30 a.m., and the demarkation parties, commencing from the right, marked off a line down the centre of No-Man's-Land. Auckland supplied a detail of fifty men for the terrible task of burying. Next day the Triumph was sunk in full view of the watchers from the shore.

June 2nd the Battalion went into Quinn's Post.

What the "Dead Man" was at Verdun and "Delville Wood" on the Sonime, Quinn's Post was at Anzac. The ridge on which it was placed covered Monash Gully and Shrapnel Valley. Quinn's had at all costs to be held, for if it fell the vital artery of the Anzac position would be cut. The day of the landing the first rush had gone well beyond the crest, but the attackers had been compelled to fall back until there was nothing behind them but the steep cliff falling down to Monash. With their backs to the wall, the Australians and the Aucklanders had fought back the Turks. In succeeding days. New Zealand Engineers had sapped through to the forward slope and built a firing-line with a better field of fire. So close were front and support lines that the earth from the parados of one was touching the parapet of the second. Tunnels were dug from trench to trench to make the passage secure. In places these tunnels were sapped through dead bodies. The Post was noisome and pestilent. Loathsome and terrible vermin crawled about. The winds blew perpetually from the Turkish trenches across No-Man's Land, where lay the unburied dead. The air was poisoned with the disgusting stench. The Turks had pressed close up. At the nearest point their trench was only fifteen yards away. Neither side would budge an inch. We held on for-dear life—the Turks to retain a vantage point from which they might strike a blow at the heart. In the first two months attack and counter-attack succeeded one another with bewildering rapidity. Once the Turks rushed the front line, but were bombed out after a bloody struggle. On other occasions their front line was lost, and only by desperate efforts could they restore the position. A mine explosion would blow the page 42whole post down into Monash—so they mined. But mine was met with counter-mine. Fifteen yards from trench to trench! During the day every inch of parapet was watched by the snipers of both sides. A second's exposure was instant death. Men stood to all day, bayonets fixed, bombs ready, watching through the periscopes for the slightest movement. A bomb flies up from the enemy post. It is seen in the air. The nearest man runs to the spot and throws an overcoat over it as it touches the ground. Everyone rushes madly away, throws himself flat on the ground, feet toward the coming explosion, and waits with set teeth for the ear-splitting crash. It comes—a blast of devilish noise, a cloud of smoke, dust and flying splinters. The owner of the coat investigates the tatters and finds a plug of priceless tobacco has been ruined. "Damn the;" and then before the words are out of his mouth there is a shout of warning and another explosion. Now the jam-tin bombs packed with explosive, old nails, odds and ends of various sorts are flying back in retaliation. For ten minutes the air is full of smoke and noise. There is a scream from the Turkish line: "Allah! Allah!" Quietness again! But there is a very still figure to be carried out to the little cemetery behind the hill, and a couple of others to be helped down the steep track to the dressing station. It is all in the day's work. The trench is straightened up, more bombs brought in, and some bloody equipment passed out. It is dusk. Between the lights is the most dangerous time, and every man is standing to. Darkness falls. The sentries are up on the fire-step, rifles ready, peering out into the night. Fifteen yards away the Turks are keeping the same anxious vigil. At any moment may come a shower of bombs or a rush of men. At any moment a mine may be sprung and the whole post blown out. The night passes slowly. Every now and again a burst of machine-gun fire sweeps the parapet or crackles overhead. The double report of a Mauser rings clear and sharp, a bullet whistles past, or perchance finds lodgment in heart or brain. Dawn comes at last—another anxious hour—then "stand-down," the rum issue, and breakfast.

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The Turks who manned Quinn's Post were all picked volunteers, every man of whom was promoted corporal. They were men whom it was a great honour to meet.

From June 2nd to 9th the Aucklanders held Quinn's. The first evening five rounds rapid caused a great and harmless retaliation. On the night of the 5th-6th it was decided to carry out an offensive operation against the Turks in the trenches opposite. The Auckland and Canterbury Battalions were or-dered to supply fifty volunteers each for the task. The Auckland men were Lieut. Vear, Hall-Jones, Frank McKenzie, Jock McKenzie, Carlaw, Tilsley, Holland, Black, Coutts (other names unobtainable).

