Lest We Forget

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Lest We Forget

Turkey: 23rd April - 26th April 2005

“They gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun, and they sent me away to the War.”

For Australia, New Zealand and Turkey the word “ANZAC” is one that stirs the national pride of even the most unpatriotic citizen.

In 1915 both Australia and New Zealand had strong ties to the mother country, Briton and most of their populations considered themselves loyal subjects although many would never have set foot on the British Isles.

On April 25th that same year, the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps landed on the beaches of the Gallipoli peninsula to fight a war for their King and Country in what was to become a small part of the Great War (WWI).

The land assault on the peninsula was a second attempt by British forces to remove Turkey from the war, following a failed sea attack.

Turkey, who had aligned with Germany because the British had refused rights to two battle ships they had promised earlier, were vast becoming a rejuvenated nation after earlier conflicts with Greece and Cyprus.

The conquering of the Dardanelles straits, which connect the Black sea to the Aegean sea and subsequently to the Suez canal were seen as critical to the British in removing Turkey from the war and cutting the Germans off from the southern seas.

The events that took place on the rocky peninsula have been subject to many debates but one thing has become clear over time. The heroics and achievements of all involved has created a legend that has cemented a consciousness of full independence for all three countries.

Australian’s and New Zealanders were now proud to be so and no longer considered themselves British subjects. Turkey was commanded admirably by Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, who would later become the republic’s first president, and on successfully repelling the allied forces were once again a proud nation.

All three countries now celebrate the surviving legend on the 25th of April each year, now officially referred to as ANZAC Day. On this day, many people make the pilgrimage to the peninsula to attend the dawn service and pay their respects to the fallen soldiers of WWI.

In recent times it has been feared that this legend would be lost on future generations however as time has past, interest in Gallipoli has grown immensely, while attendance figures at the dawn service on ANZAC Day swell to record numbers each successive year.

Now, 90 years on, it was my turn to make this pilgrimage.

Arriving in Turkey’s capital city of Istanbul at 11pm on the 23rd of April 2005, I immediately wondered how the ANZAC soldiers of 1915 would have felt should they have made it this far. The ultimate objective of the Gallipoli landings was to take Constantinople - Istanbul’s former identity. None of them made it further than the Gallipoli peninsula before a retreat was executed in December 1915.

Spanning across two continents, Europe and Asia, the city of Istanbul has a unique sub-continent presence whilst still possessing the charm associated with many European cities.

After a short cab ride to our hotel with a driver, who we were convinced was a formula 1 driver in a previous life, we settled at the hotel bar.

We were kept company by firstly Adem Acar, the bar man who was born in the eastern Turkish city of Ankara. Later we were joined by fellow Australian’s Casey, Simon and Julian (who we later referred to as Paul - reason unknown).

While Adem brought us all up to speed with some Turkish words like “she-de-fa” (cheers) and “tesh-ocur” (thanks), we all shared stories about the ANZAC legend and what our expectations were on seeing the battlefields. There were some jokes from the “Team America” movie in there too.

We retired to our rooms around 2am after spending upwards of $9 million (Turkish Lira) on beer.

The following morning (Sunday 24th April 2005) we rose early and set out to make the most of our short time in Istanbul.

We headed to Sultanahmet district which houses many impressive buildings, more specifically the Blue Mosque, which can be seen from almost anywhere in Istanbul.

Construction on the mosque began in 1609 and it took 7 years to complete. Now it is Istanbul’s most prominent landmark.

Opposite the Blue Mosque is the Church of Hagia Sophia, built in 537 A.D and it was here where we were subjected to the street merchants, who prey on Istanbul’s tourists, looking for any given opportunity to take advantage of them.

Unfortunately for us, we were blind to this opportunity and didn’t think anything of it when we were approached by a short, funny looking man wearing an authentic looking costume and carrying a water cooler on his back.

He offered to pose for a photo with us outside Hagia Sophia and also presented us with a red coloured drink from his water cooler, which we accepted.

After the photo, with both Daniel & myself reluctant to drink, he hung around and was soon joined by a taller, most sinister looking man who demanded payment of $40 Lira each.

We were shocked but more so annoyed with ourselves for getting into such a situation. Some swift negotiating skills got us out of there but not before we parted with several bank notes, albeit not the full amount they originally demanded.

Next we had planned to visit Istanbul’s famous Grand Bazaar, however on the way there we discovered that as Turkey is predominately a Muslim county, the Bazaar is closed on Sundays.

It was probably a good thing too as we had all begun to feel the effects of our stomachs revolting to the red drink, consumed no more than thirty minutes previous.

A short walk to McDonald’s proved our saviour although I’m certain that nightmare images of us having diarrhoea as we camped on the beach at ANZAC had crossed our minds. You could say that it might be apt, as many ANZAC soldiers suffered from diarrhoea due to poor sanitation and the flies swarming the hundreds of sun drenched rotting corpses.

