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George and Mary Scott, Berwick-on-Tweed.


‘The Turks held the high ground when we landed on a beach. Between the beach and the Turks were steep hills that had water-worn gullies and steep, friable ravines just made for ambushes. In heroic- is that really the right word? waves of attack, we tried our best to reverse the Turks' positions by kicking them off the cliffs and holding the high ground ourselves. But the machine-gun fire, sniper fire, the shrapnel, and grenades did our lads in, in spades. We fell like skittles when attacking their trenches, and by the time the order had been given to retreat, our comrades' bodies were stacked up by our foe. I could see there was no way we would win this one.

‘In Scotland, we don't have much of a bother with flies, it being wintry conditions for most of the year. But in Gallipoli, there were millions upon millions of them. Others will undoubtedly talk and write about them at length. Let me say that I think they formed about a third of my diet for several months.’

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