their lot while they were in
Gallipoli, where the military were attracted to them a bit by the idea
of calling their battalions after famous admirals such as Nelson, Drake,
Hood, Collingwood, Anson, Howe, Benbow, and Hawke. Sir Ian Hamilton made
mention of the fearlessness of the division in his despatches, and
Major-General D'Amade eulogised them for their bravery after the frays
of the 6th, 7th, and 8th of May, 1915. In June, 1915, the Collingwood
battalion was wiped out; of the officers of this battalion and of the
Hood, who went to the attack, not one returned unwounded. The other
battalions also suffered terribly, having been equally contemptful of
danger.

Prior to that they had, of course, been to Antwerp. Even if they did not
have a chance to do much, the Division, at any rate, caused the Belgians
to hold out for five days longer than they might otherwise have done.

Among the many brave men on the officers' roll are well-known Britishers
who have given their lives for their country. There was Rupert Brooke,
the poet; Denis Browne, formerly musical critic of _The Times_; F. S.
Kelly, holder of the Diamond Sculls record, who also was an
exceptionally clever composer and pianist; and Arthur Waldene St. Clair
Tisdall, a great scholar and poet of Cambridge. He was awarded the
Victoria Cross for his valour on the 25th of April, at Gallipoli, for
going to the rescue of wounded men on the beach. To accomplish this, he
pushed a boat in front of him. On his second trip he was obliged to ask
for help. In all, he made five trips in the face of great danger. He met
death in action barely three weeks afterwards.

Lieutenant-Commander Arthur M. Asquith, son of the former British
Premier, is one of the gallant men attached to the Hood battalion. He
has been through the thick of many fights, and has been wounded more
than once, escaping death through sheer good fortune.

And one of the men whom all England was wild about is a New
Zealander from Wellington, twenty-seven years old, now an acting
lieutenant-colonel, who was described by an eye-witness of the Ancre
fighting as "a flying figure in bandages plunging over Germans to
Beaucourt." He is B. C. Freyberg, a born soldier and great athlete.

Before the Great War, this marvel of courage was fighting for Pancho
Villa in Mexico; and the instant the European conflict started, Freyberg
realised that he might do better in Europe. He therefore deserted Villa,
and set out afoot