A Marine at Gallipoli on the Western Front by Harry Askin

Author:Harry Askin [Askin, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Bisac Code 1: HIS027090; Bisac Code 2: BIO008000; HISTORY / Military / World War I; BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Military
ISBN: 9781473827844
Publisher: Pen and Sword
Published: 2015-03-31T04:00:00+00:00

I had a walk down the trench to see Charlie after dinner. I got to where a listening sap went out towards the Bosch trench when I heard the pop of a rifle from across the way and knew that a rifle grenade was coming over. I ducked of course when I heard the whizz and the thing dropped in the next bay. No sooner the explosion than the cry for ‘Stretcher-bearers’.

I dashed round the traverse and found two men dead, one of the London Irish, a big jovial Irishman, and the other a young lad from my own company. The grenade hit our chap on his steel helmet, because it was ripped and torn like brown paper and the poor kid’s head was completely blown to bits. The Irishman’s head and face had suffered terribly too, besides having his body riddled. There was another chap in the bay and he said they were all three on the fire-step talking. He wasn’t even scratched. Our bombing section under Grindy and Pilgrim, both Conspicuous Gallantry Medal (CGM) men from Gallipoli, got busy after that and sent over about fifty grenades in quick time, piping down the Bosch for the day.

I was guide for the ration party at night and we set off at ‘stand down’ and were back again by 11.00pm without getting lost. A party of Londons went out about 3.30am on the 15th and we ‘stood to arms’, but nothing happened. The sector was very quiet and I don’t think there was one shell over on our part. There was a certain liveliness up at Vimy on the right and at Loos on the left.

I had to go down to the battalion HQ at 7.30am on the 16th to act as guide to C and D Companies who were to relieve us and got them up by 1.00pm without anything going wrong. When they were bedded down we made our way back to Hersin and the convent again. Everybody was in a shocking state of filth and our clothes and gear were thick with mud and chalk. The English leave party was curtailed to three per battalion, so my hopes of Blighty were very obscure, without I stop something, and there was always a risk about that.

We spent three uneventful days at Hersin, our time being occupied chiefly in getting clean and doing various drills by numbers. The battalion dwindled down again to its usual Active List, all the square number men dropping in for further cushy jobs. Officers and NCOs were sent away on courses. Those who went were the ones who had never seen any fighting with the battalion, and were never likely to do.

The War Office had officially taken us over and we were to be known as 63rd (Royal Navy) Division. General Sir A. Paris was still in charge and the division consisted of three 188, 189 and 190 brigades, the last-named, including 1st Battalion Honourable Artillery Company; 4th Bedfords; 7th Royal Fusiliers; 10th Dublins,

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