August 9th, 1915

[curranl]

Hello All,

The following is from the war diary of 2 Lt Campbell of the 6th Royal Irish Rifles. He was wounded in the assault on a Turkish position on the morning of the 9th. He struggled back from the firing line, having been wounded twice in the leg:

I then tried to proceed on all fours, but I had only gone a few yards when a young broad shouldered Gurka detached himself from his fellows, who were resting in a cleft in the hillside, picked me up and throwing me across his shoulder, trotted off with me.

I feel at a loss when I try to describe this man's act. It was completely and absolutely outside the range of his duty. It was probably against orders, besides he had been in action the three previous days and had only been out of the line for a few hours. Thus he must have been weary, if not in a state of exhaustion. Yet in spite of all this, he did not hesitate to come to my assistance. Undoubtedly he risked his life and I do not think I would have escaped further injury if it had not been for him, for I should have been rash enough to have pursued my way unaided. By that time parties of Turkish snipers had worked their way round our left flank and commanded with their fire stretches of the route I should have had to take and moving as slowly as I would have had to, I should have been an easy target. As it was, in spite of the precautions he took, I recieved another wound, also in my leg, when a lump of lead from a bullet that struck a rock close to me penetrated my shinbone.

He carried me for over an hour, I generally put it down to two hours. From cover to cover he bore me, now at the double and again slowly, stooping to take advantage of the shelter here and there afforded by the banks on each side of the track. At each halt he carefully tucked me under the bank, sat down beside me and nursed my injured member in his lap. It was exceedingly hot, being about one o' clock, and the perspiration poured down his face. At one point I was suffering from thirst and indicated the fact to him. He nodded comprehension and pointed to a place further on. Eventually we came to the well he had in mind. I mention this incident because it illustrates the many risks my rescuer took. The well was situated in a broad flat area at the junction of three gullies. It was ominously deserted and there were many bodies lying around. Obviously the Turk had his eye on it. This however did not deter my dark friend. Having placed me in a safe place, he took my bottle and made his way towards the well, worming himself along on the flat of his stomach. He was fully five minutes reaching it and as many returning. To me it seemed as if he would never get back, and what a relief when he eventually suceeded. The water was pure and deliciously cool and how we did enjoy it.

After what I believe to have been two hours we reached a First Aid post where we found a doctor and two orderlies. Here he deposited me on the ground. I turned a moment to speak to the doctor and put my hand in my pocket to get a sovereign to bestow on my rescuer as a token of my gratitude, but when I turned around again he had disappeared and I do not know his name or his unit nor had I even thanked him. He did what he thought was his duty and left it at that. This brave lad was out for neither praise nor reward. May God bless and reward him.

Remembering today the fallen of 10th Irish Division on Gallipoli and particularly the men, North and South, of 6th Royal Irish Rifles.

May they rest in peace.

Regards,

Liam

[markinbelfast]

fantastic post!

[Desmond7]

Agreed.

Des

[marina]

Great story.

Marina