The Anzacs of Gallipoli
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  • Background
    • Who were the Anzacs?
      • Why were they at Gallipoli?
        • What was their involvement?
          • Where did they serve at Gallipoli?
            • What did they experience at Gallipoli?
            • Images
              • The journey to and landing at Anzac Cove
                • The environment
                  • Daily life at Gallipoli
                    • Campaigns
                      • Casualties
                        • Trenches close up
                          • Evacuation
                            • The environment today
                              • Cemeteries and memorials
                                • Graves at Gallipoli
                                • Personal Accounts
                                  • Journey and landing
                                    • Campaigns
                                      • Daily life at Gallipoli
                                        • Food
                                          • The wounded and the dead
                                            • Evacuation
                                              • Thoughts on war
                                              • Learning Activities
                                                • Send a postcard home
                                                  • Eat like an Anzac
                                                    • A newsworthy story
                                                      • Send a Christmas billy
                                                        • 24 hours in a day
                                                          • Writing home
                                                            • Dear Diary
                                                              • A letter to a soldier
                                                                • The landscape of Gallipoli
                                                                  • Gravestones of the fallen
                                                                    • Remembering our Anzacs
                                                                      • Research a soldier
                                                                      • Extras
                                                                        • Spirit of Anzac Tour 2011 Video
                                                                          • Acknowledgements
                                                                            • Advice for teachers
                                                                              • Bibliography

                                                                              DAILY LIFE AT GALLIPOLI

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                                                                              Lieutenant J.H.F. Barnes, Malvern, Victoria

                                                                              (died 8 May 1917)

                                                                              “Do you know what a mess tin is like, well it holds about two ordinary cups of tea.  I managed to get half a mess tin of water after tea last Sunday so I made a fire, warmed it, cleaned my teeth, had a shave, had a bath, then tried to was my towel with the water that was left.  A mess tin is a very handy thing to have.”
                                                                              Image: Mess tin found at Lone Pine. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/RELAWM07799.004

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                                                                              Colonel Herbert Collett, 28th Battalion

                                                                              “A few had bivvies, excavated in the walls of trenches, but most men had only the floor of the trench upon which to lie.  Here, clothed in their overcoats and wrapped in their single blankets, they slumbered – only to be rudely awakened now and then by the pressure on some part of their anatomy of the feet of a passenger to or from the front line…In the front trenches, where garrisons were relieved by the supports every 24 hours, sleep was, theoretically, not to be thought of.  However, the normal man felt that at some time during the 24 hours it was good to close his tired eyes – if only for a few minutes.”

                                                                              Reid, Richard. Gallipoli 1915. Sydney: ABC for the Australian Broadcasting, 2002, p106.
                                                                              Image: Australian Trench at Gallipoli.  Note the man sleeping on the floor of the trench and the "bivvie" in the wall of the trench, which would have been sued for sleeping. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/P02667.013

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                                                                              Lieutenant F.H. Semple

                                                                              ‘One of the greatest difficulties here is the shortage of water…I had the first shave for a week and my face was coated with dust and grime I had got through all the recent fighting and trench digging.  After I had finished the water in my mess tin it was muddy and I washed my face in that and then had my tea out of the same tin.”

                                                                              Gammage, Bill. The Broken Years; Australian Soldiers in the Great War. Canberra: Australian National UP, 1974, p88.
                                                                              Image: Corporal Brown, 4th Australian FAB shaving outside his tent. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/P01116.023

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                                                                              Captain D.G. Campbell

                                                                              ‘The worst things here (Turks excepted) are the flies in millions, lice and everlasting bully beef and biscuits and too little water.  Also it will be a good thing when we get a chance to bury some of the dead.”

                                                                              Gammage, Bill. The Broken Years; Australian Soldiers in the Great War. Canberra: Australian National UP, 1974, p89.
                                                                              Image: The grave of Captain D.G. Campbell, killed in action 21 October 1917. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/H16016

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                                                                              C.E.W. Bean, War Correspondent

                                                                              “You must not imagine that life in one of these year long modern battles consists of continuous bomb fighting, bayoneting and bombarding all the time….the chief occupation is the digging of mile upon mile of endless trench, of sunken road…the carrying of biscuit boxes and building timber for hours daily…the sweeping and disinfecting of trenches in the never ending battle against flies – this is the soldiers life for nine days out of ten in a modern battle.”

                                                                              Dispatch, Commonwealth of Australia Gazette, 2 December 1915, p3058.
                                                                              Image: Soldiers of the Ambulance Section digging trenches. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/H00642

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                                                                              2nd Lieutenant CW Saunders

                                                                              “The actual fighting at Anzac was easiest of all.  The fatigue work was enormous, colossal.  Imagine a man with two kerosene tins full of water tied together with a belt and slung over the shoulder climbing for 800 meters up the grades, slipping back, up and on again, the heat of the sun terrible, bullets and shells everywhere and as often as happened, a bullet and shrapnel hitting the tins and bursting it and the priceless fluid running away just as he had scrambled almost to the top.  Nothing for it but to go all the way down again for some more.  No, I think everyone was who was at Anzac will agree with me that the hardest fighting done there was by the water and rations fatigue.

