Item 01: Eric Susman war diary, 1 January 1915-4 April 1916 - Page 140
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[Page 140]
Monday 26 April 1915
At daylight we left our temporary entrenchments and proceeded to climb the hills to the firing line. And this proved no easy task and we were soon compelled to take off our packs. This made the ascent less difficult and we were soon in a position to dig ourselves in as a protection from the shrapnels. Later in the day, lost my company and platoon and became mixed up with an assorted body of men, of every Australian infantry Regiment together with stray New Zealanders in the supporting trenches. These are a few hundred yards behind the actual firing line but quite near enough to make you duck your head when you hear the screaming, piercing whistle of the enemy's shells.
Now I know what War is – terrible, loathsome, bitter – indescribable. Besides the dead, scattered here and there, the fearful agony which they suffered being shown by their twisted frames and contorted expression and the wounded, moaning piteously for water, for the stretcher bearers, for the medical officers. And some crawl, some stagger in the direction of the hospital. Blood everywhere, and this was the most unkindest cut of all, we are compelled to disregard their entreaties for assistance. And by God, it takes some doing. Without misusing the language, War is Bloody Hell only worse!