EVENING “HATE.”
During this period the men not in the front lines were kept busy unloading supplies at the beaches and transporting them to the dumps, road-making, trench and well digging, and performing many other fatigues. The sappers, who had landed on the 9th and 10th of May, had their hands more than full. The 1st Field Company was in bivouac near Morto Bay on the right, and the 2nd Field Company on the left flank near Pink Farm, a solitary building which became a famous landmark and rendezvous during the campaign. They directed the construction of trenches, of lines of rifle-pits in front of the trenches, of dug-outs, and trench-bridges for armoured cars, improvements of the rough country tracks, work on wells and appliances for distribution of drinking water, and the manufacture of bombs. The digging, deepening, and repairing, and, when material was available, the strengthening of trenches was a never-ending task, which had to be performed under fire from artillery, machine guns, and snipers. The soil was mainly a stiff yellow loam, which stood well unrevetted until rain came, when it was transformed into peculiarly bad mud, and the water would not drain away. Gorse and heather, outcroppings of rock, and in one or two sectors, the tough fir-roots, which interlaced and formed a network at varying depths, added considerably to the difficulties.
The Field Ambulances on landing had equal difficulties to encounter, and the way in which they contrived to overcome them and to makeshift successfully afforded proof of their resource. Dressing stations had to be made in clefts in the cliffs, with tarpaulin sheets stretched from boulder to boulder for shelter. The shortage of appliances and equipment during the first weeks was a serious handicap. As soon as their equipment arrived they moved up to the rear of the bivouacs in the centre of the line. The battalion stretcher-bearers had quickly “made good.” They had had to stand the usual chaff while training, but within a week of landing they had become “heroes” in the eyes of their comrades. The Field Ambulances, lacking tackle, had not been able to provide bearers to evacuate from First-Aid Posts, and the battalion stretcher-bearers carried the wounded a distance of three miles to the beach.
Practically everything required for the army in Gallipoli had to be brought from the base at Mudros, the harbour of the Island of Lemnos, nearly forty miles away. Even water was conveyed overseas to supplement the inadequate local supply. Rations, ammunition, equipment, and material of all sorts were transferred from the ships to flat-bottomed lighters and landed, frequently in rough weather, and generally under fire from the Asiatic coast. The small A.S.C. unit therefore did not enjoy much leisure. No. 2 Transport and Supply Company had given evidence of its efficiency, for, though within ten days after landing it had lost forty-one animals killed, it was found that they possessed one more than the original number landed. Many loose mules were straying around, and the company upheld the rather unenviable reputation of which it boasted in pre-war days of never passing any unconsidered trifles by.
A Divisional Supply dump had been established on the top of the cliffs above “W” Beach, and there it remained until the evacuation. Though in a very exposed position and under daily shell fire it enjoyed a remarkable immunity. The rations were “man-handled” from the beaches to this dump, where they were issued to the Regimental Quartermasters, who brought with them their limbers when they had any, but usually A.S.C. limbers took rations to the R.Q.M.’s dump, about a mile inland, where they were divided in proportion to the strength of companies. Here battalion transport men loaded the pack-animals and led them across country for two or three miles to Battalion Headquarters, a short distance in the rear of the trenches, where the stores were unloaded, and the Transport Officer’s responsibility ended. At Battalion Headquarters a party from each company in the trenches was waiting to carry the rations to Company Headquarters, where the C.Q.M.S. issued to the platoon sergeants the share for their men, and the platoon sergeants in due course divided the articles among the section commanders.
Transport and Rations
On paper this simple daily routine is a mere matter of efficient organization, but in active practice it was something more. The Turk had a very good idea of the routes to be taken, and as he fired more vigorously during the night than in the daytime, the transport, whenever possible, moved up soon after noon while he indulged in his siesta. Rations had, however, often to be taken up at night, and casualties among the A.S.C. men and trench ration parties were frequent. None of the pack-animals had previously been under fire. The load must be packed with equal weight on either side or it will not reach its destination, for the mule, though a convinced individualist, has nothing to learn from the best-organized trade union in the matter of direct action or the lightning strike. The loads consisted of full boxes and half-filled boxes of bully-beef tins, tins of biscuits, jars of rum, sacks of loaves, whole cheeses, tins of jam, bags of tea and sugar, sides of bacon, and on mail-days bags of letters and parcels. The correct balancing and securing of such articles, even on a placid, well-trained horse in a paddock at home, where no more disturbing explosions are to be feared than those caused by a distant motor-cycle, demands no mean skill and sense of proportion. But when shells are bursting close at hand, and mules and horses do their best to prevent the loading and dislodge the loads, it is a very different affair. When the loading has at last been accomplished and the animal is asked to move he will probably kick and buck until the load goes to the winds. Both mules and horses behaved uncommonly well under fire. On the rough tracks the mule was far steadier than the horse and could carry an equal weight. He was more particular about the perfect balance of his load, and would not attempt to carry an uneven pack.
Having finally completed the packing and persuaded the animals to start on the journey to Battalion Headquarters the Transport Officer’s troubles take another turn. He has to find his way in the dark across an open bullet-swept zone with animals that jib and shy as the shells burst, or lie down as the fit takes them, and at times succeed in scattering their packs. These must be collected and laboriously replaced, the driver meanwhile employing the most spirited and forcible terms of endearment in his vocabulary. At times the convoy will be held up by heavy shelling of the area that has to be crossed. Leaving the open they enter one of the nullahs up and down which hundreds of troops are moving, and progress is slow and exasperating. But in spite of all obstacles the transport men daily got the rations through to their comrades in the line. Nor should a word of gratitude to the Indian drivers of the A.T. carts and the Zion Mule Corps be omitted. These men gave efficient help in the transport of stores and material from the beaches to the dumps, and their courage under fire was admirable. The pride the Indians took in the smart and clean turn-out of their mules and carts was the more noticeable as they did not appear to be subject to the ordeal of inspection.
The journeys of the ration-parties from Battalion Headquarters to Company Headquarters were no less exciting than those of the battalion transport parties. Bearing heavy boxes or bags on heads or shoulders they crossed from trench to trench in the open, tripping over wire, stumbling into holes, dodging rifle fire, and, too often, falling victims to the sniper. But the rations arrived and the men were fed.