History paper: letter about Gallipoli - Writers Forum

Shiwen · 03-13-2005, 08:12 AM

I am writing a letter as an Australian soldier to his wife/girlfriend. I have to include at least 5 significant events which happened in Gallipoli. I think that in some paragraphs, the writing is not personal enough. Like when describing the historical events for instance. Could you please tell me any corrections, things to add, delete, etc…thanks

-------------------------

Dear Abigail,

How are you? I miss you so much. I ache for your flesh, and the thought of your generous bosom bouncing as you run toward me when I return makes this ordeal all the more arduous. I am having a hard time here and I hope to get back to you as soon as possible. There have been so many deaths; I fear that I may be next.

The day we set sail for Gallipoli was the worst day of my life. I was heartbroken that I would not be seeing you for many years, maybe never again. The ships which took us across to Gallipoli were dirty and had a horrendous stench. The journey to Gallipoli was as boring as watching the mating ritual of a koala. When we finally reached the shores of Gallipoli, all my mates and I rushed towards the cliff, holding our guns tightly ready to fire at the enemies. However, we did not expect to be bombarded with gunfire. They had already set up a detachment of machine-gunners and grenadiers along the top of a cliff at Gallipoli. Pillboxes came alive with gunfire as soon as we were in range. It was horrible, like cattle plodding into the slaughterhouse. I was lucky, because I found a large boulder to hide behind. The next moments I saw were the most horrifying things ever. I was so shocked; everything flicked by so slowly. As my mates tried to clamber for safety behind some boulders, they were shot in the shoulders and their chests. And from that moment on, I knew that my life was changed forever. I stayed behind that boulder for nearly 8 hours, and I thank God, for it definitely saved my life.

In Bigali, there was manoeuvring 19th Division commanded by Mustafa Kemal. By the daylight, Mustafa Kemal heard the gunfire and he understood that the landings had begun. He immediately had informed the Army Commander but did not receive any further assignment. As soon as he was informed about the casualties of the 27th Brigade defending the shores, he comprehended the arduousness of the situation. Without an authority given by the commander, Mustafa Kemal took all the enterprise's responsibility and ordered the 57th Brigade to move to Kocacimentepe. He had gone to Conkbayiri to observe the counter-attack. There he saw some soldiers withdrawing. It was true; the enemy's skirmishers were walking through the Battleship Hill. Imagine that, I had given the forces ten minutes break and the enemy has reached the hill. It meant that the enemy was closer to me then my own army.

As the days passed by, many more soldiers were being injured or killed by the furious gunfire created by the Turks. This resulted in many bodies lying in the battlefield; the majority injured, writhing around helplessly. Then I heard about a courageous man named John Simpson Kirkpatrick. He would walk with his donkey up to Shrapnel Gully. This was the main supply route to the front line, into Monash Valley and onto the deadly zone around Quinn’s Post where the opposing trenches were just 1.5 metres apart. Just to the left of Quinn’s Post was Dead Man’s Ridge, held by the Turks, from where they were able to snipe right down Shrapnel Gully. ‘The Man and His Donkey’ would start his day as early as 6:30am, and he would often continue until 3am. He made the one and a half mile trip, through sniper fire and shrapnel, 12-15 times a day. He would leave his donkey under cover whilst he went forward to collect the injured. On the return journey, he would bring water for the wounded. When I heard of what he was doing, I was immediately astounded as to what one man could do. His activities, in my opinion were heroic.

At about 1.40 pm on 13 November 1915 a small boat arrived at North Beach. From it stepped Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, Commander in Chief of the British Army. He had come to Anzac to see the positions there for himself. As he walked up the pier with other generals, he was recognised and men came running from all over towards the pier where they surrounded the great man. Charles Bean watched Kitchener walk up from the pier. Kitchener spent just over two hours at Anzac surveying the Turkish line from Australian trenches inland of the Sphinx and at Lone Pine. Two days later, after further consultation with senior commanders, he recommended to the British War Cabinet that Gallipoli–Anzac, Suvla and Helles–be evacuated. Without significant reinforcement and the bringing in of considerable artillery resources, little progress could, in his opinion, be made against the strengthening Turkish trenches. This was especially so at Anzac where a further surprise attack, such as had been conducted in August against Chunuk Bair and Kocacimentepe, was virtually impossible. Moreover, local commanders were extremely worried about the problems of supplying Gallipoli throughout the winter with its many severe storms.

