Light and Shade in War"Impressions of Gallipoli and France by Malcom Ross (as a war correspondent) and his son"--Bagnall. |
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Ægean Anzac Army asked attack Australian battalion battery battle bayonet beach blue boat Boiselle bombardment brave British bullets burst camp Château Pericles cheering Chunuk Bair Colonial comes Dardanelles darkness dead decks desert dug-out Egypt enemy England English Evelyn face fight firing line France Fricourt front Gallipoli German Greek grey Grist House Gulf of Saros gunners hand harbour high explosive hills Imbros Ka mate khaki killed La Boiselle land listen look machine guns Maori marched Marseilles miles mists Mytilene never night Northern France officer parapet passed past patrols Pericles position raid rifle road round sand says scene seemed shell ship shot shrapnel slowly smiling smoke soldiers sound steel stone strange submarines suddenly swinging things thought thousand told Tommy trees trench troops Turkish Turks villages walked watch wire wonderful wounded yards young Zealand
Popular passages
Page 60 - ... demands upon their fortune which they could meet fourfold without inconvenience. From these, I can well believe, be they prudent economists, or careless pleasure-seekers, the cry for peace will rise alike vociferously, whether in street or senate. But I ask their witness, to whom the war has changed the aspect of the earth, and imagery of heaven, whose hopes it has cut off like a spider's web, whose treasure it has placed, in a moment, under the seals of clay. Those who can never more see sunrise,...
Page 130 - Wi' his merry men sae brave ; Their hearts are o' the steel, an' a better keel Ne'er bowl'd owre the back o' a wave. It's no when the loch lies dead in its trough, When naething disturbs it ava, But the rack an' the ride o' the restless tide, An' the splash o' the grey sea-maw. It's no when the yawl an...
Page 60 - Balaclava. Ask their witness, and see if they will not reply that it is well with them, and with theirs, that they would have it no otherwise ; would not, if they might, receive back their gifts of love and life, nor take again the purple of their blood out of the cross on the breast-plate of England.
Page 170 - Alas! our dead Lie buried far away. Yet where the brave man lies who fell in fight For his dear country, there his country is. And we will mourn them proudly as of right For meaner deaths be weeping and loud cries: They died pro patria! Oh, sweet and seemly so to die, indeed, In the high flush of youth and strength and pride. These are our martyrs, and their blood the seed Of nobler futures. 'Twas for us they died. Keep we their memory green. This be their epitaph.
Page 108 - Onward therefore, pilgrim brothers! Onward, with the Cross our aid ! Bear its shame, and fight its battle, Till we rest beneath its shade ! Soon shall come the great awaking ; Soon the rending of the tomb ; Then, the scattering of all shadows, And the end of toil and gloom ! 522 6.5.
Page 130 - Lochryan he's gane, Wi' his merry men sae brave ; Their hearts are o' the steel, an' a better keel Ne'er bowl'd owre the back o' a wave. It's no when the loch lies dead in its trough, When naething disturbs it ava, But the rack an' the ride o' the restless tide, An' the splash o
Page 139 - ... kit, and persuaded his companions to do likewise. Not an hour afterward the dugout slid forward and fell in. The Maori in France By a British Correspondent IN the green lanes of France you may meet at any time with men of all colors. There are black men marching there, brown men and bronze, besides all the English and French soldiery. A while ago a long column swung along the road to the tune of a melody sung in time to the marching feet. The tune you would know, but the words would be new to...
Page 181 - Y Beach', the Scottish Borderer cried While panting up the steep hillside, 'Y Beach! To call this thing a beach is stiff, It's nothing but ab cliff. Why beach?
Page 73 - THE sacred keep of Ilion is rent By shaft and pit ; foiled waters wander slow Through plains where Simois and Scamander went To war with Gods and heroes long ago. Not yet to tired Cassandra, lying low In rich Mycenae, do the Fates relent : The bones of Agamemnon are a show, And ruined is his royal monument. The dust and awful treasures of the Dead, Hath Learning scattered wide, but vainly thee, Homer, she meteth with her tool of lead, And strives to rend thy...