The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli PeninsulaWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
History
The Fight for Constantinople: A Story of the Gallipoli Peninsula
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
Adventure stories; Great Britain. Royal Navy -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Gradually the enemy began to work round to the British right, till the
thin line of bluejackets was in danger of being enfiladed. Then, with
a succession of fierce yells, the Turks sprang to their feet and with
fixed bayonets bore down upon the handful of determined seamen.
A rapid magazine fire swept aside the threatened danger before any of
the foemen came within reach of the British bayonets, but at the cost
of two men wounded and a severe drain upon the remaining ammunition.
Dick looked grave when he heard Farnworth's report. It was quite
evident that the midshipman's task could not be carried out with the
ease that he had expected. But having once set his hand to the plough,
the Sub realized that there was to be no turning back until the work in
hand accomplished. He must hold the position at all costs until the
rescued seamen were safely in the boats.
Presently a man slithered past him in the darkness, and, flinging
himself prone, began to blaze away at the flashes of light a hundred
yards or so on his front. Dick recognized him as the bowman of the
_Hammerer's_ whaler. Then he knew that Farnworth's mission was
approaching completion.
Again the Turks charged, this time well on the right flank; and before
the British line could be re-formed, a score of helmeted Moslems were
pouring over the low stone wall protected that portion of the seamen's
position. Bayonet crossed bayonet, rifle butts swung in the air. The
fierce shouts of the Turks were met with dogged silence, as the
stalwart bluejackets lunged and fired at their fanatical foes.
Dick's revolver turned the scale. The Turks fled, leaving a dozen of
their number dead on the field, and several others more or less
seriously injured.
During the brief respite that followed Dick looked anxiously in the
direction of the tower. He could just discern the dark forms of the
liberated bluejackets as, under the charge of the coxswain of the
whaler, they made for the boats.
Even as he looked a search-light flashed from the hitherto black
expanse of sea. Irresolutely playing upon the shore for a few moments,
it settled upon the extended line of bluejackets and upon the
bullet-splintered barracks whence came the main Turkish fire.
"Lie down, men!" ordered Dick, for with the blaze of light several of
the men knelt up and looked in the direction of the disagreeable
interruption.
His warning came just in time, for a three-pounder shell from the
hostile craft, and, screeching shrilly over the heads of the small
British force, exploded with a terrific crash in the Turkish barracks.
Evidently there was a quantity of highly-inflammable oil stored within
the building, for with extreme violence lurid flames shot skywards,
their brilliancy outclassing the glare of the search-light.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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