"Would the whistle never blow?
"Now their eyes were rolling and their breath was coming in long, rhythmical sobs. The groaning sound of it was quite audible; in another minute they would have been up on their feet, dancing their wild war dance. But then came the signal; and Hell was let loose.
"'Aké, Aké,' they shouted, 'we fight for ever and for ever.' Up to the first trench they swept, and we gave them the right of way. It was their privilege. I could hear some of them yelling, 'Kiki ta Turk' ('Kick the Turk'). Those were the fellows who had kept on their heaviest boots, and meant to use their feet. God help the Turk who got a kick from a war-mad Maori.
"Our own blood was up; I know mine was. We were not far behind them to the first trench, and you never saw such a sight in your life. The Turks had been bashed to death; there is no other word for it. We got up to them at the second trench, where there was a deadly hand-to-hand going on. Some of them had broken their rifles and were fighting with their hands. I saw one Maori smash a Turk with half-a-hundred-weight of rock he had torn up. I don't remember much more, because now I was in it myself. That is why I am here.
"I don't know anything more at first hand. I hear a good many of them came back, though I shouldn't have thought it possible. I am also told they were very pleased with themselves, as they have had good reason to be. The Turks who escaped from them will not wait another time when they hear the Maoris coming; that I'll answer for. And you can hear them coming all right."
Through the gully so opened, and through one parallel to it, the New Zealand infantry now moved to the attack on the height of Chunuk Bair. They met fierce opposition, but drove the Turks before them up the slopes, and eventually reached the crest of a ridge immediately below Chunuk Bair itself, known as Rhododendron Ridge. In this position they were well established on the morning of August 7.
The Auckland Mounted Rifles, the Maoris and the Indian Mountain battery now joined them, with some British troops, and before daybreak on August 8 they assaulted the height of Chunuk Bair. In that gallant climb their loved leader Colonel Malone was killed, and many another brave New Zealand officer. But nothing could stop them, and in the face of a furious fire above them they actually scaled to the summit and dug in upon the crest. That night they held what they had so painfully won.
No words can paint the gallantry of the fighting of the four days that followed the night of August 6. August 9 saw the gallant little band of New Zealanders still in the trench that spans the summit of Chunuk Bair, while a little later the Gurkhas, who had occupied a gully still farther north than those penetrated by the New Zealanders, arrived on the crest of 971 itself.
From that point of vantage the bold pioneers could see all they had striven for through many weary weeks of constant fighting. Away to the south-east were the forts of the Narrows. At their very feet ran the road of communication, which leads from Gallipoli town to the main Turkish position at Achi Baba. They could see the trains of mules and the transport vehicles passing along this road. The goal of their efforts was there, in their full sight.
Right and left, on higher crests, were the Turks in force, determined to drive them from their post of vantage. Desperately the New Zealanders hung on to what they had gained, until support should come. The history of that attempt to hold a hilltop is one of the most glorious in all the annals of war. Some day the world will know how sixteen New Zealanders kept a long section of trench against a whole host of enemies for three hours. If the desperate valour of the men of New Zealand, and of their Gurkha friends, could have conserved the advantage, it would never have been lost.