Gallipoli (81 page)

‘Is it the only trench you want us to take?' he asks in the manner of a man heading off to the tobacconist and wondering if the General would really like only one cigar and not two.

‘Only one,' General Godley replies quietly,
¹²
unaware that off to the side Captain Fry is winking at Hugo.

Very well then.

‘I know you will get it,' Godley tells them. ‘It's the holding that is the difficulty.'
¹³

Indeed. Godley shows them the map, which they examine by the dull glow of his lantern.
¹⁴

Allied and Turkish trench dispositions, Hill 60, pre-attack, 27 August 1915, after a map by C. E. W. Bean

Trenches and pockets thereof in close proximity are being held by a few lone survivors of the 9th Light Horse Regiment, together with some survivors of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles and the 18th Battalion – but Turks are holding trenches all around them. The job of the 10th Light Horse is to clean the Turks out of the nearby trenches and consolidate the position by digging trenches to connect those already held.

The officers take their leave, with one of them commenting to Throssell that General Godley makes it sound ‘as simple as going down to Claremont Show'.
¹⁵

They are put in the hands of a Major, who takes them to the top of another nearby hill, where he can point out the particular trench on the south-western side of Hill 60 that they are asked to take. But it is difficult, all right. From where they stand, the whole thing looks to Throssell's eyes like a maze. ‘The trenches were so close, it was impossible to tell which were ours and which were Turks.'
¹⁶

In the particular trench they are asked to take, it is explained, for five minutes every hour on the hour, the Australians of the 9th Light Horse have been putting up pink flags to show the artillery where they are, in the hope that same artillery can lob some shells onto the Turks' location. But this has become problematic. In the last few hours, the Turks have cottoned on to the tactic and are now putting up pink flags they have captured.

Eager to get a closer look at just what they are facing, Major Jack Scott requests that he and some of the men be taken to reconnoitre. The fact that to do this they will have to cover 20 yards or so of open ground, unprotected by trench, means that it becomes perilously close to the last thing they will ever do.

The one-way traffic coming down is filled with grievously wounded men, for, just as the Australian artillery has been concentrating on the Turkish end of the trench, so are the Turks lobbing shells on this open area with, as Hugo Throssell would record, ‘75's falling around us'.
¹⁷

When they come to a trench about as shallow as it is wide, well covered by a couple of snipers, the 10th lose no fewer than 11 men racing across 20 exposed yards before it is decided that – to limit the exposure – only squadron leaders should go to investigate. Throssell stays back.

After they return around 7 pm and make their report – it is every bit as grim as they had feared – Captain Fry decides Throssell should see the situation for himself and, just as it is going dark, they make a dash of death across the chain length of carnage, treading on dead and wounded men as they go.

‘It was awful,' Lieutenant Throssell would recount, ‘but we had to find out what was before us.'
¹⁸

The answer is withering fire, plentiful bombs and a guarantee of suffering many casualties.

It is half-past nine before they get back to their men – in time to grab a bite to eat and a tot of rum against the biting cold. Between them, Captain Fry and Throssell have decided the best time for A & B (combined) Squadron to follow their orders will be at 11 that night. The officers – Scott, Fry and Robertson – go off to receive further instructions from General Godley. When they are not back by 11.30, the whole Regiment comes to the conclusion that it must be off for the night and …

And here they are now.

General Godley's ‘instructions' are not really worthy of such a grandiose word. For he is of the strong opinion that the 10th Light Horse has what it takes to get the job done. The longer the Turks keep digging in and the Australians keep waiting, the harder it will be. So they must go now.

Tonight!

EARLY HOURS, 29 AUGUST 1915, HILL 60, ‘OUT WITH THEM!'

The few men who have gone to sleep are roused and Major Scott issues his final instructions over the sounds of rifles cracking and bombs exploding within 50 yards. Thick palls of smoke drift over them.

We are going in at 1 am. We are going in hard and fast. We are going to take a hundred yards off them and kill whatever Turks we can find, and then we are going to get ready for the massive counter-attack we know is coming.

Now, you must divide up into three lines, fix bayonets and take 200 rounds of ammunition and three sandbags.

‘The first line … ten time fuse bombs to each section of four men. The second line … no bombs, but each man … a pick or shovel.'
¹⁹

At 1 am – we have synchronised watches – the 9th are going to take down their sandbag barrier and attack the Turks from their western end, while we of the A–B Squadron charge overland from Trench 3, straight at the Turks from an angle they are not expecting. Meanwhile, Squadron C will do the same from Trench 2. There will be no preliminary bombardment on them as this is to be a
surprise
attack.

Everyone clear?

Everyone seems to be, and so the preparations are made.

All set?

All set.

As they file into position through access Trenches 2 and 3, which are filled with New Zealanders, these good men roar their encouragement: ‘Go it, boys! Into them! Give it to them! Down with them! Out with them!'
²⁰

As quickly as they can, the Australians move forward.

