We stayed at an Airbnb near the Galata Tower which was in a very convenient part of the city.
While there we visited the Hargia Sophia , the Spice Bazaar, the Grand bazaar, and the Basilica Cistern. All these attractions, lived up to their promised intrigue. The ancient architecture and long history of these buildings was fascinating. However, the tour that we took to the Gallipoli Peninsula was what affected me the most.
As it is a long drive from Istanbul to the Peninsula we were asked by our guide to meet at a hotel a short walk away from our accommodation at 6.00am. The streets around the Gelata Tower are narrow and some buses cannot enter this area. As we walked towards our meeting place the evidence of the previous night’s partying was everywhere. The Gelata area has a lot of restaurants and bars. The tower itself is a draw card as it is lit up at night.
This medieval building draws the crowds like a beacon. As we picked our way along the cobbled streets, I spied a red rose still wrapped in its presentation paper, lying undamaged on the foot path. I hesitated, wondering if I should pick it up and take it with me. Then I thought why should I do that? Our journey was to take all day, and we would not be returning until 10.00pm that night. The rose would not last the distance. I left it undisturbed for someone else to find and enjoy.
We met our driver without any problems and were soon on our way. Our transport was a mini coach as the number of people in our group was small. They consisted of Australians and New Zealanders.
The first battle site we were shown was Anzac Cove. I found it hard to imagine that this narrow strip of beach approximately 800 meters long was where so much violence and suffering had occurred. Looking up from the beach at the steep cliffs, bought home to me what a huge bungle the ANZACS made by landing here in the first instance. The precipice of Shot Gun Ally can be clearly seen from this perspective.
The climb from the beach is treacherous. The second mistake made by the British command as described by our guide was to halt the Allied troops progress while they had the upper hand. This allowed the Turks to re-group and bring in reinforcements.
Our Turkish guide had tailored the trip to visit areas important to the Allies. Before heading up the hill he took us to a grave site which included many fallen Allied soldiers. I noticed that there were numerous graves of personnel from Australian Light Horse Regiments. This was significant to me as my maternal grandfather fought at Gallipoli as part of the 2nd Light Horse Regiment. The Light Horse were commandeered to fight at Gallipoli because there was a shortage of soldiers. They arrived without their horses.
We made our way up the ridge stopping at Lone Pine. This was an important post that was fought over constantly, including in the offensive of August 6-10th 1915. I wandered through the grave stones and read the names on the memorial. I had a strong feeling that I was looking for someone.
However, I remembered that my grandfather after having been shot in both legs was carried down the cliff probably to lie for sometime on that inhospitable beach. To then be evacuated to a hospital ship, to live another day and procreate my mother. So his name would not be found on any memorial dedicated to the dead.
We continued up the slope. At one area our guide stopped to show us just how close the trenches of the two armies were to each other. Sometimes this was about 20 meters or less. Watching old war movies doesn’t really bring home how inhumane this was. The guide showed us some human bone fragments that had recently been uncovered due to rain. He also picked up some shrapnel to show us which can be commonly found on the battle field.
As we progressed higher up the slope my sense of needing to find someone was increasing. Our last stop was to be Chanuk Bair, the highest point on the Peninsular to be fought over in the August offensive. This point was successfully reached on the 8th August and held by soldiers from New Zealand. Only 70 of the 760 men from the Wellington battalion who fought for and defended this area survived. They were relived on the 9th August by British troops. Who then lost control of the peak on the 10th August.
According to our guide many of the men from New Zealand were killed by friendly fire. The artillery being fired at this site from the Allies’ ships fell short, killing their own. A fact that was not made public at the time. This information was withheld as it would have been too distressing for the families at home to be confronted with.
As I headed up the slope to the main ANZAC memorial I was drawn to the right hand side which leads to the memorial for the New Zealand fallen soldiers. My eyes ran along the rows of names finding no one that was familiar. Something made me look again and then there it was under the Canterbury regiments, Francis Carmine. Private F.J. Carmine, I stood overwhelmed by awe to find this previously unknown relative had given up his life for his country. I also felt a sense that he had led me to this place wanting to be found and recognized.
Later when I had time to research Frank, I discovered that he was my grandfather’s cousin. He was 25 years old when he died. He was unmarried. He had travelled all the way from Granity from New Zealand’s West Coast on the South Island to fight for his country.
Frank had been orphaned at a young age. His father was killed by a landslide at the Goldsborough mine near Hokitika. His mother died a few years Later of an untreatable condition. Frank was homeless but thankfully his uncles’ in Granity took him in. He worked at the families’ store until he went to war. He had no immediate family to honor him.
I wondered about the hard life Frank had experienced even before the war. I thought about what had motivated him to join up. It was then I remembered the rose I had left back in Istanbul. I really regretted that I had no tribute to place on his memorial. The New Zealand soldiers who died at Chanuk Bair were not given individual graves. The Turks buried them in a mass grave at the end of the war. Later the bodies were resumed and reburied in a grassed area in front of the memorial.
I felt vindicated that my instinct to search had been rewarded. I also felt deeply saddened for the terrible largely pointless sacrifice these men had made.
On our return journey I made a point of asking our guide ‘did the Turks’ know that the Allies were leaving at the end of the battle?’ This was in reference to the long-held myth that the Allies had been so clever in getting their soldiers away without further carnage. His answer surprised me.
“Yes the Turks knew the allies were leaving, they chose not to shoot them as they left. This was because they did not want to experience any more casualties themselves. It was felt that firing on these soldiers as they left would be dishonorable.”
So the Allied propaganda machine had done its job and spurned a number of very exciting but misinformed movies about Gallipoli.
The large memorial at the top of Chanuk Bair has the following inscription: In Honor of the Soldiers of the New Zealand Expeditionary Force 8th August 1915 “ From the Uttermost ends of the Earth” Mustafa Kemal Ataturk.
So much of what occurred at Gallipoli was based on the failure of the those in command to adequately assess the perilous conditions and tenacity of the enemy.
There was no glory to be had, only lessons to be learned.
If you read this article and are planning to head to Gallipoli which I encourage you to do. Please take a red rose to Chunuk Bair and lay it under Frank's name.
https://www.aucklandmuseum.com/war-memorial/online-cenotaph/record/C2318
