be stale biscuits and jam. He had survived dysentery, which everybody seemed to suffer and which made the race for the bog a critical win. The only two things he had real difficulty coping with were the fucking flies and the smell of rotting corpses.
Harry was waiting in the trench waiting for the whistle to go over the top. He was checking out his sewing skills: they were ordered to sew a strip of white calico on each arm and the back of their uniforms so that the artillery boys did not blast the living daylights out of them when they were charging Abdul.
‘Harry you all right mate?’ said Alfie Whitecross, one of Harry’s few mates left from the troop ship that brought them to Gallipoli. ‘Yeah just checking out my sewing. Mum would be proud of me. I will be knitting a scarf next.’
‘I must admit I’m just a little nervous.’ whispered Harry. ‘We are all fucking nervous, mate, no doubt about that.’
‘She’ll be right, mate. I reckon this bombardment will be giving Johnny Turk a bit of a shake up. With any luck there won’t be any of the bastards left.’ ‘I wouldn’t bet on it Alfie’.
‘They are giving back as good as they are getting.’ The smell of shellfire was suffocating and the noise coming the artillery of both sides was deafening.
‘I forgot to write Mum and Dad a letter so I better make it back or they will be really disappointed.’ said Harry half joking. ‘Well we don’t have far to run before we are on top of them Harry. Must be only a hundred yards.’
The Lieutenant was moving amongst his men, reassuring them and ensuring all bayonets were fixed and they were ready to go over the top. At 5pm Lieutenant Paul was there with his fob watch in his hand calling three minutes to go, two minutes to go, one minute to go, half a minute to go. Then he shut watch and blew three shrill blasts of a whistle.
Out scrambled the Diggers. Harry and Alfie were running like mad; there was no nervousness now. The shrapnel was falling like hail and they were both firing their rifles as they ran. Harry saw Alfie trip but Alfie did not return to his feet; he had been ripped apart by Turkish machine gun. Harry kept running and was one of the first ANZACs to reach the Turk’s trenches.
The trench was completely covered over with logs and branches and dirt. It was impossible to penetrate it. ‘Come on men we’ll take the next trench’ shouted the Lieutenant he started running again with his pistol at the ready and with his men in hot pursuit.
Harry jumped into the next trench and found several Turks, they were all ready for a fight.
Harry recounted to his Uncle Harry the fight. ‘I shot one and stuck another with my bayonet. I looked around and saw the Lieutenant shooting Turks with his pistol I reckon he must have shot three or four. I saw the Turks running down the end of the trench and disappear; it must have been a cave or a dug out.
The Lieutenant called for Jackie Wilson the bomber to throw a few bombs in. He started to light the fuses and throw them. You could hear the Turks yelling and moaning it wasn’t a pleasant sound but it had to be done.
Lieutenant Paul sent me and another bloke around to the other side of the dug out to see if we could flush them out. The other bloke didn’t even know his name, was in the lead and got a bullet in the eye and dropped like a stone.
I fired my rifle through the opening of the cave and although I couldn’t see, I heard a scream so I figured I got one. Meanwhile at the other side of the trench the bombs had done their job and we experienced no more resistance. We occupied the Turk’s trenches for the next three days, they kept counter-attacking but by the end of the fourth day we could claim victory’
Lone Pine was a significant victory for the ANZACs but at what price? There were ten thousand casualties comprising seven thousand Turks and three thousand Australians. Nine thousand were fatalities.
Harry Daniel along with the remaining ANZACs was shipped out to Egypt before moving on to the Western Front.
From Desert to the Green Hills of France
Chapter 7
Cairo, Egypt, July 1916
Harry senior was playing a game of desert cricket with his cobbers from the Battalion on a balmy Egyptian Sunday afternoon when young Harry wandered up and started cheering his Uncle on. Harry senior was a bloody good sportsman all round. After the game they got together for a chat.
‘Are you alright mate?’ asked Uncle Harry’ ‘Well, we just got our orders to pack up and be ready to move out tomorrow morning.’ ‘Bloody hell, scowled Uncle Harry, we have been waiting around for what seems eternity and you bastards are on the move again.
Young Harry embarked on the troop ship with his mates and steamed off to France, they landed in Marseilles and were then transported to a place called Fromelles in Northern France.
They were allowed to rest for a day then they were instructed to start digging their defensive trenches. This was no easy task as the water table was very close to the surface so the troops were constantly standing in water. They could not go as deep as they had hoped because of the water level so that had to pile sand bags as high as they could without stopping them from going “over the top” when they were to attack the Germans.
The Germans had been entrenched in their bunker system for two years; they were watching every move the Australians were making. Once the trenches were finally dug, it became a waiting game. On the 16th of July 1916 they were told that that they would be attacking the German trenches in a few days. They were also assured by the officers that the aerial bombardment would last three days and it was highly likely that no living German would be left to fight them.
The worst day in Australia’s wartime history was about to begin.
Ancestry.com
Chapter 8
July 1916 Fromelles France
Harry was in the trench with his mates from the 59th Battalion. They had been hearing the bombardment of the German positions for hours now. ‘Geez I hope Pompey and the other officers were right; this bombardment should knock the shit out of Fritz. Just a quick sprint and we take the German trenches.’
‘You are bloody mad, Harry, it’s not gonna be that easy.’ said Frankie, ‘no bloody way.’ ‘I was only joking Frankie, I don’t really believe the bloody officers. Are you a bit scared Frank?’
‘Fucking oath mate, I really don’t want to die here, I was rather hoping I would die in my sleep when I’m about fucking ninety.’ ‘Yeah, me too, said Harry’.
‘Did you hear what happened to Brucey Cook?’ ‘No, what happened’? ‘He copped a fucking shell in the trench.’ ‘How do you know?’ ‘The runner told me. You were having a bit of a kip… fucked if I know how with all this bloody noise.’
The officers and NCO’s started to move along