Just before 1 am, Hugo Throssell has the 24 C Squadron men he is in charge of in position – all of them looking rather ethereal in the thin moonlight. They wait for the shout to go up. Captain Phil Fry, who is to lead the first line, has done Lieutenant Throssell the great honour of choosing him to lead the second line.

Hugo is pleased. Phil Fry is a great bloke, and is so frequently and fervently on his knees praying that Hugo often tells him, ‘Put in a word for me.'
²¹
There could be no better man to be following in.

It does not take long …

‘The first line has charged!' calls out the biggest man of the 10th Regiment, the giant from Gippsland, Sergeant Macmillan,
²²
with a force that only a man of six foot four inches can muster.

Throssell and his men scramble up and out of the trench, and are soon running as one, sprinting on an angle across the 60 yards that separate them from the Turk trenches visible there in the moonlight … as if it is a school carnival in Perth.

Away from the high walls of the trench and into the open air, as cold as a German's heart, the troopers of the 10th Light Horse Regiment keep running. Now, though bombs are bursting all around, for the most part they are not under heavy fire – certainly not as heavy as on the first line, who have made the mistake of cheering as they go.

More accurate Allied and Turkish trench dispositions, Hill 60, compiled from aeroplane photographs taken in September and Turkish sources, after a map by C. E. W. Bean

The second line travels the ground quietly and quickly, with the notable exception of Throssell himself, who catches a foot and falls heavily, before getting up and instantly falling again. To his amazement, however, he is not hit and is soon fully back on his feet and jumping into the same Turkish trench in which his comrades are already unleashing hell.

The survivors of the first line have done their work well, after a series of vicious clashes as short as they are sharp and bloody. The trench is now substantially captured, with several Turks lying dead at the feet of the first line (side by side, in a curiously peaceful pose, with the bodies of Reynell's 9th Light Horse Regiment killed the night before). The rest of the Turks have fled.

And here now is the courageous Captain Fry, running back and forth along the parapet, ‘heedless of his own danger, encouraging his men'.
²³

‘Is that you, Throssell?' he shouts.

‘Yes,' Hugo replies. ‘What are you doing up there, Phil?'

‘Just seeing all is right,' Fry replies before dropping into the trench.
²⁴

While Throssell's men are filling sandbags to build a barricade to block the trench and make good their claim to this section – meaning the only way the Turks can get to them now is to climb over it, in which case they will have their bloody heads blown off – Throssell instinctively moves forward of his men in the direction that the Turks have fled, knowing it can only be a matter of time before the bravest of them return around the doglegs.

And, sure enough – only an instant after he is positioned in what is effectively a blind no-man's-land facing the Turkish-held end of the trench – an enormous Turkish soldier comes around the corner, only for the West Australian to drive his bayonet
²⁵
into him, ending his life in an instant. And here is another! And another! And one more! And … one …
more.

Soon there are lots of them coming, and Throssell, closely supported by Corporal Ferrier and Sergeant Macmillan, turns into a whirling dervish with the bayonet. He yells to the others, who are doing the same, ‘Stick it, boys! Stick it!'
²⁶

They stick it, and they stick it, and they stick it to them … and through them.

What does it do to a man to be in the fight of his life, in an enclosed space four feet wide, shooting at other humans who are shooting at you, thrusting your bayonet into another man's stomach, to see his intestines spilling out under the moonlight, to be conscious every second that if you don't kill your enemy he will kill you?

Throssell doesn't yet know.

But on this bloody night, in this ferocious battle, likely no one is more heavily engaged in the struggle than the West Australian. Amid all the screams, all the dead and dying men – including many of his fellow Australian soldiers – Throssell, ‘fighting like a lion',
²⁷
uses his rifle as club, gun and spear successively: smashing, shooting and grievously goring every Turkish soldier he can get to.

The Turks retreat under the onslaught, no doubt to gather themselves for another attack.

For the moment, the Australians are in control of the greater length of the trench, and it will now be for them to withstand the brutal counter-attack, which they have always known must come. The first thing is for the eight West Australians to familiarise themselves with the contours of the trench they have taken.

‘Each of the sections is about five yards long, and a bend of about two feet,' Throssell would later explain. ‘We occupied section A, section B was neutral territory, vacant except for the bodies of the Turks, and section C was occupied by the Turks.'
²⁸

Yes, cat and mouse, but who is the cat and who is the mouse?

Over the top of the newly constructed sandbag barricade, Throssell catches sight of the enemies' bayonet tips in a curiously flickering light. For the Turks have other ways of attacking, and on their own side the flares of matches soon illuminate their determined faces as they put flame to the fuses of their bombs.

From out of the dark, suddenly a strange fizzing sound comes from above, then a wobbling light. The lobbed Turkish bomb arcs over the barricade and lands near Throssell.

Fortunately, whoever threw it had been so concerned about not having it blow up in his own hands that there is plenty of time for Throssell to gather it up, wait a moment until it appears that the fuse has about three seconds to go, and then lob it back whence it came.