My mated and I received very little or no training at all. We were dropped off to the Gallipoli shore, like stunned cows. Most of us were just teenagers, who had no previous experience in fierce gun battle or hand-to-hand combat. I had not received any training either, so I was extremely nervous during all battles. I was very lucky, as I came out practically unscathed in nearly all the battles. Except for one time, when I was shot in the arm by an enemy bullet. The pain was excruciating and unbearable. This moment may have changed my life forever. After being shot in the arm, I lay in the battlefield for several minutes, wincing in pain. I may have been left for dead, had it not been for the heroics of John Simpson Kirkpatrick. He carried me on his donkey, back to camp, where he took me to the nurses. As you can see, the consequence of inferior training is horrendous. I lost a few mates during the course of the war. I starting to feel that joining the war may not have been such a good idea after all. I mean there were the advantages, like being proud to fight for your country, and looking good in uniform. But when you consider the disadvantages, like for instance not putting your life in danger and staying at home with your loved ones. This outweighs the advantages a lot. I wish I could have stayed in Australia to be with you.

The food in Gallipoli was stale and tasted of rotten cheese. For the first few days, we only had a few biscuits and some water. This hardly satisfied my hunger, and by the end of the 1st week, I probably lost a lot of weight. Nearly everyone was getting thinner and feeling unwell at times. This would have affected our alertness and our fitness in the battlefield.

I hope I can come home soon. I would love to see you and everyone safe and feeling well and happy. Keep safe and God bless. Lots of love,

George

--------------------------

Bristol_Thrall · 03-13-2005, 10:14 AM

The Gallipoli tragedy is a well documented and seminal event for the Australian and NZ forces. Many people say it forged those 2 nations.

In my personal opinion, what you have written here is much more like his journal, or diary; definitely NOT a letter. Why?

Wives and girlfriends would not want to know the tactical and field detail. (In fact, how would you - a common soldier - know all this background detail) They would want to know how it makes their menfolk feel. You have to put yourself in the middle of the action - don't describe it impassionately from the 3rd person POV, but step right in there! What do you feel? What do you hear? What do you see and smell? How does fear make you feel and react?

Try to convey these emotions, but then remember you won't want to shock poor old Abigail, so work out the right words for her, that will give her a sense of how terrible it is, but in a way in which she can feel proud of your resoluteness and bravery.

Concentrate a bit more on telling her how much she means to you, and how thinking of her helps you get through this. Be more flowery - 'My Dearest Abigail' is better than 'Dear Abigail'.

I'm not at all sure about your opening line to her:

Quote:

'I ache for your flesh, and the thought of your generous bosom bouncing as you run toward me when I return makes this ordeal all the more arduous. I am having a hard time here and I hope to get back to you as soon as possible. There have been so many deaths; I fear that I may be next.

Your grammatical construction means that the thought of her bouncing bosom makes life even more arduous; in fact, of course, it should give him something to look forward to.

And whatever you do, don't tell her you're going to snuff it next - she wants encouragement during this painful separation, not permanence and a telegram from the Ministry.

So - that's how I think you could make it more letter-like.

Shiwen · 03-13-2005, 10:29 AM

the thing is that, i have to include 5 significant events, i dont really know how to incorporate my self into these events. The events are significant, but how can i be part of them?

valeca · 03-13-2005, 01:56 PM

Here's a couple of ideas.

Give your mate a name. Talk about what happened directly to him and you during those events, like there's a bond there...formed under extreme circumstances (such as on the rotting ship..how you came to be friends). That way it's a personal account and less of fact telling and strategics and gives it a human aspect. Tell what he saw as he would have told it to you. Chances are he's not going to tell you the date and time, just flashes of things and how it pertained directly to him. Talk about how you and he starving together that first week, the possible feelings of cowardice next to the heroics of John Kirkpatrick..feelings of shame associated with helplessness of the attack when landing at the shores. Maybe even talk of losing another mate you'd grown close to...the anger of watching him shot down.

