Shadows Of Anzac

On 25 April 1915, with the landing of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC) below the slopes of Sari Bair on the Gallipoli peninsula, the ANZAC legend was born. Nine months later, having suffered thousands of casualties from disease, hand-to-hand fighting, bombing, sniping and forlorn charges across no man’s land, the politicians and senior military commanders in London called it quits. While the Turks also suffered terribly, they at least emerged victorious. The fighting at Anzac was not restricted to the ANZACs and Turks alone. British troops also fought at Anzac from the earliest days of the invasion and large numbers of British and Indian troops were committed to the Anzac sector during the failed August offensive designed to break the stalemate. The invasion was also supported by large numbers of men — often non-combatants — who performed vital roles. Naval beach officers kept logistics operating in some form of ‘orderly’ fashion; Indian mule handlers moved supplies of food, water and ammunition to the front lines; and medical staff and army chaplains worked on the beach, caring for the wounded and the dead. All these men were frequently under fire from the Turkish battery known as ‘Beachy Bill’. Others surveyed the narrow beachhead and bored deep holes for drinking water; signallers tried desperately to establish and maintain communications; and the gunners hunted the battlefield for suitable places to site their guns. Off the peninsula, but just as vital, were the nursing and medical staff on the hospital ships, at Lemnos, Alexandria, Cairo and Malta, and the airmen who flew above the battlefield spotting for the navy and artillery. Shadows of Anzac: An intimate history of Gallipoli tells the story of the ‘ordinary’ men and women who participated in the Gallipoli campaign from April to December 1915 and gave the Anzac legend meaning. Drawing on letters, diaries and other primary and secondary sources, David Cameron provides an intimate and personal perspective of Anzac, a richly varied portrayal that describes the absurdity, monotony and often humour that sat alongside the horrors of the bitter fight to claim the peninsula.

‘A century ago we got it wrong. We sent thousands of young Australians on a military operation that was barely more than a disaster. It’s right that a hundred years later we should feel strongly about that. But have we got our remembrance right? What lessons haven’t we learned about war, and what might be the cost of our Anzac obsession?’ Defence analyst and former army officer James Brown believes that Australia is expending too much time, money and emotion on the Anzac legend, and that today’s soldiers are suffering for it. Vividly evoking the war in Afghanistan, Brown reveals the experience of the modern soldier. He looks closely at the companies and clubs that trade on the Anzac story. He shows that Australians spend a lot more time looking after dead warriors than those who are alive. We focus on a cult of remembrance, instead of understanding a new world of soldiering and strategy. And we make it impossible to criticise the Australian Defence Force, even when it makes the same mistakes over and over. None of this is good for our soldiers or our ability to deal with a changing world. With respect and passion, Brown shines a new light on Anzac’s long shadow and calls for change. "Bold, original, challenging - James Brown tackles the burgenoning Anzac industry and asks Australians to re-examine how we think about the military and modern-day service." - Leigh Sales "The best book yet written, not just on Australia's Afghan war, but on war itself and the creator/destroyer myth of Anzac." - John Birmingham James Brown is a former Australian Army officer, who commanded a cavalry troop in Southern Iraq, served on the Australian taskforce headquarters in Baghdad, and was attached to Special Forces in Afghanistan. Today he is the Military Fellow at the Lowy Institute for International Policy where he works on strategic military issues and defence policy. He also chairs the NSW Government’s Contemporary Veterans Forum. He lives in Sydney.

One of the most famous assaults of the Gallipoli campaign took place over four bloody days in August 1915 across an area no bigger than a football field. On a small plateau in Gallipoli known as Lone Pine — named for the lonesome pine that stood there — this fierce battle was fought. In the late afternoon of 6 August 1915, the Australians orchestrated an attack aimed at breaking the Turkish stronghold on Lone Pine. The fighting on both sides during these attacks and counter-attacks involved throwing bombs over hastily erected barriers, mad dashes through the trenches, firing off a few shots at close range, hand-to-hand combat, tripping over the dead and avoiding the dying and wounded. Four days of intense fighting and close combat resulted in the loss of thousands of lives on both sides. In this short period of time, seven of Australia’s nine Gallipoli VCs were earned — a powerful tribute to the courage and sacrifice of the soldiers involved. Simon Cameron’s painstakingly researched account, Lonesome Pine, allows us to now gain a greater understanding of the sacrifice of so many in such a short period of time. This book describes the days leading up to the attack and the horror of the battle in gripping detail, as well as giving an insight into the lives of the men who fought, died in and survived the Battle of Lone Pine.

On 25 April 1915, Allied forces landed on the Gallipoli Peninsula in present-day Turkey to secure the sea route between Britain and France in the west and Russia in the east. After eight months of terrible fighting, they would fail... To this day, Turkey regards the victory as a defining moment in its history, a heroic last stand in the defence of the Ottoman Empire. But, counter-intuitively, it would come to signify something perhaps even greater for the defeated allies, in particular the Australians and New Zealanders: the birth of their countries’ sense of nationhood. Now, in the year that marks its centenary, the Gallipoli campaign (commemorated each year on 25 April, Anzac Day), resonates with significance as the origin and symbol of Australian and New Zealand identity. As such, the facts of the campaign (which was minor when compared to the overall scale of the First World War: Australian deaths were less than a sixth of their losses on the Western Front) are often forgotten or obscured. Now the celebrated journalist and author Peter FitzSimons, with his trademark vibrancy and expert melding of writing and research, recreates the disastrous campaign as experienced by those who endured it or perished in the attempt.

