The Bendigo Advertiser publishes part one of Bert's story to honour all service men and women in the lead up to the Anzac Centenary on Saturday.

IN AUGUST 1914 war clouds were gathering over Europe.

I was employed in Yarram (South Gippsland) Victoria, earning £2-7-6 per week. 

After war was declared, I enlisted on September 16th, 1914, and received my training in Broadmeadows, and early in December 1914 we entrained for Port Melbourne.

By midday 1200 of us were on board the "Themistocles!'' my home for the next forty two days.

At 3pm the boat sailed, for I knew not where, but Father Time decided that for me, it was one of the most dangerous, destructive, yet rewarding experiences in all history.

For here the fate of many nations was settled, the British Empire demonstrated her ability to lose every battle but the last one, which lasted over three months finally ending on November 11, 1918.

I soon realised I was a very small, yet essential cog in a huge and complicated adventure called Modern War.

The first port of call was Albany, the first ship to arrive on December 26th 1914.

By December 31st 1914 seventeen other ships arrived.

Early on January 1st 1915 all ships sailed for Colombo, a twelve day voyage on a sea of glass.

Passing Cape Leewin (the last sight of Australia for perhaps well over 50% of the convoy) was a very pleasing picture in three lines of ships, with six in each line.

Colombo to then the next port of call, and a few day later anchored off Suez.

The Turks were not far away, an attack on the canal just four days away.

The Convoy took two days to pass through the canal, anchoring in the lakes at night. I saw all the troops manning the Westbank and patrols moving Eastwards. Not one shot was fired on this canal trip.

Soon I was in Alexandria just forty two days from Melbourne. Next day I disembarked and entrained bound for Cairo.  An interesting journey especially seeing the pyramids for the first time. Down through history from Kings, Emperors, Conquerors, fighting forces and ordinary travellers, all of whom must have seen the pyramids for the first time, just as I saw them this day; I duly arrived in Cairo.

I left with the 1st reinforcement to our 8th Battalion.

Two days after our ship passed through the Canal, the Turks attacked, the 7th and 8th A.I.F. Battalions were sent to Ismailia to support the British troops there.

Soon I was on my way to Ismailia to join my Battalion.

On arrival the reception was short and sweet, Brigadier McKay addressed all new troops as follows "Gentlemen, We give you a very good welcome to your Battalion, and hope you will make good soldiers, you will be issued with 200 rounds of 303, two blankets, two days iron rations, be ready to move to the trenches at 2am tomorrow “dismiss”. This I thought was a quick and lively introduction to war, however the Turks were badly beaten, and the above order countermanded.

Two days later I returned to Cairo by train, then a march to the Mena Camp at the foot of the pyramids.

For the next eight weeks, the desert was my home and training ground, and all night manoeuvres. At night the desert comes cold and clear, the stars appearing very close.

Beginning of April 1915 saw great changes. Early one morning my Battalion marched out of Mena (never to return) to Cairo.   Entrained for Alexandria, by the evening of this day on board the "Clan McGillray" and northward bound finally arriving in Mudros Harbour, Lemnos, about eight days before "The Landing".

Here we practised leaving the ship with full marching orders and rowing ashore, preparing for the big day. The Harbour was crowded with shipping of all kinds.

On the 24th April the ships started to sail for their allotted positions off Gallipoli. Now my long picnic was almost over, the curtain about to rise on the greatest event ever in Australian history.

April 25th breakfast at 2am, bully beef biscuits and plenty of hot tea; it was many days before another cup of hot tea came my way.

Now action started by transferring to destroyers, then to lifeboats with a Pinnance taking five boats in tow and heading for the shore.

It was still dark, the warships were now in action, and the baptism of fire was soon to greet me.

I happened to be in the stern of the lifeboat, as soon as it grounded, I hopped over the side with full marching order, rifle, 250 rounds of 303, also three days iron rations. The water was up to my. neck. A struggle to reach the shore (in fact I never realised I was wet) and with the others made inland to the great unknown.