You can still get in the events, but told from a personal view of what happened. You'll get less of an overall picture of the event - a narrower view of what the individual saw.

I didn't really like the opening you have. The jiggling of bosoms as she runs was...well, trite. The feel of holding her, the scent of her instead of the stinking bodies he's had to endure...those I can see. But jiggling boobs..nah.

Keep working this, I think you'll get a more personal letter as you go.

Hope that helped a bit.

Bluenoseuk · 03-13-2005, 03:41 PM

I'd agree with the comment that it is more like a journal than a letter. I think this is far more deeper than a letter. I liked it though, whatever your intention was for this. It documents it well, and it IS perosnal for me. I like it, you could feel the characters fear when he says that he might not ever see his wife again. You can sense the feelings there. Well done. I can't think of anythign to change at the mo, but I'll come back on cast my eye further over it again.

Shiwen · 03-14-2005, 07:07 AM

Here is my revised letter, incorporating all ideas from this forum and another.

-------------------------------
My Dearest Abigail,

How are you? I miss you so much. I ache for your flesh, and the thought of your fragrant scent as you run toward me when I return makes this ordeal all the more arduous. I am having a hard time here and I hope to come home to you as soon as possible.

The day we set sail for Gallipoli was the worst day of my life. I was heartbroken that I would not see you for many years, maybe never again. The ships which took us across to Gallipoli were dirty and had a horrendous stench. The journey to Gallipoli was as boring as watching the mating ritual of a koala. This was until I met a humorous lad named Joey. Joey and I were told to bunk next to each other under extreme conditions; rotting seats and rat infested cabins. During the voyage to Gallipoli, Joey and I forged an unbreakable bond. We were like When we finally reached the shores of Gallipoli, Joey, and I rushed towards the cliff, holding our guns tight ready to fire at the enemies. However, we did not expect to be bombarded with gunfire. The Turks had already set up an encampment of machine-gunners and grenadiers along the top of a cliff at Gallipoli. Pillboxes came alive with gunfire as soon as we were in range. It was horrible, like cattle plodding into the slaughterhouse. I was lucky, because I found a large boulder to hide behind. I saw Joey struggling up the cliff a few metres to my side. So I quickly signalled him to come beside me. The next moments I saw were the most horrifying things ever. I was so shocked; everything flicked by so slowly. I saw another mate that I had grown close to; I called him to the rocks as well. But as he tried to clamber for safety behind some boulders, he was repetitively shot in his chest. I saw one of my best friends die right before my eyes. I heart filled with anger, and I wanted revenge. And from that moment on, I knew that my life had changed forever. Joey and I stayed behind that boulder for nearly 8 hours, and I thank God, for it definitely saved my life. I knew Barry had gone to heaven to be with the Lord, but I could feel my heart pounding with rage and I wanted the Turks to resent ever agreeing with the Germans to fight the war.

The food in Gallipoli was stale and tasted of rotten cheese. For the first few days, we only had a few biscuits and some water. This hardly satisfied my hunger, and by the end of the first week, I probably lost a lot of weight. Nearly everyone was getting thinner and feeling unwell at times. This would have affected our alertness and our fitness in the battlefield. But knowing Joey, he was still pulling out jokes left, right and centre. He was the only person who could keep me from depression throughout the entire span of the war.

In Bigali, there was manoeuvring 19th Division commanded by Mustafa Kemal. By the daylight, Mustafa Kemal heard the gunfire and he understood that the landings had begun. He immediately had informed the Army Commander but did not receive any further assignment. As soon as he was informed about the casualties of the 27th Brigade defending the shores, he comprehended the arduousness of the situation. Without an authority given by the commander, Mustafa Kemal took on the responsibility of the enterprise and ordered the 57th Brigade to move to Kocacimentepe. He had gone to Conkbayiri to observe the counter-attack. There he saw some soldiers withdrawing. It was true; the enemy's skirmishers were walking through the Battleship Hill. Imagine that, the forces ten minutes break and the enemy had reached the hill. It meant that the enemy was closer to me then my own army. Joey and I were exploring the terrain at that time, we found out the enemy troops were walking through the land near us. We were frightened like mice about to be devoured by a python. Joey had the courage of a lion, but I, a mouse. He bravely led us back toward camp; into the arms of safety.

