[H.F] Memoirs: Gallipoli
Memoirs: Gallipoli
A Historical Fiction
A story based on the events of the Gallipoli Campaign from April 1915 - January 1916 of the First World War.
***
Thousands of young boys from the South Pacific joined the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) to fight for the British Empire of WWI. They were sent to a place thousands of miles from their homes, and told to fight an enemy they knew nothing about. This is their story.
Prelude
4:30 AM April 25, 1915
***
The ocean was silent, the sounds of the boats hitting the waves were the only things to be heard, and a beach, less than a half mile ahead of them, was still. Men began to pray, muttering phrases learned from their mothers so many years ago. Their breathing could now be heard, heavy, slow, prepared.They had told them the Turks were weak. That they had no knowledge of warfare, and that God was not on their side. They had told them the British Empire could not be defeated, that the Lord would protect them, and that they had received superior training and equipment.
They had told them they would win.
The boy remembered his last day in Australia, where their departure was marked by rain. A bad omen, he thought, as the tugboats lurched forward, carrying the small rowboats the men had piled into. Suddenly, a small whine could be heard. It drew closer to them, growing louder as it came. They looked up, nothing could be seen.
An explosion. A boat, two from theirs, had now disappeared. Nothing but flames, charred remnants of the hull, and human remains, could be seen.
Many more whines could now be heard. One after another, they kept coming, exploding, splashing, landing all around. The barrage had begun.
Screams could be heard in the distance as commanding officers yelled orders at their men.
"Thirty seconds!", a loud Australian voice called from rear of the boat.
"Check weapons and ammunition, expect heavy resistance.", a Captain instructed over the noise and confusion.
The boy began to say a prayer himself, kissing the cross hanging from his neck.
"Prepare to unload!", the voice said again.
The boy braced himself as a shell landed no further than twenty yards from their boat. The water was cold, sending fear through his bones as it fell upon his body.
"Now! Now! Now!", the Captain suddenly ordered.
Men began to climb from the boat, waist deep in water. The bombardment still had not ended, and amiss the noise and confusion, the boy lost the location of his captain. The Turks opened fire. Bullets from Turkish machine guns ripped through the young men from Australia and New Zealand, the thud of bullets hitting their bodies echoed in the boy's ears. Rifles cracked, and clouds of blood could be seen in the murky water. Utter chaos ensued, and the boy felt alone in this God-forsaken place. But he knew he must not die, he must live. He must get back to Australia.
Men continued to fall in front of the boy, behind him, all around him. He was frightened, yet adrenaline rushed through his veins as he moved forward. He had to make it to the beach, as the Captain explained earlier. The beach would protect them. The boy did not understand, but he had to make it to the beach, before he too was dead.
Chapter 1
6:45 PM September 14, 1914
***The boy stood on the rocky shore, overlooking the South Pacific. The sun began to set, and its warmth flowed over the boy's body, creating a sense of security within him. Jonathon Martin was seventeen years old, a strong young man from a wealthy Australian family, whose childhood dreams were to one day become part of something larger than him, larger than his secluded life at home on the Australian coast. That dream had finally become a reality.
It started while he was still at school, still a young boy with friends whose lives were centered on getting out, escaping the prison that had held them there to learn for so many years. Jonathon's parents wanted him to focus on college. He was a smart boy, with all the necessary tools to succeed just as his father had. Yet the boy knew that this was not his destiny, not God's plan intended for him.
The war had started, the war thousands of miles away from Australia. The British Empire propelled its territories into a conflict larger than the Empire itself, and no one in Australia knew what to think of it. No one knew what to think, no one knew how to react, except Australia's sons, who were united through the fact that this was their opportunity, their chance to finally make something of their secluded lives. This was their chance for adventure, honor, and most of all, glory. This was finally their chance to leave Australia, and see the world.
The sun had now set beneath the sky, and a thin mist now hung in the air, soothing the boy's thoughts. He had been to this place many times before, away from Australia's problems, his problems, and he felt at home within his heart. Yet this might be the last time Jonathan would sit and think on this placid beach, and he knew this all too well. Tomorrow he would enlist, tomorrow he would join the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps to serve his country, and the Empire.
