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Title: The Dardanelles campaign
Author: Nevinson, Henry Woodd
Language: English
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CAMPAIGN ***
THE DARDANELLES CAMPAIGN
_By the same Author_
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NEIGHBOURS OF OURS: Scenes of East End
Life.
IN THE VALLEY OF TOPHET: Scenes of
Black Country Life.
THE THIRTY DAYS’ WAR: Scenes in the
Greek and Turkish War of 1897.
LADYSMITH: A Diary of the Siege.
CLASSIC GREEK LANDSCAPE AND
ARCHITECTURE: Text to John
Fulleylove’s Pictures of Greece.
THE PLEA OF PAN.
BETWEEN THE ACTS: Scenes in the
Author’s Experience.
ON THE OLD ROAD THROUGH FRANCE TO
FLORENCE: French Chapters to Hallam
Murray’s Pictures.
BOOKS AND PERSONALITIES: A Volume of
Criticism.
A MODERN SLAVERY: An Investigation of
the Slave System in Angola and the
Islands of San Thomé and Principe.
THE DAWN IN RUSSIA: Scenes in the
Revolution of 1905–1906.
THE NEW SPIRIT IN INDIA: Scenes during
the Unrest of 1907–1908.
ESSAYS IN FREEDOM.
THE GROWTH OF FREEDOM: A Summary of
the History of Democracy.
[Illustration: GENERAL SIR IAN HAMILTON. G.C.B., D.S.O.
FROM A PORTRAIT BY JOHN S. SARGENT. R.A.]
THE DARDANELLES
CAMPAIGN
BY
HENRY W. NEVINSON
_THIRD AND REVISED EDITION_
[Illustration]
London
NISBET & CO. LTD.
22 BERNERS STREET W. 1
_First Published_ _November 1918_
_Second Edition_ _December 1918_
_Third and Revised Edition_ _March 1920_
DEDICATED TO
THOSE WHO FELL ON THE
GALLIPOLI PENINSULA
Οἱ δ’ αὐτοῦ περὶ τεῖχος
θήκας Ἰλιάδος γᾶς
εὔμορφοι κατέχουσιν’ ἐχθρὰ δ’ ἔχοντας ἔκρυψεν.
Beside the ruins of Troy they lie buried,
those men so beautiful; there they have their
burial-place, hidden in an enemy’s land.
_The Agamemnon, 453–455._
Ἀνδρῶν ἐπιφανῶν πᾶσα γῆ τάφος, καὶ οὐ στηλῶν
μόνον ἐν τῇ οἰκείᾳ σημαίνει ἐπιγραφὴ, ἀλλὰ
καὶ ἐν τῇ μὴ προσηκούσῃ ἄγραφος μνήμη
παρ᾽ ἑκάστῳ τῆς γνώμης μᾶλλον ἢ τοῦ ἔργου
ἐνδιαιτᾶται.
Of conspicuous men the whole world is the
tomb, and it is not only inscriptions on
tablets in their own country which chronicle
their fame, but rather, even in distant
lands, unwritten memorials living for ever,
not upon visible monuments, but in the hearts
of mankind.
PERICLES’ FUNERAL SPEECH;
_Thucydides_, ii. 43.
PREFACE
From the outset the Dardanelles Campaign attracted me with peculiar
interest. The shores of the Straits were the scene of the Trojan epics
and dramas. They were explored and partly inhabited by a race whose
legends and history had been more familiar to me from boyhood than my
own country’s, and more inspiring. They belonged to that beautiful part
of the world with which I had become personally intimate during the
wars, rebellions, and other disturbances of the previous twenty years.
But, above all, I was attracted to the Campaign because I regarded it
as a strategic conception surpassing others in promise. My reasons are
referred to in various chapters of this book, and indeed they were
obvious. The occupation of Constantinople would have paralysed Turkey
as an ally of the Central Powers; it would have blocked their path to
the Middle East, and averted danger from Egypt, the Persian Gulf, and
India; it would have released the Russian forces in the Caucasus for
action elsewhere; it would have secured the neutrality, if not the
active co-operation, of the Balkan States, and especially of Bulgaria,
not only the most resolute and effective of them, but a State well
disposed to ourselves and the Russian people by history and sentiment;
by securing Bulgaria’s friendship, it would have delivered Serbia from
fear of attack upon her eastern frontier, and have relieved Roumania
from similar apprehensions along the Danube and in the Dobrudja; it
would have confirmed the influence of Venizelos in Greece, and saved
King Constantine from military, financial, and domestic temptations to
Germanise; above all, it would thus have secured Russia’s left flank,
so enabling her to concentrate her entire forces upon the Lithuanian,
Polish, and Galician frontiers from the Memel to the Dniester.
The worst apprehensions of the Central Powers would then have been
fulfilled. Blockaded by the Allied fleets in the Adriatic, and by the
British fleet in the Channel and the North Sea, they would have found
themselves indeed surrounded by an iron ring, and, so far as prophecy
was possible, it seemed likely that the terms which our Alliance openly
professed as our objects in the war might have been obtained in the
spring of 1916. The subsidiary and more immediate consequences of
success in the Dardanelles, such as the supply of munitions to Russia,
and of Ukrainian wheat to our Alliance, were also to be considered.
The saying of Napoleon, in May, 1808, still held good: “At bottom the
great question is--Who shall have Constantinople?”
Under the prevailing influence of “Westerners” upon French and British
strategy, these probable advantages were either disregarded or
dismissed, and to dwell upon them now is a useless speculation. The
hopes suggested by the conception in 1915 have faded like a dream.
The dominant minds in our Alliance either failed to imagine their
significance, or were incapable of supplying the power required for
their realisation while at the same time pressing forward the proposed
offensive in France. The international situation of Europe, and indeed
of the world, is now changed, and the strategic map has been completely
altered. Early belligerents have disappeared from the field, and new
belligerents have entered the shifting scene. Already, in 1918, the
Dardanelles Expedition has passed into history, and may be counted
among the ghosts which history tries in vain to summon up. It is as an
episode of a vanished past that I have attempted to represent it--a
tragic episode enacted in the space of eleven months, but marked by
every attribute of noble tragedy, whether we consider the grandeur of
theme and personality, or the sympathy aroused by the spectacle of
heroic figures struggling against the unconscious adversity of fate and
the malign influences of hostile or deceptive power.
In treatment, I have made no attempt to rival my friend John
Masefield’s _Gallipoli_--that excellent piece of work, at once so
accurate and so brilliantly illuminated by poetic vision. Mine has
been the humbler task of simply recording the events as they occurred,
with such detail as seemed essential to complete the history, or was
accessible to myself. In this endeavour, I have trusted partly to the
books and documents mentioned below, partly to information generously
supplied to me by many of the principal actors upon the scene; also
to my own notes, writings, and memory, especially with regard to the
nature of the country and the events of which I was a witness. Accuracy
and justice have been my only aims, but in a work involving so much
detail and so many controverted questions mistakes in accuracy and
justice are scarcely to be avoided. I know the confusion of mind and
the distorted vision so frequent in all great crises of war, and I know
from long experience how ignorant may be the criticism applied to any
soldier from the Commander-in-Chief down to the private with a rifle.
The mention of the private with a rifle suggests my chief regret.
The method I have followed, in treating divisions or brigades or, at
the lowest, battalions as the units of action, almost obliterates
the individual soldier from consideration. Divisions, brigades, and
battalions are moved like pieces on a board, and Commanding Officers
must regard each of them only as a certain quantity of force acting
under the laws of time and space. Yet each of the so-called units is
made up of living men--men of distinctive personality and incalculably
varying nature. Men are the actual units in war as in the State,
and I do not forget the “common soldiers.” I do not overlook either
their natural failures or their astonishing performance. In various
campaigns and in many countries I have shared their apprehensions,
their hardships, their brief intervals of respite, and their laborious
triumphs. They, like the rest of mankind, have always filled me
with surprised admiration or poignant sympathy. Among the soldiers
of many races, but especially among the natives of these islands,
whom I could best understand, I have always found the fine qualities
which distinguish the majority of hardworking people, all of whom
live perpetually in perilous hardship. I have found a freedom from
rhetoric and vanity, a simple-hearted acceptance of life “in the first
intention,” taking life and death without much criticism as they come,
and concealing kindliness and the longing for happiness under a veil of
silence or protective irony. But a book of this kind has little place
for the mention of them, and that is my regret. Like a general, I have
been obliged to consider forces mainly in the mass, and must leave to
readers the duty of remembering, as I never cease to remember, that
all divisions and all platoons upon the Peninsula were composed of
ordinary men like ourselves--individual personalities subject to the
common sufferings of hunger, thirst, sickness, and pain; filled also
with the common delight in life, the common horror of death, and the
desire for peace and home. As in the case of general mankind, it was
their endurance, their courage, self-sacrifice, and all that is implied
in the ancient meanings of “virtue,” which excited my wonder.
Among those who have given me very kind assistance either on the
Dardanelles Peninsula or in London, I may mention with gratitude
General Sir Ian Hamilton, G.C.B., etc.; General Sir William R.
Birdwood, K.C.B., K.C.S.I., etc.; Major-General Sir Alexander Godley,
K.C.B., etc.; Major-General Sir A. H. Russell, K.C.M.G., etc.; the late
Lieut.-General Sir Frederick Stanley Maude, K.C.B.; Major-General Sir
W. R. Marshall, K.C.B.; Major-General H. B. Walker, C.B.; Major-General
Sir William Douglas, K.C.M.G.; Major-General F. H. Sykes, C.M.G.;
Major-General Sir D. Mercer, K.C.B.; Brigadier-General Freyberg, V.C.;
Colonel Leslie Wilson, D.S.O., M.P.; and Lieut. Douglas Jerrold,
R.N.V.D.; Vice-Admiral Sir Roger Keyes, K.C.B., etc.; Rear-Admiral
Heathcote Grant, C.B., etc.; Captain A. P. Davidson, R.N.; Captain
the Hon. Algernon Boyle, R.N.; Staff-Surgeon Levick, R.N.; and the
Rev. C. J. C. Peshall, R.N. It would indeed be difficult to draw up
a complete list of the Naval and Military officers to whom I owe my
thanks.
Having taken many photographs on the Peninsula, I posted them, as
I was directed, to the War Office, and never saw them again. I can
only hope that any one into whose possession they may happen to have
come upon the route, may find them as useful as I should have found
them in illustrating this book. My friend, Captain C. E. W. Bean, has
generously supplied me with some of his own photographs in their place.
For the rest I am permitted to use official pictures, taken by my
friend, Mr. Brooks. They are of course far superior to any I could have
taken, but some are already familiar.
The maps are for the most part constructed from the Staff Maps
(nominally Turkish, but mainly Austrian I believe) used by the G.H.Q.
upon the Peninsula. Some also are derived from drawings by Generals and
Staff Officers. For the larger maps of Anzac and Suvla I am indebted
to the assistance of Captain Treloar and the Australian Staff in
London, with permission of Sir Alexander Godley, and Brigadier-General
Richardson (formerly of the Royal Naval Division); and to Mr. S. B. K.
Caulfield.
The following is a list of the chief books and documents which I have
found useful:--
Sir Ian Hamilton’s Dispatches.
Sir Charles Monro’s Dispatch on the Evacuation.
The Dardanelles Commission Report, Part I.
_With the Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, by the Rev. O.
Creighton, Chaplain to the 86th Brigade (killed in France, April
1918).
_The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, by Major Bryan Cooper, 5th
Connaught Rangers.
_With the Zionists in Gallipoli_, by Lieut.-Colonel J. S. Patterson.
_The Immortal Gamble_, by A. J. Stewart, Acting Commander, R.N., and
the Rev. C. J. E. Peshall, Chaplain, R.N.
_Uncensored Letters from the Dardanelles_, by a French Medical
Officer.
_Australia in Arms_, by Phillip F. E. Schuler.
_The Story of the Anzacs._ (Messrs. Ingram & Sons, Melbourne.)
Mr. Ashmead Bartlett’s Dispatches from the Dardanelles.
_What of the Dardanelles?_ by Granville Fortescue.
_Two Years in Constantinople_, by Dr. Harry Stürmer.
_Inside Constantinople_, by Lewis Einstein.
_Nelson’s History of the War_, by Colonel John Buchan.
_The “Times” History of the War._
_The “Manchester Guardian” History of the War._
H. W. N.
LONDON, 1918.
_Secrets of the Bosphorus_, by Henry Morgenthau (1919), especially
illustrate pp. 144–145.
An interview with General von Sanders, by Mr. G. Ward Price, of the
_Daily Mail_, in Constantinople (Nov. 13, 1918), contains points of
military interest.
(Note to Second Edition.)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
THE ORIGIN
PAGE
Naval Bombardment, November 1914--Causes of German-Turkish
Alliance--Germany’s Eastern aims--Mistakes of British
diplomacy--The _Goeben_ and _Breslau_--The position of
Greece--Turkey declares war 1
CHAPTER II
THE INCEPTION
Mr. Churchill first suggests attack on Gallipoli--Russia’s
appeal for aid--A demonstration decided upon--The
War Council--Lord Kitchener--Mr. Asquith--Mr.
Churchill--Objects of his scheme--Lord Kitchener’s
objections--Admirals Fisher and Arthur Wilson--Their duty
as advisers--Lord Fisher’s opinion--Admiral Jackson’s
view--Admiral Carden on the scheme--War Council orders a
naval attack--Lord Fisher’s opposition--He gives reluctant
assent--Decision for a solely naval expedition 12
CHAPTER III
THE NAVAL ATTACKS
Council’s hesitation renewed--A military force prepared--The
29th Division detained--Description of the
Dardanelles--Mudros and the islands--Formation of the
fleet--Bombardment of February 19--Renewed on February
25--Further attacks in early March--Effect on Balkan
States--Mr. Churchill urges greater vigour--Admiral de
Robeck succeeds to command--The naval attack of March
18--Losses and comparative failure--Purely naval attacks
abandoned 40
CHAPTER IV
THE PREPARATION
Sir Ian Hamilton’s appointment--His qualifications--Misfortune
of delay--Transports returned for reloading--Sir Ian
in Egypt--The forces there--The “Anzacs”--Possible
lines of attack considered--The selected scheme--Chief
members of Sir Ian’s staff--Available forces--Sir Ian’s
address--Rupert Brooke’s death 64
CHAPTER V
THE LANDINGS
The Start from Mudros--Landing at De Tott’s Battery--Seddel
Bahr and V Beach--The _River Clyde_--Landing at V
Beach--Night there--W Beach or Lancashire Landing--Landing
at X Beach--Y2 and Y Beaches--Landing at Y Beach--Its
failure--Landing at Anzac--The positions won there--Feint
off Bulair--Captain Freyberg’s exploit--French feint at Kum
Kali 88
CHAPTER VI
THE TEN DAYS AFTER
Sir Ian’s decision to hold Anzac--Advance from V
Beach--Death of Doughty-Wylie--The French at V
Beach--Position of Krithia--Advance of April 28--Turkish
attack of May 1--Reinforcements arrive--Position at
Anzac--Casualties--Underestimate of wounded--Unhappy
results 123
CHAPTER VII
THE BATTLES OF MAY
State of Constantinople--Our submarines--Sir Ian’s reduced
forces--The guns--May 6 at Helles--May 7--May 8--The
Australian charge--The 29th Division--Trench warfare--Death
of General Bridges at Anzac--May 19 at Anzac--Armistice at
Anzac--Loss by hostile submarines--G.H.Q. at Imbros--Hope
of Russian aid abandoned--Mr. Churchill and Lord Fisher
resign 144
CHAPTER VIII
THE BATTLES OF JUNE
Situation on Peninsula--June 4 at Helles--French Colonial
troops--Arrival of General De Lisle--June 6 to 8 at
Helles--Losses--Want of guns--June 28 at Helles--The Gully
Ravine--Turkish proclamations--Position at Anzac--June 29
at Anzac--Discouragement--General Gouraud wounded--The war
in Poland and Italy 171
CHAPTER IX
THE PAUSE IN JULY
Local Turkish attacks--Turkish reinforcements--Our attacks
of July 12 and 13 at Helles--General Hunter-Weston
invalided--General Stopford’s arrival--Description of
Helles--Rations--Description of Anzac--The _Aragon_ at
Mudros--Arrival of General Altham--The _Saturnia_--Arrival
of Colonel Hankey--The monitors, “blister ships,” and
“beetles”--The 10th, 11th, and 13th Divisions--The 53rd
and 54th Divisions--Total forces in August--New scheme of
attack considered 195
CHAPTER X
THE VINEYARD, LONE PINE, AND THE NEK
Feints and arrangement of forces--August 6 at Helles--August
7 to 13--Fight for the Vineyard--Leane’s trenches at
Anzac--Lone Pine--Assault of August 6--Continuous
fighting till August 12--Assault on German officers’