As the afternoon neared, we made sure we stood outside one of Istanbul’s many carpet emporiums talking loudly amongst ourselves for pure novelty value “Where can I get a decent Turkish rug around here?” as several eager carpet sellers tugged at our sleeves.

On the way to our tour meeting point, we returned to a market stall we had passed earlier in the day. We had picked this one because of the unique way we had been greeted by the large man who ran it.

“How can I be taking your money today?” he said with a chuckle that reminded me of the dog from Wacky Races (Mutley?).

All of us made sure we had bought enough souvenirs as needed and we were soon at the Fez Travel offices, our meeting point.

We were early so we went and sat on the roof top terrace of the bar next door, which overlooks the Marmara sea, which joins to the Black Sea.

There we met Luke from Melbourne, who was on the same tour as us. As we swapped “tell me about yourself” stories, chants from the near-by mosques could be heard over loud speakers.

The chants are surprisingly relaxing when accompanied by the hot sun and a cool sea breeze.

At 3pm we were on the tour bus accompanied by 49 fellow pilgrims, mostly Australian with the odd Kiwi thrown in.

The five and a half-hour drive was not surprisingly long and full of discomfort. What kept us going was the anticipation of our arrival at ANZAC cove.


“Amid all the tears, the flag waving and cheers, we sailed of for Gallipoli.”


11pm on the 24th of April and we had “landed” at ANZAC along with 800 other buses. An estimate of 17,000 people - the highest attendance ever crowded the beach and grandstands that had been erected specifically for the dawn service.

We struggled to find a spare piece of grass to set up camp but eventually we had commandeered a section of dirt and grass to the right of the stage.

No sleep at this point and gave up trying at around 3am. The prelude to the dawn service was due to start at 4:30am so I went for a short walk around while Daniel & Brent slept comfortably in their sleeping bags.

A few others and I were quite angered by the videos, which included the Bee Gees singing “Stayin’ Alive” that were shown as “filler entertainment” despite the popular John Farnham and the Finn Brothers (of Crowded House, Split Enz fame) being deemed inappropriate for the occasion.

When that particular song came on, I happened to be standing next to Mary, a mother of three from Brisbane, who had made the journey to ANZAC for the second consecutive year. She was completely appalled that there was any “entertainment” at all.
“Last year there was nothing. We all arrived and spoke amongst ourselves but it allowed us to feel the chills of the ANZAC legend.”

“The music really detracts from why we are here. We are hear to pay our respects, not to be entertained.”

I headed back to our “camp” and woke up the boys, as the prelude was about to begin.

The prelude lasted for nearly an hour and featured a documentary of the ANZAC story, narrated by radio legend John Laws and a stirring poem written and recited by Rupert McCall.

Note: I’ve been trying to find the words to the poem so I can include them here but so far I haven’t been very successful. It was a very moving poem though.

The prelude was soon over and the dignitaries of the Dawn Service began arriving in single file. Amongst the many soldiers in attendance were Australian Prime Minister John Howard, his New Zealand counter-part Helen Clark and the Prince of Wales.

There were several readings and speeches in the beginning of the service, followed by addresses by each of the Prime Ministers.

Both were equally moving but there was one line from John Howard’s speech that really stood out.

In closing his speech, he said “The last of our Gallipoli veterans are now gone. Yet their spirit and their legacy remains eternal for those who follow in their footsteps.”

As he finished those words the sea breeze was light but chilly and the silence that fell on the crowd was almost ghostly. I think everyone realised that we are all here to not only to pay respects to those who had fallen before us but as John Howard said we are here to honour their legacy.

The remainder of the dawn service was emotional but not as much as I had expected. Due to the number of people present, I found it hard to make any sense of the feelings rushing through my head.

Towards the end of the dawn service, the customary two-minute silence was abandoned after thirty seconds as many people, mostly Turkish continued speaking throughout and the Turkish security guards felt it an appropriate time to make announcements over their loud speakers.

These incidents made more emotional that the service itself. Disrespect was the word that entered my head immediately.

At the conclusion of the service as the masses headed up the hill towards Lone Pine, the Australian Memorial and the venue for the Australian service, We ventured down onto the beach of ANZAC Cove.


“Well I remember that terrible day, when our blood stained the sand and the water.”


As I stood there, I turned to look at the intimidating cliffs that towered over the cove and tried to picture what it must have been like for the ANZAC’s to land here under heavy Turkish fire.

Again, the number of people around made this near impossible. I did, however manage to take a few good photos that I think captured the sombre feeling I had expected to experience.

There has been many theories regarding the landing at ANZAC cove and one of the more popular is that the Australian and New Zealand troops simply drifted to the wrong cove by mistake.