                                                                              Pugsley, Christopher, and Lockyer, John. The Anzacs at Gallipoli: a Story for Anzac Day. Auckland: Reed, 1999, p224.
                                                                              Image: Soldier carrying water in 2 kerosene tins. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/C00776

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                                                                              Sydney Loch, trying to sleep on his first night in ANZAC Cove

                                                                              “Several men were turning in for the night., lying down fully dressed with only their boots off.  Their bed consisted of one blanket and an overcoat.  Lying down left us more pressed for room than ever, as nobody was willing to leave the immediate shelter of the bank…the place was full of stones and rather exposed.  I moved as close as possible under the bank and removed the largest stones.  At uncertain intervals they were shelling us again.  The shells burst overhead with a blinding flash, as though they were pictures of fireworks in a storybook.”

                                                                              Loch, Sydney. To Hell and Back: The banned account of Gallipoli, Sydney: Harper Collins, 2007, p92.
                                                                              Image: men sleeping in trenches at Gallipoli. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/H00482

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                                                                              My ANZAC home, by Corporal George L. Smith

                                                                              “Come and see my little dug-out way up on the hill it stands.

                                                                              Where I can get a lovely view of Anzac’s golden sands;

                                                                              When ‘beach billy’ is shelling, I can see just where it lands,

                                                                              From my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              It isn’t quite as roomy as the mansions of the Tsar;

                                                                              From sitting room to bedroom is not so very far,

                                                                              For the dining and the smoking room you just stay where you are,

                                                                              In my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              The fleas they wander nightly, as soon as I’ve undressed,

                                                                              And after many weary hunts I’ve had to give them best.

                                                                              As the ants have also found it, there is very little rest

                                                                              In my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              I’ve a natty little cupboard, and it looks so very nice.

                                                                              ‘Twas made to keep my bread and jam, my bacon and my rice;

                                                                              But now it’s nothing other than a home for orphaned mice.

                                                                              In my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              There is no electric lighting in the blighted land of war,

                                                                              So I use some fat in syrup tins, and stand it on the floor-

                                                                              And when it’s working overtime I sweat from every pore,

                                                                              In my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              When the nights are clear and starry – then the scene is beautified

                                                                              By the silvery gleams and shadows that across the mountain glide;

                                                                              But if it’s wet and stormy – well, I go to sleep outside

                                                                              Of my cosy little dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              When the time comes round for parting from my little eight by four,

                                                                              And I get a good night’s rest without a back that’s sore,

                                                                              Well – perhaps some day I’ll miss you, and will long to live once more

                                                                              In the little cosy dug-out on the hill.

                                                                              Bean, C. E. W. The ANZAC Book. Sydney: University of New South Wales, 2010, p126.
                                                                              Image: unidentified soldiers outside a dugout at Gallipoli. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/C01444

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                                                                              “Some may regard a trench as a romantic place, but it makes a thankless home. Most trenches were deep and narrow, safe from rifle fire and pretty secure from shrapnel. Nethertheless accidents did occur. A fellow would keep his head too far above the parapet or look too long through a peep hole and get sniped.  Sometimes a bullet penetrated a badly filled sandbag and settled some poor devils account…the trenches zig-zagged all the way, so enemy fire could into enfilade for any distance.  The sun stared down onto the baked earth and searched out every corner.  To provide some shade, fellows stretched blankets overhead, pinned to the walls with bayonets. Sometimes attempts were made to get little comforts, such as seats, shelves and pictures from illustrated papers. But nothing really disguised the horror of these homes.”

                                                                              Loch, Sydney. To Hell and Back: The banned account of Gallipoli, Sydney: Harper Collins, 2007, p154.
                                                                              Image: Men in trenches at Gallipoli. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/G00425

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                                                                              “Many times one could pass through the trenches without a sign of war other than men polishing their rifles.  One would find men shaving, men cooking little dinners, men reading old newspapers or writing love letters, while others were sleeping.  Some were naked to the waist, hunting for body lice among the seams and crevices of their shirts.”

                                                                              Loch, Sydney. To Hell and Back: The banned account of Gallipoli, Sydney: Harper Collins, 2007, p155.
                                                                              Image: Soldier reading a paper and others resting in a trench at Gallipoli. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/P00437.

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                                                                              “Swimming was popular with all hands.  Early in the campaign we had a Turkish attack one morning; it was over by midday, and an hour later most of the men were swimming. I think it not unlikely that some of the missing men were due to this habit. They would come to the beach and leave their clothes and identity discs ashore, and sometimes they were killed in the water.”

                                                                              Beeston, Joseph, Five Months at Anzac, Sydney, Angus and Robertson, p81.
                                                                              Image: Men bathing in the sea after returning from the trenches. http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/G00269