About 2 pm first day in front of Shell Green, Colonel Johnson of the artillery came up and picked twenty of us saying "We are bringing an 18 pounder into the front line, protect the gun, and stop the bloody Turks from rushing it".

The gun was now man-handled into line and opened fire, Johnson giving the orders, 400 yards open sights, fire etc.

I could see many Turks trying to advance, but with our fire and the shrapnel bursting over them we must have accounted for many casualties.

Very soon the Turks put a shell through the gun shield although it did not burst and went into the sea I will always remember the amazed looks on the No 1 & No 2. No one was hurt, Johnson's only comment “We will soon be blown to hell if we don't move "moved back”. So the gun was moved back.

Looking back, this afternoon was an amazing sight, nine cruisers and battleships plus destroyers and many transports took part in perhaps the greatest and most momentous event ever to happen in the Mediterranean.

All battalions were hopelessly mixed in "The Landing". Three days later all the 8th Battalion men moved to the rear to re-organise to become a unit once again.

About eight days later the 2nd Brigade embarked on destroyers and was taken to Cape Helles, to help the 29th Division and the French army to take Krithia. This was a lively battle, but all in vain and cost us many hundreds of casualties. Krithia was never captured.

After the battle I had two days on the beach at Cape Belles, spent some time with the French artillery; and experienced 'Asiatic Annie' shelling our beach here.

What was left of my brigade embarked on destroyers and returned to Anzac. Approaching Anzac I could hear a tremendous battle in progress; the Turks trying to push us off Gallipoli.

Next day when off duty I saw the price paid by the Turks endeavouring to push us into the sea. Following our front line from the sea to the sea the ground was covered with dead Turks, well over 3000.

The weather was hot, the flies in plague proportions, and the stench terrible. I know both sides were very pleased when an armistice was agreed upon to bury the dead. I saw the Turkish officers coming to negotiate.

The armistice was on the 24th May 1915 from 1am to 4pm.

One afternoon in May I witnessed an amazing sight. I saw the battleship "Triumph" turnover and sink in less than two hours. She had been torpedoed. I could hardly believe my eyes.

Now Anzac developed into trench warfare.

The sea the only place to wash, not one square yard absolutely safe from enemy fire. Here I saw the most friendly light ever. Each night at dark two destroyers would move close to shore. One on the right flank and one on our left protecting us, turning night into day with their searchlights.

Courtney's post was our home.

On the 28th June 1915 the Turks were shelling our front line, about 1pm a shell burst about six feet in front of my steel plate, covering me with dirt etc.

I stepped down into the trench and whilst cleaning my rifle, my pal in the next bay put his head around the corner to see if I was OK. His only comment "What a close call", and so it was.

One minute later something terrific hit me in the ribs and left arm. My first thought "I know I am not going to die", soon the stretcher bearers had me down to the beach, then placed on the hospital ship - SS "Silicia".

This day. I sampled both Hell and Heaven.

Hell was Anzac with its dirt, flies, lice, shortage of water, never undressing except when swimming, and mother earth for a bed, and the Turks to contend with.

Heaven. Now I was washed, had a clean bed, good food, and Australian nurses to care for me. Ten days later I was in a General Hospital in Alexandria. While there pondering on that day at Anzac I feel sure the Turk who fired the shell that got me, was a very good friend to me for it meant over four months holiday under excellent conditions. Here I must pay a wonderful tribute to all the nurses for a mighty job they did caring for the wounded and sick, working on 12 hour shifts.

From hospital I moved into Base Detail Camp, provided with a new uniform and equipment and again on my way to Anzac.

Finally I embarked on the liner "Megantic" with a full load of troops bound for Gallipoli once more.

We arrived at Anzac at midnight. This time my landing was more peaceful. There were many fox holes close by so I decided to rest in one until daylight. I had hardly settled down when I could feel the ground moving with millions and millions of lice, that meant an abrupt end to my rest.