trenches--Assault on the Nek, August 7 224
CHAPTER XI
SARI BAIR
Description of the range--Nature of the approaches--General
Godley’s force--His dispositions--Evening August 6 to
evening August 7--Capture of Old No. 3 Post--Capture
of Big Table Top--Capture of Bauchop’s Hill--Ascent of
Rhododendron Ridge--General Monash on Aghyl Dere--Evening
August 7 to evening August 8--Fresh dispositions--Summit of
Chunuk Ridge reached--Death of Colonel Malone--Attempt at
Abdel Rahman--Evening August 8 to evening August 9--Error
of Baldwin’s column--Major Allanson on Hill Q--View
of the Dardanelles--Party driven off by shells--Turks
regain the summit--Baldwin at the Farm--Party on Chunuk
Ridge relieved--Evening August 9 to evening August
10--Fresh party on Chunuk Ridge destroyed--Turks swarm
over summit--Fighting at the Farm--Death of General
Baldwin--Turks driven back to summit--Causes of comparative
failure 247
CHAPTER XII
SUVLA BAY
Description of the bay and surrounding country--General
Stopford and IXth Corps--Divisional Generals--Evening
August 6 to evening August 7--The embarkation--Work of the
Navy--The landing beaches--Capture of Lala Baba--Ill-luck
of 34th Brigade--Delay and confusion of Brigades and
Divisions--Hill’s Brigade (31st)--Its advance round Salt
Lake--Capture of Chocolate Hill--General Mahon on Kiretch
Tepe Sirt--Evening August 7 to evening August 8--Silence
at Suvla--Failure of water distribution--Sir Ian visits
Suvla--His orders to General Hammersley--Scimitar Hill
abandoned by mistake--Evening August 8 to evening August
9--Turks reinforced return to positions--Failure of our
attack on Scimitar Hill--Sir Ian proposes occupation
of Kavak and Tekke Tepes--He sends his last reserve to
Suvla--Evening August 9 to evening August 10--Renewed
attack on Scimitar Hill--Its failure--General Stopford
ordered to consolidate line--Evening August 10 to evening
August 11--Landing of 54th Division--Confusion of front
lines--Battalions reorganised--Evening August 11 to evening
August 12--Sir Ian again urges occupation of Kavak and
Tekke Tepes--Disappearance of 5th Norfolks--General
Stopford’s objections--The 10th Division on Kiretch Tepe
Sirt (August 15)--Failure to maintain advance--General De
Lisle succeeds General Stopford temporarily in command of
IXth Corps--Other changes in command 286
CHAPTER XIII
THE LAST EFFORTS
Causes of the failure in August--Advantages gained--Approximate
losses--Adequate reinforcements refused--Arrival of
Peyton’s mounted Division--Renewed attempt against Scimitar
Hill (August 21)--Mistakes in the advance on right--The
29th Division in centre--Advance of the Yeomanry--Failure
to occupy the hill--Attack on Hill 60 from Anzac--Kabak
Kuyu (August 21)--Connaught Rangers--Slow progress of
attack--Second attack (August 27)--Third attack (August
29)--Last battle on the Peninsula 333
CHAPTER XIV
SIR IAN’S RECALL
Sickness increases during September--Monotonous food--Regret
for dead and wounded--New drafts--Fears of winter--Sir
Julian Byng commands IXth Corps--Events in France, Poland,
and the Balkans--Attitude of Bulgaria and Greece--The 10th
Division and one French sent to Salonika--Bulgaria declares
war--Venizelos resigns--Serbia invaded--Salonika expedition
too late, but destroys hope of Dardanelles--Lord Kitchener
inquires about evacuation--Sir Ian’s reply--He is recalled
356
CHAPTER XV
THE FIFTH ACT
Sir Charles Monro arrives--His report--The advocates of
evacuation--Lord Kitchener visits the Peninsula--General
Birdwood appointed to command--Storm and blizzard of
November--General Birdwood ordered to evacuate Suvla and
Anzac--Estimate of Turkish forces--Our ruses--Arrangements
at Suvla--Risks of the final nights--Embarkation at
Suvla--Problem at Anzac--Final arrangements--Evacuation
of Anzac--Uncertainty about Helles--Evacuation
ordered--Turkish attacks--Final withdrawal (January 8,
1916)--Recapitulation of causes of failure--Concluding
observations--The end 374
INDEX 413
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
GENERAL SIR IAN HAMILTON _Frontispiece_
_From a portrait by John S. Sargent, R.A._
FACING PAGE
SERVICE ON BOARD THE _QUEEN ELIZABETH_ 24
GENERAL SIR WILLIAM BIRDWOOD 44
THE _RIVER CLYDE_, “V” BEACH, AND SEDDEL BAHR 94
LIEUT.-COL. C. H. H. DOUGHTY-WYLIE 128
ANZAC COVE 138
FRENCH DUG-OUT AT HELLES 174
GENERAL GOURAUD STANDING WITH GENERAL BAILLOUD 194
WATER-CARRIERS AT ANZAC 206
A “BEETLE” 214
GENERAL SIR IAN HAMILTON (_1918_) 228
MONASH GULLY 244
MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ALEXANDER GODLEY 256
BIG TABLE TOP 260
OCEAN BEACH 284
ANZAC IN SNOW 384
SCENE ON SUVLA POINT 394
MAPS
FACING PAGE
HELLES AND THE STRAITS 78
POSITIONS AT ANZAC 112
SUVLA LANDING 286
32ND BRIGADE, AUGUST 8 316
11TH DIVISION, AUGUST 21 341
_At End of Book_
1. THE PENINSULA, THE STRAITS, AND CONSTANTINOPLE.
2. BRITISH AND FRENCH TRENCHES AT HELLES.
3. POSITIONS AT ANZAC (END OF AUGUST).
4. POSITIONS AT SUVLA (END OF AUGUST).
THE DARDANELLES CAMPAIGN
CHAPTER I
THE ORIGIN
On November 3, 1914, the silence of the Dardanelles was suddenly broken
by an Anglo-French naval squadron, which opened fire upon the forts at
the entrance of that historic strait. The bombardment lasted only ten
minutes, its object being merely to test the range of the Turkish guns,
and no damage seems to have been inflicted on either side. The ships
belonged to the Eastern Mediterranean Allied Squadrons, commanded by
Vice-Admiral Sackville Carden, and the order to bombard was given by
the Admiralty, Mr. Winston Churchill being First Lord. The War Council
was not consulted, and Admiral Sir Henry Jackson, Commander-in-Chief in
the Mediterranean, in his evidence before the Dardanelles Commission
described the bombardment as a mistake, because it was likely to put
the Turks on the alert. Commodore de Bartolomé, Naval Secretary to
the First Lord, also said he considered it unfortunate, presumably
for the same reason.[1] Even Turks, unaided by Germans, might have
foreseen the ultimate necessity of strengthening the fortification
of the Straits, but at the beginning they would naturally trust to
the long-recognised difficulty of forcing a passage up the swift and
devious channel which protects the entrance to the Imperial City more
securely than a mountain pass.
War between the Allies and Turkey became certain only three days
before (October 31), but from the first the temptation of the Turkish
Government to throw in their lot with “Central Europe” was powerful.
It is true that, during three or four decades of last century, Turkey
counted upon England for protection, and that by the Crimean War
and the Treaty of Berlin England had protected her, with interested
generosity, as a serviceable though frail barrier against Russian
designs. But the British occupation of Egypt, the British intervention
in Crete and Macedonia, and perhaps also the knowledge that a body of
Englishmen fought for Greece in her disastrous campaign of 1897, shook
Turkish confidence in the supposed protection; while, on the other
hand, Abdul Hamid’s atrocious persecution of his subject races proved
to the British middle classes that, though the Turk was described
as “the gentleman of the Near East,” he still possessed qualities
undesirable in an ally of professing Christians. Besides, within the
last eight years (since 1906), the understanding between England and
Russia had continually grown more definite, until it resulted in open
alliance at the outbreak of the war; and Russia had long been Turkey’s
relentless and insatiable foe. For she had her mind steadily set upon
Constantinople, partly because, by a convenient and semi-religious
myth, the Tsars regarded themselves as the natural heirs of the
Byzantine Emperors, and partly in the knowledge that the possession of
the Bosphorus and the Dardanelles was essential for the development of
Russia’s naval power.
[Sidenote: HOW GERMANY WON TURKEY]
Germany was not slow in taking up the part of Turkey’s friend as bit
by bit it fell from England’s hand. If, in Lord Salisbury’s phrase,
England found in the ’nineties that at the time of the Crimean War she
had put her money on the wrong horse, Germany continued to back the
weak-kneed and discarded outsider. Germany’s voice was never heard
in the widespread outcry against “the Red Sultan.” German diplomacy
regarded all Balkan races and Armenians with indifferent scorn. It
called them “sheepstealers” (_Hammeldiebe_), and if Abdul Hamid chose
to stamp upon troublesome subjects, that was his own affair. With that
keen eye to his country’s material interest which, before the war, made
him the most enterprising and successful of commercial travellers,
Kaiser Wilhelm II., repeating the earlier visit of 1889, visited the
Sultan in state at the height of his unpopularity (1898), commemorated
the favour by the gift of a deplorable fountain to the city, and
proceeded upon a speculative pilgrimage to Jerusalem, which holy city
German or Turkish antiquarians patched with the lath and plaster
restorations befitting so curious an occasion.
The prolonged negotiations over the concession of the Bagdad railway
ensued, the interests of Turkey and Germany alike being repeatedly
thwarted by England’s opposition, up to the very eve of the present
war, when Sir Edward Grey withdrew our objection, providing only for
our interests on the section between Bagdad and the Persian Gulf.[2]
During the Young Turk revolution of 1908–1909, English Liberal opinion
was enthusiastic in support of the movement and in the expectation
of reform. But our diplomacy, always irritated at new situations and
suspicious of extended liberties, eyed the change with a chilling
scepticism which threw all the advantage into the hands of Baron
Marschall von Biberstein, the German Ambassador in Constantinople. His
natural politeness and open-hearted industry contrasted favourably with
the habitual aloofness or leisured indifference of British Embassies;
and so it came about that Enver Pasha, the military leader of Young
Turkey, was welcomed indeed by the opponents of Abdul Hamid’s tyranny
at a public dinner in London, but went to reside in Berlin as military
attaché.
[Sidenote: GERMANY’S EASTERN AIMS]
Germany’s object in this astute benevolence was not concealed. With
her rapidly increasing population, laborious, enterprising, and better
trained than other races for the pursuit of commerce and technical
industries, she naturally sought outlets to vast spaces of the world,
such as Great Britain, France, and Russia had already absorbed. The
immense growth of her wealth, combined with formidable naval and
military power, encouraged the belief that such expansion was as
practicable as necessary. But the best places in the sun were now
occupied. She had secured pretty fair portions in Africa, but France,
England, and Belgium had better. Brazil was tempting, but the United
States proclaimed the Monroe doctrine as a bar to the New World.
Portugal might sell Angola under paternal compulsion, but its provinces
were rotten with slavery, and its climate poisonous. Looking round
the world, Germany found in the Turkish Empire alone a sufficiently
salubrious and comparatively vacant sphere for her development; and it
is difficult to say what more suitable sphere we could have chosen to
allot for her satisfaction, without encroaching upon our own preserves.
Even the patch remaining to Turkey in Europe is a fine market-place;
with industry and capital most of Asia Minor would again flourish as
“the bright cities of Asia” have flourished before; there is no reason
but the Ottoman curse why the sites of Nineveh and Babylon should
remain uninhabited, or the Garden of Eden lie desolate as a wilderness
of alternate dust and quagmire.
But to reach this land of hope and commerce the route by sea was
long, and exposed to naval attack throughout its length till the
Dardanelles were reached. The overland route must, therefore, be
kept open, and three points of difficulty intervened, even if the
alliance with Austria-Hungary permanently held good. The overland
route passed through Serbia (by the so-called “corridor”), and behind
Serbia stood the jealous and watchful power of the Tsars; it passed
through Bulgaria, which would have to be persuaded by solid arguments
on which side her material interests lay; and it passed through
Constantinople, ultimately destined to become the bridgehead of the
Bagdad railway--the point from which trains might cross a Bosphorus
suspension bridge without unloading. There the German enterprise
came clashing up against Russia’s naval ambition and Russia’s rooted
sentiment. There the Kaiser, imitating the well-known epigram of
Charles v., might have said: “My cousin the Tsar and I desire the same
object--namely, Constantinople.” There lay the explanation of Professor
Mitrofanoff’s terrible sentence in the _Preussische Jahrbücher_ of June
1914: “Russians now see plainly that the road to Constantinople lies
through Berlin.” The Serajevo murders on the 28th of the same month
were but the occasion of the Great War. The corridor through Serbia,
and the bridgehead of the Bosphorus, ranked among the ultimate causes.
The appearance (Dec. 1913) of a German General, Liman von Sanders,
in Constantinople shortly after the second Balkan War, if it did not
make the Great War inevitable, drove the Turkish alliance in case
of war inevitably to the German side. He succeeded to more than the
position of General Colman von der Goltz, appointed to reorganise the
Turkish army in 1882. Accompanied by a German staff, the Kaiser’s
delegate began at once to act as a kind of Inspector-General of the
Turkish forces, and when war broke out they fell naturally under his
control or command. The Turkish Government appeared to hesitate nearly
three months before definitely adopting a side. The uneasy Sultan,
decrepit with forty years of palatial imprisonment under a brother
who, upon those terms only, had borne his existence near the throne,
still retained the Turk’s traditional respect for England and France.
So did his Grand Vizier, Said Halim. So did a large number of his
subjects, among whom tradition dies slowly. With tact and a reasonable
expenditure of financial persuasion, the ancient sympathy might have
been revived when all had given it over; and such a revival would have
saved us millions of money and thousands of young and noble lives,
beyond all calculation of value.
[Sidenote: ENGLAND’S ATTITUDE TO TURKEY]
But, most disastrously for our cause, the tact and financial persuasion
were all on the other side. The Allies, it is true, gave the Porte
“definite assurances that, if Turkey remained neutral, her independence
and integrity would be respected during the war and in the terms of
peace.”[3] But similar and stronger assurances had been given both at
the Treaty of Berlin and at the outbreak of the first Balkan War in
1912. Unfortunately for our peace, Turkey had discovered that at the
Powers’ perjuries Time laughs, nor had Time long to wait for laughter.
Following upon successive jiltings, protestations of future affection
are cautiously regarded unless backed by solid evidences of good faith;
but the Allies, having previously refused loans which Berlin hastened
to advance, had further revealed the frivolity of their intentions
the very day before war with Germany was declared, by seizing the
two Dreadnought battleships, _Sultan Osman_ and _Reshadie_, then
building for the Turkish service in British dockyards. Upon these two
battleships the Turks had set high, perhaps exaggerated, hopes, and
Turkish peasants had contributed to their purchase; for they regarded
them as insurance against further Greek aggression among the islands
of the Asiatic coast. Coming on the top of the Egyptian occupation,
the philanthropic interference with sovereign atrocity, the Russian
alliance, and the refusal of loans, their seizure overthrew the shaken
credit of England’s honesty, and one might almost say that for a couple
of Dreadnoughts we lost Constantinople and the Straits.[4]
[Sidenote: GERMANY TAKES HER ADVANTAGE]
With lightning rapidity, Germany seized the advantage of our
blunder. At the declaration of war, the _Goeben_, one of her finest
battle-cruisers, a ship of 22,625 tons, capable of 28 knots, and armed
with ten 11-inch guns, twelve 5·9-inch, and twelve lesser guns, was
stationed off Algeria, accompanied by the fast light cruiser _Breslau_
(4478 tons, twelve 4·1 inch guns), which had formed part of the
international force at Durazzo during the farcical rule of Prince von
Wied in Albania. After bombarding two Algerian towns, they coaled at
Messina, and, escaping thence with melodramatic success, eluded the
Allied Mediterranean command, and reached Constantinople through the
Dardanelles, though suffering slight damage from the light cruiser
_Gloucester_ (August 8 or 9). When Sir Louis Mallet and the other
Allied Ambassadors demanded their dismantlement, the Kaiser, with
constrained but calculated charity, nominally sold or presented them
to Turkey as a gift, crews, guns, and all. Here, then, were two fine
ships, not merely building, but solidly afloat and ready to hand. The
gift was worth an overwhelming victory to the foreseeing donor.[5]
Germany’s representatives pressed this enormous advantage by inducing
the Turkish Government to appoint General Liman Commander-in-Chief, and
to abrogate the Capitulations. They advanced fresh loans, and fomented
the Pan-Islamic movement in Asia Minor, Egypt, Persia, and perhaps in
Northern India. They even disseminated the peculiar rumour that the
Kaiser, in addition to his material activities, had adopted the Moslem
faith. The dangerous tendency was so obvious that, after three weeks’
war, Mr. Winston Churchill concluded that Turkey might join the Central
Powers and declare war at any moment. On September 1 he wrote privately
to General Douglas, Chief of the Imperial General Staff:
“I arranged with Lord Kitchener yesterday that two officers from
the Admiralty should meet two officers from the D.M.O.’s (Director
of Military Operations) Department of the War Office to-day to
examine and work out a plan for the seizure, by means of a Greek army
of adequate strength, of the Gallipoli Peninsula, with a view to
admitting a British Fleet to the Sea of Marmora.”
Two days later, General Callwell, the D.M.O., wrote a memorandum upon
the subject, in which he said:
“It ought to be clearly understood that an attack upon the Gallipoli
Peninsula from the sea side (outside the Straits) is likely to prove
an extremely difficult operation of war.”
He added that it would not be justifiable to undertake this operation
with an army of less than 60,000 men.[6]
Here, then, we have the first mention of the Dardanelles Expedition.
It will be noticed that the idea was Mr. Churchill’s, that he depended
upon a Greek army to carry it out, and that General Callwell, the
official adviser upon such subjects, considered it extremely difficult,
and not to be attempted with a landing force of less than 60,000 men.
In mentioning a Greek army, Mr. Churchill justly relied upon M.
Venizelos, at that time by far the ablest personality in the Near East,
entirely friendly to ourselves, and Premier of Greece, which he had
saved from chaos and greatly extended in territory by his policy of the
preceding five or six years. But Mr. Churchill forgot to take account
of two important factors. After the Balkan Wars of 1912 and 1913, King
Constantine’s imaginative but unwarlike people had acclaimed him both
as the Napoleon of the Near East and as the “Bulgar-slayer,” a title
borrowed from Byzantine history. Priding himself upon these insignia
of a military fame little justified by his military achievements from
1897 onward, the King of Greece posed as the plain, straightforward
soldier, and, perhaps to his credit, from the first refused approval
of a Dardanelles campaign, though he professed himself willing to
lead his whole army along the coast through Thrace to the City. The
profession was made the more easily through his consciousness that
the offer would not be accepted.[7] For the other factor forgotten by
Mr. Churchill was the certain refusal of the Tsar to allow a single
Greek soldier to advance a yard towards the long-cherished prize of
Constantinople and the Straits.
[Sidenote: TURKEY DECLARES WAR]
Turkish hesitation continued up to the end of October, when the war
party under Enver Pasha, Minister of War, gained a dubious predominance
by sending out the Turkish fleet, which rapidly returned, asserting
that the ships had been fired upon by Russians (Oct. 28)--an assertion
believed by few. On the 29th, Turkish torpedo boats (at first reported
as the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_) bombarded Odessa and Theodosia, and a
swarm of Bedouins invaded the Sinai Peninsula. Turkey declared war on
the 31st. Sir Louis Mallet left Constantinople on November 1, and on
the 5th England formally declared war upon Turkey.
CHAPTER II
THE INCEPTION
The breach with Turkey, so pregnant with evil destiny, did not
attract much attention in England at the moment. All thoughts were
then fixed upon the struggle of our thin and almost exhausted line to
hold Ypres and check the enemy’s straining endeavour to command the
Channel coast by occupying Dunkirk, Calais, and Boulogne. The Turk’s
military reputation had fallen low in the Balkan War of 1912, and few
realised how greatly his power had been re-established under Enver
and the German military mission. Egypt was the only obvious point
of danger, and the desert of Sinai appeared a sufficient protection
against an unscientific and poverty-stricken foe; or, if the desert
were penetrated, the Canal, though itself the point to be protected,
was trusted to protect itself. On November 8, however, some troops
from India seized Fao, at the mouth of the Tigris-Euphrates, and, with
reinforcements, occupied Basrah on the 23rd, thus inaugurating that
Mesopotamian expedition which, after terrible vicissitudes, reached
Bagdad early in March 1917.
[Sidenote: THE CAMPAIGN SUGGESTED]
These measures, however, did not satisfy Mr. Churchill. At a meeting of
the War Council on November 25, he returned to his idea of striking at
the Gallipoli Peninsula, if only as a feint. Lord Kitchener considered
the moment had not yet arrived, and regarded a suggestion to collect
transport in Egypt for 40,000 men as unnecessary at present. In his
own words, Mr. Churchill “put the project on one side, and thought
no more of it for the time,” although horse-boats continued to be
sent to Alexandria “in case the War Office should, at a later stage,
wish to undertake a joint naval and military operation in the Eastern
Mediterranean.”[8]
On January 2, 1915, a telegram from our Ambassador at Petrograd
completely altered the situation. Russia, hard pressed in the Caucasus,
called for a demonstration against the Turks in some other quarter.
Certainly, at that moment, Russia had little margin of force. She was
gasping from the effort to resist Hindenburg’s frontal attack upon
Warsaw across the Bzura, and the contest had barely turned in her
favour during Christmas week. In the Caucasus the situation had become
serious, since Enver, by clever strategy, attempted to strike at Kars
round the rear of a Russian army which then appeared to threaten an
advance upon Erzeroum. On the day upon which the telegram was sent,
the worst danger had already been averted, for in the neighbourhood of
Sarikamish the Russians had destroyed Enver’s 9th Corps, and seriously
defeated the 10th and 11th. But this fortunate and unexpected result
was probably still unknown in Petrograd when our Ambassador telegraphed
his appeal.
On the following day (January 3, 1915) an answer, drafted in the War
Office, but sent through the Foreign Office, was returned, promising
a demonstration against the Turks, but fearing that it would be
unlikely to effect any serious withdrawal of Turkish troops in the
Caucasus. Sir Edward Grey considered that “when our Ally appealed for
assistance we were bound to do what we could.” But Lord Kitchener was
far from hopeful. He informed Mr. Churchill that the only place where a
demonstration might have some effect in stopping reinforcements going
East would be the Dardanelles. But he thought we could not do much to
help the Russians in the Caucasus; “we had no troops to land anywhere”;
“we should not be ready for anything big for some months.”[9]
So, by January 3, we were bound to some sort of a demonstration in the
Dardanelles, but Lord Kitchener regarded it as a mere feint in the hope
of withholding or recalling Turkish troops from the Caucasus, and he
evidently contemplated a purely or mainly naval demonstration which
we could easily withdraw without landing troops, and without loss of
prestige. In sending this answer to Petrograd, he does not appear to
have consulted the War Council as a whole. His decision, though not
very enthusiastic, was sufficient; for in the conduct of the war he
dominated the War Council, as he dominated the country.
