Theater: Gallipoli
Nationality: British
Formation: ANZAC
Position: Combat Medic
Status: KIA

Alistair in the process of bringing an injured man to the aid station

Born in London, February 1895 it would be correct to say that Alistair was both privileged and gifted. Both were purely born of circumstance as he had no control over the fact that he began life as the sole child of a wealthy family and had no say in the matter when it came to his natural intellect. Early on it was believed that Ali would go on and do great things, even take up his father's mantle in being a businessman and edgy entrepreneur. Yet he was something of an awkward fellow and grew so comfortable with his natural intelligence that he grew to be someone arrogant and apathetic. Primary school was no issue at all and even secondary school didn't offer much of a challenge. Yet his marks didn't reflect that at all. Alistair thought he already knew everything he needed to and slacked off immensely, preferring to bury his head in some classic novel or daydreaming his life away.

His father, being increasingly disappointed in his son, shipped him off to the fledgling nation of Australia where he would finish out his education. Mr. Lydgate had decreed that he would learn medicine and be something of a doctor. While Alistair showed something of an aptitude for dealing with death and gore, his heart simply wasn't in it; an unfortunate turn of events when the war began and he was selected for the role of combat medic. At first Alistair was exhilarated by the thought of combat for Queen and country. It would be just like those old books he read back home. Unfortunately any romanticized fantasies were immediately squelched during the first week of boot camp.

For all intensive purposes Alistair had been expected to be shipped back to London to complete his training. That was after all where he was born so it wasn't a leap to imagine that he would be put in with a proper English regiment. As had become pattern by this point in his life, unfortunate circumstances worked against him. Either by some damnable stroke of fate or mixed up paperwork the young soldier was thrown in with the ANZAC forces in Egypt. Not being that great of a soldier, nor that prolific of a medic, the young pommy had a sinking feeling that he'd never see home again.

April 1915:

  • Landed with the first wave and fought deep into the mainland before being forced to retreat.
  • Maintained health of soldiers on the front line before returning to the aid station to help deal with the masses of wounded.
  • Second member of a third man wiring party, received a fatal stomach wound. Rescued by the Red Cross and returned to duty after being nursed back to health.

Killed in August 1915 assaulting a Turkish position.

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