ANZAC Day is a day of National Remembrance in Australia and New Zealand to honour the members of the Australia and New Zealand Army Corps who fought at Gallipoli and all those who served and died in military operations for their countries. This year marks the 98th anniversary of the landings on 25th April at what is now known as ANZAC Cove. This campaign is widely recognised as the first major action by Australian and New Zealand troops and it was one in which their losses exceeded 11,000 dead. It was also the occasion for the epic swim to shore in total darkness by General Freyberg VC (#3174 on the tree) in advance of further landings. As a British born New Zealander, Freyberg who later became Governor-General of New Zealand participated in ANZAC Day celebrations every year for the rest of his life. For him and for all our family members with antipodean connections it is right that we pay tribute.
I have selected a poem entitled Gallipoli by Staff Sergeant Sydney Bolitho of the 6th Battalion Australian Imperial Force (AIF) written in the trenches at Gaba Tepe which was at the southern end of ANZAC Cove. Shortly after writing this poem, Sydney Bolitho received serious injuries and was repatriated but whilst recovering he contracted tuberculosis from which he died in 1919. He was buried with full military honours at the White Hills Cemetery in Bendigo, Victoria, Australia.
Gallipoli
The new dawn lights the eastern sky;
Night shades are lifted from the sea,
The Third Brigade with courage storm
Thy wooded heights, Gallipoli
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
Australians tread Gallipoli.
Thunderous bursts from iron mouths –
Myriad messengers of death,
Warships ply their deadly fire
Watching comrades hold their breath
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
There’s hell upon Gallipoli.
Serried ranks upon the beach,
Courage beams in every eye
These Australian lads can face
Giant Death, though e’er so nigh,
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
There’s death upon Gallipoli.
On they press in endless stream,
Up the heights they shouting go;
Comrades fall; but still press on
They press the now retreating foe
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
The Turks flee on Gallipoli.
One by one the brave lie low,
Machine Guns, shrapnel do their work;
Brave Australians know no fear,
Never have been known to shirk,
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
Their names carved on Gallipoli.
Reduced, cut up, there numbers show
The murderous fire that swept thy field;
But still victorious they stand,
Who never have been known to yield
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
Thick dead lie on Gallipoli.
For days they hold with grim set grip,
Their feet firm planted on the shore,
Repelling every fierce attack
And cheerfully they seek for more
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
Their trenches line Gallipoli.
For thirty weary days they fight,
For Britain’s sake they give their best;
With uncomplaining voice they stand
And neither look nor ask for rest
Gallipoli ! Gallipoli !
They’ve conquered thee, Gallipoli.
The waves break on thy wave swept shores,
The breeze still blows across thy hills;
But crosses near and far abound,
A sight that deepest grief instils
Gallipoli! Gallipoli !
Their graves lie on Gallipoli.