[Sidenote: THE WAR COUNCIL]
The War Council had taken the place of the old Committee of Imperial
Defence (instituted in 1901, and reconstructed in 1904). The change was
made towards the end of November 1914, but, except in one important
particular, it was little more than a change in name. Like the old
Committee, the Council were merely a Committee of the Cabinet, with
naval and military experts added to give advice. The main difference
was that the War Council, instead of laying its decisions before the
Cabinet for approval or discussion, gave effect even to the most vital
of them upon its own responsibility, and thus gathered into its own
hands all deliberative and executive powers regarding military and
naval movements. Sir Edward Grey, as Foreign Secretary, Mr. Lloyd
George, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Lord Crewe, as Secretary
for India, occasionally attended the meetings, and Mr. Balfour was
invited to attend. But the real power remained with Mr. Asquith, the
Prime Minister, Lord Kitchener, the Secretary for War, and Mr. Winston
Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty. In Mr. Asquith’s own words:
“The daily conduct of the operations of the war was in the hands of the
Ministers responsible for the Army and Navy in constant consultation
with the Prime Minister.”[10]
[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER’S POWER]
This inner trinity of Ministers was dominated, as we said, by Lord
Kitchener’s massive personality. In his evidence before the Dardanelles
Commission, Mr. Churchill thus described the effect of that remarkable
man upon the other members:
“Lord Kitchener’s personal qualities and position played at this
time a very great part in the decision of events. His prestige and
authority were immense. He was the sole mouthpiece of War Office
opinion in the War Council. Every one had the greatest admiration
for his character, and every one felt fortified, amid the terrible
and incalculable events of the opening months of the war, by his
commanding presence. When he gave a decision, it was invariably
accepted as final. He was never, to my belief, overruled by the War
Council or the Cabinet in any military matter, great or small. No
single unit was ever sent or withheld contrary, not merely to his
agreement, but to his advice. Scarcely any one ever ventured to
argue with him in Council. Respect for the man, sympathy for him
in his immense labours, confidence in his professional judgment,
and the belief that he had plans deeper and wider than any we could
see, silenced misgivings and disputes, whether in the Council or at
the War Office. All-powerful, imperturbable, reserved, he dominated
absolutely our counsels at this time.”[11]
These sentences accurately express the ideal of Lord Kitchener as
conceived by the public mind. His large but still active frame, his
striking appearance, and his reputation for powerful reserve, in
themselves inspired confidence. His patient and ultimately successful
services in Egypt, the Soudan, South Africa, and India were famed
throughout the country, which discovered in him the very embodiment
of the silent strength and tenacity, piously believed to distinguish
the British nature. Shortly before the outbreak of war, Mr. Asquith as
Prime Minister had taken the charge of the War Office upon himself,
owing to Presbyterian Ulster’s threat of civil war, and the possibility
of mutiny among the British garrison in Ireland, if commanded to
proceed against that rather self-righteous population. When war with
Germany was declared, it so happened that Lord Kitchener was in
England, on the point of returning to Egypt, and Mr. Asquith handed
over to him his own office as Secretary for War. The Cabinet, and
especially Lord Haldane (then Lord Chancellor, but Minister of War
from 1905 to 1912), the most able of army organisers, urged him to
this step. But he needed no persuasion. He never thought of any other
successor as possible. As he has said himself:
“Lord Kitchener’s appointment was received with universal
acclamation, so much so indeed that it was represented as having been
forced upon a reluctant Cabinet by the overwhelming pressure of an
intelligent and prescient Press.”[12]
By the consent of all, Lord Kitchener was the one man capable of
conducting the war, and by the consent of most he remained the one
man, though he conducted it. Yet it might well be argued that the
public mind, incapable of perceiving complexity, accepted a simple
ideal of their hero which he himself had deliberately created. A hint
of the mistake may be found in Mr. Asquith’s speech.[13] He admitted
that Lord Kitchener was a masterful man; that he had been endowed
with a formidable personality, and was by nature rather disposed to
keep his own counsel. But he maintained that he “was by no means the
solitary and taciturn autocrat in the way he had been depicted.” One
may describe him as shy rather than aggressive, genial rather than
relentless, a reasonable peacemaker rather than a man of iron. Under
that unbending manner, he studiously concealed a love of beauty, both
human and artistic. Under a rapt appearance of far-reaching designs,
his mind was much occupied with inappropriate detail, and could relax
into trivialities. He was distinguished rather for sudden flashes of
intuition than for reasoned and elaborated plans. During the first
year of the war, his natural temptation to occupy himself in matters
better delegated to subordinates was increased by the absence in France
of experienced officers whom he could have trusted for staff work. He
became his own Chief of Staff,[14] and diverted much of his energy to
minor services. At the War Council he acted as his own expert, and
Sir James Murray, who always attended the meetings as Chief of the
Imperial General Staff, was never even asked to express an opinion. The
labours thus thrown upon Lord Kitchener, or mistakenly assumed, when
he was engaged upon the task of creating new armies out of volunteers,
and organising an unmilitary nation for war while the war thundered
across the Channel, were too vast and multifarious for a single brain,
however resolute. It is possible also that the course of years had
slightly softened the personal will which had withstood Lord Milner in
carrying through the peace negotiations at Pretoria, and Lord Curzon
in reforming the Viceroy’s Council at Simla. Nevertheless, when all is
said, all-powerful, imperturbable, reserved, Lord Kitchener dominated
absolutely the counsels of the war’s first year, and his service to the
country was beyond all estimate. It raises his memory far above the
reach of the malignant detraction attempted after his death by certain
organs of that “intelligent and prescient Press” which had shrieked
for his appointment.[15]
[Sidenote: MR. ASQUITH AS PRIME MINISTER]
Second in authority upon the War Council and with the nation, but
only second, stood Mr. Asquith. For six years he had been Prime
Minister--years marked by the restlessness and turbulence of expanding
liberty at home, and abroad by ever-increasing apprehension. Yet his
authority was derived less from his office than from personal qualities
which, as in Lord Kitchener’s case, the English people like to believe
peculiarly their own. He was incorruptible, above suspicion. His mind
appeared to move in a cold but pellucid atmosphere, free alike from
the generous enthusiasm and the falsehood of extremes. Sprung from the
intellectual middle-class, he conciliated by his origin, and encouraged
by his eminence. His eloquence was unsurpassed in the power of simple
statement, in a lucidity more than legal, and, above all, in brevity.
The absence of emotional appeal, and, even more, the absence of humour,
promoted confidence, while it disappointed. Here, people thought, was a
personality rather wooden and unimaginative, but trustworthy as one who
is not passion’s slave. No one, except rivals or journalistic wreckers,
ever questioned his devotion to the country’s highest interests as he
conceived them, and, as statesmen go, he appeared almost uninfluenced
by vanity.
Balliol and the Law had rendered him too fastidious and precise
for exuberant popularity, but under an apparent immobility and
educated restraint he concealed, like Lord Kitchener, qualities more
attractive and humane. Although conspicuous for cautious moderation,
he was not obdurate against reason, but could sing a palinode upon
changed convictions.[16] Unwavering fidelity to his colleagues, and
a magnanimity like Cæsar’s in combating the assaults of political
opponents, and disregarding the treachery of most intimate enemies,
surrounded him with a personal affection which surprised external
observers; while his restrained and unexpressive demeanour covered
an unsuspected kindliness of heart. In spite of his lapses into
fashionable reaction, most supporters of the Gladstonian tradition
still looked to him for guidance along the lines of peaceful and
gradual reform, when suddenly the war-cloud burst, obliterating in
one deluge all the outlines of peace and progress and law. The Tsar
who, with assumed philanthropy, had proposed the Peace Conferences
at The Hague; the ruler to whom the ambition of retaining the title
of “Friedenskaiser” was, perhaps honestly, attributed; the President
who had known how passionately France clung to peace; the Belgian
King who foresaw the devastation of his wealthy country; the stricken
Emperor who, through long years of disaster following disaster, had
hoped his distracted heritage might somehow hang together still--all
must have suffered a torture of anxiety and indecision during those
fateful days of July and August 1914. But upon none can the decision
have inflicted deeper suffering than upon a Prime Minister naturally
peaceful, naturally kindly, naturally indisposed to haste, plagued with
the scholar’s and the barrister’s torturing ability to perceive many
sides to every question, and hoping to crown a laborious life by the
accomplishment of political and domestic projects which, at the first
breath of war, must wither away. Yet he decided.
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S IDEA]
Third in influence upon the War Council (that is to say, upon the
direction of all naval and military affairs) stood Mr. Winston
Churchill. In his evidence before the Commission, Mr. Churchill stated:
“I was on a rather different plane. I had not the same weight or
authority as those two Ministers, nor the same power, and if they
said, This is to be done or not to be done, that settled it.”[17]
The Commissioners add in comment that Mr. Churchill here “probably
assigned to himself a more unobtrusive part than that which he actually
played.” The comment is justified in relation to the Dardanelles, not
merely because it is difficult to imagine Mr. Churchill playing an
unobtrusive part upon any occasion, but because, as we have seen, the
idea of a Dardanelles Expedition was specially his own. It was one
of those ideas for which we are sometimes indebted to the inspired
amateur. For the amateur, untrammelled by habitual routine, and not
easily appalled by obstacles which he cannot realise, allows his
imagination the freer scope, and contemplates his own particular
vision under a light that never was in office or in training-school.
In Mr. Churchill’s case, the vision of the Dardanelles was, in truth,
beatific. His strategic conception, if carried out, would have implied,
not merely victory, but peace. Success would at once have secured the
defence of Egypt, but far more besides. It would have opened a high
road, winter and summer, for the supply of munitions and equipment to
Russia, and a high road for returning ships laden with the harvests
of the Black Earth. It would have severed the German communication
with the Middle East, and rendered our Mesopotamian campaign either
unnecessary or far more speedily fortunate. On the political side,
it would have held Bulgaria steady in neutrality or brought her into
our alliance. It might have saved Serbia without even an effort at
Salonika, and certainly it would have averted all the subsequent
entanglements with Greece. Throughout the whole Balkans, the Allies
would at once have obtained the position which the enemy afterwards
held, and have surrounded the Central Powers with an iron circle
complete at every point except upon the Baltic coast, the frontiers
of Denmark, Holland, and Switzerland, and a strip of the Adriatic.
Under those conditions, it is hardly possible that the war could have
continued after 1916. In a speech made during the summer of the year
before that (after his resignation as First Lord), Mr. Churchill was
justified in saying:
“The struggle will be heavy, the risks numerous, the losses cruel;
but victory, when it comes, will make amends for all. There never was
a great subsidiary operation of war in which a more complete harmony
of strategic, political, and economic advantages has combined, or
which stood in truer relation to the main decision which is in the
central theatre. Through the Narrows of the Dardanelles and across
the ridges of the Gallipoli Peninsula lie some of the shortest paths
to a triumphant peace.”[18]
[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER’S EARLY OBJECTION]
The strategic design, though not above criticism (for many critics
advised leaving the Near East alone, and concentrating all our
force upon the Western front)--the design in itself was brilliant.
All depended upon success, and success depended upon the method of
execution. Like every sane man, professional or lay, Mr. Churchill
favoured a joint naval and military attack. The trouble--the fatal
trouble--was that in January 1915 Lord Kitchener could not spare the
men. He was anxious about home defence, anxious about Egypt (always his
special care), and most anxious not to diminish the fighting strength
in France, where the army was concentrating for an offensive which was
subsequently abandoned, except for the attack at Neuve Chapelle (in
March). He estimated the troops required for a Dardanelles landing at
150,000, and at this time he appears hardly to have considered the
suggested scheme except as a demonstration from which the navy could
easily withdraw.
Mr. Churchill’s object was already far more extensive. Like the rest of
the world, he had marvelled at the power of the German big guns--guns
of unsuspected calibre--in destroying the forts of Liége and Namur.
In his quixotic attempt to save Antwerp (an attempt justly conceived
but revealing the amateur in execution) by stiffening the Belgian
troops with a detachment of British marines and the unorganised and
ill-equipped Royal Naval Division under General Paris, he had himself
witnessed another proof of such power. For he was present in the
doomed city from October 4 to 7, two days before it fell. Misled by
a false analogy between land and sea warfare, he asked himself why
the guns of super-Dreadnoughts like the _Queen Elizabeth_ should not
have a similarly overwhelming effect upon the Turkish forts in the
Dardanelles; especially since, under the new conditions of war, their
fire could be directed and controlled by aeroplane observation, while
the ships themselves remained out of sight upon the sea side of the
Peninsula. It was this argument which ultimately induced Lord Kitchener
to assent, though reluctantly, to a purely naval attempt to force the
Straits, for he admitted that “as to the power of the _Queen Elizabeth_
he had no means of judging.”[19]
But, for the moment, Mr. Churchill contented himself with telegraphing
to Vice-Admiral Carden (January 3):
“Do you think that it is a practicable operation to force the
Dardanelles by the use of ships alone?... The importance of the
results would justify severe loss.”
[Illustration: SERVICE ON BOARD H.M.S. _QUEEN ELIZABETH_, SEEN BETWEEN
HER 15-INCH GUNS]
At the same time he stated that it was assumed that “older battleships”
would be employed, furnished with mine-sweepers, and preceded by
colliers or other merchant vessels as sweepers and bumpers. On
January 5 Carden replied:
“I do not think that the Dardanelles can be rushed, but they might be
forced by extended operations with a large number of ships.”
Next day Mr. Churchill telegraphed: “High authorities here concur in
your opinion.” He further asked for detailed particulars showing what
force would be required for extended operations.[20]
[Sidenote: THE ADMIRALS IN AUTHORITY]
Among the “high authorities,” Carden naturally supposed that one or
more of the naval experts who attended the War Council were included.
These naval experts were, in the first place, Lord Fisher (First
Sea Lord) and Sir Arthur Wilson, Admirals of long and distinguished
service. Both were over seventy years of age, and both were regarded
by the navy and the whole country with the highest respect, though for
distinct and even opposite qualities. Lord Fisher had been exposed
to the criticism merited by all reformers, or bestowed upon them.
Especially it was argued that his insistence upon the Dreadnought type,
by rendering the former fleet obsolete, had given our hostile rival
upon the seas the opportunity of starting a new naval construction on
almost equal terms with our own. But, none the less, Lord Fisher was
recognised as the man to command the fleet by the right of genius, and
his authority at sea was hardly surpassed by Lord Kitchener’s on land.
The causes of the confidence and respect inspired by Sir Arthur Wilson
are sufficiently suggested by his invariable nickname of “Tug.” Both
Admirals were members of the War Staff Group, instituted by Prince
Louis of Battenberg in the previous November,[21] and both attended the
War Council as the principal naval experts. Admiral Sir Henry Jackson
and Vice-Admiral Sir Henry Oliver (Chief of the Staff) were also
present on occasion.
[Sidenote: THEIR DUTY AS ADVISERS]
The expert’s duty in such a position has been much disputed. The
question, in brief, is whether he acts as adviser to his Minister only
(in this case, Mr. Churchill), or to the Council as a whole. Lord
Fisher and Sir Arthur Wilson, supported by Sir James Wolfe Murray,
Chief of the Imperial General Staff under Lord Kitchener (who was
always his own expert), maintained they were right in acting solely
as Mr. Churchill’s advisers. Though they sat at the same table, they
did not consider themselves members of the War Council. It was not
for them to speak, unless spoken to. They were to be seen and not
heard. The object of their presence was to help the First Lord, if
their help was asked, as it never was. In case of disagreement with
their chief, there could be “no altercation.” They must be silent
or resign. Their office doomed them, as they considered, to the old
Persian’s deplorable fate of having many thoughts, but no power.[22]
In this view of their duties, they were strongly supported among the
Dardanelles Commissioners by Mr. Andrew Fisher (representing Australia)
and Sir Thomas Mackenzie (representing New Zealand). Following official
etiquette, they were, it seems, justified in holding themselves bound
by official rules to acquiesce in anything short of certain disaster
rather than serve the country by an undisciplined word.[23]
If this attitude was technically correct, it is the more unfortunate
that the Ministers most directly concerned, as being members of the War
Council, should have taken exactly the opposite view, though masters
of parliamentary technique. In his evidence before the Commission, Mr.
Churchill, the man most closely concerned, protested:
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S OBJECTS]
“Whenever I went to the War Council I always insisted on being
accompanied by the First Sea Lord and Sir Arthur Wilson, and when,
at the War Council, I spoke in the name of the Admiralty, I was not
expressing simply my own views, but I was expressing to the best
of my ability the opinions we had agreed upon at our daily group
meetings; and I was expressing these opinions in the presence of two
naval colleagues and friends who had the right, the knowledge, and
the power at any moment to correct me or dissent from what I said,
and who were fully cognizant of their rights.”[24]
Mr. Asquith said “he should have expected any of the experts there, if
they entertained a strong personal view on their own expert authority,
to express it.”[25] Lord Grey, Lord Haldane, Lord Crewe, Mr. Lloyd
George, and Colonel Maurice Hankey, the very able Secretary to the War
Council, gave similar evidence. Mr. Balfour said: “I do not believe
it is any use having in experts unless you try and get at their inner
thoughts on the technical questions before the Council.”[26] In the
House of Commons, at a later date, Mr. Asquith maintained:
“They (the experts) were there--that was the reason, and the only
reason, for their being there--to give the lay members the benefit
of their advice.... To suppose that these experts were tongue-tied
or paralysed by a nervous regard for the possible opinion of their
political superiors is to suppose that they had really abdicated the
functions which they were intended to discharge.”[27]
These views appear so reasonable that we might suppose them unofficial,
had not the speakers occupied the highest official positions
themselves. The result of this difference of opinion regarding the duty
of expert advisers was disastrous. The War Council assumed the silence
of the experts to imply acquiescence, whereas it sprang from obedience
to etiquette. Before the Commission, Lord Fisher stated that from
the first he was “instinctively against it” (_i.e._ against Admiral
Carden’s plan);[28] that he “was dead against the naval operation
alone because he knew it must be a failure”; and he added, “I must
reiterate that as a purely naval operation I think it was doomed to
failure.”[29] It may be supposed that these statements were prophecies
after the event, and the Commissioners observe that Lord Fisher did not
at the time record any such strongly adverse opinions. Nevertheless,
on the very day when a demonstration was first discussed, he wrote
privately to Mr. Churchill:
“I consider the attack on Turkey holds the field, but only if it
is immediate; however, it won’t be. We shall decide on a futile
bombardment of the Dardanelles, which wears out the invaluable guns
of the _Indefatigable_, which probably will require replacement. What
good resulted from the last bombardment? Did it move a single Turk
from the Caucasus?”[30]
Two days later he sent Mr. Churchill a formal minute, saying that our
policy must not jeopardise our naval superiority, but the advantages
of possessing Constantinople and getting wheat through the Black Sea
were so overwhelming that he considered Colonel Hankey’s plans for
Turkish operations vital and imperative, and very pressing. The object
of these plans (circulated to the War Council on December 28, 1914)
was to strike at Germany through her allies, particularly by weaving
a web around Turkey; and for this purpose Lord Fisher sketched a much
wider policy requiring the co-operation of Roumania, Bulgaria, Greece,
and Serbia.[31] The scheme was not identical with another design of
naval strategy which was already occupying Lord Fisher’s mind, and the
frustration of which by the Dardanelles Expedition ultimately caused
his resignation (in May). But the evidence here quoted shows that Lord
Fisher could not be included among the “high authorities” referred
to by Mr. Churchill as concurring with Admiral Carden’s opinion. Mr.
Churchill said in his evidence that he did not wish to include either
Lord Fisher or Sir Arthur Wilson (who throughout agreed with Lord
Fisher in the main). He was thinking of Admirals Jackson and Oliver.
Yet to Admiral Carden’s mind Lord Fisher would naturally be suggested
as one of the high authorities; and was suggested.[32]
[Sidenote: ADMIRAL JACKSON’S OPINION]
So soon as a demonstration of some sort was decided upon, Mr. Churchill
asked Admiral Jackson to prepare a memorandum, which the Admiral
described as a “Note on forcing the passages of the Dardanelles and
Bosphorus by the Allied fleets in order to destroy the Turko-German
squadron and threaten Constantinople without military co-operation.”
The last three words are important, for it is evident that, though
Admiral Jackson expressed no resolute opposition at the time, he
was strongly opposed to the idea of a merely naval attack. In this
memorandum he pointed out facts which even a layman might have
discerned: that the ships, even if they destroyed the enemy squadron,
would be exposed to torpedo at night, to say nothing of field-guns
and rifles in the Straits, and would hold no line of retreat unless
the shore batteries had been destroyed; that, though they might
dominate the city, their position would not be enviable without a
large military force to occupy it; that the bombardment alone would
not be worth the considerable loss involved; that the city could not
be occupied without troops, and there was a risk of indiscriminate
massacre.[33]
The dangers of an unsupported naval attack were so obvious that Admiral
Jackson can have needed no further authority in urging them. Yet he may
have recalled a memorandum drawn up by the General Staff (December 19,
1906), stating that “military opinion, looking at the question from the
point of view of coast defence, would be in entire agreement with the
naval view that unaided action by the Fleet, bearing in mind the risks
involved, was much to be deprecated.”[34]
Admiral Jackson’s discouraging memorandum of January 5 was not shown
to the War Council. Yet it was of vital importance. In his evidence,
Admiral Jackson insisted that he had always stuck to this memorandum:
“It would be a very mad thing,” he said, “to try and get into the Sea
of Marmora without having the Gallipoli Peninsula held by our own
troops or every gun on both sides of the Straits destroyed. He had
never changed that opinion, and he had never given any one any reason
to think he had.”
