A Solly’s Legacy excerpt-Scurry’s drip rifle

Howard got straight down to business. ‘Gentlemen, our plans are progressing. We are aiming to pull out on the night of 20th, when there’s no moon,’ he began. ‘That gives us six days and that means we need to pick things up.’ He turned to Daniel. ‘Double the number of horses need to be loaded and there’s more equipment to go up. You need to get most of the loads up top before you run out of horses. Right?’

‘Yes Sir. That’s all achievable as long as the Turks are quiet. They’ve been real quiet the last few days.’

‘That’s because we’ve been training them. We’ve been rationing the firing so they get used to less action. We’re hoping they think we’re saving our ammunition for an attack. It will become a problem as we clear out and don’t have enough men on the line to keep up firing,’ Howard explained.

‘Yes Sir,’ Daniel said, wondering what was coming next.

‘Fortunately, Scurry here and his offsider Lawrence have a possible answer. I’ll let him explain.’ He turned to Scurry. ‘The things you asked for are in the corner, Lance–Corporal. Over there.’

Scurry immediately began to arrange his contraption. ‘This is the automatic firing rifle. The idea is that we set them up in the trenches on the last day and as men leave, they set them to fire some time later, after they’re well away. The Turks are supposed to believe that the trenches are still manned.’

Daniel wanted to ask questions but held back as Scurry went on. ‘I’ll show you how it works.’

Scurry set up his contraption. He set one of his ration tins up on the table and placed the rifle across the chair, then retrieved a sandbag from the corner of the tent and arranged it so as to secure the rifle. Deftly, he then punched a couple of holes near the rim of the second kerosene tin and used string to suspend the empty tin from the trigger of the rifle. Daniel was intrigued, but failed to see how it was to work. Scurry poured a liberal but measured amount of water into the top tin then looked up at Daniel.

‘See? Simple,’ he said with a hint of pride. Daniel didn’t want to say he didn’t understand, so he remained mute until Scurry continued. ‘You set it up like this.’ He swept his arm across his body, introducing his invention. ‘Then when you are ready to leave, you punch a hole in the bottom of the tin like this.’ He pulled out his pocket-knife again and unfolded its gimlet, then quickly punched a hole in the upper tin, allowing the water to flow out and slowly fill the lower tin. Then he cocked the rifle.

‘So now we shoot through and in say half an hour, when there’s enough weight of water in the lower tin, off she pops and Abdul thinks there must be someone in our trenches.’

‘Does it work?’ Daniel asked spontaneously.

‘My word it does. You have to be careful to set it up properly. The amount of water you use and the size of the hole you punch set up the time before it pops off.’

‘Bloody ingenious!’ Daniel exclaimed. ‘Where do I come in?’

Colonel Howard, who had been following proceedings closely, immediately answered.

‘Landerville, we’re going to need as many of these drip rifles as possible set up right along the front line. And we need to ensure that they’re properly set up. I want you to work with Scurry and use as many of your men as you can spare to help him bring this off. We’ve got a lot riding on it. Understood?’

‘Yes Sir. I understand.’

 ‘Then off you go and god-speed,’ Howard said and saluted smartly.

As Scurry and Daniel reached the tent-flap, Howard called Daniel back.

‘I suppose you’re wondering why I chose you for this job.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘General Chauvel recommended you. Gave you top marks. Said you did wonderfully well when you worked with him before the war. Said it was a miracle. Son, I reckon it will be a bigger miracle if we pull this withdrawal off without losing a lot of good men. Give it your best,’ Howard said.

‘Yes Sir. I’ll be doing that,’ Daniel replied and saluted again. Outside, Scurry was waiting for him.

‘Okay. You’re in the picture now. Most of your load tonight will be a lot of ration tins and string. They need to be brought straight up to my place so we can set them up. You know where the 7th HQ is?’

‘Yes.’

‘My little dugout’s right behind it about fifty feet. I’ll keep an eye out for you. We’ll have a yarn then.’

The transport was late and it was some time before Daniel found Hurry Scurry and they unloaded the equipment. Scurry had quite a good little setup with three drip rifles set up and in operation.

