The Fifth Battalion Highland Light Infantry in the War 1914-1918 | Page 7

our artillery, particularly "L"
Battery R.H.A., of Mons and Le Cateau fame, firing from our
immediate left front.

Walking wounded from the firing-line began to pass through our
trenches. From these we learned that the attack was being well held,
and that the Turkish infantry coming on with fanatical shouts of "Allah,
Allah!" was being mowed down by rifle and machine-gun fire.
The enemy realised his defeat, and about 9 a.m. the firing died away.
During the morning two of our men were wounded, one by a spent
bullet, the other by shrapnel. Later on in the day the Battalion was
ordered forward for an instructional spell in the front trenches.
Guides from the 29th Division arrived before dusk and at nightfall we
set off, moving in column of route as far as Fig Tree Farm. From
thence we passed in file up the Eastern Mule Track and through a
labyrinth of trenches to a ruined cottage near Twelve Tree Copse. This
was the Headquarters of the 87th Brigade, and here the Battalion was
split up, "A" Company going to the trenches of the 1st Battalion Dublin
Fusiliers, "B" to the 2nd Royal Fusiliers, and "C" to the 1st Munsters.
Battalion Headquarters and "D" Company were stowed away in the
reserve trenches. All these battalions had suffered very severely since
the historic landing on April 25th. The Munsters, for instance, had not
more than a hundred of their original men left.
About this time the Turks were evidently apprehensive of an attack,
and made the night hideous by prolonged bursts of rapid musketry fire.
Our introduction to the front trenches was therefore a fairly lively one.
Here we first encountered some of the gruesome spectacles incidental
to this style of warfare. Such sights as the withered hand of a Turk
sticking out from the parapet of a communication trench, or the boots
of a hastily buried soldier projecting from his shallow grave, produce
on one's first experience of them an emotion of inexpressible horror. It
was still more trying to look on the unburied dead lying in groups in
front of the parapet; and further away, near the Turkish lines, the bodies
of so many of the Scottish Rifles who had been swept down by
concealed machine-guns only a week before in their gallant attempt to
advance without artillery support.

It is well that this acuteness of feeling soon becomes blunted. One
quickly learns to regard such things as an inevitable aspect of one's
everyday environment. Thank God for this; life in the trenches would
otherwise be unbearable.
Major Fisher, commanding the 2nd Royal Fusiliers, was good enough
to let us have a perusal of his Trench Standing Orders. Afterwards he
allowed Capt. Simson to make a copy of these, which we always
referred to as "Napoleon's Maxims." As a record of practical experience
in trench routine they proved invaluable to us later on; when we had to
hold trenches of our own we used them as the basis of our organisation
of duties.
[Illustration: GULLY RAVINE, CAPE HELLES.]
During this instructional tour "D" Company sweltered in its reserve
trench under a blazing sun, vainly seeking shade and refuge from the
flies.
Evening brought the report of the Battalion's first "killed in action"--Pte.
Wallace of "A" Company, who had been shot through the head while
on look-out in the firing-trench.
If possible the heat became more scorching. We all suffered an
unquenchable thirst upon which gallons of tea when available made
little or no impression.
The drinking water was unpalatable, being heavily chlorinated to
sterilise it. Our modest ration of unsweetened lime-juice sufficed to
remove the unpleasant flavour from one fill of a water-bottle, but
would not stand further dilution. In any case water-bottles could not be
refilled at will, and it was a long walk to Gully Ravine from which we
drew our water. It may be recorded here that this "trench thirst," as we
dubbed it, remained with us for our first few weeks on the Peninsula.
Thereafter it gradually disappeared until our craving for liquid became
normal.
Meanwhile we were rapidly learning to adapt ourselves to

circumstances; to sleep soundly on the fire-step of a trench; to
extemporise fuel and cooking appliances; to endure the myriads of flies
which swarmed over our food, pursuing it even into our mouths, bathed
(and drowned) themselves in our drink, and clustered on our faces,
waiting in queues to sip moisture from our eyes or lips; to live with
relish on bully-beef, Maconochie, tea, hard biscuits and jam; in short,
we were becoming able to fend for ourselves.
After dark on July 8th the Battalion moved back to our rest trenches
near Pink Farm and had an excellent night's sleep.
The following day we received orders to relieve the 7th H.L.I. in the
firing-line