Long afterwards, Mr. Churchill suggested that what Admiral Jackson
meant by a mad thing was an attempt to rush the Straits without having
strong landing-parties available, and transports ready to enter when
the batteries were seen to be silent.[35] It is just possible to put
that interpretation on the words, but both they and the memorandum
itself appear naturally to imply a far larger military force than
landing-parties as essential.
On January 11 Vice-Admiral Carden telegraphed a detailed scheme for
gradually forcing the Dardanelles by four successive stages, the
operations to cover about a month. The plan was considered by the
War Staff Group at the Admiralty, and in subsequent evidence all
agreed that they were very dubious, if not hostile. Lord Fisher said
he was instinctively against it. Sir Arthur Wilson said he never
recommended it. Admiral Oliver and Commodore Bartolomé said they were
definitely opposed to a purely naval attempt. But all agreed that the
operations could not lead to disaster, as they might be broken off
at any moment.[36] Admiral Jackson (not a member of the Group) also
drew up a detailed memorandum upon all stages of the plan, “concurring
generally,” and suggesting that the first stage should be approved at
once, as the experience gained might be useful. He insisted in evidence
that he recommended only an attack on the outer forts. He accepted the
policy of a purely naval attack solely on the ground that it was not
for him to decide. His responsibility was limited to his staff work,
which he performed.[37]
[Sidenote: THE WAR COUNCIL’S FIRST DECISION]
The two decisive meetings of the War Council on January 13 and January
28 followed. At the former meeting Mr. Churchill explained the details
of Admiral Carden’s plan, adding that, besides certain older ships,
two new battle-cruisers, one being the _Queen Elizabeth_, could be
employed.[38] He thus revived his Antwerp experience of big-gun power
against fortresses. When the exposition of the whole design was
completed, Lord Kitchener gave it as his opinion that “the plan was
worth trying. We could leave off the bombardment if it did not prove
effective.” In this delusive belief the War Council arrived at the
momentous decision:
“The Admiralty should prepare for a naval expedition in February to
bombard and take the Gallipoli Peninsula, with Constantinople as its
objective.”[39]
Although the word “take” is used, the Council had no intention at
this time of employing a military force. It was assumed that none was
available. The same meeting sanctioned Sir John French’s plan for an
offensive in France (the offensive which degenerated into the attack on
Neuve Chapelle in March). In case of a naval failure, the ships could
be withdrawn; in case of success, there was talk of a revolution in
Constantinople, and upon that hope the Council gambled.[40]
During this meeting Lord Fisher, together with Admiral Wilson and Sir
James Murray, sat dumb as usual, and his silence was as usual taken
for assent. When the Council had arrived at their resolution, he
considered his sole duty was to assist in carrying it out. The very
next day he signed a memorandum from Mr. Churchill strongly advising
that we should devote ourselves to “the methodical forcing of the
Dardanelles,”[41] and he added the two powerful battleships _Lord
Nelson_ and _Agamemnon_ to the fleet allotted for this operation.
But his underlying difference of opinion became steadily stronger.
In evidence, Mr. Churchill said he “could see that Lord Fisher was
increasingly worried about the Dardanelles situation. He reproached
himself for having agreed to begin the operation.... His great wish was
to put a stop to the whole thing.... I knew he wanted to break off the
whole operation and come away.”[42] On January 25 Lord Fisher took the
unusual course of writing to Mr. Asquith and stating his objections.
He considered the Dardanelles would divert from another large plan of
naval policy which he had in mind; further, that it was calculated to
dissipate our naval strength, and to risk the older ships (besides
the invaluable men) which formed our only reserve behind the Grand
Fleet.[43]
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S INSISTENCE]
Mr. Churchill replied in a similar memorandum to the Prime Minister,
defending his Dardanelles plan on the plea of its value, even at a cost
which, after all, would be relatively small. In hope of obtaining some
agreement, Mr. Asquith invited Lord Fisher and Mr. Churchill to his
room just before the meeting of the War Council on January 28--the
second decisive meeting. After discussion, the Prime Minister expressed
his satisfaction with Mr. Churchill’s view, and all three proceeded
to the Council. It was a fairly full meeting, Sir Edward Grey and Mr.
Balfour being present, besides the three dominating members and the
experts. Mr. Churchill pressed his plan with eloquent enthusiasm. “He
was very keen on his own views,” said Sir Arthur Wilson in evidence;
“he kept on saying he could do it without the army; he only wanted
the army to come in and reap the fruits ... and I think he generally
minimised the risks from mobile guns, and treated it as if the armoured
ships were immune altogether from injury.”[44] Mr. Churchill re-stated
the political and strategic advantages of success. He said that the
Grand Duke Nicholas had replied with enthusiasm, and that the French
Admiralty had promised co-operation.[45] He said the Commander-in-Chief
in the Mediterranean believed it could be done in three weeks or a
month. The necessary ships were already on their way.
All the members of the War Council were won by these persuasive
arguments. They needed little persuasion, and no persuasion is so
strong as an enterprise begun. But Lord Fisher for once broke silence.
He said he had not supposed the matter would be raised that day, and
that the Prime Minister was well aware of his views. When he found
that a final decision was to be taken, he got up to leave the room,
intending to resign. But Lord Kitchener intercepted him, and taking him
to the window strongly urged him to remain, pointing out that he was
the only dissentient and it was his duty to carry on the work of his
office as First Sea Lord. Whereupon Lord Fisher reluctantly yielded to
the entreaty and returned to his seat.[46]
It is remarkable that at a meeting of such decisive moment no mention
was made of Lord Fisher’s memorandum, nor of Mr. Churchill’s reply,
nor of their conference with the Prime Minister an hour before. None
the less, not only Mr. Asquith and Mr. Churchill knew of Lord Fisher’s
opposition. Lord Kitchener knew of it; so did Sir Edward Grey. Yet
the opinion of the chief naval authority in England was overruled.
Mr. Asquith subsequently stated that “the whole naval expert opinion
available to us (the War Council), whether our own or the French, was
unanimously and consentiently in favour of this as a practical naval
operation. There was not one dissentient voice.” As to Lord Fisher, he
continued, it was quite true that he expressed on the morning of that
day an adverse, or at least an unfavourable opinion, but not upon the
ground of its merits or demerits from a technical naval point of view:
“Lord Fisher’s opinion and advice were not founded upon the naval
technical merits or demerits of this operation, but upon his avowed
preference for a wholly different objective in a totally different
sphere.”
No doubt Lord Fisher insisted mainly upon that different objective as
being the more important cause of his opposition. But it seems evident
that from the first he was also opposed to a merely naval attack and
bombardment. His letter to Mr. Churchill on January 2 (quoted above)
proves this. And so does the following clause in his memorandum to the
Prime Minister on January 25:
“The sole justification of coastal bombardments and attacks by
the fleet on fortified places, such as the contemplated prolonged
bombardment of the Dardanelles forts by our fleet, is to force a
decision at sea, and so far and no further can they be justified.”[47]
Yet, in this case, there was no suggestion or possibility of forcing a
decision at sea.
[Sidenote: LORD FISHER’S RELUCTANT ASSENT]
In the afternoon of the same day (January 28) Mr. Churchill had
a private interview with Lord Fisher, and “strongly urged him to
undertake the operation.” Lord Fisher definitely consented. Mr.
Churchill says that if he had failed to persuade him, there would
have been no need to altercate, or to resign, or even to argue. He
would have gone back to the War Council and told them they must either
appoint a new Board of Admiralty or abandon the project. “For the First
Sea Lord has to order the fleets to steam and the guns to fire.”[48]
Lord Fisher, on the other hand, insisted in evidence that he had taken
every step, short of resignation, to show his dislike of the proposed
operations; that the chief technical advisers of the Government ought
not to resign because their advice is not accepted, unless they think
the operations proposed must lead to disastrous results; and that the
attempt to force the Dardanelles as a purely naval operation would not
have been disastrous so long as the ships employed could be withdrawn
at any moment, and only such vessels were employed as could be spared
without detriment to the general service of the fleet.[49]
The divergence of opinion here is not so complete as it seems; for by
admitting that the War Council could have appointed a new Board of
Admiralty if Lord Fisher had refused to carry out their decision, Mr.
Churchill showed that, though the First Sea Lord could order the fleets
to steam and the guns to fire, the ultimate control did not lie with
him. The ultimate control lay with the Government (in this case the
War Council), and Lord Fisher was undoubtedly right in thinking his
constitutional duty consisted in carrying out the Council’s decisions
or resigning his office. He did not resign at this time, because he
thought the naval attack did not necessarily imply disaster. He agreed
to undertake the charge. He considered it his duty simply to carry out
the Council’s decision as best he could. With Mr. Churchill he attended
another Council meeting later in the afternoon, and there the fateful,
if not fatal, step was taken. It was decided that an attack should be
made by the fleet alone, with Constantinople as its objective.[50]
Though Lord Fisher agreed to do his best, and though the members of
the War Council accepted the plan with more or less enthusiasm, the
ultimate decision was arrived at owing to Mr. Churchill’s insistence
upon his own brilliant idea, and his resolve to attempt it even without
military aid. The Commissioners remark that in this resolve he was
carried away by his sanguine temperament and his firm belief in the
success of the undertaking which he advocated.[51] They were probably
right. But as evidence of the complexity in all natures--even in a
character apparently so self-confident, impetuous, and sanguine--we may
recall the passage in Mr. Churchill’s speech upon these events, where,
after referring to “the doubts and the misgivings which arise in every
breast when these great hazards of war are decided,” he went on to say:
“No one who has not had to take these decisions can know how serious
and painful are the stresses which search every man’s heart when
he knows that an order is going to be given as a result of which
great ships may be lost, great interests may be permanently ruined,
and hundreds or even thousands of men may be sent to their last
account.”[52]
[Sidenote: A NAVAL EXPEDITION DECREED]
If ever the heart of man was searched by serious and painful stress,
it may well have been in that Council chamber of January 28, 1915.
For then a decision was taken, and an order given, as a result of
which great ships were lost, great interests permanently ruined, and
thousands of men sent to their last account.
CHAPTER III
THE NAVAL ATTACKS
At the War Council meetings of January 28 a demonstration extending to
the possible capture of Constantinople was thus decided upon, and the
demonstration was to be purely naval. All the members of the Council
would have agreed that a joint naval and military (or “amphibious”)
attack would have made success surer; but Lord Kitchener declared the
necessary troops could not be supplied, and his decision was accepted
without question. The evidence shows that when first Admiral Carden
was commanded to attack, no hint of military support was given him.
He was expected to depend entirely upon small landing-parties of his
own marines to demolish the forts.[53] Mr. Churchill has himself told
us that, if an amphibious attack had then been thought essential or
seriously contemplated, nothing at all would have been done. Nothing
less than 100,000 or 150,000 men could have been asked for, together
with large supplies of high explosives and artillery. Whereupon, “all
the military experts” (_i.e._ Lord Kitchener, with the possible
addition of Lord French) “unanimously would have said that the men
were not available, and the ammunition could not be spared from the
French front.”[54] Whether it would not have been well, even at this
last moment, to abandon the whole scheme rather than act contrary to
the best judgment of experts and laymen alike, has now, unfortunately,
become a matter of vain speculation.
[Sidenote: HESITATION RENEWED]
Hardly had the naval orders been given, and the ships dispatched,
when the Council began to waver. It is impossible to fix a day for
this change, for the change itself wavered. In his evidence, General
Callwell (the D.M.O.) said: “We drifted into the big military
attack”;[55] and “drift” is the precise word for the Council’s
uncertain course. By the middle of February the feeling had evidently
set towards an amphibious movement; but up to the middle of March
they hoped that the need of landing troops upon a large scale might
be avoided by purely naval success. It appears that early in February
Lord Kitchener began to yield. Probably his former decision was shaken
by the abandonment of a large-scale offensive in France, and by the
failure of the Turkish attack upon the Suez Canal (February 3 and 4).
Though the Turkish force was allowed to retreat without the destruction
which greater energy in the Egyptian Command might have brought upon
it, the troops then in Egypt had proved more than sufficient for
defence; and Egypt, as we have noticed, was always Lord Kitchener’s
peculiar care. On February 9 he remarked in the War Council that “if
the Navy required the assistance of the land forces at a later stage,
that assistance would be forthcoming.”
[Sidenote: THE 29TH DIVISION DETAINED]
But, by the majority of the Council, the claim for assistance was not
postponed to a later stage. On February 15 Sir Henry Jackson sent a
long memorandum of “suggestions” to Admiral Carden in regard to the
approaching naval attack. Not only did this memorandum speak of strong
military landing-parties with strong covering forces as necessary, but
it added that “full advantage of the undertaking would only be obtained
by the occupation of the Peninsula by a military force acting in
conjunction with the naval operations.” The very next day (February 16)
the War Council decided to send the 29th Division (hitherto destined
for France) at the earliest possible date to Lemnos; to arrange for a
force from Egypt, if required; and to order the Admiralty to prepare
transport for the conveyance and landing of 50,000 men.[56] The navy
and army were thus at last committed to an amphibious enterprise; but
nineteen days had been lost. What was worse: the 29th Division was to
have started on February 22, but on the 20th Lord Kitchener, on his own
initiative, without consulting the First Lord or the Admirals, told
the Director of Naval Transport to stop the preparation of transport,
as the Division was not to go. In spite of Mr. Churchill’s vehement
protests (for even his confidence in a purely naval attack was now
shaking), Lord Kitchener stood by his decision till March 10, and the
Division did not begin to start till March 16. Twenty-two more days
lost! Add the nineteen of the Council’s hesitation, and forty-one days
were lost in all. Forty-one days in an enterprise which depended upon
speed and secrecy!
Undoubtedly Lord Kitchener had sufficient reason for delay. The Russian
armies were hard pressed on their right or northern flank, and in
the centre Hindenburg was pushing his third attempt upon Warsaw. If
the Germans were successful at either point, it was probable that
they would transfer large forces to their Western front, with which
the French were then heavily engaged in Champagne and between the
Moselle and Meuse, while the British were preparing and executing the
assault at Neuve Chapelle (March 10 to 14).[57] There may have been
other reasons, but those were enough to justify caution in allowing
a splendid Regular Division like the 29th to be diverted from the
critical strategic lines in France. Its retention, without due notice
to the War Council, was sudden and arbitrary. That was Lord Kitchener’s
way, and no more could be said. Perhaps the Division should not
have been offered, and the Secretary for War, who also held supreme
military command, could not be blamed for retaining it under his hand.
Nevertheless, its retention stands high among the causes of ultimate
disaster.
By the middle of February the War Council had tacitly abandoned the
idea of a mere demonstration from which the ships could be at any
moment withdrawn. But both Lord Kitchener and Mr. Churchill still
thought that troops, if used at all, would be wanted only for “minor
operations,” such as the final destruction of batteries, and both clung
to this idea for about four weeks longer. Yet, in the first week of
March, General Birdwood, who had been sent from Egypt to report upon
this very question, telegraphed to Lord Kitchener that he was doubtful
if the navy could force a passage unassisted, and that Admiral Carden’s
forecast was too sanguine.[58]
[Sidenote: THE DARDANELLES]
By that time General Birdwood had definite experience to guide him;
for, in obedience to Mr. Churchill’s orders, Admiral Carden had on
February 19 begun to execute his detailed plan for forcing the Straits
by naval power alone. The scene of our narrative accordingly shifts
from the Council Chambers of Whitehall to that famous channel which,
like a broad, deep river, divides the European from the Asiatic
coast. Celebrated beyond all other waters of the world by legend and
history, and by one of mankind’s noblest poems, it is haunted by almost
overwhelming memories, to which the great tragedy here described has
added new. At the very entrance, where the passage is three miles
broad, you see upon your right hand the flat and gently curving beach
upon which Agamemnon tied his ships for the prolonged siege of a low
hill, formed even in his time of ruined and piled-up cities. It rises,
still quite visible from the opposite shore, above the marshes where
Simois and Scamander unite their small and immortal streams.
[Illustration:
_Vandyk_]
GENERAL SIR WILLIAM BIRDWOOD]
Steering north-east, a vessel beats up against the swirling eddies
of a tideless current, always pouring down against her bows, with a
force that varies from three knots to four, and even to five in the
centre when the wind drives it on. Sailors have told me that they
believe an undercurrent passes the water back; else, they think,
it could not perpetually run so strong. What was the experience of
submarine officers like Lieutenant Holbrook, who, on December 13, 1914,
groped his way below the surface and through the mines till he emerged
near the entrance to the Sea of Marmora, and destroyed the Turkish
warship _Messoudieh_, I do not know. But it seems probable that enough
water is poured into the Black Sea by the Dnieper, Dniester, and Don,
rivers of the Steppes, to account for a rapid current, not to speak of
the glacier streams issuing from the snows of the Caucasus beyond the
magic Phasis. All the more likely is the current to be swift since the
waters from the shores of Azoff, the Euxine, and Marmora are discharged
down a constricted funnel, which at the narrowest point, between Chanak
and Kilid Bahr, is hardly more than three-quarters of a mile across.
At Chanak, as a ship makes its way against the stream, the strait
turns north from north-east for about four miles, and at the point of
Nagara (the old Abydos) the channel becomes again almost as narrow as
at Chanak. That part of the strait between Chanak and Nagara (both on
the Asiatic side) is called especially “The Narrows,” and it forms, as
it were, “The Gut” of the whole salt river. Here Xerxes stretched his
bridge of boats, having chained and flogged the turbulent waters. Here
Alexander crossed upon his way to India. Seven hundred years later
the Goths crossed here, and the Turks here entered Europe, a century
before they stormed the city of Constantine, which still retained the
traditions of the classic world. Beyond the Narrows the strait runs
north-east again with a channel about two miles broad for some twenty
miles, until between Gallipoli and Chardak it begins to widen gradually
into the Sea of Marmora. The total length of the strait from Cape
Helles to Gallipoli is between thirty-five and forty miles. The Asiatic
side is the coast of the ancient Troad, rising to high hills when the
plain of Troy is passed. On the European side the long promontory or
peninsula of Gallipoli precludes the channel from issuing into the Gulf
of Xeros at the neck of Bulair, or lower down into the Ægean Sea. It
is the south-western third of that peninsula which is the scene of the
present tragic episode in history. There is no railway on either side
of the strait. A coast road is marked from Kum Kali (at the entrance on
the Asiatic side) up to Chanak; but it is probably of the usual Turkish
quality, as were all roads upon the peninsula. Along both coasts the
inhabitants in peace-time communicate chiefly by water, in spite of the
current.
[Sidenote: THE ISLAND OF LEMNOS]
The small island of Tenedos lies about fifteen miles south-west from
Kum Kali, and the domed hill at the farther end of the island stands
up like a large haycock, visible not only from the Trojan plain, but
from all the surrounding seas and islands. The town is a pleasant and
well-built place, serviceable to the French for the purchase of extra
luxuries in the months following; and as Turkey had refused to yield
the island to Greece at the end of the Balkan Wars of 1912–1913, it
had been seized by the Allies as a station for watching the mouth of
the strait. From epic times, however, it was known as an untrustworthy
anchorage, and for a naval base the Allies occupied the great harbour
of Mudros upon the island of Lemnos, sixty miles from the scene of
action. The greater part of this island is bare of trees, and barren
but for patches of cultivation around the scattered villages. In
summer the low hills are scorched to a pale brown, and, for an Ægean
island, the country possesses little beauty or interest apart from the
hot springs for which it was consecrated to the god of fire.[59] But
into the centre of the southern coast runs a deep and broad inlet,
protected at its entrance by two small islands, and affording space and
anchorage enough for a vast navy. Its size is indeed excessive; for
when the wind sweeps down from the north-east across the dismal and
dusty town of Mudros, it can raise such a storm in the harbour that
pinnaces and smaller boats have trouble in lying alongside the ships,
and in loading up or unloading. There are, of course, no docks or
wharves, though our sailors subsequently constructed a few small piers
and landing-stages. All supplies, including most of the water, had to
be brought from the remote base at Alexandria; but the harbour became,
none the less, invaluable as a secure port for our navy and transports,
a forwarding station for supply and ammunition, the headquarters of the
Communication and Transport departments, and an advanced hospital base.
The use of it was granted by the Greek Government under Venizelos;
for the island had fallen into Greek possession in consequence of the
Balkan Wars; and King Constantine appears to have acquiesced graciously
in a concession which could not be refused.
