Letter from a Warwick ANZAC - 1915

Peruse the list of the WWI war dead on the Warwick cenotaph and you will encounter the somewhat uncommon surname of 'Spreadborough'.  A letter discovered on 'Trove' gives an insight into the horror of war from an O. L. Spreadborough, a resident of Killarney, and I assume a relative of the man memorialised on the Warwick cenotaph. This article appeared in Mackay Daily Mercury 12 August 1915, having been copied from the Warwick Examiner.

Here is a link to Trove article

A TURKISH ATTACK.

BATTLE VIVIDLY DESCRIBED BY A YOUNG QUEENSLANDER.

Private O. L. Spreadborough, youngest son of Mr. Richard Spreadborough, of Killarney, has sent an account of one of the Gallipoli battles to Mr. E. H. Day, from which the following is an extract : — 

"On the 18th May the Turks received large reinforcements, and it was evident that they intended to try to drive us into the sea. We made preparations to receive the attack. It started with a bombardment of our trenches at 5 p.m. on the 19th. This lasted till nightfall, when they opened up with their rifles and bombs. The whole front and flanks then became a perfect hell. Grenades were thrown into our trenches, and this lasted until about 2.30 a.m. or 3 a.m., when black forms could be seen, then they became thicker and thicker. Crawling and creeping along, they presented a most wierd sight in the dark. Nearer and nearer they came by this time in thousands, right along the whole of our lines. It looked as if they were going to carry out their threat to drive us into the sea.

"Not a sound came from our lines, but rifles were sighted, and cocked, and fingers ready on the trigger, but never a shot was fired, nor word spoken. At this the Turks became more daring, and came forward in an upright position, thinking perhaps we were asleep or else had frightened us by their threat. On they came, closer and closer, until within 50 yards of our lines. "No surrender" was our watchword, and no man was to leave the trenches. Still closer they came when "crack," and oh; what din?  Screaming and curses, mingled with the groans of the wounded, it was awful. Machine guns were firing their hardest, thousands of rifles were cracking in rapid fire, hand grenades, were exploded by the dozen, hundreds of fellows in their wild humour were calling out "Come on and get some Turkish delight!" Still the Turks, advanced in their mad rush, hundreds of them falling dead dying or wounded. The great dark masses became thinner. It seemed as if they had hopes of us coming out to meet them, but not a man moved. Our little line was firm as a rock, and our trenches looked like a long thin streak of flame.

"After a lull the firing became more rapid, and certainly more deadly, as they drew near, and it seemed that every shot fired brought a man to the ground. What a horrible sight to witness and one can fully realise now how a soldier in the firing line under such circumstances as these temporarily loses himself to everything but to the slaughter of the advancing enemy. It seemed as if all the devils of hell had been let out. The turmoil was awful. On they came and back they were driven only to be cursed at and driven to the charge again at the point of their German officers' swords. Time after time they came at us, and were as often driven back. Their great thick black line, had become considerably thinner by now. In fact, their dead and wounded lay in heaps all over the field. Those who were left came rushing forward right on our parapet, but I don't thing [sic] over a dozen got into our trenches; and these were thrown back dead. This went on till nearly dawn, but our line was never broken, not a man flinched, and as the enemy retired towards their own trenches, they got a warm send-off, and many a man passed in his checks. When it was clear enough to see, the scene before our eyes was horrible to look upon. Thousands   of dead Turks were lying all over the landscape, heaped up, one on top of the other. Take it from me, I was not sorry when it was all over." 

— Warwick "Examiner."