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Updated: June 1, 2025
Marvellous as this success appeared, its repetition at Cape Helles on 7-8 January was even more extraordinary, although a Turkish attack on the 7th threatened to develop into that rearguard action which had been considered almost inevitable.
"The ships came as close in shore as possible and always will, gentlemen, as long as you're on that plagued Peninsula but, by God! it was the Army that left the shelter of the ships, and went through the blizzard of bullets on to the beaches of Cape Helles." Can such a compliment be acknowledged otherwise than uproariously? Close your ears, if you can't stand a noise.
The Admiral, who regards soldiers as wayward water babes, has insisted on lashing a merchantman to each side of the Arcadian to serve as torpedo buffers. There are, it seems, at least two German submarines prowling about at the present moment between Gaba Tepe and Cape Helles. After torpedoing the Triumph the same submarine fired at and missed the Vengeance.
He was crossing in hopes in hopes, if you please of hitting off the submarine. The idea that it might hit him had not seemed to occur to him. On the way we were greatly excited to see the bladder of an indicator net smoking. So we rushed about the place and bombs were got ready to drop. Landing at Helles inspected the various roads, which were in the making. Next saw Hunter-Weston.
Breakfast at half-past seven. Bread, slices of cold meat and something in addition, at eleven. Luncheon at one, hearty enough for a dinner. At half-past four helles beer and tea with Butterbrods. Dinner at seven. And on going to bed a fortifying supper of pigs' feet, sausage, cheese and other man-like delicacies, flooded with potations.
"Asiatic Annie!" we both said, at once and in unison. For all of us knew the evil reputation of Asiatic Annie that large gun, safely tucked away in the blue hills of Asia, who lobbed her shells a seven-mile throw over the Straits on to the shores of Cape Helles a mischievous old lady, who delighted in being the plague of the Beaches.
But we can't run to the pomp and circumstance of a Commander-in-Chief's guard here. 15th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian." Till 3 p.m. the perspiring Staff were re-embarking their gear. Sailed then for Helles when I saw Hunter-Weston who gave me a full account of the attacks made on the newly gained bluff upon our left. Shells busy bursting on "W" Beach.
Do you hear anything?" "No," I answered, after awhile. "Listen again. You won't catch it first go." I strained my ears, while Doe stared at me. "Yes, I hear it," I proclaimed at last. "Is it Helles, do you think, or Suvla?" "I expect some of it is the old Turk trying to resist the invasion of Suvla." For I had heard a distant throb in the air no more like a heart beating miles away.
Singing and shouting were suppressed, and we heard nothing but the noise of the engines, the splatter of the agitated water as it struck our hull, and the sound, getting fainter and fainter, of the Ermine ploughing to Helles. "The stage is in darkness," whispered Doe in his fanciful way. "It's the changing of the acts."
No ranks are distinguished in the gravestones, and all are equal in sacrifice. But dominating everything will be a tall white obelisk to be put up on the highest point of Helles, visible to all ships passing through the Gate and going forth upon the seas. Australia will be there. England might lose its interest in the Dardanelles but the Empire never. The younger men have their eyes upon it.
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