[Sidenote: SHIPS OF THE FLEET]
In this vast harbour, and upon the open roadstead of Tenedos, Admiral
Carden had gathered a large fleet by the middle of February. Ships
were collected from various parts of the world (the _Triumph_ had
lately come from China);[60] but Gibraltar, Malta, and Egypt supplied
most of them. At Lord Fisher’s own suggestion the super-Dreadnought
_Queen Elizabeth_ had been added to the pre-Dreadnought ships upon
which Mr. Churchill had originally depended. The _Inflexible_ was
also a “Dreadnought” battle-cruiser (she had shared in the Falkland
Islands battle of December 8, 1914), and the sister ships _Agamemnon_
and _Lord Nelson_, which Lord Fisher also added a little later than
the rest of the fleet, were generally regarded as fit to fight in
line with “Dreadnoughts.” The French Admiralty, at our request, also
supplied a few ships, though of old types, which have an overhampered
and top-heavy appearance. The most important units in the fleet as
concentrated at that time may be tabulated thus:
BRITISH.
+------------------+----------+--------+--------------------------+
| |Completed.| Tons. | Guns. |
+------------------+----------+--------+--------------------------+
|_Queen Elizabeth_ | 1915 | 27,500 | 8 15-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Inflexible_ | 1908 | 17,250 | 8 12-in. | 16 4-in. |
|_Agamemnon_ | 1908 | 16,500 | 4 12-in. | 10 9·2-in. |
|_Lord Nelson_ | 1908 | 16,500 | 4 12-in. | 10 9·2-in. |
|_Irresistible_ | 1901 | 15,000 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Majestic_ | 1895 | 14,900 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Prince George_ | 1896 | 14,900 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Cornwallis_ | 1904 | 14,900 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Vengeance_ | 1901 | 12,950 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Albion_ | 1902 | 12,950 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Ocean_ | 1900 | 12,950 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Canopus_ | 1899 | 12,950 | 4 12-in. | 12 6-in. |
|_Triumph_ | 1904 | 11,800 | 4 10-in. | 14 7·5-in. |
|_Swiftsure_ | 1904 | 11,800 | 4 10-in. | 14 7·5-in. |
| |
| FRENCH. |
| |
|_Suffren_ | 1903 | 12,520 | 4 12-in. | 10 6·4-in. |
|_Bouvet_ | 1898 | 12,007 | 2 12-in. | {2 10·8-in. |
| | | | | {8 5·5-in. |
|_Gaulois_ | 1899 | 11,080 | 4 12-in. | 10 5·5-in. |
|_Charlemagne_ | 1898 | 11,000 | 4 12-in. | 10 5·5-in.[61]|
+-----------------------------------------------------------------+
To these main fighting ships were added four light cruisers (the
_Amethyst_, _Sapphire_, _Dublin_, and _Doris_), two destroyer
depôts, sixteen destroyers, six submarines, twenty-one mine-sweeping
trawlers, and a seaplane ship (the _Ark Royal_) accommodating six
seaplanes; besides from the French navy six torpedo-boats and fourteen
mine-sweepers.
Out of this fleet, Admiral Carden selected the British ships
_Inflexible_, _Agamemnon_, _Cornwallis_, _Triumph_, and _Vengeance_,
together with the French ships (under Admiral Guépratte) _Suffren_,
_Bouvet_, and _Gaulois_, covered by a large number of destroyers, for
the first attack upon the outer forts. Orders for washing and clean
clothes (to avoid septic wounds) were issued on February 18, and next
morning, in clear and calm weather, “General Quarters” was sounded.
The firing began at eight, and the first scene in the drama of the
Dardanelles Expedition was enacted.[62]
The main forts to be destroyed were four in number; two on either side
the entrance. One stood on the cliff of Cape Helles, just to the left
or south-west of the shelving amphitheatre afterwards celebrated as V
Beach. Another lay low down, on the right of the same beach, close in
front of the medieval castle of Seddel Bahr, where still one sees lying
in heaps or scattered over the ground huge cannon-balls of stone, such
as were hurled at Duckworth’s fleet more than a century before. Upon
the Asiatic side stood the fort of Kum Kali, at the very mouth of the
strait, not far from the cliff village of Yenishehr, and separated from
the plain of Troy by the river Mendere, near neighbour to the Simois
and Scamander conjoined. About a mile down the coast, close beside
Yenishehr village, is the remaining fort of Orkhanieh. None of these
forts was heavily armed. The largest guns appear to have been 10·2 inch
(six on Seddel Bahr, and four on Kum Kali), and when our squadron drew
their fire, as before narrated, on November 3, 1914, their extreme
range was found to be 12,500 yards.
[Sidenote: FIRST NAVAL ACTION]
Throughout the morning Admiral Carden concentrated his bombardment upon
these forts at long range, and they made no reply. Hoping that he had
silenced or utterly destroyed them, he advanced six ships to closer
range in the afternoon, and then the reply came in earnest, though the
shooting was poor. At sunset he withdrew the ships, though Kum Kali was
still firing. In evidence, he admitted that “the result of the day’s
action showed apparently that the effect of long range bombardment by
direct fire on modern earthwork forts is slight.”[63] It was a lesson
repeated time after time throughout the campaign. The big naval shells
threw up stones and earth as from volcanoes, and caused great alarm.
But the alarm was temporary, and the effect, whether on earthworks or
trenches, usually disappointing. For naval guns, constructed to strike
visible objects at long range with marvellous accuracy, have too flat
a trajectory for the plunging fire (as of howitzers) which devastates
earthworks and trenches. It was with heavy howitzers that the Germans
destroyed the forts of Liége, Namur, and Antwerp, and, owing to this
obvious difference in the weapons employed, Mr. Churchill’s expectation
of crushing the Dardanelles defences by the big guns of the _Queen
Elizabeth_ and the _Inflexible_ was frustrated.[64]
Nevertheless, after a few days of driving rain and heavy sea (a common
event at this season, which might have been anticipated), Admiral
Carden renewed the bombardment on February 25, employing the _Queen
Elizabeth_, _Irresistible_, _Agamemnon_, and _Gaulois_. The _Queen
Elizabeth_, firing beyond the enemy’s range, assisted in silencing
the powerful batteries on Cape Helles, and though the _Agamemnon_
was severely struck at about 11,000 yards range, the subsidiary
ships _Cornwallis_, _Vengeance_, _Triumph_, _Albion_, _Suffren_, and
_Charlemagne_ stood in closer, and by the evening compelled all the
outer forts to cease fire. Next day landing-parties of marines were
put ashore to complete their destruction; which they did, though at
Kum Kali they were driven back to their boats with some loss. The
story that marines had tea at Krithia and climbed Achi Baba for the
view--places soon to acquire such ill-omened fame--is mythical. But
certainly they met with no opposition on the Peninsula, and if a large
military force had then been available, the gallant but appalling
events of the landing two months later would never have occurred. Had
not the War Council persisted in the design of a solely naval attack,
even after their resolve had begun to waver, a large military force
might have been available, either then, or to co-operate with a similar
naval movement only a week or two later.
[Sidenote: SUBSEQUENT NAVAL ACTIONS]
Stormy weather delayed further attack till March 4, when a squadron,
including the _Triumph_, _Albion_, _Lord Nelson_, and _Ocean_, passed
up the strait to a position beyond the village of Erenkeui, conspicuous
upon a mountain-side of the Asiatic coast, and bombarded Fort Dardanus.
The fort stands upon Kephez Point, which projects as though to defend
the very entrance of the Narrows. Over the top of the promontory the
houses and mosques of Chanak and Kilid Bahr could be plainly seen,
where those towns face each other across the narrowest part of the
passage. Of the eight lines of mine-field drawn across the strait, five
lay between Kephez Point and Chanak. Day and night our mine-sweeping
trawlers were engaged upon them, and considerable praise must be given
to the courage and endurance of their crews, who for the most part
had been North Sea fishermen before the expedition. Their service
throughout, whether for mine-sweeping or transport, was of very high
value. It almost justified the remark made to me by a skipper whom I
had met before on the Dogger Bank: “If the Kayser had knowed as we’d
got trawlers, he would never have declared war!”
A similar advance to engage the forts at Dardanus, and, after those
were thought to be silenced, the forts at Chanak and Kilid Bahr, was
made next day, and again, in stronger force, on March 6.[65] The
_Prince George_, _Albion_, _Vengeance_, _Majestic_, and _Suffren_ were
employed, and suffered damage, though without loss of life. At the
same time, on the 6th, the _Queen Elizabeth_, stationed off Gaba Tepe
on the outer coast, flung her vast shells clear over the Peninsula
into the Chanak forts, her fire being directed by aeroplanes. She was
supported by the _Agamemnon_ and _Ocean_, and there were high hopes
of thus crushing out the big guns defending the Narrows, some of
which were believed to be 14-inch. Nevertheless, when the four French
battleships advanced up the strait on the following day (March 7),
supported at long range by the _Agamemnon_ and her sister ship _Lord
Nelson_, the Chanak forts replied with an effective and damaging
fire. It was impossible to say when a fort was really out of action.
After long silence, the Turkish and German gunners frequently returned
and reopened fire, as though nothing had happened. In his evidence,
Admiral Carden stated that when the demolition parties landed after the
bombardment of the outer forts, they found 70 per cent. of the guns
apparently intact upon their mountings, although their magazines were
blown up and their electrical or other communications destroyed.[66]
Still worse than these disappointing results was the opportunity left
to the enemy of moving, not only bodies of men, but field-guns and
heavy howitzers from one point of the Peninsula and Asiatic coast to
another, and opening fire upon the ships from concealed and unexpected
positions. Our landing-parties of marines also suffered considerably
from the advantage thus given to the enemy, as happened to a body which
landed at Kum Kali for the second time on March 4. All such dangers and
hindrances would have been removed if the navy had been supported by
sufficient military force to occupy the ground behind the ships as they
advanced.
[Sidenote: EFFECT ON BALKAN STATES]
A bombardment of the Smyrna forts farther down the coast of Asia was
carried out on March 5 and 7 by a detachment under Vice-Admiral Peirse.
It was hoped that the Vali of Smyrna might come over to us, and that
in any case the attack would detain a Turkish force there by means of
a rather obvious feint.[67] Nothing of vital importance was as yet
accomplished there or in the Straits, but up to about March 10 the
Admiralty at home remained sanguine, in spite of General Birdwood’s
rather discouraging telegram of March 5, mentioned above. They had a
right to consider that the attack upon the Dardanelles had produced a
stirring effect in the Near East. The Turks withdrew large forces from
the Caucasus, greatly easing the situation for the Russian Grand Duke.
They concentrated more troops round Adrianople, fearing that Bulgaria
might clutch this opportunity for retrieving her loss of that city in
1913. Bitter as was the Bulgarian hatred of Serbia and Greece for their
reversal of the Balkan League policy in that year, and for their breach
of treaties and territorial arrangements, it now seemed certain that
if Bulgaria departed from neutrality at all, she would stand among our
Allies. Only a few days later (March 17) General Paget, then engaged on
a special mission to the Balkans, telegraphed to Lord Kitchener:
“The operations in the Dardanelles have made a deep impression;
all possibility of Bulgaria attacking any Balkan State that might
side with the _Entente_ is now over, and there is some reason to
think that shortly the Bulgarian army will move against Turkey to
co-operate in the Dardanelles operations.”[68]
That was a high hope, for the attitude of Bulgaria was then, as it
became still more definitely later on, the key of the Near Eastern
situation. But for the moment, the effect upon Greece appeared even
more propitious. M. Venizelos had in the previous month refused to
allow Greece to be drawn into a war for the defence of Serbia, though
England and France promised a Division each at Salonika, and it was
believed that this strategy was specially favoured by Mr. Lloyd
George. Now, however (March 1), he voluntarily offered our Minister in
Athens three Greek Divisions for Gallipoli on condition that Greece
received the vilayet of Smyrna; and next day our Minister telegraphed
that the King had been sounded and “wanted war.”[69] The proposal
was abruptly checked by the jealousy of the Tsar’s Government, which
refused to allow a Greek soldier to approach the long-desired prize of
Constantinople. But to make Constantine “want war” must have required a
miraculous interposition, and the effect of three Divisions--even Greek
Divisions--landing upon the Peninsula at that moment might have been
more miraculous still.[70] Of even greater ultimate importance was the
influence upon Italy; for it was now that, under the guidance of Baron
Sonnino, and the strong encouragement of Mr. Asquith, she entered upon
the devious negotiations which led to her declaration of war against
Austria on May 23.
But valuable as were these political results, the naval attack itself
was going slow, and Mr. Churchill read the daily telegrams with
increasing impatience. The fact was that the enemy, having the free
run of the Peninsula as well as of the Asiatic coast, could plant and
conceal his movable howitzers and other armaments where he pleased, and
it was becoming increasingly evident that, unless the Peninsula was
occupied by our military forces, the passage of the Narrows would mean
extreme risk for our ships, and, even if they got through, the channel
would not be cleared for transports following them. Now was the moment
when a permanent landing would be of the highest service, and on March
10 Mr. Churchill evidently realised the need of troops acutely. But it
was only on that very day that Lord Kitchener finally decided to allow
the 29th Division to start from England, and they did not leave port
till the 16th. Regarding the other detailed troops as less trained and
experienced than they really were, Lord Kitchener refused to allow a
landing till the Regular Division arrived. And, indeed, he still clung
to the idea that no landing would be necessary.
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL URGES GREATER VIGOUR]
Accordingly, Mr. Churchill, though striving to restrain his impatience,
strongly urged Admiral Carden to press forward the naval attack with
the utmost vigour. In a telegram of March 11 he wrote:
“If success cannot be obtained without loss of ships and men, results
to be gained are important enough to justify such a loss. The whole
operation may be decided, and consequences of a decisive character
upon the war may be produced by the turning of the corner Chanak....
We have no wish to hurry you or urge you beyond your judgment, but
we recognise clearly that at a certain period in your operations
you will have to press hard for a decision; and we desire to know
whether, in your opinion, that period has now arrived. Every
well-conceived action for forcing a decision, even should regrettable
losses be entailed, will receive our support.”
To this Admiral Carden replied that he considered the stage for
vigorous action had now been reached, but that, when the fleet entered
the Sea of Marmora, military operations on a large scale should be
opened at once, so as to secure communications. On March 15 Mr.
Churchill, still anxious not to allow his impatience to drive him into
rashness, telegraphed again that, though no time was to be lost, there
should be no undue haste. An attempt to rush the passage without having
cleared a channel through the mines and destroyed the primary armament
of the forts was not contemplated. The close co-operation of army and
navy must be carefully studied, and it might be found that a naval rush
would be costly without military occupation of the Kilid Bahr plateau.
On these points the Admiral was to consult with the General who was
being sent out to take command of the troops. To all of this Admiral
Carden agreed. He proposed to begin vigorous operations on March 17,
but did not intend to rush the passage before a channel was cleared.
This answer was telegraphed on March 16. But on the same day the
Admiral resigned his command owing to serious ill-health.[71]
[Sidenote: DE ROBECK SUCCEEDS CARDEN]
Rear-Admiral Sir John de Robeck, second in command, was next day
appointed his successor. He was five years younger, was, of course,
fully cognizant of the plans, and expressed his entire approval of
them. Yet it appears from his evidence that though strongly urged by
Mr. Churchill to act on “his independent and separate judgment,” and
not to hesitate to state objections, his real motive in carrying on
the pre-arranged scheme was not so much his confidence in success as
his fear lest a withdrawal might injure our prestige in the Near East;
and, secondly, his desire to make the best he could of an idea which he
regarded as an order. “The order was to carry out a certain operation,”
he said, “or try to do it, and we had to do the best we could.” If the
ships got through, he, like many others, expected a revolution or other
political change in Turkey. Otherwise, he saw that transports could
not come up, and that the ships could not remain in the Sea of Marmora
for more than a fortnight or three weeks, but would have to run the
gauntlet coming down again, just as Admiral Duckworth did in 1807.[72]
In his telegram accepting the command, however, he made no mention of
these considerations, but only said that success depended upon clearing
the mine-fields after silencing the forts.
Indeed, he had small time for any considerations. For on the very
first day after receiving his command (March 18) he undertook the main
attempt to force the Narrows. The weather was favourable--no mist and
little wind. The scheme was to attack in three squadrons successively.
The first blow was given by the four most powerful ships--_Queen
Elizabeth_, _Inflexible_, _Lord Nelson_, and _Agamemnon_--which poured
heavy shell at long range into the forts at Chanak and Kilid Bahr,
while the _Triumph_ and _Prince George_ bombarded Fort Dardanus on the
Asiatic coast, and Fort Soghandere, opposite to it upon the Peninsula.
This bombardment lasted from about 11 a.m. till 12.30 p.m., and all
six ships found themselves exposed to heavy fire from the forts, and
from hidden howitzers and field-guns in varied positions upon both
shores. At about 12.30 the second squadron, consisting of the four
French ships, came up into action, advancing beyond the former line in
the direction of Kephez Point. Though suffering considerably (chiefly
owing to their inability to manœuvre in such narrow waters, thus
presenting very visible and almost fixed targets to the enemy’s guns),
the ten ships maintained the bombardment for about an hour (till nearly
1.30). The enemy’s forts then fell silent, and it was hoped that many
of them, at all events, had been destroyed.
[Sidenote: THE MAIN NAVAL ACTION]
Accordingly, the third squadron, consisting of six British ships
(_Irresistible_, _Vengeance_, _Ocean_, _Swiftsure_, _Majestic_, and
_Albion_), were brought up, with the design of advancing first through
the Narrows, so as to ensure a clear passage for the greater ships
which made the first attack. At the same time the four French ships,
together with the _Triumph_ and _Prince George_, were ordered to
withdraw, so as to leave more room for the rest. During this manœuvre,
all or nearly all the guns in the forts opened fire again, their
silence having been due, not to destruction, but to the absence of
the gunners, driven away by the gases or terror of our shells. Most
of the ships suffered, and as the _Bouvet_ moved down channel with
her companion ships, she was struck by three big shells in quick
succession. The blows were immediately followed by a vast explosion. It
is disputed whether this was due to a shell bursting in her magazine,
or to a torpedo fired from the Asiatic coast, or, as the Admiralty
report said, to a mine drifting down the current. In two or three
minutes she sank in deep water just north of Erenkeui, carrying nearly
the whole of her crew to the bottom. The cries of the men dragged down
with her, or struggling in the water as they were swept downstream,
sounded over the strait.
At 2.30 the bombardment of all the forts was renewed, but they were
not silenced. At 4 o’clock the _Irresistible_ drew away with a heavy
list. Apparently she also was struck by a mine adrift; but she remained
afloat for nearly two hours, and nearly all her crew were saved by
destroyers, which swarmed round her at great risk to themselves,
since they offered a crowded target. A quarter of an hour after she
sank, the _Ocean_ was struck in a similar manner (6.5 p.m.) and sank
with great rapidity. Most of her crew, however, were also saved by
destroyers near at hand. Many of the other ships were struck by shell.
The _Inflexible_ and _Gaulois_ suffered especially, and only just
crawled back to be beached, the one at Tenedos, the other at Rabbit
Island. At sunset the fleet was withdrawn. It had been proved once more
that, in an attack upon land forts, ships lie at a great disadvantage.
In this case the disadvantage was much increased by the narrowness of
the waters, which brought the ships within range of howitzer and other
batteries hidden upon both shores, and also gave special opportunity
for the use of mines drifting on the rapid current, or anchored right
across the channel in successive rows. The mines of the second row
were opposite the intervals in the first, and so on, until the passage
was covered as with a net, each row containing twenty-six mines.
Whether shore-torpedoes were also used is still uncertain. But, without
them, the fleet suffered under sufficient disadvantages to explain
the failure. The first serious attempt to force the Straits was the
last.[73]
Mr. Churchill wished to renew the attempt at once. Perhaps he thought
that English people are given to exaggerate the loss of a battleship.
After all, the loss of even three battleships is far surpassed by the
loss of lives and calculable wealth in one day’s ordinary fighting in
France, and the objective in the Dardanelles was at least as vital.[74]
Lord Fisher and Sir Arthur Wilson agreed that the action should be
continued, and the _London_ and _Prince of Wales_, in addition to the
_Queen_ and _Implacable_, were actually sent to reinforce. The French
also sent an old battleship (the _Henri IV._) to replace the _Bouvet_.
