Virtual
War Memorial
Australia

Ballarat, Monday.
Lieutenant Colonel Bolton, who commanded the 8th battalion at the Dardanelles, is on his way back to Victoria, broken down in health. Mrs. Bolton has just received a long letter from her husband, in which he makes graphic reference to his terrible experience during the landing of the Australians on Gallipoli:

"I will say nothing about the gruesome story," he proceeds, "except to tell you that all ranks in our brigade were heroes - every man of them. When I saw the wreck of my own battalion I grieved exceedingly for the noble, brave hearts who had died, while I was filled with admiration for the amazing fortitude of these poor souls in mortal agony, with never a whimper nor a whine about their awful suffering. How one gets to love these men! You can hardly understand it. At times the casual observer regards them perhaps as rough and ready sort of chaps, generally using strong language when excited. But when you see them looking death straight in the eye and never flinch - when you see a boy dying in mortal agony, and you go to him and put your hand on his head, and say, 'Well, poor laddie,' and he looks up at you and smiles - and when you see them tenderly lift a wounded Turk, unbutton his clothes, give him water to drink, with all the care and tenderness of a woman - then you understand why it is you love them. The poet says. 'An honest man is the noblest work of God.' Our boys are giants in the things that make a manly man!

To those who do not understand Australians I would say, Let them come and study them on the battle field, and they will discover, not individual cases alone, but the universal showing of such manly virtures that would make the angels rejoice that the world possesses such men.

I pray God Australia will not forget it when these men return broken and maimed for life. Many will never return; let the people show a loving care for those who mourn their loss. How many kindly hearts have been stilled for ever! I was talking to poor Possingham when he was shot through the heart. I saw him sway, and caught hold of his hands and gently lowered him to the ground. I knew he was dead, for he did not move or breathe afterward. So died one of the finest men I ever knew - one of 'Nature's gentlemen,' one of the most capable oficers in the Commonwealth forces, and as conscientious as he was capable. He was loved by the whole brigade."

Sourced from the "Portland Observer and Normanby Observer" Monday 2nd August 1915. (trove.nla.gov.au)