Scars of new kind mar Anzac battlefield

The roadworks at Anzac Cove have drastically altered the landscape, until now unchanged since the Gallipoli campaign 90 years ago. Picture / Bill Sellars

Sixty metres from the northern end of Anzac Cove, close to Ariburnu Pt where the first Australian troops landed at dawn on April 25, 1915, cement cascades down the low cliff on to the stones of the beach.

Further along the beach is a second puddle of concrete, like the first set hard. Both were dumped by Turkish contractors building the new road above the cove, work being carried out at the Australian Government's request.

Just two months ago, it was possible to stand above Anzac Cove and look up into the hills and ridges and have the same view New Zealand and Australian soldiers would have seen as they came ashore. The lie of the land and the thick undergrowth was almost exactly as it was in early 1915. Looking up, it helped to understand what those men had to contend with.

Now that link with 90 years ago is broken. The hillsides above the cove, and indeed all along the coastal strip in the sector held by the Anzacs, have been cut back as much as 20m.

Where once hills sloped down to the road there are now cliffs up to 30m high. It is impossible to follow the path of those first soldiers who landed on April 25, sheer rock faces bar the way.

One estimate suggests that by the time all the roadwork is completed, Turkish contractors will have shifted more soil than the Anzacs did digging their rabbit warren of trenches and tunnels.

Statements by Turkey's acting ambassador to Wellington, Hakan Ozdemir, that only 1.5km of road are being upgraded are at best ill informed. At least 5km is being worked on and is expected to be completed by next week.

And Mr Ozdemir's statement that the work is being done in a way that protects the environment lacks credibility.

Early last month, soon after work began, truckloads of soil from the excavations were dumped into Anzac Cove, blocking part of the beach. Despite assurances from Turkish officials that the spoil would be removed it is still there, though spring storms have washed some into the Cove.

This week, in the rush to have the road above the cove ready for the Anzac Day ceremonies, more earth, along with asphalt from the old road, was bulldozed on to the beach, at one point partly obscuring the concrete foundations of a jetty built during the campaign.

It is not just New Zealanders and Australians who have lost sites of historical significance during the road-widening work. The hill overlooking Ariburnu on which the first Turkish soldier fell on April 25 has been cut back 15m.

Inland is Second Ridge, along which the trenches of the opposing forces were established after the initial landings. A car park has been built over the site of the Turkish front line opposite Quinns Post, long defended by men of the Wellington Battalion. At this point, the front lines were less than 10m apart.

For much of its route, the road that runs along Second Ridge before turning up to Chunuk Bair and the New Zealand memorial traces the old "no man's land". On both sides of the road are reminders of the campaign; trenches, tunnels, fragments of rum jars and, especially after rain, fragments of human remains.

Recently announced plans to upgrade this road, also sought by the Australian Government, would - if done on the same scale as the Anzac Cove works - put at risk the fabric of the old battlefield. So too, unless sited carefully, would Turkish plans to build more car parks, one of which is scheduled to be built at Chunuk Bair.

There is no question that the roads on the Gallipoli Peninsula needed repair. No major work had been done on the Anzac Cove road for more than 15 years.

But few of the more than one million Turks who visit the battlefields annually make the trip to Anzac Cove and, the days around April 25 apart, there are only a few busloads of foreign visitors each day.

Maybe the question is whether people of all nations who come here do so out of a sense of respect and commemoration or for tourism. If it is the latter, the road show must go on. If the former, a balance must be struck between future needs and the legacy of the past.

On the night of April 25, 1915, General Sir Ian Hamilton, the commander of the Allied forces invading the peninsula, sent a message to the Anzac commanders after it was decided not to evacuate the beachhead following the heavy losses of the first day.

"You have got through the difficult business; now you only have to dig, dig, dig."

It seems that Hamilton's message has been taken to heart by the Governments of Turkey and Australia.

* Bill Sellars is an Australian journalist and writer who lives on the Gallipoli Peninsula.