However an article by Gallipoli historian Ali Babur Arsanu suggests the landing at ANZAC was very much on purpose.

Intelligence received from an English air reconnaissance mission noted that Brighton Beach (ANZAC’s original landing point) was heavily defended by the Turks and any attempted landing there would have suffered a great number of casualties.

ANZAC Cove, slightly north of Brighton Beach, on the other hand was only lightly defended, and the Turks would not have expected a landing here.

Armed with this knowledge General Sir William Birdwood gave the last minute order to alter the landing site.

The first Australians set foot on the peninsula at 4:30am on the 25th April. The Turks defending the beach were outnumbered ten to one and quickly retreated inland.

It was a quick victory for the ANZAC’s and minimal casualties were suffered.


“Johnny Turk, he was ready, he primed himself well. He showered us with bullets and he rained us with shells”


From ANZAC Cove, we began the long walk up hill to Lone Pine, the site of the Australian War Memorial and the venue for today’s Australian Service.

Moving at a slow pace upwards, the walk too somewhere near one and a half hours with most of us walking in single file up hill, step by step. After a sleepless night many people were quite agitated and anyone trying to move quickly ahead of the line was suitably dealt with.

When we arrived at the top of the hill, we discovered that large Turkish Kebab stalls had created a bottleneck that everyone had to pass through. This did nothing to ease any frustration we might have been feeling.

Arriving at Lone Pine after having seen pictures of it that depicted tranquillity and silence, I was in complete shock. Temporary grandstands had been erected around the place and the Australian War Memorial had become “Lone Pine Stadium”.

At precisely 5.30 p.m. on 6 August 1915, men of the 2nd, 3rd and 4th Battalions from New South Wales rose from concealed trenches in no-man’s-land to charged straight at the Turkish trenches. By dusk, most of the Turkish front line was in Australian hands.

The Turkish had placed great importance on their position at Lone Pine although they had not expected an attack here. They were ordered to retake the trenches and for three full days the battle continued until the area was rampant with corpses and wounded soldiers.

Lone Pine now contains 4223 memorial stones and 651 burial sites of fallen Australian soldiers.

As Brent headed off to the New Zealand memorial, Daniel & I trudged through the crowds and tried to find a place to sit.

We found a patch of grass on a hill but the side of a grandstand interrupted our view and I was forced to watch several disrespectful Australians make themselves comfortable on the memorial graves.

Given the whole idea of attending ANZAC Day is to pay your respects to those who lost their lives, I had enough of what I had seen.

As Daniel & I walked out of Lone Pine, I wondered how the families of deceased soldiers would have felt had they seen these people being so disrespectful of their relatives grave site. I know how I would have felt.

The one good thing to come out of not staying in the Australian service was that as we carried on upwards towards Chunuk Bair, where the New Zealand service was to be held, we had each and every other memorial site completely to ourselves.

Quinn’s post, was the first memorial site we came across and my immediate thought was that this is what I came for.

Pristine white memorial stones, neatly trimmed grass, a calm sea breeze, smothered by the hot sun and most importantly…silence. We sat for a moment to take appreciate our surroundings.

Quinn’s Post was named after Major Hugh Quinn, who along with his men held this ANZAC position against ferocious Turkish attacks for nearly a week. He was killed here on the 29th of May although his body lies in Shrapnel Valley.

The fighting that took place at Quinn’s post had an unequalled intensity that carried on until mid-June of 1915, with the hand-made bombs and aggressive tunnelling below ground giving the post a fearful reputation.

One danger that made Quinn’s particular fearsome was the sharp-eyed Turkish snipers. A solider merely had to raise their head briefly over their trench’s parapet and they would be taken out instantly.

“In five minutes flat, well he blew us to hell. He nearly blew us right back to Australia.”

As we continued on upwards, we passed many roadside trenches that have been restored in order to preserve their original state. What we later realised that there were trenches on both sides of the road and the road was what the soldiers used to refer to as “no man’s land”.

No man’s land, in this case no wider than 5 meters, was typically the space in between opposing trenches. Occasionally men would attempt to retrieve their fallen comrades’ bodies from here but would soon end up joining them.

Following on from Quinn’s post was the Turkish Memorial. A larger than life monument of a Turkish solider facing down hill guards their memorial site. As their service was going on at the time, we paid our silent respects and moved on.

The Nek was the next cemetery up the hill. Its legend formed the climatic ending for Peter Weir’s film, starring Mel Gibson, called Gallipoli, filmed in Australia in 1981.

From 4:30am on the 7th of August, during a period of forty-five minutes, 234 soldiers of the Light Horse Brigade were killed. A further 138 were seriously wounded.

It was precisely at 4:30am that artillery fire from below was to cease and the men of the light horse were to charge at a distracted enemy. Unfortunately for the light horse, watches of commanding officers were not synchronised and the firing stopped early.