At first Admiral de Robeck shared this view. It was suspected at the
Admiralty that the ammunition in the forts was running short, and, at a
much later date, Enver Pasha is reported to have said:
“If the English had only had the courage to rush more ships through
the Dardanelles, they could have got to Constantinople; but their
delay enabled us thoroughly to fortify the Peninsula, and in six
weeks’ time we had taken down there over 200 Austrian Skoda guns.”[75]
[Sidenote: PURELY NAVAL ACTION ABANDONED]
That delay of six weeks was fatal, but the navy was not to blame. On
March 22 Admiral de Robeck and Admiral Wemyss consulted with Sir Ian
Hamilton (who on the very day before the engagement had arrived at
Tenedos to take command of the land forces) and with General Birdwood;
and as their decision to await the concentration of the army was
accepted by Lord Fisher and the other Admiralty advisers, Mr. Churchill
reluctantly yielded. General Birdwood, it is true, wished to land at
once, even with such troops as were at hand. Sir Ian “thought there
was a good deal to be said for it,” and as to the fleet, he urged
the Admiral to keep on hammering the forts. But his orders from Lord
Kitchener were “not to land if he could avoid it,” and in any case to
await the arrival of the 29th Division.[76]
And where was the 29th Division? On March 23 its first transport was
just reaching Malta, where nearly all the officers attended a special
performance of _Faust_.[77]
CHAPTER IV
THE PREPARATION
[Sidenote: SIR IAN’S APPOINTMENT]
As was mentioned, Sir Ian Hamilton reached Tenedos on March 17, the day
before the naval engagement. The appointment to command the military
forces had come to him unexpectedly but five days earlier, and on
March 13 he started from London. He had received only slight and vague
instructions from Lord Kitchener, but on certain limitations the
Secretary for War insisted, and all of them strongly influenced Sir
Ian’s subsequent action. If possible a landing was to be avoided; none
was to be attempted until the fleet had made every effort to penetrate
the Straits and had failed; if a landing became unavoidable, none
should be made until the full force available had assembled; and no
adventurous operations were to be undertaken on the Asiatic side. All
these instructions were followed.[78]
But they revealed the hesitating reluctance with which the Dardanelles
campaign was regarded, not only by Lord Kitchener himself, but by his
subordinate generals at home and in France. The “Westerners” were,
naturally, in the ascendant. The danger to the Allied cause lay close
at hand. It had only recently been averted from the Channel and from
Paris. The British Staff, equally with the French, represented that not
a man could be spared from France, and that the only assured road to
victory lay straight through the German lines. The opposition to any
“side-show,” especially if it diverted a Regular Division such as the
29th, was expressed with the emphasis of jealous alarm.
[Sidenote: SIR IAN’S QUALIFICATIONS]
Even the appointment of Sir Ian Hamilton to the distant enterprise was
likely to be received with mingled sentiments. He counted forty-two
years of service in the army. Since the days of the Afghan War and
Majuba Hill (where his left hand was shattered), he had risen step by
step to all but the highest commands. The Nile, Burma, Chitral, and
Tirah had known him. He commanded the infantry in the rapid but vital
engagement at Elandslaagte, and during the siege of Ladysmith had
charge of the extensive and dangerous sector known as Cæsar’s Camp and
Wagon Hill. In the final months of the Boer War he was Lord Kitchener’s
Chief of Staff, and commanded mobile columns in the Western Transvaal,
greatly contributing to the conclusion of the war. Since then he had
served at home as Quartermaster-General, as G.O.C.-in-Chief of the
Southern Command, and as Adjutant-General. Abroad he had served as
Military Representative of India with the Japanese army in Manchuria
(1904–1905, when, in _A Staff Officer’s Scrap-Book_, he foretold the
disappearance of cavalry and the prevalence of the trench in future
warfare), as General Officer-Commanding-in-Chief in the Mediterranean,
and Inspector-General of the Overseas Forces (1910–1915). Except that
he had never yet held supreme command in any considerable campaign,
his experience in military affairs and in almost every phase of our
army’s activity was hardly to be surpassed.
On the other hand, he was sixty-two; and, though he was a year younger
than Lord French, and retained a slim and active figure such as enabled
Lord Roberts to take command in South Africa at seventy, sixty-two
was regarded as a full age for any officer in so difficult a campaign
upon a desert promontory. From a mingled Highland and Irish descent
he had inherited the so-called Celtic qualities which are regarded by
thorough Englishmen with varying admiration and dislike. His blood
gave him so conspicuous a physical courage that, after the battles of
Cæsar’s Camp and Diamond Hill, the present writer, who knew him there,
regarded him as an example of the rare type which not merely conceals
fear with success, but does not feel it. Undoubtedly he was deeply
tinged with the “Celtic charm”--that glamour of mind and courtesy of
behaviour which create suspicion among people endowed with neither.
Through his nature ran a strain of the idealistic spirit which some
despise as quixotic, and others salute as chivalrous, while, with
cautious solicitude, they avoid it in themselves. It was known also
that Sir Ian was susceptible to the influence of beauty in other forms
than those usually conceded to military men. He was an acknowledged
master of English prose, and though our people read more in quantity
than any other nation, the literary gift is regarded among us as a sign
of incapacity, and is not, as in France and ancient Greece, accepted as
assurance of far-reaching powers. What was worse, he was known to have
written poetry.
Before the war, his opposition to the introduction of conscription
in the United Kingdom had roused the animosity of all who aimed at
establishing militarism as a permanent system in this country. Thus
political animosity was added to the official prejudice against a
buoyant and liberal temperament, conjoined with a politeness and an
open-hearted manner startlingly at variance with official usage. One
must acknowledge that, in choosing the man for command, Lord Kitchener
hardly took sufficient account of qualities likely to arouse antipathy
among certain influential classes and the newspapers which represent
their opinions. But careless of such prudent considerations, as his
manner was, he allowed his decision to be guided by the General’s long
experience of warfare, and designedly selected an eager temperament,
liable to incautious impetuosity, but suited, as might be supposed,
to an undertaking which demanded impetuous action. It was, however,
probably in fear lest natural impulse should be given too loose a
rein that the instructions mentioned above impressed only caution
upon the appointed commander. In view of the strong opposition to the
whole enterprise, it was also assumed that no reinforcements could be
promised, and none should be asked for. Even the allotted Divisions
were not allowed the ten per cent. extra men usually granted to fill up
the gaps of immediate loss.
After that conference in the _Queen Elizabeth_ on March 22 (when
Sir Ian left the final decision to the naval authorities), it was
evident that a military landing could not be avoided, unless the
whole expedition were abandoned. It is easy now for belated prudence
to maintain that Sir Ian should then have abandoned it, secured (if
he could) the acquiescence of the navy in defeat, counter-ordered
the assembling troops, and returned to London. Prudence could have
said much for such a retirement. Small preparation had been made; the
strongest part of the striking force was still distant; the number of
the enemy (though roughly estimated at 40,000 on the Peninsula, and
30,000 in reserve beyond Bulair) was quite unknown; ever since the
appearance of our fleet, Turks had been digging like beavers every
night at most of the possible points of our offence; and it had been
proved that the cross-fire of naval guns could not dislodge them even
from the toe of the Peninsula, where, for about five miles up to the
rising ground in front of Achi Baba, the surface appeared comparatively
level. All these objections could have been urged, and, indeed, were
urged at the time by Generals to whom, as to the German commanders
of the Turkish defence, a landing appeared impossible. But if any
one believes that a high-spirited and optimistic officer was likely
to consider a retirement to be his duty just when he had received a
command which he regarded as the surest means of terminating the war,
he errs like a German psychologist in his judgment of mankind.
[Sidenote: DELAY OF RELOADING TRANSPORTS]
So, in the face of all objections, the preparations for an assault
upon the Peninsula began. The immediate difficulty was a question
of transport. Besides 5000 Australians from Egypt, the Royal Naval
Division (less three battalions) had already arrived at Mudros, and
their twelve transports were anchored in the great harbour. But it
was found that the ships were indeed well enough packed for peace
conditions, but the freight had not been arranged with a view to
launching separate units complete upon the field of action. Men were
divided from their ammunition, guns from their carriages, carts from
their horses. Perhaps, for a long voyage, it is impossible to load
transports so as to make each unit self-supporting. At all events,
it was not done, and on the desert shores of the Mudros inlet it was
impossible to unload and sort out and repack. Unless incalculable time
was to be lost, such a confused piece of work could not be undertaken
apart from wharves and cranes and docks. Wharves and cranes and docks
were to be found at Alexandria, but no nearer; and to Alexandria the
transports were ordered to return. That historic city thus became the
main base--Mudros harbour, which had previously been selected, now
serving as intermediate or advanced base.[79] Lord Kitchener approved
the return and repacking of the transports, and certain advantages in
the matter of drill and organisation were gained by the delay, to say
nothing of the inestimable advantage of more settled weather. But the
enemy also gained advantages, and in the extra month allowed them they
increased their defensive works with laborious anxiety.
[Sidenote: THE FORCES IN EGYPT]
On March 25 (a calendar month before the great landing) Sir Ian
Hamilton followed the transports to Egypt and remained there till April
7. While he was there his Administrative Staff arrived (April 1). It
had been appointed after he left England, and until its arrival the
administrative work had been, with much extra exertion, carried on by
his Chief of Staff, General Braithwaite, and the rest of the General
Staff. Sir Ian took the opportunity of his presence in Egypt to inspect
the 29th Division (under Major-General Hunter-Weston), which began
to arrive in Alexandria on March 28 and was encamped at Mex outside
the city while its transports were being reloaded for the landing.
He also inspected the Royal Naval Division (under Major-General
Paris) at Port Said, and the French Division (under Général d’Amade)
near Alexandria, where their transports also were being reloaded. At
least equally significant, when viewed from what was then the future,
was his inspection of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps,
or “Anzacs,” as they came to be called. The corps was commanded by
Lieut.-General Sir W. R. Birdwood: the Australian Division under
Major-General W. T. Bridges, the mixed New Zealand and Australian
Division under Major-General Sir Alexander Godley. The Australian
Division was encamped at Mena, near the Pyramids; the mixed Division
at Heliopolis on the other side of Cairo. Sir Ian also inspected the
42nd (East Lancashire) Division (under Major-General W. Douglas, the
first Territorials to volunteer for foreign service), although they
were not as yet part of his own force, but stood under command of
Major-General Sir John Maxwell for the defence of Egypt. Beside these
fighting Divisions, since so renowned, there remained the Assyrian
Jewish Refugee Mule Corps (better known as “the Zionists”), organised
only a few days before out of Jewish refugees from Syria and Palestine,
chiefly Russian subjects, who had sought safety in Egypt. Colonel J. H.
Patterson had been commissioned to select a body of about 500, with 750
transport mules. Orders were given in Hebrew and partly in English; the
men were armed with rifles taken from the Turks in the battle of the
Canal; and the regimental badge was the Shield of David. Probably this
was the first purely Jewish fighting corps that went into action since
Jerusalem fell to the Roman armies under Titus.[80]
[Sidenote: THE ANZACS IN EGYPT]
The fortunate presence of the “Anzacs” in Egypt was due to Lord
Kitchener’s constant apprehension of a Turkish attack upon the Suez
Canal and the main country, in which it was natural to suppose that
a nationalist and religious feeling would rally a large part of the
inhabitants to the enemy’s side. At the outbreak of war with Germany
thousands of the youth in Australia and New Zealand (including
large numbers of Maoris) had eagerly volunteered, moved by love of
adventure and a racial affection for the mother-country. After nearly
three months’ preparation--a difficult task, persistently effected
in Australia by Major-General Bridges, who for three years had been
commandant of Duntroon Military College--the whole force assembled
at King George Sound on October 31, 1914, and set sail next day (the
day of Turkey’s entrance into the war as the Central Powers’ Ally).
Thirty-eight transports carried the army corps, and they were convoyed
by cruisers, one of which (the _Sydney_, under Captain Glossop) gained
the distinction upon the route of destroying the active raider _Emden_
at Cocos Island, and taking her gallant and resourceful captain, Karl
von Müller, prisoner (November 9). Having reached Egypt on December 3,
the “Anzacs” went into camps at points near Cairo for further training,
and some selected battalions took part in the repulse of Djemal Pasha’s
attack upon the Canal near Ismailia in the first week of February 1915.
A finer set of men than the “Anzacs” after their three months’ training
upon the desert sands could hardly be found in any country. With the
aid of open-air life, sufficient food, and freedom from grinding
poverty, Australia and New Zealand had bred them as though to display
the physical excellence of which the British type is capable when
released from manufacturing squalor or agricultural subjection. Equally
distinguished in feature and in figure--the eyes rather deep-set and
looking level to the front, the nose straight and rather prominent,
shoulders loose and broad, moving easily above the slim waist and
lengthy thighs, the chest, it is true, rather broad than deep, owing to
Australia’s clear and sunny air--they walked the earth with careless
and dare-devil self-confidence. Gifted with the intelligence that
comes of freedom and healthy physique, they were educated rather to
resourceful energy in the face of nature than to scientific knowledge
and the arts. Since they sprang from every Colonial class, and had
grown up accustomed to natural equality, military discipline at first
appeared to them an irritating and absurd superfluity, and they could
be counted upon to face death but hardly to salute an officer. Indeed,
their general conception of discipline was rather reasonable than
regular, and their language, habitually violent, continued unrestrained
in the presence of superiors; so to the natural irony of our race was
added a Colonial independence.
Except in action, the control of such men was inevitably difficult.
Released from a long voyage, exposed to the unnatural conditions of
warfare, and beguiled by the curious amenities of an Oriental city,
now for the first time experienced, many availed themselves of Cairo’s
opportunity for enjoyment beyond the strict limit of regulations. The
most demure of English tourists upon the Continent, having escaped from
the trammels of identity, have been known in former times to behave as
they would not behave in their own provincial towns; much more might
unrestrained behaviour be expected in men whose sense of personal
responsibility in a foreign city had been further reduced by uniform,
and who were encouraged to excess by the easy standard of military
tradition, and by the foreknowledge that, to get beforehand with death,
the interval for pleasure might be short. It was no wonder, therefore,
that, while twenty per cent. of the Colonial forces (later ten per
cent.) poured into Cairo daily upon any animal or conveyance which
could move, the beautiful city became a scene of frequent turmoil.[81]
Upon his journey back to the advanced base, there were many
thoughts to divide and even oppress the mind of the most sanguine
Commander-in-Chief. The fateful decision had now to be made--a decision
upon which the future destiny of the war, and, indeed, of his country,
so largely depended. The burden of responsibility lay upon his head
alone. To his single judgment were entrusted, not only the lives of
many thousand devoted men, but the highest interests of an Alliance
in the justice of whose cause he whole-heartedly believed. As the
inevitable hour approached, the difficulties of the appointed task were
recognised as greater even than foreseen. The strongest nerve might
well hesitate to confront them. Even at this crisis of decision, the
chief among his commanding Generals were inclined to turn aside from
the Peninsula as from impossibility. One advocated an attack upon Asia
Minor, with a view to diverting the enemy’s main force, and so clearing
a passage for the fleet. Another favoured further delay and continuous
training, in hope of some more propitious opportunity. A third, while
offering no alternative, considered the attempt too desperate to be
tried. Upon a sensitive and imaginative nature the risk, the sacrifice
of lives, the difficulties of a small force too rapidly organised,
insufficiently equipped with modern ammunition, and unsupported by
reinforcements, weighed heavily. To these were added the discouraging
representations of friendly, trusted, and experienced officers, upon
whose diligent co-operation the success of the whole design entirely
depended. In such hours as those, deep searchings of mind and heart are
the unenviable lot of the man whose word decides.
[Sidenote: ATTACK THROUGH BULAIR CONSIDERED]
But Sir Ian’s decision was already taken, and subsequent conference
with the Admirals de Robeck and Wemyss only confirmed it. On their
arrival at Mudros, his Generals also agreed, and the General whose
objections to landing on any condition had been the most serious,
became enthusiastic for the scheme, if landing was attempted. Various
lines of attack were possible, and each was carefully considered. To
the lay mind, an assault upon the neck of the Peninsula at Bulair
appeared so obvious that, from the very outset of operations, Sir Ian
was blamed for not attempting it. The neck is narrow--not more than
three miles across. If it were cut, the enemy on the main Peninsula
might be expected to surrender for want of supplies; the Straits would
then be free from obstacle on the European side, and the Asiatic side
could be commanded by big guns on Achi Baba and the Kilid Bahr plateau
opposite Chanak. The main objection to this obvious strategy was the
disconcerting truth that the enemy’s chief line of communication
did not run through Bulair, but across the strait itself, chiefly
from the Asiatic coast to the town of Gallipoli, and even if Bulair
were occupied, the supply of the Turkish army on the Peninsula could
be maintained; while an Allied force advancing from Bulair towards
the Narrows (which was the objective of the whole expedition) would
be perpetually threatened from the rear. Bulair itself was also a
formidable obstacle. The famous lines, originally fortified by the
Allies in the Crimean War, and renewed to resist Russian, Bulgarian,
and Greek attacks from the north, had been incalculably strengthened
in the preceding weeks under German direction. On his first survey
(March 18) Sir Ian had observed the labyrinth of white lines marking
the newly-constructed trenches upon which thousands of Turks had
already been long at work. The gleam of wire was apparent around the
only two possible points of landing, both difficult, and unsuited for
naval co-operation. An assault upon Bulair would have involved immense
losses, and, even if successful, could not have advanced the solution
of the problem--the problem of the Narrows--without further dubious and
speculative fighting, front and rear.
[Sidenote: OTHER POSSIBLE LINES OF ATTACK]
Another proposal, which found favour with some, was a landing at Enos,
on the mouth of the Thracian river Maritza (the ancient Hebrus). Except
that the actual landing upon the level coast might have been easier,
the same objections held, but in exaggerated form. The distance from
the Narrows was more than twice as long. An army on the march round
the head of the Gulf of Xeros would have had its left flank exposed
the whole way to the large Turkish reserves known to be stationed at
Rodosto and Adrianople. The two main roads from those important towns
meet at Keshan, about fifteen miles from the Xeros coast, and from that
base fairly good roads extend to Enos on the one side, and to Kavak,
at the head of the Bulair neck, on the other. The Turkish armies could
thus concentrate as at the handle of a fan, ready to strike at any
point along the edge where the British were moving within reach of the
coast. Nor could the navy have afforded much protection to our troops
upon the march, the head-waters of the gulf being shallow far out from
shore. Had Sir Ian attempted, as others have suggested, to turn inland
and fight his way towards Constantinople, disregarding his appointed
task at the Straits, he would, of course, have lost the assistance of
the navy altogether, except as defence to his precarious base and lines
of communication along the bit of coast; and, apart from the navy, he
had no transport available for a long march.
Between Bulair and the sharp northern point of Suvla Bay, steep
cliffs and the absence of beach, except in tiny inlets, prevent the
possibility of landing. But inland from Suvla Bay itself there is
open ground, and a practicable beach extends south as far as the
cliff promontory of Gaba Tepe, although the main mass of the Sari
Bair mountain rises close behind the southern part of the beach in
a series of broken precipices and ravines. From Suvla Point to Gaba
Tepe it would certainly have been possible to put the whole united
force ashore, and, to judge from subsequent events, this might have
been the wisest course. On the other hand, Suvla is far removed from
the Narrows; a straight line thence to Maidos measures nearly fifteen
miles; it passes over the top of Sari Bair, a formidable barrier;
while, upon the long and devious route alone possible for a movement of
troops, the army would have had both flanks exposed, on the right to
the strong Turkish position of Kilid Bahr plateau, and on the left to
large forces available to the enemy from Rodosto and Gallipoli. It is
probable that Sir Ian’s troops were not then numerous enough to hold
so long a line of communications and at the same time resist flank
attacks, especially the strong attack to be anticipated from the left.
A landing at Gaba Tepe itself, where north and south the ground is
open, and a fairly level gap between the Sari Bair range and the Kilid
Bahr plateau allows the long and wandering road from Krithia to cross
the Peninsula to Maidos, would have exposed the army to similar flank
attacks; but the distance is short (not much over five miles), and in
all probability a landing in full force might have been attempted here
had not the fortification and armament on the promontory itself, and on
the gradually sloping land upon both sides of it, appeared too powerful
for assault. The barbed-wire entanglements extended into the sea, and
the country formed the most dangerous of all approaches--a glacis with
no dead ground and little cover. South of this position the cliffs rise
abruptly again, and along all the coast round Cape Helles to Morto Bay
(which was commanded by guns from the Asiatic side) a survey showed no
beach or opening, except at a few small gaps and gullies, so soon to be
celebrated.
