FOOTNOTES
[1] The first Indian troops to reach Egypt arrived on October 30, the New Zealanders on November 30, and the Australians on December 2.
[2] It is a striking testimony to the fitness of the Lancashire Territorials—mainly recruited from large manufacturing towns—that, though the men had undergone no more than a hurried medical examination to ascertain their fitness for home service, very few broke down under the rigorous training in Egypt.
[3] Some declared that what the frogs said was “Bivouac! Bivouac!” A member of a new draft going up Krithia Nullah for the first time by night was heard to say: “I wish these ’ere b⸺ ducks ’d shut up; they’ll give away uz position.”
[4] General Bailloud, commanding a French Division, informed General Douglas that his men were always shelled when bathing in Morto Bay until, soon after the arrival of the 52nd Division, a kilted battalion went down to bathe, and from that day the firing ceased. He concluded that the Turks were under the impression that the wearers of “skirts” must be women, and, being of a gallant disposition, they refrained from shelling the bathers.
[5] Holberton could trounce an offender very effectively, but his comments never rankled nor ever affected the admiration and affection in which he was held. While Adjutant and at the same time O.C. of his battalion, he placed a newly-joined subaltern in charge of a working-party. An hour later, to his surprise, he saw the party returning from the task. “You don’t mean to say you’ve finished?” he said to the sub. “No, sir, but the men said they were tired and would work better after a rest and tea.” “Yes,” said Holberton, “they wanted to find out if they had to deal with an officer or a d⸺ fool! Now they know.”
[6] Was there ever a ship that lived through such shelling as this old hulk was subjected to for the period of nine months during which she lay aground at “V” Beach? Or on whose decks so much blood had been shed? The sale of the River Clyde to a Spanish firm at Malta seems hard to justify and shows a regrettable lack of imagination.
[7] Padre Kerby read the Burial Service over nearly one thousand graves of the Manchesters in Gallipoli.
[8] One man, indeed, tried to cultivate friendship with a horned viper. He had actually tied a string to its tail—how he managed this goodness only knows!—and was showing it round when it rose in its wrath and bit him. The fact that he was near the M.O.’s tent saved him, but he was left with a “dud” finger for life. All sorts of queer pets, lizards, tortoises, praying-mantis, etc., were kept by the men when their units were stationary, and one of these—a large lizard—proved to be of a rare species, and found an honourable refuge in the Cairo Zoo. Desert mice and rats of various kinds abounded, and were often tame and amenable, but of larger animals only a few gazelles and, once, an Egyptian wild-cat, were seen. Nearly every cookhouse acquired a pet goat, the diminutive black one of the 10th Manchesters being the most admired of those. The 6th L.F. goat “joined up” at Imbros and saw service in Gallipoli as well as in Sinai.
[9] The 42nd did not regard as a happy compliment to their marching prowess the fact that while the troops of other divisions were occasionally allowed to go by train, they had always to walk. A Tommy, home on leave, got into conversation with an Australian in a London bus. “Are you 42nd Division?” asked the Australian, who had been in the desert in 1916. “That’s so,” the Lancastrian replied. “Well,” drawled the other, “why don’t you get out and walk?”