Thanks John, some interesting shots there. I never did any military service as our army was wise enough to decline my application I made straight after school. They said I was to young, but I have my doubts
Anyhow, my Grandfather saw plenty of action on Gallipoli and in Egypt during WWI and he recorded his experiences of that time. I have always liked this story of the escaped mountain sheep on Gallipoli:
"There was an Indian mountain-gun battery about half way between Shrapnel Gully and Number One Outpost. They were armed with French seventy-five guns, light artillery, and they had these mules, Mule Gully they called it. They were pretty little things, not like our big ungodly shaped mules you mostly see knocking around, they were really nice, pony mules I’d call them, chestnuts, blacks and beys you know. The Turks used to come and drop bombs on it, killed the mules like, they often flew over and dropped a bomb or two on them, they must have been a thorn in their side.
The Indians used to kill their own sheep and goats and one day a mountain sheep got away from ‘em. We could see from our lines a couple of officers, one Indian and one British, and several others chasing it. It came to our sunken road that was about fourteen feet wide nearly ten feet deep.
Well that bloody sheep leapt that road and came right up to our camp and Dick Cable and I took off after it. It ran up onto this sort of a hog back, a bare clay ridge that ran down to the sea like and up to a ridge in the centre of it.
Anyhow the sheep got on this and there was a track through it. Cable went the other side of the ridge to block it and I climbed up the side the sheep went and I caught it by the leg.
The Turks were shooting at Cable, the dirt was flying up off this ridge you could see all ‘round him, they never hit him but. Anyhow between us we got it back to camp and I cut its throat and skinned it. I reckon that sheep was killed and skinned and cut up quicker than any sheep ever was any time before. We all had a bit of it like, cut the two front legs, the shoulders legs and that, then cut the body of it up and shared it up between the troop, between the squadron actually.
Anyhow I grabbed the skin and took it up to the big incinerator. There was an old shovel there with a long handle on it. I raked a big hole with it in the incinerator, it was always going like, burning all the rubbish up that we left, you couldn’t leave anything about everything had to be burnt. I raked this old ram skin down in and shoveled all the coals over the top of it and just got back to where the rest of ‘em were, meanwhile they had all the other parts of the sheep hidden.
The officers came and said: “Did you see a sheep come through here”? “No we never seen any sheep” they said. Anyhow they went away and they never discovered it, it was the only real fresh meat I had while we were on Gallipoli. That was the only sheep I ever seen on Gallipoli, they never let any more go. They’d have probably met the same fate as the first one, it was good fresh meat I know, I’ve tasted plenty of tenderer ones but it was nice and fresh."