Little did we know what was in store for us. Orders came to disembark, so we all helped to lower the life boats, and climbed down the rope ladders into them. I was all settled down with the rest of the boys to make a clean landing without the Turks knowing. Up came a tug boat and took about ten small boats in tow.
Just at that moment we were under fire. The big battleships opened up, and it was some bombardment. The 15-inch guns on the Queen Elizabeth let go with the rest. We were about twenty yards off the beach when, before my eyes, I saw my comrades fall in the water, boats capsizing, rifles in the air, and arms and legs flying around. On seeing this our tug turned toward Cape Hellos, on the right of West Beach, and every man made for the water. Some managed to get on land. You see, the Turks, mastered by German officers, put barbed wire entanglements into the water. They knew we could only land in small boats as the water was not deep enough for a liner to get close. As the life boats turned, they got tangled in the wire and overturned. Some of the boys tried to grasp hold of the wire, but had to let go, as it cut their hands, and of course they were drowned. We lost an awful number of men before the real scrap began, and I will say it was some landing. I did not believe I could come through this bit of a scrap. When I landed I looked to see if I was all there. The Turks had trenches right up to the water's edge, and, God bless those Australians, they drove the Turks out of the first line and gave us a chance to land. I asked a chap next to me what he thought of it and how he liked it. Well, he gave me a look enough to kill me, and said, "Well, the first five years is the worst. After that I suppose we will get used to it."
I was five days on land when I began to feel the strain of not having enough food or water. Water was scarce and my mouth was all blistered, it was so hot. We were getting a little supply of water and biscuits from the ships. They came in gasoline cans that had not been washed out properly, but we were so thirsty that we did not bother about the taste.
When I received my wound on the head, I did not know what hit me, but I found myself on board a boat called Andania, a sister ship to the one I left England in. I had a big bandage stuck on my head and was shipped to Lemnos. I lost my memory for a bit and they called me a serious case, so they packed me to a hospital in Alexandria. I fell unconscious again for ten hours and, as I opened my eyes, I could just see a pair of lovely blue ones looking down at me, and a little motherly hand grasped mine. I cannot explain the feeling in my heart in words, when I saw it was a mother. I called her mother because she was a Red Cross nurse. The first thing she asked me was, "Can I write a letter home for you?" You can imagine what I said. I had not heard from home since I left, and I told her to write and say I was all right and would be home soon. I was in that hospital three weeks and every day I would ask that lovely mother to write for me, as I was too weak to write myself. It broke my heart when I had to leave that hospital as all the nurses were so kind to me. I sailed on a hospital ship for England and was put in a hospital in Liverpool, my own home town. In this hospital there was a funny Irish boy who had come from France and was all covered with bandages. I made a pal of him, and the jokes he used to tell me made me forget the pain. One Wednesday a lady came to see us in the hospital and looked at me, saying:
"Were you hurt at the Front," and my Irish pal answered for me, saying: "No, ma'am, sure he tripped over a match stick and sure a fly kicked him."
Oh, he was full of the devil. On leaving that hospital I got a month's leave to recuperate, and spent it at home. I was recalled for service at the end of the month to my delight, as I wanted to see some more fighting. I was attached to the 2nd Battalion of the 10th Liverpool Scottish, and we were detailed to go to France.
"THE FIRST OF THE TANKS"
BY SERGT. M. L. NICHOLSON
RUSHED out of the pleasant atmosphere of an English hospital into France, thence to Arras, to help extend the British front, was my next little bit of adventure. Arras at that time was a sort of resting place, as the fighting there was not half so severe as at Gallipoli, and besides it was held on a fifty-fifty basis, the Germans holding one-half the village and the British the other.