With the Australian troops crossing of the Kumusi River in mid-November 1942, after pushing the Japanese back along the Kokoda Track to the north coast of Papua New Guinea, the time had come to face the entrenched Japanese at their beachheads at Gona, Sanananda and Buna. The Japanese were determined to fight to the last man in the defence of these critical positions. The first beach to be captured by the Australians was Gona, which fell on 9 December after bitter fighting. This, however, was not the end of the fighting around this beachhead as just west of Gona, on the opposite side of Gona Creek a larger Japanese Force had been landed which was intent on not only reinforcing Gona, but also Sanananda and Buna, both located east of Gona. The fighting west of Gona Creek would be just a brutal and deadly as the fighting to take the Gona Beachhead. Even so, after this fighting Australian and American troops, operating together for the first time in the Pacific War, were still bogged down in the battles to take Sanananda and Buna, the fighting at these beachheads would continue into January 1943.

Japanese Major General Horii Tomitarô, commanding the South Seas Force, had the Australians on the back foot. Australia was holding the last defendable ridge in the Owen Stanley ranges, Imita Ridge. Horii to his distress was then given orders from Imperial Headquarters in Tokyo that he was to fall back across the mountains to the Japanese beachheads at Gona, Sanananda, and Buna, leaving a force between Templeton’s Crossing and Eora Creek to stop any Australian advance through the mountains. The Japanese, unknown to the Australians evacuated Ioribaiwa Ridge just before they launched their attacks and to their amazement on storming the heights, the Australians encountered no resistance – the Japanese had gone. This, however, did not mean the fighting on the Kokoda Track was over, far from it. Three more desperate actions would be fought by the Australians and Japanese, before the decisive battles for the Japanese beachheads could be decided – the battles for Templeton’s Crossing, Eora Creek, and finally the Oivi-Gorari positions on the northern lowland plains. Just 15-kilometres east lay the Kumusi River, the last geographical barrier before reaching the strongly fortified Japanese beachheads themselves.

With the Australian troops crossing of the Kumusi River in mid-November, after pushing the Japanese back along the Kokoda Track, the time had come to face the entrenched Japanese at their beachhead at Gona, Sanananda and Buna. The end of the Kokoda Campaign in mid-November 1942 marked a turning point for the Australians, but the fighting was far from over. Within days, the battles for the three Japanese beachheads would commence. These battles where the first combined large-scale operation between Australian and American troops against the Japanese and would prove to be among the fiercest of the Pacific War. At Buna, the final battles to take 'New' and 'Old' air strips by the Australians, along with the ongoing American attacks to take the infamous 'Triangle,' proved to be a brutal and deadly bloodbath for all concerned. Amidst the crocodile-infested swamps and lowland jungle with dozens of Japanese bunkers and pillboxes with supporting artillery, the Australians who fought at all three beachheads faced an unprecedented toll, suffering more killed or wounded than in any other campaign of the Pacific war. In the face of relentless combat, the Allied forces at Buna suffered staggering casualties, with 2817 men lost at Buna. The American 32nd Division sustained 1954 casualties, including 353 killed (18%), 1508 wounded, and 93 missing amounting to around 40 per cent casualties over a six week period. The Australian 18th Infantry Brigade and supporting elements suffered 863 casualties, with 267 killed (31%), 557 wounded, and 39 missing amounting to around 60 per cent casualties over just three weeks of fighting. As the battle raged on, the Japanese suffered significant losses, with a minimum of 1390 men killed at Buna. The true number of their dead, lost in history, is likely much higher, with conservative estimates suggesting around 3000 fatalities. “Bloody Buna" sheds light on the untold sacrifices and heroism displayed by the Australian and American troops as they clashed with the Japanese in one of the most vicious chapters of the Pacific War.

Within 24 hours of the Japanese invasion of northern New Guinea at Gona in July 1942, the Australian militiamen of ‘B’ Company, 39th Battalion, spent four weeks fighting a delaying action against a crack Japanese force outnumbered by three to one. By mid-August, the rest of the battalion had arrived, and these men took up a position at Isurava, in the heart of the cloud covered mountains and jungles of the Owen Stanley Range. At Isurava, this small militia force of the 39th Battalion now numbering around 300 men was determined to make a stand against a crack Japanese force of the 144th Regiment and supporting elements, numbering at least 1500. Then on the day the Japanese launched their attack, to the great relief of these militiamen, reinforcements from the 2nd AIF who had fought with great distinction in the Middle East began to arrive in the afternoon having spent days struggling up the track from Port Moresby. Even so, the Australians were still outnumbered, as the Japanese also received reinforcements, and unlike the Japanese, the Australians had no supporting artillery or medium machineguns. The battle for Isurava would be the defining battle of the Kokoda Campaign and has rightfully been described as Australia’s Thermopylae. It was here that Australia’s first Victoria Cross in the Pacific war was awarded when the Japanese conducted several ferocious attacks against the Australian perimetre. Private Bruce Kingsbury led an Australian counterattack, rushing forward sweeping the Japanese positions with his Bren gun, saving he situation when all seemed lost — he was killed leading the charge. Another two men were also nominated for the VC during the fighting at Isurava. The outnumbered and poorly equipped Australians managed to hold back the Japanese advance for almost a week; only then did these battle scared and weary men begin a month long fighting withdraw towards Ioribaiwa Ridge just north of Port Morsby. However, their sacrifice provided time for the Australian 25th Brigade to be brought forward — finally forcing the Japanese to withdrawal just as they glimpsed the lights of Port Morseby.