The support of the Royal Navy was further manifested by the presence in the Bay, behind the IX. Corps, of a cruiser and some smaller craft. From one of these a sausage-shaped balloon occasionally ascended some few hundred feet and afforded observation of the enemy's rear lines. A glance down the ravine of the Chailak, between Bauchop's Hill and Table Top, revealed H.M.S. "Grafton," a second class cruiser, anchored about two miles from the shore, whose 9.2 and 6-inch guns supplied a powerful backing to the weak artillery of the Anzac Corps.
September 14th did not pass without loss. That morning witnessed the deaths of Sergt. F. W. Ball and two other members as the result of shrapnel fire. Later in the day another member succumbed to wounds. Snipers also levied their toll of those moving about where the reserve was situated. In consequence of this a move was made to a more sheltered quarter and the unsafe dugouts were evacuated. On the 16th there were two further fatal casualties.
During the next two days the men became more accustomed to their life and surroundings. Those in the front trench had by far the easier time. Those in support had to handle the pick and shovel in the works for the improvement of the position. Digging was hard. The conglomerate-like composition of the soil resisted the shovels and turned the points of the picks. Recourse was had to the Navy, who supplied a small forge for the sharpening of the latter. Thus to other noises was added that of the hammer on anvil. The reserves were utilised by the Brigade and Division for works in rear of the position. The demands of the Engineers seemed never ending and were often in excess of the number of men available. This caused considerable confusion and irritation followed by requests from the Division for explanations as to labour not being forthcoming. These requests had usually to be met by lengthy and involved "returns" which very few people understood and which served no useful purpose except to temporarily alleviate the strain. As a rule the exasperating situation was restored next day. Nor was the necessity for the work at first apparent to the men. They thought they came to fight with the bullet and bayonet only. But enlightenment came and one experienced miner voiced it, after a solid week on excavating, when he said "I have just discovered I have been a blanky soldier all my life."
VIEW FROM BABY 700.
Showing Suvla Bay, the Salt Lake, the Plain, and the distant hills bordering the Gulf of Xeros.
The mouth of the Chailak Dere is opposite to the hulk on the beach.
Official Photo. No. G. 1998. Copyright by Australian War Museum.[ToList]
Long hours of hard work usually induce sound sleep at night, but with the platoons in support this happy condition was difficult to achieve. A few had "bivies" excavated in the walls of the trenches, but most men had only the floor of the trench upon which to lie. Here, clothed in their overcoats and wrapped in their single blankets, they slumbered—only to be rudely awakened now and then by the pressure on some part of their anatomy of the feet of a passenger to or from the front line. On dark nights careless senior officers when going their rounds were treated to loud and homely descriptions of themselves which in daylight and cold blood would scarcely even have been whispered to a comrade. In the front trench, where the garrison was relieved by the supports every 24 hours, sleep was, theoretically, not to be thought of. However, the normal man felt that at some time during the 24 hours it was good to close his tired eyes—if only for a few minutes. After all, a seat on a sandbag, and a good solid wall against which to rest one's back, did give a little comfort. The officer in making his tour of inspection would ask a question here and there and occasionally mount the firestep and talk with the sentry. Usually the noise of his approach was sufficient to ensure alertness on his entering a bay that was manned, but, now and then, stertorous breathing and the attitude of the sentry, as revealed by his silhouette against the light of the moon or stars, would indicate that the flesh had momentarily vanquished the spirit. The touch of a hand was sufficient to restore wakefulness. Apropos of this, a senior officer, rather irritable at the moment, once touched an apparently sleeping sentry on the knee, at the same time asking the question "Look here! Are you asleep?" He was rather confounded at receiving the undoubtedly truthful answer "No, Sir."
At 4.30 p.m. on the 18th September, the Turks suddenly commenced a heavy bombardment of the position and back areas. Shrapnel and high explosive were supported by rifle and machine-gun fire at a rapid rate. A glance in the direction of Suvla revealed a sight resembling an exhibition of gigantic chrysanthemums—the white smoke of bursting shrapnel, before dissipating, closely resembling that flower in form. Here and there columns of black smoke and earth would suddenly spring into existence indicating the arrival and explosion of large calibre shells. Everything pointed to some important move on the part of the enemy. Orders were instantly given for the garrison to "stand to" and the reserves to move up in close support. These orders were obeyed with alacrity. All ranks were eager and the answer to the oft-repeated question, "What are we here for?" seemed to be at hand. Rifles and revolvers were loaded, grenades served out, and the New Zealanders manned their machine guns. Within a minute or two of the opening of the bombardment our own guns commenced to reply on the enemy trenches. For a time the noise was deafening—a regular babel of sounds through which, in spite of the crashing of shells, could be distinguished the tapping of machine guns and the swishing of bullets in flight. However, the enemy stuck to cover. Whether or not he intended to make a demonstration only is not clear, but information received later from Suvla showed that a few officers had jumped on to the parapet and waved their swords in the apparent vain attempt to lead their men, who, whilst shouting loudly, were reluctant to leave the safety of the earthworks. In half an hour the firing died down, and normal conditions were resumed. The Battalion had suffered no casualties and had demonstrated its steadiness under sustained fire.
On Sunday, 19th September, a party consisting of one officer from each battalion of the Brigade made a tour of inspection of the Lone Pine position and the trenches running down to Chatham's Post on the extreme right. Additional parties went on the 21st and 23rd. These tours were arranged for instructional purposes, and were valuable aids to acquiring a knowledge of trench warfare methods. Further, they gave the participants many ideas on the use that could be made of ground and of the wonders performed by the troops who made the original landing on 25th April.
At dusk the Maoris assembled just below the Apex. Divine service was conducted by their own chaplain in the Maori tongue, but in accordance with the Church of England liturgy and with the orthodox intoning. The scene was an impressive one, and will not easily be forgotten by those who witnessed it. Other gatherings for worship were held when circumstances permitted, but, as a rule, senior officers objected to their men gathering in numbers when so few spots in the limited area behind the lines were not exposed to shell fire. Chaplains, therefore, had to visit the individual members of their flocks wherever they could find them. This meant much hill climbing and the running of considerable risk from gun and rifle fire. Many a padre acquired great merit by his unselfishness and disregard of danger. Should casualties have occurred during the day, small knots of people might be seen at night down near the beach, or on some other exposed slope, reverently interring a comrade who had fallen. Here the padres performed the last offices for the dead.