Only men in perfect health and of the physique of these troops could have accomplished the scaling of those hills and still charge on, their vigour unabated. That climb had been amongst firs and holly bushes, over carpets of poppies, anemones, and wild flowers. The troops fired now from the ridges into the running Turks, whom they could not well see, but could hear crashing away ahead of them. It was the first step in a great charge. The Turks had not been numerous, but their position might well have been called impregnable. I do not suppose more than 500 to 800 Turks composed the force that manned the heights, but they had trenches, machine guns in positions, and had but to turn their fire on the water's edge that gently lapped the shore. They knew they had many thousands in reserve at Maidos, Bogali, and Kojadere, the nearest camp, but fearful of the landing host, they had turned and gone back to the gully, where, joined by reserves, they waited the next onslaught. These enemy lines too, now the gallant 3rd Brigade, spreading out in a thin line, drove before them. Raked by machine guns from other ridges, the bullets came whistling through the leaves of the bushes round them. It was no use to pause in the valley—bullets came from behind, as snipers waited while the onward rush went over them, and then fired into the rear of the advancing parties—only to push on and on. Terrible work this was, crashing through the undergrowth, down, down into a valley, the bottom of which could not be seen, over broken ground, to reach at last creeks, and then to climb the hill outlined faintly in irregular silhouette before the advancing dawn.
As it grew lighter the enemy in great numbers could be seen running along these ridges, or establishing themselves in hasty entrenchments. Had they attacked, 4,000 strong as they were, they must have dispersed our isolated parties, driving them back at least. But the fierceness of the landing had shaken the nerve of the Turkish army; for the moment, I believe, the attack was paralysed. For an hour the Turks had ceased firing—between 5.30 and 6.30. Oh, thrice blessed hour, that gave the landing army time to gather its strength! The main gully was intersected by many smaller gullies, and down each of these parties of shouting Australians went, wherever they could find a leader—a sergeant, a South African veteran, or officer—to lead them. Some waited for word to go on, others went on till they were lost to their comrades for ever in the distant ridges.
In the early hours Major Brand, Brigade-Major of the 3rd Brigade, directing the right of the line that was working east, led a party across a crest, and, on the hillside below, saw a redoubt and earthworks, on which, after opening rapid fire, without delay he charged. The Turks fled, leaving as a prize to fall into our hands a three-gun battery of Krupp guns. One cannot overestimate the gallantry of this small party, who lost no time in spiking the guns and destroying them as best they could. For already the Turkish first counter-attack was developing, and it became necessary for Colonel Maclagan, while waiting for the new regiments, to contract his front. Major Brand had to retire to the hill crest, and for this deed and other heroism that morning he obtained the D.S.O.
Hours ere this had fled by, and meanwhile other regiments were pouring from the transports. Still the darkness hung over the shore. Only with the faint streaks of dawn could it be definitely learned that the brigade that had landed had won and held the heights. As one section of transports, having discharged its human freight, moved out, others filed in to take their places. The flashes of rifles could be seen on the cliffs, the error of the landing—that fortunate error—realized with a gasp of horror, surprise, and fear. All need for silence now ended, the orders rang out sharp and clear. Torpedo-boats bumped alongside, swiftly brought to rest, while the troops dropped down on to their decks, only to find there wounded men who had returned, never having set foot ashore.
"Hullo, mates, stung!" called some men from the transports to the wounded men.
"Blasted bad luck!—months of training, and never got a shot at the blighters, and only twenty minutes of fighting."
Wounded were being lifted gently on board by the slings; others lay on the torpedo-boats, the time too precious to render anything but first aid while the task of disembarking still remained unfinished.
How magnificent the attitude of the Navy now that the strain was lifted, and a silent, stern air had given place to a jaunty assurance. Boys ran pinnaces up to grim transports and took command of hundreds of men, fearing death as little as any tried veterans. Reckless of danger, they never flinched. Let me only tell of one such midshipman hailing a transport (the skipper told me the story himself later), saying:—
"Admiral's orders, but you will move in to —— position, closer in shore."
"Is there any danger?" bellowed back the skipper, thinking of the safety of his ship and the shells that threw towers of water up over his decks.