Though he had some narrow escapes up to the time of writing (May 24), he had come off unscratched. He had, however, been invalided for a few days owing to sickness.

Extracts from his letter read:

‘I suppose you have heard by this time that we have been in action, and I can tell you we have had what is called a lively time of it. We landed on the 25th April. My Battalion was transported from Alexandria on a boat called Miniwaska, and then we landed into torpedo boats. I was on board HMS Usk. Then we left the torpedo boats and landed in life boats. While we were doing this shrapnel was falling round us. We were not the first to land, but were not much behind the first. The third Brigade landed about dawn under a heavy fire, on a position which was supposed to be impregnable. But the boys did not wait to fire their rifles. They jumped into the water up to their waist and charged ashore with bayonets, and what was left of them charged the Turks up the hill. We landed about six o’clock and just got on the beach when some of our boys were bowled over. We then went over the hill right into the thick of the firing. I was with the major, but he was hit in the head soon after we got there. There were about 20 of us in the little crowd that went up first, and there is only a lieutenant and myself left. It was a real hell on earth to be in such a place. There were wounded all round, but my word they behaved bravely. The shrapnel seemed to be all round us, and they had, or seemed to have, hundreds of machine guns against us. This lasted all day and night. I was glad when night came on. Then on the Monday things were not much better. We had charge on Monday night, and seemed to be facing all the Turks machine guns. I might say there were not many of us returned. It is hard to see your mates cut down alongside and we can not stop to do anything for them. All the Battalions seemed to be mixed up. I was fighting with the Fourth for about three days. Then we got a little bit of a spell, and the Battalions all seemed to be able to gather their own men together. I was made a corporal, and am now senior corporal in my platoon, and if I can hold on I will soon be sergeant. We are well established now, we have good trenches and fairly good cover. Do not be under the impression that the Turks cannot shoot, for they have some wonderful shots. But we will give them all they want. They are frightened of us. They call us the ‘White Gurkhas’, and they are led to believe we are cannibals, and a lot are frightened to surrender for fear we will eat them. I think the German officers tell them this. They try all sorts of ruses to get us to charge, and they try to blow our charge on the bugle. But we never use bugles in wartime. I have mentioned the great warships and the wonderful part they are playing. I was watching a Turk’s trench the other night, and just after one of our big guns blew some of them clean out of the trench. I was General Bridges’ bodyguard one day, and we were walking along the beach, and I was hit near the eye with a shrapnel bullet, but it glanced off and never did much damage. I was thankful for a narrow escape, though I have had closer shaves than that. But I will not talk about them yet. I may have another chance again some day. I am now in hospital with my ears, but hope to be back with the boys in the line in a few days. The boys are still in good spirits, and get good food for war time. I hope to have another chance of writing again, but I will say good-bye now.'

N Pittendrigh

From Gloucester resident Helen Banks (nee Pittendrigh). The letter was from her great uncle Norman Thomas Pittendrigh. He lost his life at Gallipoli, missing in action, on August 6, 1915.