Lieut.-Colonel Brown, then of Canterbury, afterwards of 2/Auckland, was in command of the post and of the whole operation. It goes without saying, therefore, that the preliminary preparations were of the most thorough character. Every man knew precisely what he had to do. All needful material was on the spot. Very quietly the parties of assault filed into the line. Bayonets were fixed and magazines charged. Sup-ports were ready to take over the fire-trench immediately the attacking parties had gone over. Carrying parties were standing by with loads of sand-bags, picks, shovels, bombs, and everything necessary for consolidation.

It is eleven o'clock. The batteries from Plugge's Plateau and Walker's Ridge are firing on the Turk communication sap. The howitzers on Ari Burnu Point join in; so does the little Japanese mortar and a Mountain Battery. In so many seconds the Aucklanders on the left reach the enemy parapet. The loopholes blaze with fire and the bombs come over. The attackers, pressing in, poke their rifles over and fire somewhat at random, with no effect. Then Frank McKenzie hurls a bomb far into the trench. Three loopholes are silent. Another bomb, and another; the fire slackens now, and the left assault party go in with the bayonet. For the first time here is opportunity. At the Landing, at Helles, their mates were shot down helplessly, and never a Turk would come within reach of the cold steel. But now, "a—a—ah," the old primitive blood lust page 44is only thinly buried after all. The Turks are beaten. Their trench is a death-trap. Into it! Into it! "Kill the." The McKenzies, Tilsley, Holland, Black, Melville, Coutts—they are all into the trench, stabbing, shooting, bayonets red with blood. Thirty Turks surrender, and are sent back. Fifty more are dead, and their bodies thrown out of the trench form a rough parapet in front. The carrying parties rush over with filled sand-bags. The Turkish bags are torn from the old parapet and changed over. On the extreme left men work feverishly on the block. It is completed, and two riflemen fire continuously down the dark trench to keep back any of the enemy trying to work up into bombing range. Three Turks emerge from a dug-out and make a desperate attack on those they find nearest. They are very brave men, and die fighting rather than surrender. By two o'clock the work is all complete, and if things have gone well elsewhere, the position will be held. However, it is not to be; for the Australians have failed at Steele's Post, and from there comes an enfilade of machine-gun fire. The Turks are reinforced. Their picked bombing parties are attacking up every communication sap. Dawn breaks, and with the clear light the enfilade from Steele's becomes more deadly. Tilsley endeavours to build up a barrier of sand-bags, but the bags are blown from his hands by bursting bombs. Nevertheless he perseveres until wounded. Frank McKenzie is wounded in the leg, but carries on as cool as if on parade. Men are falling fast. The bombs rain in. There is no chance of stopping the enfilade. The raiders are driven back step by step. Now they are holding only thirty yards of captured line. At nine o'clock came the order to retire. The remnant withdrew through the newly-dug communication trench, and the great raid was over.

There remained but to count the cost. It was heavy enough. Eight killed, forty-eight wounded, and ten missing, as far as Auckland were concerned, Lieut. Vear was wounded, and also Lieut.-Colonel Brown, who for this operation was awarded the D.S.O. The Turkish loss was very much heavier, and a heavy blow was struck at their morale.

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On June 7th-8th another sortie was made, with the object of recovering certain material abandoned in the enemy line. It was a complete failure. The loss of Colonel Brown was very much felt. Orders were changed at the last moment. It was impossible to feel the same confidence in the command. So many of the best leaders had gone down, and men were feeling the strain. The Turkish trench was reached, but the attack was driven off with loss to the attackers of Lieut. Corbett and six men killed, Lieut. Topham and twenty-five wounded, and six missing.

Next day the Battalion was relieved and moved down into local reserve in Monash Gully. Here the Fourth Reinforcements, consisting of fifty officers and two hundred and ninety-three other ranks, joined up.