As the days passed by, many more soldiers were being injured or killed by the furious gunfire created by the Turks. This resulted in many bodies lying in the battlefield; the majority injured, writhing around helplessly. Then I heard about a courageous man named John Simpson Kirkpatrick. Inside my heart, there were feelings of cowardice next to the heroics of John Kirkpatrick. He would walk with his donkey up to Shrapnel Gully. This was the main supply route to the front line, into Monash Valley and onto the deadly zone around Quinn’s Post where the opposing trenches were just 1.5 metres apart. Just to the left of Quinn’s Post was Dead Man’s Ridge, held by the Turks, from where they were able to snipe right down Shrapnel Gully. ‘The Man and His Donkey’ would start his day as early as 6:30am, and he would often continue until 3am. He made the one and a half mile trip, through sniper fire and shrapnel, 12-15 times a day. He would leave his donkey under cover whilst he went forward to collect the injured. On the return journey, he would bring water for the wounded. When I heard of what he was doing, I was immediately astounded as to what one man could do. His activities, in my opinion were heroic.

At about 1.40 pm on 13 November 1915 a small boat arrived at North Beach. From it stepped Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, Commander in Chief of the British Army. He had come to Anzac to see the positions there for himself. As he walked up the pier with other generals, he was recognised and men came running from all over towards the pier where they surrounded the great man. Charles Bean watched Kitchener walk up from the pier. Kitchener spent just over two hours at Anzac surveying the Turkish line from Australian trenches inland of the Sphinx and at Lone Pine. Two days later, after further consultation with senior commanders, he recommended to the British War Cabinet that Gallipoli–Anzac, Suvla and Helles–be evacuated. Without significant reinforcement and the bringing in of considerable artillery resources, little progress could, in his opinion, be made against the strengthening Turkish trenches. This was especially so at Anzac where a further surprise attack, such as had been conducted in August against Chunuk Bair and Kocacimentepe, was virtually impossible. Moreover, local commanders were extremely worried about the problems of supplying Gallipoli throughout the winter with its many severe storms.

My mates and I received very little or no training at all. We were dropped off to the Gallipoli shore, like stunned cows. Most of us were just teenagers, who had no previous experience in gun battle or hand-to-hand combat. I had not received any training either, so I was extremely nervous during all skirmishes. I was very lucky, as I came out practically unscathed in nearly all the battles. Except for one miserable day. That day, Joey and my mates had been relieved of duty. I felt nervous and isolated as I ran into the battlefield. That day, I was shot in the leg by an enemy machine-gunner. The pain was excruciating and unbearable. After being shot in the leg, I lay in the battlefield for several minutes, wincing in pain. I could smell the horrible stench of rotting bodies and blood. I would have been left for dead, had it not been for the heroics of John Simpson Kirkpatrick. He carried me on his donkey, back to camp, where he took me to the nurses. After that I was extremely grateful for John and his donkey. Joey and my mates were very caring, because they continued to check up on me as much as possible. As you can see, the consequence of inferior training is horrendous. I lost a few mates during the course of the war. But I know that I killed many a Turk; I got them back for what they did to my best buddies. I think that joining the war may not have been such a good idea after all. I mean there were the advantages, like being proud to fight for your country and not staying behind like a wimp.. But when you consider the disadvantages, like for instance not putting your life in danger and staying at home with your loved ones. This outweighs the advantages a lot. I wish I could have stayed in Australia to be with you. I know that soon I will be at home with you.

I hope I can come home soon. I would love to see you and everyone safe and feeling well and happy. Keep safe and God bless. Lots of love,

George

----------------------------

Bristol_Thrall · 03-14-2005, 02:00 PM

Hi Shiwen
This is a much improved draft, many congratulations.