Perhaps his friends would come with him, he was not sure for he had not talked the matter over with them. He was a social teenage boy, a natural born leader, but this decision had come on his own without conversing with his friends. The boy was proud of this particular fact, for he knew he had not been influenced by a recruiter, nor propaganda, nor his even more convincing aquaitances. Unlike so many other boys in Australia, Jonathan wanted to serve his country because he felt it was his destiny, his Personal Legend, and his ultimate goal in life.
Of course he told no one this, it would be treason to his decision, because he would know in his heart he was boasting over the matter. He wanted to keep his thoughts and his secrets to himself, a trait that would prove to be of quality while in Gallipoli. But at this point, the boy knew nothing of Gallipoli, or of the war, or of the Ottoman Empire. The boy only knew of himself, and the decision he was about to make.
Chapter 3
***
The line strecthed out the door of the recruiter's station, with hundreds of boys prepared to enlist in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps. Many of the young men were trembling with fear, nervous about the decision they were about to make. Yet most were jeering and laughing amongst their friends, who had accompanied them to the recruiter's station and were prepared to enlist as well.
Jonathon Martin stood among these boys, and unlike many of his companions he was not trembling from nerves nor talking amongst his friends. Instead, a thoughtful and serious look could be seen beside his calm features as he stood erect, scanning the crowd in front of him while he waited in line. Each young man held his own paperwork, conataining personal information as well as physical characteristics.
Above the shouting, an officer could be heard. "In line now boys! Please stand in linear order! I won't have insubordinate soldiers under my command!"
The newspapers sent photographers to snap pictures of Australia's sons prepared to fight an enemy they knew nothing about. The officer then stood next to the young men, now in perfect linear order, and stood formally upright as the photographers continued to take pictures. He was beaming at his small window of fame.
The wait seemed to last for hours. It was a hot, humid day and many of the young men still waiting in line began to complain, already forgetting their recent enthusiasm to enlist in the armed forces. Jonathon waited patiently, quietly, and above all, excitedly for his turn to step to the recruiter's table.
The line continued to move forward, and Jonathon soon found himself through the doors or the recruiting station. The air was hot and sticky inside, and the aroma of old beer and plenty of dust filled Jonathon's nostrils. Not exactly the impression he had expected when he walked into the station.
Finally, a loud, obnoxious voice called, "Next!"
Jonathon stepped forward to the recruiter's table, amongst fifteen other boys spread across the long table. Each was addressed by a differnet military advisor.
"Name and age," the advisor ordered.
"Jonathon Martin, seventeen years old," the boy responded quickly.
"Let me see your papers mate," the advisor asked Jonathon.
Jonathon handed his paperwork to the advisor, who appeared to be around twenty five years of age. He pored over the paperwork through his thin rimmed glasses, frequently looking up at Jonathon as if to make sure he was still paying attention.
"Do you consider yourself physically and medically fit for active service in the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps?" the advisor asked casually.
The question surprised Jonathon. He had expected some sort of medical examination, but apparently all they wanted was a verbal confirmation. He stumbled over his words.
"Uh, yes- yes of course! Sir! Yes sir I am physically and medically capable to perform any tasks required of a soldier."
"Are you sure of that mate?" The advisor eyed him suspiciously.
"Yes sir, it's just that- well, in fact I expected a medical examination, or some sort of physical exam. But I can assure you I'm medically and physically apt for the military," Jonathon stated more confidently.
"If you say so mate, it's your ass not mine." He pounded an APPROVED stamp in red ink on his paperwork, then handed it to the assistant standing behind him, who subsequently placed it in a rough-looking file cabinet. "Proceed to your left all the way down to the fellow in uniform, where you'll collect weapons and equipment."
Jonathon did as instructed, and walked along the table until he saw the officer. As he walked along the table, he noticed each collection of paperwork he saw for any particular soldier had the APPROVED stamp on the front, and it occured to him that not one had been rejected. Perhaps just a coincidence, he thought. Yet the more he thought, he never remembered any dejected young men coming out of the recruiting station while he was waiting in line. No one who appeared to have their heart crushed because all of their dreams had been denied. No one who was rejected from the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.
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Re: [H.F] Memoirs: Gallipoli
i like it very much, you already heard my suggestions, posting just seems more official
Originally Posted by LuckyLewis