‘Bunty’s over there testing the timing with various size holes so we can set them to pop at the right intervals. Over recent days we’ve had the fellows in the front line firing in the sort of pattern we’re trying to set up. I want to hold a set-up class first thing tomorrow at 700 hours. I need about twenty men who are reasonably good at mechanical work. After that, they can take the equipment up to the positions marked on our map and show others how to set the rifle up. It’s not that hard but if it isn’t done right, the thing doesn’t pop. This first group needs to become the leaders and be good enough to check that others are getting it right.’

‘I’ve got all sorts, Hurry. I’ve got carpenters, mechanics and plumbers. I can get you twenty easily. If you find any aren’t up to scratch, send ‘em back and I’ll replace them quick-smart.’

‘Good. That’s all for tonight unless you want Bunty to give you a lesson now.’

‘That would be good. Can I bring my off-sider along? He’s been busting to know what’s going on. He’s a reliable man,’ Daniel added.

‘By all means do that,’ Scurry said.

Jonesy was ecstatic when Daniel told him to get the other men to take care of the horses and that he was going to find out what was happening. Under Bunty Lawrence’s guidance, both men had no problems setting up the automatic firing rifle.

‘You blokes will have plenty of tins and string, so you can practice tomorrow if you want. I’d better get back to what I was doing. I’m trying to develop a chart that shows what size hole you need and how much water to give you any particular timing. I’m hoping I’ll have it for the class tomorrow. I’d better get back to it,’ Bunty Lawrence explained.

‘Okay mate. We’re keen to help all we can,’ Daniel said. The men shook hands warmly and said their goodnights.

***

The following days were frantic. Daniel’s men delivered the required equipment to the front, taught chosen front line soldiers how to set up drip rifles, brought excess ammunition down to Shrapnel Valley arms dump with an ever-dwindling supply of horse carriers. Each night, more and more men and horses embarked and were saved to fight another day. It fell to those left to impersonate the departed army, so there was little sleep to be had. Their greatest fear was that the enemy would realise something was amiss and attack, so they maintained the firing patterns that had been used over past weeks, but only by a prodigious effort. Each afternoon Daniel would report to Colonel Howard regarding progress and to receive fresh orders.

Howard had told Daniel that the last load of horses would go on the 18th. He managed to get Bill the Bastard and Simpson’s donkey aboard. As he loaded, an endless line of soldiers had shuffled down to the beach, their boots wrapped in hessian, were met by a fleet of lighters and were gone.

By the 19th of December, it was clear that it must all happen within 24 hours. All excess ammunition was piled in a great untidy heap at the lower end of Shrapnel Gully. As Daniel brought the last loads down, the engineers were preparing delay fuses. There weren’t enough men to even put up the pretence of a defence should the Turks attack. It was a nervous night without sleep as those left tried to maintain the established firing pattern and the men selected for embarkation gradually departed for the beach. And morning brought no relief at all. It was alarming to be on Gallipoli with hordes of Turks and very few mates. In an effort to give the appearance of being an army, Daniel and Jonesy spent the day driving the remaining worn horses up and down the trail, inviting pot-shots from the Turkish snipers. That’s when a Turkish sniper got Jonesy. Daniel was gutted at the loss and he realised how much he’d depended on his off-sider, but there was nothing to do but to go on, knowing that it could just as easily have been him buried behind the beach at Anzac.

As dusk began to settle over the peninsula, the men left in the trenches began to set up the Scurry rifles. Bunty Lawrence had punched the holes in the tins and had marked the required water level with a red line. On the outside of the can he’d marked the firing time. The timing varied from fifteen minutes to three hours. At precisely twenty two hundred hours on December 20th, the last soldiers began to file down Shrapnel Gully and across the sand. There was no moon at all, and with no light permitted, they could see little but the man directly ahead. The last men to leave were the engineers charged with the task of leaving a surprise for the Turkish enemy.

As the lighter approached the ship, Daniel could hear the automatic rifles and the spasmodic Turkish shots in response. With the peninsula on the eastern horizon, they knew the great ruse had paid off and they awaited the final surprise. Suddenly the eastern sky lit up. It was the biggest explosion any of them had ever seen and the shock wave rolled far across the calm Aegean and assaulted their eardrums. Great sheets of flame leapt skyward and the series of explosions went on and on. Then Turkish artillery on Gaba Tepe, thinking they were under attack, began firing blindly. The ship’s starboard rail was crowded with men glad to be saying goodbye to their stalemated war and enjoyed watching their enemies at war with nobody at all.