Fear, however, would predominantly have been the prime emotion, one would've thought. The Turks, who had prepared their defences for months, were dug in with machine-gun nests and trained rifles.
They were instructed to reinforce the Diggers on the high ground to the left.
Auckland Battalion came under heavy fire as they headed for the clay slopes of Walker's Ridge but soon got turned around and went up Plugge's Plateau.
For the next eight months, Anzac Cove would become the lifeline for Kiwi and Australian troops. All food, supplies, and ammunition arrived on the 800m stretch of beach. It was about 20m wide - about the length of a cricket pitch - then.
Now, with decades of erosion, it's less than 5m wide.
Jacketed ancestral pilgrims this week paid tributes to long-lost forefathers, laying poppies at beachside gravestones.
One of them at Ari Burnu Cemetery is Henry Hayward Harrison who was shot in the neck by a Turkish sniper at Walker's Ridge while standing and smoking after being warned by colleagues to keep his head down.
He was carried down to the beach by his brother Charles Benjamin Harrison - who would later die at Chunuk Bair - and buried in a rock-covered grave.
The clear warm water of the Aegean Sea is said to be littered with the bones of missing men, shot, blown up, killed, to never be found.
Remnants of battle can still be found among the colourful stones rippled by the fresh breeze whipping in from the north-west.
Rum jug remnants are plentiful. An Australian mate snorkelled there a decade ago and found rusted bullets - some whole - which he snuck home.