The Canaways Abroad: Dying to be a legend

It already seems an age ago that we visited Gallipoli but with Anzac Day approaching, it’s often on our minds.

We were both surprised at how much we got out of the visit – ‘enjoy’ is too strong a word to us when you’re visiting the site of such incredible loss of life – but having it explained in full, from background to conclusion, in the locations where various events occurred and – even more interestingly – being presented by a Turkish guide, was absolutely fascinating.

Bulent with Aussies Steph and Daniel at the Nek

Our guide, Bulent, has lived in Eceabat (the nearest settlement) all his life and has been working as a guide for about 25 years, so was pretty much fluent in English and had the story in all its remarkable detail fully memorised. Every warship, every date, every landing place, general, change of command, and exchange he had at his fingertips. Guide work keeps him busy seven days a week in season and only drops down to 1-2 a week or fortnight in mid-winter. When I heard it was to be a five-hour tour I was horrified – thought I’d be bored stiff – but he made it really interesting and I never realized there were so many sites; it’s a small area but there are 31 cemeteries and we only visited half a dozen.

Statue of Ataturk at Chunuk Bair

And if you think it’s all Aussies and Kiwis, think again – the weekend before we were there 15,000 Turks apparently visited on ONE DAY ALONE – no special reason; just visiting. Millions go every year, with government-subsidised school visits etc, although this is only a recent phenomenon (since the ’90s) I believe. It is seen as the birthplace of the Turkish Republic, as it is where General Mustafa Kemal Bey, who later became President and is still revered as Kemal Ataturk (father of the Turks), came to the fore as a leader. He is credited with being the essential difference in rallying his troops into standing their ground when they ran out of ammunition on April 25, which led to the Turks holding Gallipoli peninsula against allied attack, a key Turkish victory in WWI. So it’s big.

Having said that, Aussies make up the second-highest number of visitors, and the guest house we stayed at in Eceabat (Crowded House, near the Boomerang Café…) is already booked out for the April 25 centenary in 2015.

At Lone Pine memorial

Bulent has attended 15 Anzac Day ceremonies, as well as the lesser-known August 6, marking the Battle of Lone Pine, and the biggest event for the Turkish – March 18, when they repelled the might of the British / Allied navies at the mouth of the Dardanelles. The event is so significant (amid all the other defeats that occurred in WWI, and their eventual loss and humiliation at the Treaty of Versailles) that schools, universities, businesses etc are often named March 18 1915, and a huge sign with that date is inscribed on the hill at Canakkale, across the Dardanelles from Eceabat.

Anzac Cove, then and now

The peninsula has obviously changed a bit since 1915 – then all the trees had been chopped for firewood so Lone Pine really was alone; now it’s a national park and full of birdlife among the pine and cypress trees. Erosion at Anzac Cove has led to a retaining sea wall being built – plus a huge main road went in last year, so the landscape still looks rather scarred and bare.

But what amazed us was the small scale of the various sites.

The allied line held on the first ridge above Anzac Cove is barely 1km inland, and the highest point – Chunuk Bair – that was briefly held by the Kiwis for two days in August before Turkish/German reinforcements reclaimed the ground – is only 3km inland. A road has been built following the frontline between the Turks and Allies for the summer-long stalemate – and it is literally just a single road width between the opposing forces’ trenches; about 10m.

Lone Pine

The Lone Pine battlefield, where the opposing sides together lost more than 7,000 in four days of intense fighting, is the size of a football pitch, while the nearby Nek site – another key ridge where many young men died (as per the Peter Weir movie) in the battle for its control – is barely the size of two tennis courts.

The trenches are still visible, although not as deep as they originally were.

Visiting on a sunny spring day was slightly surreal and we came away shaking our heads. But it’s a credit to the Turkish people and their government that the site is treated with such respect and that there is truly no ill-will held against those visitors whose countries once tried to invade, killing so many young men in the process. In fact reading the monument bearing Kemal Ataturk’s famous address to visiting British, Australian and NZ representatives in 1934, when the first ceremony was held commemorating the fighting, is the one time I came close to tears. It reads:

Those heroes that shed their blood

And lost their lives ...

You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country.

Therefore rest in peace.

There is no difference between the Johnnies

And the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side

Here in this country of ours ...

You, the mothers,

Who sent their sons from far away countries

Wipe away your tears,

Your sons are now lying in our bosom and in peace.

After having lost their lives on this land