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My father (pop) had no respect at all for Churchill. When they were sent to the Dardanelles, they had received no training at all. His unit was decimated with very few survivors. He always blamed Churchill as it was his decision to send untrained soldiers into action to be slaughtered.
Pop was separated from his unit and spent days, then weeks, in the desert with just his donkey for company. When date ate and drank his donkey ate and drank. We he ate and drank the donkey ate and drank. That donkey kept him alive; it kept him sane.
When he eventually made it back to a British depot, the first thing the guard on the gate did was shoot pop鈥檚 donkey straight through the head. 鈥淣o use for that thing here.鈥�
Pop was just 18 at the time. He was absolutely devastated and he never got over it for the rest of his life, telling the story over and over to anyone who would listen.

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