GULLY RAVINE. THROUGH THE MUD.
LIEUT. SMITH, V.C., 1/5 BN. EAST LANCASHIRE REGT.
Similar operations at Fusilier Bluff were not, however, successful. Parties of the 9th and 10th Manchesters, supported by bombers of the 5th East Lancashires and the W. Lancs. Field Company, R.E., went forward pluckily, and several got within a yard or two of the enemy trench, but had to be withdrawn. The retirement was effected with coolness and judgment by Lieutenant Simpson, R.E., who, though wounded, checked a bayonet rush of the enemy. The casualties in both places amounted to one officer and twelve men killed and four officers and eighty-seven men wounded. The artillery and trench mortars gave valuable assistance throughout. The following message from General Birdwood, Commanding the Dardanelles Army, was received on the morning of the 20th December: “Well done, 42nd Division!”
The second V.C.
On the 22nd December Lieutenant Alfred Victor Smith, 5th Battalion East Lancashire Regiment, dropped a bomb when in the act of throwing it. It fell to the bottom of the trench in which were a number of men. He shouted a warning, and he himself got into safety, but, seeing that the others could not, he returned and threw himself on the bomb just as it exploded. He was killed instantly, but his comrades were saved. It is not too much to say that the account of this act of heroic devotion sent a thrill through the Empire, and there was general satisfaction with the decision to confer the V.C. after death. The 126th Brigade was justly proud of the fact that both V.C.’s so far gained by the division had been won by officers of its battalions.
Christmas festivities were held on different dates by the various units according to their positions in the line or in reserve. Taking into consideration the adverse conditions that prevailed, an excellent bill of fare was provided—roast beef, plum-pudding with rum sauce, a pint of beer for each man, and various delicacies from canteen stores. Christmas day was bright and frosty, and the Divisional Band turned Gully Ravine into a pleasure resort by playing Christmas carols at appointed spots in the ravine. One battalion thought that greater delicacy might have been shown in the choice of carols. They had been relieved from the front line on Christmas Eve, and had just settled down in “rest” bivouacs near Gully Beach to a much-needed sleep, when, in the early hours of Christmas morning, they were ordered to turn out and move to a distant bivouac far up the ravine. As they put on their equipment in a most unchristian frame of mind, the band started to serenade Divisional Headquarters with “Christians Awake!” and as the men prepared to move off the tune changed to a less familiar air. “What are they playing now?” asked an officer. “‘God rest you, merry gentlemen,’” came the reply in a voice choked with emotion. With twilight a silence fell. No gun fired, no rifle cracked, until the moon showed over the shoulder of Achi Baba, when missiles of destruction of every kind, from the cricket-ball bomb to the giant shells from monitors out at sea, pitched into the enemy lines.
Hostile aircraft, both bombing and observation planes, had greatly increased in number since the evacuation of Suvla and Anzac, the Turks being naturally anxious to learn what was happening at Helles. A note attached to an old bomb was thrown from the enemy trenches into the trenches occupied by the Sussex Yeomanry. It contained this message: “Good-bye, Sussex Yeomanry. Sorry you can’t stay, but we’ll meet again on the Canal.”
The Turk was not looked upon with the blend of amusement (at his egregiousness) and detestation (of his manners and brutality) with which the Boche was regarded by all who came in contact with him. Rather was he respected as a brave foeman and esteemed as a sportsman. Among other things to his credit, he had treated wounded prisoners well and had respected the Red Cross flag. The flag of the Advanced Dressing Station at “Y” Beach was in full view of the Turks for three months, but there was no shelling and no casualty from shells. When the Field Ambulance of the South Eastern Mounted Brigade took over in December, the Union Jack was hoisted in addition to the Red Cross flag. The change was made at midnight, and promptly at dawn the Turks opened fire. The first two shells were short; then came three “overs,” and the sixth—and last—brought down the flag-pole. The Medical Officer who records the above also testifies that during a long and heavy bombardment of “Y” Ravine hostile shells were dropping all along the tracks in the vicinity of the Advanced Dressing Station, the shooting being “dead accurate,” but not one shell came within sixty yards of the Red Cross flag that flew over the Dressing Station.
The Evacuation