25 April 1915

On that fateful morning,
A futile campaign began
Our boys had no warning
Of what was ahead of them

Boats crammed with slouch hats left the ships
And worked their way painfully toward the shore
A distant popping and thudding killed the words on everyone's lips
These were the men of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps

As the boats drew near to land
Bullets showered like rain
Men fell dead in the sand
All around were cries of pain

But over the beach, they ran
And up the cliffs, they went
For they had to make a stand
Though already they were spent

Scrambling onward, ever onward
There was no strategy or tact
They had to climb that mountainside
And not once did they look back

They gained the ridge above them
And fought a bloody fight
Johnny Turk retreated
And they hoped for some respite

Upon regrouping, it was discovered their numbers were few
Though they had won that battle
It had taken more than a soldier or two

They quickly realised they had to dig in deep
Or on this rugged hillside, they would forever sleep
Our tough Australian men dug for their lives
With shovels, picks, rocks and knives, whatever they could find

And when the sun set on that day in April
Our boys had made a stand
They had, in one day, conquered a minuscule portion
Of that Turkish land

They thought they'd be there a few weeks
A month perhaps, at most
But for many of those men
It was their last post

- R.M.