Joining my Battalion still at Courtney's Post. My pal told me of my narrow escape on 28th June. The next shell was a direct hit on my steel plate, and buried it into the back of the trench. Had I been shooting from the loop hole my head would have been knocked off, I got the splinters from the shell. Divine Providence was a good pal of mine that day.

In two days time our Battalion moved to Lemnos for a well earned spell and on the 21st November embarked again on the "Princess Irene" for the return journey to Anzac.

About this time Lord Kitchener arrived on a tour of inspection, and soon the decision was made to evacuate Anzac and Cape Helles.

From 22nd November onward I saw little, front line service; most of the time was spent digging trenches, matting roads and destroying military stores and preparing to leave.

Among the items of stores which were destroyed was four thousand one gallon jars of rum, and on my return to the scene twenty years later, to my amazement, there were still many broken jars remaining there.

After dark on the 19th December 1915 my Battalion marched to the beach, with old blankets or sand bags wrapped around our boots to deaden the sound of marching feet, as the Turks were not far away. By 9pm we had embarked on the SS "Abbassia", arriving at Lemnos at 3am the next day.

It was a very sad yet glad farewell for we left behind 8527 Australians and 2600 New Zealanders to rest forever at Anzac, plus 19,367 Australians and 6000 New Zealanders who were evacuated sick or wounded.

This was the debit account of failure, for final victory was yet to come three years later.

Although the idea behind this campaign was excellent. To open the Dardnelles, capture Constantinople, and bring relief to the Russians, out this was not to be. The Turks defeated the British and French navies, and the British and French armies.

Strange but true, and one of the big quirks of history. Money was a non-essential commodity at Anzac. Over 20,000 men lived together, fought together, died together in over eight months of fighting without the necessity to spend money, for there was nothing to spend it on.

It was a tremendous experience being privileged to take an active part in "The Landing" on the first morning - to have served at Cape Helles with the British and French armies - to have witnessed the Armistice for the burial of the dead at Anzac - to see the "Triumph" go down, and to be at Anzac for the evacuation.

Twenty years later I was the only Australian soldier to return to Anzac for the 20th Anniversary, and as I wandered in the gullies and on the hills I stood in amazement at the stillness of this historic place. Only the sea breaking on the shore, and the tinkle tinkle of the bells on the sheep grazing there could be heard, it was sad and lovely music.

The cemeteries are all very well kept by the Turks, for Anzac is Holy Ground baptised in the blood of many thousands of our brightest and best men who never returned.

Lemnos was our home for the next 11 days. New Year’s Eve was celebrated in Mudro's Harbour. That a night. All the ships whistles and sirens were blowing, guns firing and bands playing. All the troops in this vast assembly of ships enjoyed this very much. A special time to remember.

So 1916 was born this night. A year of no progress, a year of endurance and hardship and our armies tried to their uttermost. This was a year of training in the discipline of adversity.

On 2nd January 1916 almost 5000 troops embarked on the "Empress of Britain" bound for Egypt, we were held up for one day before sailing, but duly arrived in Alexandria on January 6th 1916.

Next day we entrained for Telel Kebir and spent three weeks here. This was on old battleground when in 1882 General Wolseley defeated the Egyptian Army. Still plenty of skeletons laying on the battlefield.

On 1st February' 1916, we left for Serapeum on the Canal. This was a real picnic and here I transferred to the 2nd Machine Gun Company. Three weeks here and we moved to the front line of outposts about 10 miles East of the Canal. Here we were allowed one quart of water per day. This a most interesting experience.

After two weeks we moved bank to the Canal. All was excitement; rumour said we are off to France.

On March 24th 1916, we left Serapeum by train, travelled all night arriving Alexandria 7.30am next morning, and by 11am were all on board the Castle liner "Britain".  This is another story; and so ended my active service in the Middle East.

FOOTNOTE: The Bendigo Advertiser thanks George 'Bert' Radnell's Bendigo-based family for providing his story of memories through our Faces of Anzacs link.