Military historian Dr Christopher Pugsley gives the New Zealand Herald a tour of the Gallipoli Peninsula, Turkey.
Signs of epic campaign still visible in the rugged landscape
You can learn only so much from books.
The multitudinous historical accounts of the ill-fated campaign at Gallipoli tell of all its famous battles and landmarks: Anzac Cove, Walker's Ridge, Chunuk Bair, Quinn's Post, Shrapnel Valley.
But it's not until you make the pilgrimage to the Turkish peninsula that you get a full understanding of what happened there a century ago.
The eight-month World War I stalemate has left its mark on the picturesque landscape.
Standing on the skinny stretch of stony beach at Anzac Cove, terraces where New Zealand and Australian troops dug makeshift huts that would be their home for months are clearly visible today.
Across the rugged battlefield, trenches can still be seen zig-zagging through the thick scrub.
"For anyone who comes to Gallipoli for the first time, it doesn't matter how much reading you have done, Gallipoli stuns you," said military historian Dr Christopher Pugsley.
"It's always different to what you imagine. It's much smaller, compact ... and with places like Chunuk Bair, Quinn's Post ... there's a tremendous amount to see.
"I always believe that the boys tap you on the shoulder and tell you, 'You're in the right spot.'"
For 35 years Dr Pugsley, who wrote Gallipoli: the New Zealand Story, has been coming to the stretch of land at the entrance to the strategic Dardanelles strait.
Yesterday, he gave the Herald a tour of the battlefield.
The first port of call was Anzac Cove, where the New Zealand and Australian troops landed on April 25, 1915.
One hundred years ago, the beach was sandy and about 20m wide.
Now, it's stony and no more than 5m wide.
Yesterday it was also crawling with Anzac tourists laying poppies and taking photos just days ahead of the centenary commemorations.
Historian Christopher Pugsley looks out from Walker's Ridge cemetery. Photo / Alan Gibson
From the beach, looking towards a jutting block of rock known by the Anzacs as the Sphinx, Dr Pugsley points out contours where terraces were carved into the land. About 1500 soldiers excavated crude dug-outs in the earth, pinning groundsheets together with sticks. These would be their accommodation for much of the bloody stand-off.
Travelling from the coast up to the highest point the Anzacs ever reached - Chunuk Bair at 266m - Dr Pugsley shows all of the high ground held by the defending Turks.
It is striking to witness just how little ground the Anzacs ever held.
They only ever made it 1.2km inland. For eight months, 30,000 Allied troops lived on the tiny stretch of doomed territory, much of it exposed to Turkish firepower.
Quinn's Post is the most striking example. Kiwi machine-gunners snatched the 10m strip of land within hours of landing on April 25.
Australian troops took control of it the following day and it was named after their commander, Captain Hugh Quinn.
Surrounded by Turks from above on three sides, the position quickly earned a reputation as the most dangerous place on the peninsula.
The supply route was up a steep, narrow defile known as Shrapnel Valley, which led up to Monash Gully. The frontlines were just 20m apart.
Both sides dug underground tunnels towards each other, coming within almost touching distance.
Behind the flat strip at Quinn's Post were seven carved terraces. Sandbags were stacked high to protect troops, and that is where 300 soldiers lived in reserve.
It was so tenable that "we should've been knocked off it", Dr Pugsley believes.
"[Lieutenant-Colonel William] Malone did the impossible and made it impregnable. I'm staggered, even now."
The Kiwi and Australian troops had to fight bitterly to keep hold of the land. They relented only when the decision came to evacuate Turkey in late 1915.
At Walker's Ridge, our photographer/videographer Alan Gibson laid a poppy at the gravesite of his great-great-uncle Herbert A. Knight, who was shot and killed on May 8, 1915.
He lies near Auckland Mounted Rifles squadron commander Captain Alfred Charles Bluck, shot and killed by a sniper on May 18.
The 38-year-old had to be buried at night, away from Turkish snipers. His men dug his grave. During the service, in pitch black, a stray bullet killed his squadron sergeant major, Joseph Marr. They are now buried alongside each other.
From there, we pressed on upwards to Chunuk Bair - one of the greatest battles in New Zealand military history.
The plan had been for New Zealand troops to attack the high ground of Chunuk Bair in the pre-dawn of August 7.
But a decision by drunk brigade commander Colonel Francis Johnston to delay the attack proved fatal. It happened in daylight and 300 men were shot dead within 100m, Dr Pugsley said.
Johnston, a British Army officer seconded to the New Zealand Expeditionary Force, ordered a bayonet charge by the Wellington Battalion.
But Malone refused to charge in daylight. Instead, he came up Chunuk Bair under the cover of darkness and successfully grabbed the peak from the poorly prepared Turks. The Kiwis furiously dug foxholes for some cover as the Ottoman forces launched ferocious counter-assaults. The foxholes are today filled with pine needles.
"The men dug in behind dead bodies which they used as a parapet," Dr Pugsley said.
When the historian first came to Chunuk Bair 35 years ago, he scraped back the earth and pine needles to find human bones and a soldier's canteen.
Today, the bones are still there beneath and earth and more debris.
"People don't realise the significance of this particular piece of trench.
"This is New Zealand turf. Here is small-town New Zealand."
Dr Pugsley is a renowned expert on battlefields. The former senior lecturer in war studies at the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst has visited Normandy more than 40 times, as well as several trips to Crete, Italy, and North Africa.
This is his 18th visit to Gallipoli - a place he's brought all three of his children.
And yet, every time it draws from him an emotional reaction.
"It's hard not to," he said yesterday. "I always look at the names and say, these are faces in the street. Here, we are surrounded by New Zealand voices."
