liking of the Irish troops. It gave play to
individual personal courage and qualities of leadership.

What they all desired was to get into close grips with the Turks. How
they hungered for the wild exultation of the bayonet charge, the shock
of man to man in deadly encounter, the pursuit of a vanquished foe!
The evening was well advanced before the end came in sight. Major
Harrison gallantly led the 7th Dublins and men of other units in the
final attack. "Fix bayonets, Dublins, and let's make a name for
ourselves," was his cry. The hill had not only natural advantages for
defence in rocks, scrub, and trees. It was also a network of trenches.
From behind this double cover the Turks threw hand grenades at the
Irish, now approaching with a rush and yelling fiercely. Soon they got
a taste of bayonet and clubbed rifle administered by Irish hands. The
Turks are brave fighters, but they quailed before the Irish onslaught
and sought safety from it in precipitate flight. At half-past 7
o'clock, just as it was growing dark, Chocolate Hill was taken.

There is some dispute, I understand, between the Dublins and
Inniskillings and Irish Fusiliers as to which battalion the men first
in the Turkish trenches belonged. But does it really matter? Are they
not all Irish? Probably men of all the battalions were in the last
overwhelming rush. There is no doubt that the Dublins get most of the
credit for the feat. The battalion was specially complimented by
Headquarters for their heroism and endurance. And well they deserved
it. What a baptism of fire it was for those inexperienced Irish lads!
And what a confirmation of suffering. Over ten hours of continuous
open fighting against machine-guns and artillery, and on a day of
scorching heat! "We have gained a great name for the capture, and for
the splendid regiment which I have the honour to command," says
Colonel Downing. The General of the Division, Sir Bryan Mahon,
speaking of all the battalions, said he had never seen better work by
infantry. The fact that the hill was widely known afterwards among the
troops in Gallipoli as "Dublin Hill" tells its own tale.

But there is another side to war, and tragic though it be, it must not
be ignored, even now that the victory has been won. At the last phase
of the fight the hills and ravines were flooded with crimson and
purple and yellow, as the sun, in regal splendour, went down into the
western sea. Those vivid colours were appropriate to th