Evan's Gallipoli by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online Page A

villages. I don’t know how far it is to the border. I don’t even know where the border is, really, from here. I will have to trust in God. At least Father is well enough to walk a little.
    July 20th
    We left in the early morning. I have a swag now, and so does Abdul. The old men gave Father a long staff to lean on as he walks. We are sundowners, as they say in Australia. Tramps. The weather is warm but not too hot. The smell of the trees is strange; like incense. Abdul and I converse as we walk. I speak in Turkish, he replies in Greek. The grammar is similar. It usually ends with me saying anlam i yorum , and him then saying then kataleveno , which means ‘I don’t understand’ in Turkish and Greek, and then we laugh. I didn’t think I could enjoy things after Gallipoli. And we are being hunted. But still.
    Father cannot walk far. We set up camp in an olive grove after only maybe eight miles. I wish that thief Mehmet had not stolen my Homer. He gave Father back his Bible, he could have given me back my Iliad . But the Bible is the best book in the world, of course. But Abdul and I can tell stories. I told him about the quarrel between the heroes which started the Trojan war. He told us about the female ghouls who haunt the desert and eat men’s hearts and suck their blood. They must be called War.
    July 21st
    I am getting better at cooking. Abdul can’t cook, he says it’s women’s work. But I learnt to cook from shearers’ cooks and they were all men. I managed to cook the beans down until they were mushy and made an oniony stew which Father said was good and easy on his loose teeth. Perhaps I can find some lemons. I think they would grow here. I remember how to make damper but I need some flour. We walked another eight miles or so along this dusty road, ready to dive into the woods if anyone came, but no one did. We are camped under more olive trees. They give a nice oil which you can cook with if you have any, but the trees are not guarded much because you can’t eat olives off the tree. I know, I tried. When we camp we light a little fire, just enough to cook our dinner. I found a patch of wild mint and made tea with it. Most refreshing.
    July 22nd
    We walked further today. Fully ten miles. We are to one side of Gelibolu, where Abdul changed the money. I am wondering whether to leave Father and go into the town to get some more supplies. Father seems to be calm and sleepy and might easily just stay under cover until we come back. We are almost out of food. I’ll have to risk it.
    LATER Gelibolu has a large mosque, a hero’s tomb and a lot of stone houses. It is on the edge of the sea and I thought about getting on a boat but they only go to other places in Turkey so that would not be a help, really. Abdul dived into a maze of lanes around the market and I just followed. I was scared to begin with but no one was looking at us—just another pair of boys—and Abdul is very good at cheeky replies to people who call out to us. They just laughed and left us alone. He went on and on with a lady who was wearing bright clothes and a very thin veil. He called her Moon of Delight and Star of Evening. It was silly. We bought flour, oil and salt and some vegetables, including lemons. On the way back we bought a piece of borek each. It was like a meat pastie and it tasted wonderful. I could not save a bit for Father because it had meat in it. Abdul was craving sweets so we found some rather dusty boiled lollies. Gelibolu seems to be thriving, though it has a lot of soldiers and army trucks. People were singing and bargaining and selling things and sitting in the shade drinking tea and talking. It felt far away from the war but you could still hear the guns. There is some news of the war. There was a big sea battle at Canakkale against the British. The Turks won. They call it Deniz Zaferi. People are still talking about it though it happened in March.
    When we got back we