The Anzac Book

by Unknown

Capt. James Sprent,
A.M.C. (3rd Field Amb.).

Drawn by F. R. CROZIER

“Wandering spirits, seeking lands unknown,
Such were our fathers, stout hearts unafraid.”

C. E. W. B.

·Picture of a battalion Resting·

GLIMPSES OF ANZAC

It’s the monotony we revile, not—to a like degree—hard work or hard fare. To look out on the same stretch of beach or the same patch of trench wall and the same terraces of hostile black and grey sandbags day after day is to be wearied. There is the same sitting in the same trench, shelled by the same guns, manned, perhaps (though that we endeavour to avert), by the same Turks. Unhappily it is not the same men of ours that they maim and kill daily.

And if one’s dug-out lies on a seaward slope there is, every morning, the same stretch of the lovely Ægean, with the same two islands standing over in the west.