Five Months At Anzac by Dr. Joseph Lievesley Beeston M.D. C.M.G. M.L.C

Author:Dr. Joseph Lievesley Beeston, M.D., C.M.G., M.L.C [Piers]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pickle Partners Publishing
Published: 2014-08-18T00:00:00+00:00

TURKISH PRISONERS

We saw a good many Turkish prisoners at one time or another, and invariably fraternised with them. They were kept inside a barbed-wire enclosure with a guard over them; but there was no need to prevent their escape—they would not leave if they got the chance. On one occasion twelve of them were told to go some distance into the scrub and bring in some firewood. No one was sent with them, the idea being to encourage them to go to their lines and persuade some of the Turks to desert to us. But they were like the cat; they all came back—with the firewood.

I saw two of our men on one occasion bringing in a prisoner. They halted on the hill opposite us, and one of them went to headquarters to ascertain how the prisoner was to be disposed of. In a very short time he was surrounded by fourteen or fifteen of our soldiers, trying to carry on a conversation, and giving him cigarettes and in fact anything he would accept. An hour before they had been trying their best to shoot one another. In one of the attacks on our left the Turks were badly beaten off and left a lot of their dead close up to our trenches. As it was not safe to get over and remove the bodies, a number of boat-hooks were obtained, and with them the bodies were pulled in to our trenches. One of the “bodies” proved to be a live Turk who had been unable to get back to his line for fear of being shot by our men. He was blindfolded and sent down to the compound with the other prisoners.

The difficulty of obtaining sufficient exercise was very great at times. We only held a piece of territory under a square mile in extent, and none of it was free from shell or rifle-fire, so that our perambulations were carried on under difficulty. Major Meikle and I had our regular walk before breakfast. At first we went down the beach towards Gaba Tepe, and then sat for a while talking and trying to see what we could see; but a sniper apparently used to watch for us, for we were invariably saluted by the ping of a rifle in the distance and the dust of the bullet in close proximity to our feet. We concluded that, if we continued to walk in this direction someone would be getting hurt, so our walks were altered to the road round “Pluggey’s Plateau.” We were seated there one morning when our howitzer in the gully was fired, and we felt that the shell was not far from where we sat. We went down to the Battery, and I interrogated some of the gunners. “How far off the top of that hill does that shell go?” said I. “About a yard, sir,” replied the man; “one time we hit it.” I asked him if it would be convenient for the battery to elevate a bit if we were sitting there again.

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