Despite this, the men from the 8th battalion, or the first wave, were ordered to proceed as planned.

As those brave men leaped from their parapets they were cut down almost instantly with rapid machine gun fire from the Turks, who had ample time to re-gather their positions.

Many of Australian’s who know about Gallipoli do so due to Weir’s film, although there is a mistake in the nationality of the commanding officer who gave the order to push on.

Weir’s film depicts this officer as British and this has caused many an Australian to hold the British responsible for those lives lost at The Nek, however it was indeed an Australian officer who commanded troops to proceed at all costs.

Following the devastating loss of life of the first wave attack, Brigadier General Fredrick Hughes questioned the point of sending more men over to his commanding officer Brigade Major Jack Antill- also known as The Bullant.

Antill gave the order “Push On” to which Hughes responded to do so would be “nothing but bloody murder”. Hughes was over-ruled.

And so wave after wave of young Australian Light Horsemen attempted to breach the parapets into no man’s land. Many never made it more that five yards. Those who did were shot by Turkish riflemen, now sitting two deep out of their trenches.

These were the scenes that Daniel and I imagined as we wandered amongst the memorial stones.

“And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive, while the corpses around me piled higher.”

On to Baby 700, called so as it was marked on ships’ maps as being 700 feet above sea level although it was actually only 590 feet.

Thirty-three Australian soldiers are buried here along with ten New Zealanders, one British and four hundred and forty nine unknown soldiers.

With the sun belting down on us as midday approached, Daniel & I took the opportunity to rest by the cement wall marking the entrance to the memorial.

This area was one of the first to be taken by the ANZACs, but they were later driven back by a determined Turkish battalion. It was never reached again by any of the allied forces.

The Turkish service had finished and as we rested at the entrance of Baby 700, groups of school children approached us enthusiastically wanting to practise their English.

One small girl asked me a series of questions you would expect in an interrogation room and each answer simply posed even more questions. As their teacher led them to the next memorial, we were greeted with another wave of students, again asking more questions.

Sensing we could be here for a while, we took this as our queue to leave and continued walking up the now increasingly steep hill to Chunuk Bair, the site of the New Zealand memorial.

While only ten Kiwis’ are buried at Chunuk Bair, the site holds 850 memorial stones for New Zealand’s fallen soldiers.

Although I did not attend the New Zealand service, Brent told me it was very emotional and close-knit and as I imagined it would be due to the smaller number of Kiwis attending. It was what I had envisaged the Australian service to be.

This concluded the official ANZAC Day events so we made our way back to the bus. With over 800 buses lined up, this proved slightly more difficult at first but we were soon on the road back to Istanbul.

A short cab ride saw us back at our Istanbul hotel and we soon made a dash for the nearest kebab shop for dinner.

An early rise the following morning and we were on our way back to London.

For Brent, he was pleased he had experienced an emotional service, one which Kiwi national pride sang out from Chunuk Bair. Although exhausted, Daniel was happy as ever to have had the once-in-a-lifetime chance to visit the ANZAC site.

I, on the other hand, hold the feeling of unfinished business. I have now seen the site of the ANZAC legend. I can say I attended the 90th anniversary of ANZAC Day.

Charles W Bean, the official war historian of Gallipoli said “Before the war, who had ever heard of ANZAC. After the war, who shall forget it.”

As those words ring in my head I vow to myself that some day I will return to ANZAC Cove. This time, there will not be 17,000 people. There will not be a large TV screen playing concerts. And there will not be any disrespect shown to the graves and memorials of our fallen soldiers.

Lest we forget.

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Photos

Mosque in the Morning
Spectacular views in Istanbul

Priceless Photo
Actually, it cost us $20 Lira to take this photo!

Question?
Does anyone know where I can buy a decent Turkish Rug around here?

Morning has broken
Dawn at ANZAC Cove

Patriotic...and then some
Standing on the beach at ANZAC Cove on 25th of April, 2005 - 90 years after the ANZACs landed.

Disrespect!
If anyone knows this girl, please slap her when you next see her.

Memorial Service?
The sight of Lone Pine (Stadium!) before the Australian service.

ANZAC, the legend
A sombre sight at 6am in the morning

This is what I came for
The lonely memorial stones are well shaded from the sweltering heat.

The charge at The Nek
What are your legs? Steel Springs.
What are they going to do? Hurl me down the track. How fast can you run? As fast as a leopard. How fast ARE you going to run? As fast as a leopard. Right. Well let's see you do it!

Trenches
it's so amazing to see just how close together all these trenches are.

Comments

[anonymous]

awesome post
Awesome post mate. Really captures a lot of the detail and experience. Found your article when I was looking up some facts I had forgoten, which I wanted to include in my article. Not going to bother now, because I know where to find yours! - Elias Bizannes