Gisela Kaplan

In the old days, it was easy. The eagle was a large bird with sharp talons for gripping and a hooked beak for tearing prey; the swallow was a fast-flying bird that left our shores each winter to seek warmer climes. But since Charles Darwin, we can’t say that anymore, because the very language of such descriptions implies purpose – either will (the swallow somehow knowing, planning, its migration) or design.

On 25 April 1984, 300 people attended the dawn service at Gallipoli. In 2000 there were 15,000, many of them young Australians. In recognition of his renewed interest, Patrick Carlyon (who was at the 2000 service) has written The Gallipoli Story. Looking beyond the well-known Anzac heroes and stories, Carlyon takes us into the trenches and introduces us to individuals: young men with names and hometowns, with sisters and girlfriends; young men who are afraid and confused. The shocking waste of life, as soldiers from both sides charge to their deaths, can make for uncomfortable reading, but Carlyon has refrained from gratuitous violence. It is one thing to have hundreds of dry facts and statistics at hand, quite another to weave these facts into an engaging story. Carlyon has managed it superbly.