It is easy to forget the huge loss of lives of the British Soldiers. Indeed many of these battalions losses were enormous. Recently, I was sent some letters from Alan Browitt, who's Grandfather Corporal Richard Browitt ,served in the 1st Battalion, XX The Lancashire Fusiliers. He was Killed In Action at Suvla Bay on the 21st of August, 1915, leaving behind a wife and nine children, who later came to Australia with the aid of the Salvation Army.

Corporal Richard Browitt 4738 was K.I.A during the battle of Scimitar Hill. The 1st Bn Lancashire Fusiliers were the support battalion for the 1st Bn Royal Munster Fusiliers and their objective was "112 Metre Hill" about 500 yards south and slightly east of the main objective. The attack was a complete failure with the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers losing 131 men killed or dying of wounds on the 21st alone. The battalion was at Gallipoli for the entire campaign, from first assault till final evacuation - famously, they won "six VC's before breakfast" on W Beach 25th April 1915. During their time on the peninsula they lost 613 men Killed In Action, Died of Wounds and died of disease.

In World War I, the Lancashire Fusiliers from its pre-war two regular, two reserve and four territorial battalions, raised a total of 31 battalions. During involvement in campaigns in all theatres, the XXth Fusiliers lost 13,642 men killed in action. It won more VCs, a total of eighteen, than any other regiment during the Great War. During the Gallipoli campaign, six battalions of the XXth won six VCs, 4 DSOs, 5 MCs, 2 CBs, 13 DCMs, and 43 MiDs.

I now write these few line to let you know that we have got to Gibralter and we are still 6 days sail off our destination. I must tell you we had a narrow escape of being run down as there was two German submarines after us and only for one of our torpedo boats they would have sunk us. We got over that all right but last night we had a narrow escape of being run into by one of our own boats in a fog at 2 o'clock in the morning but I am still safe and enjoying the sail but it would do you good to see the men, most of them lying about the deck sick. I got your P.6 all right and I was never glad of anything more in my life. I thank you more than ever. You must not forget my tobacco every week as we shall get any more pay we have been told so do what you can for me. Don't hurt yourself any more than you can help as I will try to manage. I shall make another allotment of 6 pence per day to you soon as I get ashore, so now I must say good morning and God bless you.

I now write these few lines to you hoping you all right and the children, as it leaves me all right at present. We have arrived at the war all right and we have had a splendid voyage across the Ocean. I hope you got my last letter while we was sailing and the postcard that I sent Dear Wife. I can not tell you much as at does not do to put to much in letters as it would give information to the enemy if the mail was captured so you must not expect much. I hope you will send on 1/2 pound of thick twist and a pipe or two as we cannot get any out here so now I must say Good Night and I hope and trust that God will protect you untill I come back which will not be long I hope for your sake so do not fret about me. I will be all right there is no Turk that can shoot me. Good night and God bless you all.

I write these few lines hoping to find you bearing up as well as can be expected under the unfortunate circumstances. I've been ill these last few days so could not write. Poor Old Dick ? out there. We made a short rush about 50 yards and we fell flat on our stomachs being under a heavy fire, we were side by side. I spoke to poor Dick but he couldn't speak or move. I then shook him to see what I could do for him ? poor Dick got hit in the heart he ? not ? had he made it up to ? there mon.... ? I forgot where I was going. I was ? it being ? and we only stopped 3 minutes ? and then had to go forward, he was always cheerful and was always talking about what me and him would do when the war was over. Poor Dick was game and was glad when we got the order when he was hit at Suvla Bay close by the salt lake on the 21st August about half past four in the afternoon. I nearly went the same way as my poor chum. I was hit one inch below the heart, but have to go again, so no more at present.

Mrs Browitt, with a platoon of boisterous, healthy boys, sat in the little office of the Salvation Army Immigration Department, and speaking with a distinctly Lancashire flavor, told a little of her story of what prompted her to exercise her pluck and make the big venture half across the world.

She is one of the many brave widows left to struggle on as a result of the great war. Her husband, Corporal Richard Browitt, of the Lancashire Fusillers, enlisted at the beginning of activities, and fell at Suvla Bay in 1915. He had also seen previous service in Egyptian campaigns.

Left with eight boys and a girl to face the world, the eldest being only 15 years, Mrs Browitt saw in Australia a golden opportunity, and by the Overseas Settlement Scheme of the British Government her ways were made easier. The Salvation Army took up her case, and by their organisation the whole family reached Melbourne last week in good fettle and with the spirit of the war-horse: ready for anything.

The Army people in the meantime had been busy, and had in readiness in Gippsland a place of domicile for the mother and smaller boys while farms are at the disposal of the elder lads. And the lure of the land is strong with them.

The boys and girls are a fine type. Asked by a representive as to England, Mrs Browitt said: "The old land is in a shocking state. My boy had done nothing for 38 weeks - no work. I heard of others who came out under the Army's protection. I shall never forget the way they have assisted me, and shall not be slow in saying so when I get settled."

An open - faced, black - eyed boy is Noah: and in response to a request as to what he intended to do, he said, "Oh farming: onnythin' o' that." With a tinge of humor in her voice. Mrs Browitt interpolated, "That would make a splendid hawker. He's always at the market.