regiments of the Hampshires, Dublin, and Munster Fusiliers added in a
few hours more glory to their colors than past achievements had given
even such proud historic names as theirs.

The landing at Cape Helles and the wooden horse are beacons of the
Gallipoli campaign that shine undimmed alongside the Australian-New
Zealand landing at Anzac which, as a rising sun, proclaimed the dawn of
the day of their nationhood.


Another "ship that passed" and in its passing wrought havoc on the
enemy was one too small to support a man. It was a tiny raft, and it
was propelled by one-man power, who swam ashore from a destroyer,
towing this craft which was to bluff the Turks into believing that a
whole army was descending upon them. The man was Lieutenant Freyberg,
and on the raft he carried the armament that was to keep a large
Turkish force standing to arms at Bulair (the northern-most neck of the
Peninsula) when they might have been preventing the landing on the
other beaches. The weapons this gallant young officer used were merely
some flares which he lit at intervals along the beach, and then went
naked inland to overlook the army he was attacking. Leaving them to
endure for the rest of that night the continual strain of a momentarily
expected attack, he then swam out to sea, for five miles, searching
anxiously for the destroyer that was to pick him up. After several
more hours of floating he was sighted by the rescuing ship and taken on
board, exhausted and half dead. The Turkish papers stated that "the
strong attack at Bulair was repulsed with heavy losses by our brave
defenders."

This hero, who is a New Zealander, and now Brigadier-General Freyberg,