Our Friend the Enemy by David W. Cameron

Author:David W. Cameron
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Big Sky Publishing
Published: 2014-08-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 62

‘Come along, boys, we’ll charge!’

At 8.30 pm, the right covering force, consisting of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles under the command of Brigadier Andrew Russell, began its task of clearing the Turks from the lower slopes of North Beach, including Old No. 3 Outpost below Chunuk Bair. Also assigned to this task were two Maori platoons under the command of Captain Norman Hastings who stood with his men as they gathered for a religious service on the eve of battle, to be led by the padre, Captain Henare Wainohu. Hastings recalled later that the brief, earnest sermon breathed the ‘spirit of the warrior chief quite as strongly as that of the spiritual leader. “Whatever you do,” said the Padre, “remember you have the mana, the honour and the good name of the Maori people in your keeping this night. Remember, our people far away in our native land are watching you, waiting eagerly, anxiously to hear how you have behaved yourselves in battle. In a few minutes perhaps many of us may be dead. But go forward fearlessly, with but one thought. Do your duty to the last, and whatever comes never turn your backs on the enemy. Go through with what you have to do, to the very utmost of your powers. Do your duty, uphold the ancient warrior name of the Maori.”’1 Shortly thereafter, the ‘reverberating thump and crash of artillery, the noise of shells overhead, the bursting of shrapnel, gave the touch of deadly realism to the Padre’s speech.’2

Close by, trooper Noel Trolove of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles recalled that every man knew he was in for a hard fight. The objective allotted to the squadron looked ‘tough enough to suit anybody, I assure you. [Before we left] my section buried a few extra eatables we had, such luxuries as a half bottle of Lea & Perrin’s, a tin of condensed milk and some personal belongings, beside a scrub bush, with the understanding that if any of us came through they should dig them up and post the letters etc addressed to relatives. Incidentally I was the only one left to perform this duty for the other three, which I did a fortnight later.’3

***

To assist with the attack, the British destroyer HMS Colne had moved close to shore along North Beach. She had fixed her searchlights on Old No. 3 Outpost and, at 9.00 pm precisely, given the Turkish position a 30-minute salvo. She had been maintaining this routine every night for the last six weeks. By now most Turks, anticipating the shelling routine, had evacuated the post. Just before the scheduled bombardment, the Mounted Rifles filed out of No. 2 Outpost in the darkness and began to move up the southern gully of the Sazli Beit Dere towards the well-fortified Turkish outpost less than 500 metres away. As the shells began to fall, the leading squadron of the Auckland Mounted Rifles moved to a point just below the southern slopes of the post — just behind the wall of flame now engulfing the position.

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