[Illustration: HELLES AND THE STRAITS]
[Sidenote: THE SELECTED LANDING-PLACES]
As he rejected the coast between Suvla and Gaba Tepe, Sir Ian was
compelled to disregard Napoleon’s maxim of war and divide his forces.
His object was to shake the enemy’s _moral_, and puzzle the command
by several simultaneous attacks, threatening front and rear, and
keeping the Turkish Staff in flustered uncertainty where the main
defence should be concentrated. Accordingly, a few of those small but
practicable landing-places round the extremity of the Peninsula were
selected. Here the assault upon the Turkish defences was to be made
chiefly by units of the 29th Division. The chosen points were S Beach,
or De Tott’s Battery, on the farther side of Morto Bay, where only a
small force was to attempt holding on so as to protect our right flank;
V Beach, just below the large village and ancient castle of Seddel
Bahr, where a main attack was to be made and the ground permanently
occupied; W Beach, where a similar force was to land, and link up with
V Beach, having the same object in view; X Beach (round the point of
Cape Tekke, looking out towards the Gulf of Xeros), where a force was
to work up the face of a cliff and attempt to join hands with W Beach;
and Y Beach, about three and a half miles north along the cliffs, where
a small body was to scramble up a precipitous ravine and make a feint
upon Krithia. Both flanks of the main attack were further protected by
the sea and the naval guns.
Such was the task of the 29th Division, their general objective being
the low but formidable position of Achi Baba, a hill sitting asquat
almost across the Peninsula about five miles from Cape Helles, and
rising by gradual and bare slopes to a truncated pyramid, some 600
to 700 feet high. About nine miles along the coast beyond Y Beach,
between a point north of Gaba Tepe and a slight projection then called
Fisherman’s Hut, three miles farther up the coast from Gaba Tepe, the
Anzacs were to land on Z Beach, and work their way into the defiles
and up the heights of Sari Bair. Their main purpose was to distract
the enemy forces south of Achi Baba by threatening their rear and
communications. With a similar object the greater part of the Royal
Naval Division, which had no guns, and for which no small boats could
be supplied, was to make a feint near the Bulair lines at the head of
the Gulf. Further to distract the enemy’s attention, one infantry
regiment and one battery from the French mixed Division were instructed
to land on the Asiatic shore near Kum Kali; but not to remain there,
nor advance beyond the river Mendere. Such, in brief, was the general
design for attacking the Peninsula position, confidently described by
German authorities as impregnable.
By the middle of April the force appointed to accomplish this
overwhelming task had assembled in the Mudros harbour or loch. Large
as that inlet is, the surface was so crowded with ships that the naval
authorities, among whom Commodore Roger Keyes was Chief of Staff to
Admiral de Robeck, had difficulty in finding anchorage for all. Beside
the ships of war, places had to be fixed for 108 transports and other
vessels. The 29th Division had arrived in twenty transports;[82]
the Anzacs in forty; the Royal Naval Division in twelve; the French
Division in twenty-three; the Supply and Store Ships numbered twelve,
and the _Arcadian_ was detailed for General Headquarters.
[Sidenote: PRINCIPAL STAFF OFFICERS]
The names of the officers appointed to the most important positions
upon Sir Ian’s Staff may here be mentioned, his personal Aides being
Captain S. H. Pollen and Lieutenant G. St. John Brodrick:
_Chief of the General Staff_, Major-General W. F. Braithwaite; other
members of the General Staff, Lieut.-Colonel M. C. P. Ward, R.A.;
Lieut.-Colonel Doughty-Wylie (Royal Welsh Fusiliers); Captain
C. F. Aspinall (Royal Munster Fusiliers); Captain G. P. Dawnay
(Reserve of Officers); Captain W. H. Deedes (King’s Royal Rifles).
_Deputy Adjutant-General_, Brigadier-General E. M. Woodward.
_Deputy Quartermaster-General_, Brigadier-General S. H. Winter.
_Liaison Officers_, with the British, Commandant de Cavalerie Breveté
Berthier de Sauvigny, Lieut. Pelliot, and Lieut. de Laborde.
With the French, Lieut.-Colonel H. D. Farquharson, and Captain C.
de Putron.
_Camp Commandant_, Major J. S. S. Churchill (Oxfordshire Fusiliers).
_Censor_, Captain William Maxwell (the well-known war correspondent
in former campaigns).
_Principal Chaplain_, The Rev. A. C. Hordern.
HEADQUARTERS OF BASE.
_Base Commandant_, Brigadier-General C. R. M‘Grigor, C.B.
_General Staff Officer_, Major E. A. Plunkett (Lincolnshire Regiment).
_Assistant Quartermaster-General_, Lieut.-Colonel P. C. J. Scott
(A.S.C.).
_Assistant Director of Medical Services_, Major M. J. Sexton
(R.A.M.C.).
HEADQUARTERS OF ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES.
_Director of Army Signals_, Lieut.-Colonel M. G. E. Bowman-Manifold
(R.E.).
_Director of Supplies and Transport_, Colonel F. W. B. Koe, C.B.
_Assistant Director of Transport_, Major O. Striedinger (A.S.C.).
_Director of Ordnance Services_, Colonel R. W. M. Jackson, C.B.,
C.M.G.
_Director of Works_, Brigadier-General G. S. M‘D. Elliot.
_Director of Medical Services_, Surgeon-General W. E. Birrell.
_Paymaster-in-Chief_, Lieut.-Colonel J. C. Armstrong (A.P.D.).
The total number of the Staff at the beginning of the great enterprise
was eighty-four. Brigadier-General Woodward and Surgeon-General Birrell
did not arrive till April 19, having remained in Egypt under orders
to organise the hospitals. In their absence the general scheme for
the evacuation of the wounded was drawn up by Lieut.-Colonel A. E. C.
Keble, R.A.M.C.
[Sidenote: AVAILABLE FORCES]
The military force under Sir Ian’s command at the beginning of the
campaign was composed as follows:
THE 29TH DIVISION.
_Commander_, Major-General A. G. Hunter-Weston, C.B., D.S.O.
_Divisional Artillery Commander_, Brigadier-General R. W. Breeks.
_Division Engineers Commander_, Lieut.-Colonel C. B. Kingston (R.E.).
_86th Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Brigadier-General S. W. Hare.
(1) 2nd Royal Fusiliers.
(2) 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.
(3) 1st Royal Munster Fusiliers.
(4) 1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers.
_87th Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Brigadier-General W. R. Marshall.
(1) 2nd South Wales Borderers.
(2) 1st King’s Own Scottish Borderers.
(3) 1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
(4) 1st Border Regiment.
_88th Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Brigadier-General H. E. Napier.
(1) 4th Worcester Regiment.
(2) 2nd Hampshire Regiment.
(3) 1st Essex Regiment.
(4) 5th Royal Scots (Territorials).
THE ANZAC ARMY CORPS.
_General Officer Commanding_, Lieut.-General Sir W. R. Birdwood,
K.C.S.I., C.B., C.I.E., D.S.O.
_Brigadier-General, General Staff_, Brigadier-General H. B. Walker,
D.S.O.
_General Staff Officer_, Lieut.-Colonel A. Skeen (24th Punjabis).
_Deputy Adjutant and Quartermaster-General_, Brigadier-General R. A.
Carruthers, C.B.
_Medical Officer_, Colonel C. S. Ryan, V.D. (A.A.M.C.).
_Attached as Specialist on Water Supply_, Lieut.-Colonel A. C. Joly
de Lotbinière, C.S.I., C.I.E.
AUSTRALIAN DIVISION.
_Commander_, Major-General W. T. Bridges, C.M.G.
_General Staff Officer_, Lieut.-Colonel C. B. B. White (R.A.A.).
_Commanding Divisional Artillery_, Colonel J. J. T. Hobbs, V.D.
_Commanding Divisional Engineers_, Lieut.-Colonel G. C. E. Elliott
(R.E.).
_1st (New South Wales) Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel H. N. M‘Laurin. (1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th
Battalions, New South Wales.)
_2nd (Victoria) Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel the Hon. J. W. M‘Cay, V.D. (5th, 6th, 7th, and
8th Battalions, Victoria.)
_3rd (Australia) Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel E. G. Sinclair Maclagan, D.S.O. (Yorkshire
Regiment). (9th Queensland, 10th South Australian, 11th West
Australian, 12th South Australian, West Australian, and Tasmania.)
_Divisional._ 4th (Victoria) Light Horse.
NEW ZEALAND AND AUSTRALIAN DIVISION.
_General Officer Commanding_, Major-General Sir A. J. Godley,
K.C.M.G., C.B.
_Chief Staff Officer_, Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Braithwaite, D.S.O.
(Royal Welsh Fusiliers).
_Commanding Divisional Artillery_, Lieut.-Colonel G. N. Johnston
(R.A.).
_Commanding Divisional Engineers_, Lieut.-Colonel G. R. Pridham
(R.E.).
_New Zealand Mounted Rifle Brigade._
_Commander_, Brigadier-General A. H. Russell, A.D.C. (Auckland,
Canterbury, and Wellington Mounted Rifles.)
_1st Australian Light Horse Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel H. G. Chauvel, C.M.G. (1st New South Wales, 2nd
Queensland, 3rd South Australian, and Tasmania Regiments.)
_New Zealand Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel F. C. Johnston (North Staffordshire Regiment).
(Auckland, Canterbury, Otago, and Wellington Battalions.)
_4th Australian Infantry Brigade._
_Commander_, Colonel J. Monash. (13th New South Wales, 14th Victoria,
15th Queensland and Tasmania, and 16th South and West Australia
Battalions.)
_Divisional._ Otago Mounted Rifles.
CORPS TROOPS.
_2nd Australian Light Horse Brigade._ (5th, 6th, and 7th Regiments.)
_Commander_, Colonel G. de L. Ryrie.
_3rd Australian Light Horse Brigade._ (8th, 9th, and 10th Regiments.)
_Commander_, Colonel F. G. Hughes, V.D.
The Mounted Units had left their horses behind them in Egypt, and the
popular pictures representing cavalry charging over broken ground upon
the Peninsula are imaginative.
ROYAL NAVAL DIVISION.
_General Officer Commanding_, Major-General A. Paris, C.B.
_General Staff Officer_, Lieut.-Colonel A. H. Ollivant (R.A.). (The
Division had no guns.)
_Commanding Divisional Engineers_, Lieut.-Colonel A. B. Carey (R.E.).
_First Naval Brigade._
_Commander_, Brigadier-General D. Mercer (R.M.L.I.). (Drake,
Nelson, Hawke, and Collingwood Battalions.)
_Second Naval Brigade._
_Commander_, Commodore O. Backhouse (R.N.). (Howe, Hood, Anson,
and Benbow Battalions.)
_Third Naval Brigade._ (Marine.)
_Commander_, Brigadier-General C. N. Trotman (R.M.L.I.). (Chatham,
Portsmouth, Plymouth, and Deal Battalions.)
FRENCH EXPEDITIONARY FORCE.
_Général Commandant le Corps Expeditionnaire Français d’Orient_,
Général de Division d’Amade.
_Chef d’Etat-Major_, Lieut.-Colonel Descoins.
_Commandant d’Armes de la Base_, Général Baumann.
_Division._
_Général Commandant_, Général Masnou.
_Chef d’Etat-Major_, Commandant Romieux.
_Colonel Commandant l’Artillerie_, Lieut.-Colonel Branet.
_Commandant du Génie_, Capitaine Bouyssou.
_1ère Brigade Metropolitaine._
_Général de Brigade_, Général Vandenberg. Comprising 175ème
Régiment d’Infanterie Metropolitaine (Lieut.-Colonel Philippe),
and a Régiment de marche d’Afrique (Lieut.-Colonel Desruelles),
mixed Zouaves and Foreign Legion. _Brigade Coloniale._
_Général de Brigade_, Colonel Ruef. Comprising 4ème Régiment
mixte Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel Vacher), and 6ème Régiment mixte
Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel Noguès). The Division had six batteries
of “75’s,” and three of “65” mountain guns; four guns to each
battery.
Most unfortunately, the Indian Brigade, under General Cox, was for the
present left in Egypt, though its service there was no longer required,
and Sir Ian had appealed to Lord Kitchener for it. Ultimately it
arrived, just too late, on May 1.
The total number of the force was under 70,000; of these certainly not
more than 60,000 could be used for action, even including the necessary
reserves.
[Sidenote: SIR IAN’S ADDRESS]
Landing was intended on April 23, but on the 20th a heavy wind arose,
and blew for forty-eight hours, rendering the movement of small boats
difficult even in Mudros harbour. On the 21st the Commander-in-Chief
issued the following address to his forces:
“SOLDIERS OF FRANCE AND OF THE KING:
“Before us lies an adventure unprecedented in modern war. Together
with our comrades of the Fleet, we are about to force a landing upon
an open beach in face of positions which have been vaunted by our
enemies as impregnable.
“The landing will be made good, by the help of God and the Navy; the
positions will be stormed, and the War brought one step nearer to a
glorious close.
“‘Remember,’ said Lord Kitchener, when bidding adieu to your
Commander, ‘Remember, once you set foot upon the Gallipoli Peninsula,
you must fight the thing through to a finish.’
“The whole world will be watching your progress. Let us prove
ourselves worthy of the great feat of arms entrusted to us.
“IAN HAMILTON,
_General_.”
A few further points remain to be mentioned. On April 17, one of our
submarines, E15, ran aground off Kephez Point, and by a very gallant
action was destroyed by the two picket-boats of the _Triumph_ and
_Majestic_ (ships afterwards sent to the bottom by submarines).
Lieut.-Commander Eric Robinson was in command, and, though coming under
heavy fire, he succeeded in torpedoing the submarine and rendering it
useless to the enemy.
[Sidenote: CONTEMPORARY EVENTS]
On the 23rd, just after the transports had started, news came from the
rugged island of Skyros, eighty miles south-west of Lemnos, that Rupert
Brooke, the poet, had died there of blood-poisoning that evening.
During his visit to the Royal Naval Division at Port Said, Sir Ian
had seen him in his tent upon the sand, prostrate with fever, and had
offered him a place on his Staff. With fine resolution, and a modesty
equally characteristic, Brooke refused, being determined to abide by
the Royal Naval Division, which he had joined before the quixotic
fiasco at Antwerp. On April 20 he took part in a field-day on Skyros,
and in an olive grove there, high up on the mountain Pephko, looking
over Trebaki Bay, he was buried at midnight of the 23rd, his own petty
officers carrying his body over the rocks and prickly bushes. A wooden
cross, surrounded by lumps of marble, marks the spot. His colonel in
the Hood Battalion, Arnold Quilter, Grenadier Guards, who was killed
a fortnight later, wrote to his mother: “His men were devoted to him,
and he had all the makings of a first-rate officer.” Alas! his friends
know that he had all the makings of so much beside, and for them the
world was darkened by the loss of so singularly beautiful a character,
a personality so fine and full of the noblest promise.[83]
Upon other fronts of the war, the chief events of the weeks following
the costly and inconclusive movement at Neuve Chapelle (March 10) were
the capture of Przemysl by the Russians (March 22), followed by heavy
fighting in the Carpathian passes, and the second battle of Ypres,
inaugurated (April 22) on the German side by the earliest use of poison
gas.
CHAPTER V
THE LANDINGS
The wind, which had continued to blow hard on April 22, abated next
day, and in the afternoon the transports bearing the covering force of
the 29th Division began very slowly to move out from Mudros harbour. In
that land-locked inlet, the water was now still, and singularly blue.
“The black ships,” as the navy called the transports owing to their
fresh coat of black paint, wound their way in and out among others
still lying at anchor. They passed the battleships and cruisers of
our own fleet; they passed the Anzac transports, which were to follow
them next day; they passed the battleships and transports of the
French contingents, and the five-funnelled Russian cruiser _Askold_,
lying nearer the little islands which protect the entrance of the
far-extended haven; and as they passed, the pellucid air which still
illuminates the realms of ancient Greece rang with the cheers of races
whose habitation the Greeks had not imagined. Perhaps it is in Greek
history that we find the nearest parallel to such a scene of heroic
joy, the preface to heroic disaster. For when the bright troops of
Athenians started for the conquest of Sicily, we read that nearly the
whole population of the city accompanied their five-mile march down
the Piræus; that there, in sacred silence, libation to the gods was
made; and issuing in line ahead from the harbour, the transport galleys
raced, in pure exhilaration of heart, to the pointed island of Ægina,
fifteen miles away, while far in the air bystanders heard the cries of
invisible spirits, like the wailings of women upon the Phœnician shore
lamenting the beauty of Adonis yearly wounded.[84]
[Sidenote: THE FORCE LEAVING MUDROS]
The British covering force consisted mainly of the 86th Brigade (29th
Division), under Brigadier-General S. W. Hare, but two battalions
of the 87th Brigade and half a battalion of the 88th were attached
to it, beside the Plymouth Battalion of the Royal Naval Division,
as the General’s own reserve, and the Anson Battalion, detailed for
beach duties. Their three transports were escorted by the _Euryalus_
(flagship of Admiral Wemyss, commanding the first and fourth of the
seven squadrons into which the fleet was divided), the _Implacable_,
and the _Cornwallis_, and their station was Tenedos. The next afternoon
(Saturday, April 24) they were followed from Mudros harbour by the
_Queen Elizabeth_ (flagship of Admiral de Robeck), with Sir Ian
Hamilton and the General Headquarter Staff on board, leading the
other battleships in line ahead. After them went the Anzac covering
force, consisting of the 3rd Brigade under Colonel Sinclair Maclagan
(the Queensland, South Australian, West Australian, and a mixed
Australian and Tasmanian battalion). The remainder of the Anzac army
corps followed, escorted by the _Queen_ (flagship of Admiral Thursby,
commanding the second squadron), the _London_, and the _Prince of
Wales_. Their destination was a point off Imbros, near Cape Kephalos,
where they were to wait during the night till the moon went down. The
covering force occupied four transports, beside the 1500 men of the
brigade placed upon the _Queen_. General Birdwood’s headquarters were
on the _Minnewaska_, and about thirty transports carried the remainder
of his corps. As they passed out of harbour, leaving the Lemnian shore
with which many, by practised landings, had become familiar, they
too were greeted with tumultuous cheering by the ships which had not
started yet, and tumultuously they replied. Moved onward irresistibly
into imminent death, knowing that by the morrow’s afternoon at least
one in ten of their numbers would have fallen in all the splendour
of youthful vitality, still they cheered like schoolboys bound for a
football match or a holiday by the sea. Excitement, comradeship, the
infectious joy of confronting a dangerous enterprise side by side, made
them cheer. Never before had those men known what battle means, but
the sinking dread of the unknown, which all men feel as the shadow of
extreme peril approaches, was allayed by the renunciation of self, and
the clear belief that, whoever else was wrong in the world, it was not
they.
The night was very still. The three-quarter moon set soon after 3 a.m.,
and there was total darkness over sea and mountains until a cold and
windless dawn gradually appeared. The water was smooth as a mirror,
and a thin veil of mist covered the shore. Just before the sun rose
in a blaze of gold, four of the battleships and four cruisers opened
fire upon the defences at the main landing-places round Cape Helles,
and continued a heavy bombardment. At the same time, the landing of
the covering parties at the five selected points around the end of the
Peninsula began, and account of them may here be given in succession
from the extreme right flank at S to the extreme left at Y.
[Sidenote: LANDING AT DE TOTT’S]
On the evening of the 24th, about 750 of the 2nd South Wales Borderers
under Colonel Casson had come on board the _Cornwallis_ in four
trawlers from their transport. Just before sunrise they put off in the
trawlers again, each trawler towing six boats, and proceeded up the
strait for about 2½ miles to the point called Eski Hissarlik or De
Tott’s Battery, on the north-east end of Morto Bay. The _Cornwallis_
followed, with the _Lord Nelson_ as covering ship, but, being delayed
by the _Agamemnon_ and some French mine-sweepers coming across her
course, she did not reach the point till the men had approached the
shore, rowing the boats as best they could, though unaccustomed to
the water, and encumbered with their packs, rifles, and trenching
tools. Almost before the boats grounded, they leapt into the sea, and
struggled to shore, under a heavy rifle fire which immediately opened
from the Turkish trenches.
In perfect order, but at great speed, these veteran troops made for the
height, some scrambling up the cliff, some approaching by a gradual
slope on the west side. They were already nearing the summit when a
mixed naval party of about 100 marines and sailors put to shore, and
were of great assistance in taking two lines of trenches and working
side by side with the South Wales Borderers, who were already driving
the Turks down the farther slope of the ridge. Guns from the Asiatic
side opened fire upon the beach, but most of the shells, striking
the mud at the water’s edge, did not burst, and the _Cornwallis_,
firing by signal from shore, silenced the battery about 10 a.m.
Being urgently summoned from W Beach, and seeing that the soldiers
now held the position firmly, Captain Davidson then withdrew the
naval party, and steamed to his second position down the strait.[85]
Colonel Casson’s battalion clung to the point they had gained for the
critical forty-eight hours of the landing, thus preventing Turkish
reinforcements from coming down to Seddel Bahr, and protecting the
right flank of our possible advance. The post was then taken over by
the French, who held it throughout the campaign, though much exposed
to the Asiatic guns. This successful enterprise cost about sixty
casualties, including Major Margesson, who was killed.
[Sidenote: SEDDEL BAHR]
Walking along the coast south-west from De Tott’s Battery, one rounds
the two-mile arc of Morto Bay, near the middle of which the combined
“Deres” or watercourses of the Krithia region run out into the strait.
Across the valley, nearly a mile inland, a few lofty piles of an
ancient, perhaps Byzantine, aqueduct then stood, probably at one time
carrying water to a more ancient town than Seddel Bahr. Later in
the campaign they were destroyed, but for some months they formed a
conspicuous landmark. Along the rest of the bay the land slopes gently
down to the beach, and had been laid out in gardens cypress-fringed,
such as Islam loves. The gardens were now entrenched and thickly
netted with barbed wire; but the bay would have afforded the finest
landing-place upon the southern Peninsula, had it not been fully
commanded by guns across the strait. Upon the south-west point of the
bay, the old Turkish castle and fortress of Seddel Bahr, projecting
boldly into the sea, guards the entrance to the strait, and, as already
described, at the foot of its towers and curtain-walls are still heaped
the huge round stones which the Turks once deemed sufficient to hurl at
intruders beating up against the current. Behind the castle was huddled
a grey stone village or small town, of the usual Turkish character,
with narrow and winding alleys between secretive houses, and just
beyond the point there projected a low reef of rocks round which the
deep-blue water, hurrying out to the open sea, perpetually eddied.
[Sidenote: THE RIVER CLYDE AT V BEACH]
From the Seddel Bahr point the coast falls back a little into the
shallow arc of a bay barely over a quarter of a mile long if one
follows the sandy beach. Around the curve, the ground rises rather
steeply, almost exactly in the form of a classic theatre, to which the
beach would serve as orchestra and the sea as stage. This little bay,
to be renowned as V Beach, ends on the western side in precipitous
cliffs, round the foot of which it is possible to clamber over masses
of fallen rocks, but no path leads. On the top of the cliff stood one
of the most powerful of the entrance forts destroyed by the naval
attack on February 19. The beach itself is narrow--about 10 yards
across--and was edged by a small but perpendicular bank, not over
4 or 5 feet in height. The slopes of the theatre were at that time
covered with grass, to be changed later on for dust and heavy sand. The
slope measures about 200 yards from beach to summit. Along the edge
of the beach ran an entanglement of the peculiarly strong barbed wire
used by the Turks; a second entanglement ran round the curving slope
two-thirds of the way up, and a third joined the two at right angles
at the eastern end of the bay. The upper part of the semicircle was
strongly entrenched and armed with pom-poms, while in the ruins of the
old fortress, in the village, and in a shattered barrack on the top
of the western summit, machine-guns and a multitude of snipers were
concealed. Nature and man’s invention had converted the little bay into
a defensive engine of manifold destruction.
[Illustration: THE _RIVER CLYDE_, “V” BEACH, AND SEDDEL BAHR, ABOUT TWO
MONTHS AFTER LANDING]
At daybreak the _Albion_ opened a heavy bombardment. There was no
answer. The little semicircle remained still as an empty theatre, and
sanguine spirits hoped that defence had been abandoned. Transhipping
rapidly from a fleet-sweeper, three companies of the 1st Dublin
Fusiliers and a party of the Anson Battalion, Royal Naval Division,
arranged themselves in six tows, each made up of a pinnace and four
cutters, and carrying 125 men apiece. In line abreast the tows started
for the shore over the glassy water, pale with morning. Except for the
continuous crash of our bursting shells, not a sound came from the
shore. On the right of the main party of tows loomed a large collier,
called the _River Clyde_, but known to the classical as the “Trojan
Horse,” and to the unlearned as the “Dun Cow.” She carried the 1st
Munster Fusiliers, half the 2nd Hampshire Regiment, one company of the
Dublin Fusiliers, and details of sappers, signallers, field ambulance,
and an Anson beach-party. Commander Edward Unwin, R.N., was in charge
of her, a man of eagle features and impetuous but noble personality,
inclined to pour imprecations upon “the Army” while he assisted them
with untiring ingenuity and a courage conspicuous even on that heroic
day. His orders were to run his ship hard aground after the tows had
landed their first party. A hopper alongside the collier was then to
proceed under her own steam and momentum, towing a string of lighters
so as to form a pontoon for the troops, who were to issue from square
iron doors opening close up to the ship’s bow on the port and starboard
sides. But the tow-rope attaching the lighters to the hopper fouled;
the current drove the _River Clyde_ ashore 30 yards west of the spot
designed; and tows and ship touched ground almost at the same moment.
The hopper ran forward with the lighters, which were secured after a
short delay. The gangways dropped. Shoving each other eagerly forward,
the Munster Fusiliers rushed from the opened ports.
[Sidenote: THE V BEACH LANDING]
Hardly had the first man set foot on the gangways, when the invisible
enemy broke the silence with an overwhelming outburst of rifle fire,
pom-poms, and machine-guns. The Munster Fusiliers of the first company
fell so thick that many were suffocated or crushed by the sheer weight
of the dead dropping upon them. Few if any of those eager Irishmen
struggled across the lighters to the beach unwounded. In the tows,
the boats were riddled with holes, and the greater number destroyed.
The Dublin Fusiliers and the crews supplied by the navy were shot
down either in the boats or as they leapt into the shallow water and
attempted to rush across the narrow beach. A few succeeded in reaching
the low and perpendicular bank of sand, and lay under its uncertain
cover, unable to show a head above the top without death. The Turks had
carefully marked the ranges of every point along the shore with stakes,
and they fired in security from dug-outs and deep trenches, against
which no naval bombardment availed.
Inspired by a courage which baffles reason with amazement (for what
reasonable motive had these men--these Irishmen--to spring into the
face of instant death?), the second company of Munster Fusiliers
crowded upon the gangway, and rushed along the lighters over the dead
bodies of their friends. As they ran, the end of the pontoon nearest
the shore was torn loose by the rip of the current, and drifted off
into deep water. The men fell in masses, and many, either to escape
the torrent of bullets or in passionate eagerness to reach the shore,
attempted to swim to land, but were dragged down by the weight of
their equipment, and lay visible upon the sand below. With unwavering
decision, the sailors laboured to restore the pontoon. Commander Unwin
ran down the gangway and, plunging into the sea, worked beside the
men. Midshipman Malleson and Midshipman Drewry (in honour of whom
the French afterwards named the jetty which they built on the spot)
swam out, carrying ropes to and from the drifting lighters under the
ceaseless splash of bullets and shells. The names of all these have
become celebrated, and they won the most envied of all our country’s
distinctions, but it is almost invidious to select even such names as
theirs among the men and boys of every rank, and of both services,
whose self-devotion made that day and place so memorable.[86]
By such devoted efforts, a reserve lighter was brought into position,
and the pontoon again completed. A third company of the Munster
Fusiliers dashed along it, with similar heroism, towards the shore,
suffering terrible loss from accurate and low-firing shrapnel, now
added to the other missiles of death. The survivors joined the
survivors under shelter of the low bank of sand. There was a brief
pause in the attempt to land, but when it began again, the pontoon
was again carried adrift by the current, bearing upon it a number of
Hampshire men, together with Brigadier-General Napier, commanding
the 88th Brigade, and his Brigade-Major, Captain Costeker. They lay
down flat upon the lighters, but nearly all were killed as they lay,
including these two officers of distinguished military name. Connection
with the shore was thus severed. Nearly all the boats in the tows had
been destroyed, and some were idly drifting, manned only by the dead.
The dead lay upon the lighters, and below the water, and awash upon the
edge of the beach. The ripple of the tormented sea broke red against
the sand.
One of the tows had taken half a company of the Dublin Fusiliers to a
point called the “Camber Beach,” just north-east of the Seddel Bahr
castle. Perhaps they were intended to threaten the enemy’s position
from his left flank by creeping round the castle and attacking the
village streets. This they proceeded to do, and, as the Turks had not
entrenched this position, the Irishmen with great skill crawled from
cover to cover till they reached the village windmills and the entrance
to the houses. There they were overwhelmed by the crowd of snipers.
Many were killed, some cut off, only twenty-five returned. The wounded
had to be left. One who afterwards saw the dead in a room said the
bodies were charred, and the base of a 6-in. shell lay there. Probably
hence arose reports of mutilation.[87]
[Sidenote: THE NIGHT ON V BEACH]
Before noon, any further attempt to effect a landing was abandoned,
and the main body of troops which was to have followed close upon
the covering party was diverted to W Beach. The mixed survivors of
Dublin and Munster Fusiliers, and of the Hampshire companies, remained
crouching behind the low parapet of the bank, with no food or water
beyond such small quantities as they had brought with them. There they
lay, exposed to the full blaze of sun, and only just sheltered from
the incessant rain of bullets and shells. But for some machine-guns
mounted on the bows of the _River Clyde_ and protected by sandbags, the
Turks would have found little difficulty in exterminating their whole
number. With them were two officers of the General Staff--Colonel
Doughty-Wylie, our humane and gallant military consul at Konia during
the Adana massacres in 1909, and Colonel W. de L. Williams (Hampshire
Regiment), who did their utmost to hearten the men during the remaining
hours of that terrible day and through the night. As the Turks had no
big guns on the spot, and the fire of the Asiatic guns was to some
extent checked by the fleet, the remainder of the party on board the
_River Clyde_ were comparatively secure. The heavy loss in officers
included the General of the 88th Brigade, as we have seen, and Colonel
Carrington Smith, commanding that brigade’s Hampshire Regiment,
both killed. During the afternoon and evening the naval boats were
constantly engaged in removing the wounded from the _River Clyde_ and
other points where they could be reached. In this duty Commander Unwin
again distinguished himself, going along the shore in a lifeboat and
rescuing the wounded lying in shallow water, under persistent fire from
the semicircular heights. Throughout the day and far into the moonlit
night the _Queen Elizabeth_, _Cornwallis_, and _Albion_ and other ships
maintained a heavy bombardment, which restrained the furious Turkish
attempts at counter-attack, and assisted the remainder of the covering
party in landing from the _River Clyde_ under the comparative darkness.
But later in the night the noise of battle was renewed. Outbursts of
rifle and machine-gun fire, varied by shells thrown over from W Beach
by two of our own field guns, allowed the wearied men no rest; and at
dawn the _Albion_ turned on her 12-in. shells, like trains rushing
headlong down a tunnel to the crash of collision.
[Sidenote: W BEACH LANDING]
At V Beach, in spite of the incalculable courage and skill of the Irish
Regulars and the sailors combined, the landing on the 25th had failed.
At W Beach, not much more than half a mile north-west, over the cliff
of Cape Helles where the lighthouse and Fort I had stood, the English
covering party displayed equal heroism and gained greater success. W
Beach is a shallower but longer arc of sandy shore, curving between
Cape Helles and Cape Tekke, the two extreme points of the Peninsula.
Between the two inaccessible cliffs and the fallen rocks which the
sea washes, a gully has been cut by a short watercourse, draining the
extremity of the high and slightly undulating plateau in which the
Peninsula ends. Except after heavy rains, the gully is dry, but its
occasional stream, working upon the sandstone formation, and aided by
the north-east wind blowing dust over the plateau’s surface, has piled
up low heaps of sand dune, at that time covered with bent-grass, spring
flowers, and the aromatic herbs which flourish upon the dry seacoasts
of the Near East. Along its gentle curve the actual beach is rather
more than a quarter of a mile in length, and its broadest part, where
the gully runs out, is some 40 yards across. Hidden in the shallows
a strong wire entanglement had been laid, and another protected the
whole length of the beach from end to end at the water’s edge. To check
communication with V Beach, two redoubts had been constructed upon the
plateau south-east, and from them thick entanglements ran down to the
cliffs edge at Cape Helles. Other entanglements on the north-west
cut off communication with the more distant X Beach. The top rows, as
it were, of the theatre, broken near the centre of the gully, were
strongly entrenched; machine-guns, commanding the beach by converging
fire, were lodged in caves upon the cliffs on both sides; and the land
and sea were planted with mines. In his dispatch, Sir Ian Hamilton
justly says:
“So strong, in fact, were the defences of W Beach that the Turks may
well have considered them impregnable, and it is my firm conviction
that no finer feat of arms has ever been achieved by the British
soldier--or any other soldier--than the storming of these trenches
from open boats.”[88]
These unsurpassed soldiers were men of the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers
(86th Brigade), and, in their honour, W Beach was afterwards generally
known as “Lancashire Landing.” The _Euryalus_ was the guardian ship
of this covering party, and after half an hour’s naval bombardment,
to which no answer came, eight picket boats in line abreast, towing
four cutters apiece, steamed toward the shore till they reached the
shallows, and the tows were cast off to row to land. As at V Beach,
the Turks maintained their silence till the boats grated. Then, in an
instant, a storm of lead and iron swept down upon the Lancashire men.
Some leapt into the water, and were caught by the hidden entanglement
there. The foremost hurled themselves ashore, and struggled with the
terrible wire, compared with which our British barbed wire is as cotton
to rope. In vain the first line hacked and tore. Machines and rifles
mowed them flat as with a scythe. Witnesses eagerly watching from the
distant ships asked each other, “What are they resting for?” But they
were dead.
[Sidenote: THE LANDING EFFECTED]
Fortunately two of the tows, carrying a company, with which was
General S. W. Hare, C.O. of this 86th Brigade, put to shore a little
to the left of the central beach, and found shelter under a ledge
of rock at the foot of Cape Tekke cliff. Here they escaped the
cross-fire, and were able partly to enfilade the enemy’s trenches.
The Brigadier-General was severely wounded, either at this time or a
little later, but part of the company succeeded in scrambling up the
rocks in front of them to the summit, and a party from three tows to
the right of the beach were equally successful upon the Cape Helles
side.[89] Meanwhile the covering warships had moved close in to bombard
the trenches along the edge of the summit, and the beach entanglements
were at last broken. The companies, re-formed under cover of the cliffs
on both sides of the beach, chiefly to the left, and supported by the
arrival of further tows, began the assault on the highest point of the
plateau above the bay (known as Hill 138, about the spot where the
military cemetery was afterwards laid out). In the centre the assault
was made with bayonets only, the rifles being clogged with sand. By
11.30 three trenches had been taken--in spite of the explosion of many
land mines--the point was occupied, and communication established with
the landing-party at X Beach, to be afterwards described.[90]
Similarly, a small party of Lancashire Fusiliers succeeded in
scrambling to the summit of the cliff on the right above Cape Helles,
but were there held up by the redoubts and entanglements, and there
they lost Major Frankland, Brigade-Major of the 86th. No further
advance could be made till 2 p.m., when, owing to the positions held
by the companies on the left, the landing had become fairly secure.
Colonel Woolly-Dod, of the Divisional General Staff, then took
the place of General Hare in command, and the Worcester and Essex
Regiments were sent to reinforce the covering party. Following a
heavy naval bombardment they advanced, the Essex leading, cut passages
through the entanglements, and after two hours’ contest captured the
redoubt, though with heavy loss.
An attempt was then made to relieve the terrible situation at V Beach
by advancing along the top of the headland north-east. Lancashire and
Royal Fusiliers from W and X Beaches came over in small parties to
assist the Worcesters. The distance to V Beach was not great--barely
half a mile--and if it could have been covered, the enemy must have
abandoned their V Beach trenches. Wire-cutters fearlessly advanced.
From headquarters on the _Queen Elizabeth_ they could be watched,
clipping the powerful entanglements as though pruning a garden at home.
But the rows of wire were too thick, the fire from the ruins of No.
1 Fort too deadly. Exhausted by a sleepless night and the hot day’s
fighting, these bravest of men abandoned the attempt, and sought rest
in the trenches along the summit of the cliffs now deserted by the
enemy. Violent counter-attacks were repeated through the night. Except
the Anson Battalion beach-party and a company of sappers, there were
no available reserves. But the lines defending W Beach were held, and
the landing of stores, rations, and water in kerosine tins (for the
Divisional supply of which General Hunter-Weston’s Staff had provided)
began without interruption. Part of the remainder of the division also
disembarked, and the sappers set to work at constructing the road which
afterwards wound up the dusty ascent from the beach to the plateau.
[Sidenote: LANDING AT X BEACH]
If one could scramble round the foot of Cape Tekke till the face of the
cliff looking westward towards the Ægean and Gulf of Xeros was reached,
rather over half a mile along the sea-washed rocks, one would come to
a narrow strip of sand about 200 yards long. The cliff above it is
lower and less steep, the surface soft and crumbling. This is X Beach,
to be known afterwards as “Implacable Landing,” owing to the fine
service of the guardian battleship _Implacable_ (15,000 tons, 1901;
Captain Lockyer). Here half the battalion of the 2nd Royal Fusiliers
was disembarked from the _Implacable_ in four tows of six boats each,
the battleship advancing in the centre of them with anchor hanging over
the bows to six fathoms, when it dragged. Captain Lockyer opened fire
upon the slope and summit of the cliffs at very short range with every
available gun, and under this protection the half-battalion landed with
small loss. Using the same tows as they returned empty, the second
half-battalion followed from two mine-sweepers. But the advanced party
were already swarming up the face of the cliffs under Lieut.-Colonel
Newenham (C.O., 2nd Royal Fusiliers). At the summit the fire from
rifles, machine-guns, and shrapnel was very heavy. Securing his left
with one company, and the front with part of another, and leaving one
company to bring up ammunition and water, Colonel Newenham proceeded
to effect communication with the Lancashire Fusiliers on W Beach. This
was accomplished by a violent bayonet attack up the height on the top
of Cape Tekke (Hill 114). In this attack the remainder of the battalion
was engaged, encouraged by cheers from the _Implacable_, so close
to shore had the ship put in. After heavy loss, the summit was taken
about noon, and Royal Fusiliers shared with the W Beach troops in the
endeavour to relieve V Beach. But meantime the centre above X Beach was
severely threatened; Colonel Newenham was wounded; and the situation
was only saved by the arrival of the 1st Borderers and the 1st
Inniskilling Fusiliers of the 87th Brigade, whose Brigadier, General
Marshall, had also been wounded.[91]
[Sidenote: Y2 AND Y BEACHES]
Rather less than a mile farther up the coast from X Beach one comes
to a wide opening in the cliffs, known at that time as Y2, and later
as Gully Beach. Along the shore it could be reached by climbing over
rocks, but there was then no path. Along the summit it was easily
reached by the usual Turkish tracks from the high ground at Cape Helles
and Cape Tekke, but these tracks, like the rest of the Peninsula
inland, were hidden from the sea by the slope of the ground from the
edge towards the centre. The opening is caused partly by a short gully
running from the summit almost at right angles to the beach, but
especially by a long, deep gully, or “cañon,” coming down from the
Krithia direction, and running for about three miles almost parallel
with the sea, from which its existence is entirely concealed. In dry
weather it shows a trickle of water in some places; after rain it
becomes the bed of a torrent or a channel of liquid mud. Owing to our
want of trustworthy maps, its course was at that time unknown, but it
came to be called the Gully Ravine, or the Gully simply (in Turkish,
Saghir Dere). Its depth might conceal an army in ambush, and its
issue upon the shore forms a broad, flat beach, commanded by heights
in a semicircle fronting the sea. Here the Turks had massed large
forces of infantry, deeply entrenched, and supported by machine and
Hotchkiss guns. Formidable as the position was, it could hardly have
been stronger than V or W Beach, and one may conclude it was refused by
the General in command mainly for want of men to storm another point
at which the enemy would naturally expect attack. Perhaps also he
considered the position not far enough removed from Helles to turn the
defences there and threaten the line of retreat.
About two miles farther up the coast there is another beach known to
the end of the campaign as Y. The navy put it at 7000 yards from Cape
Tekke. So small is it, and the cleft or dry waterfall which forms it
so steep and narrow, that the Turks had neglected the position as
unassailable. Nevertheless, lying south-west from Krithia village, and
about four miles from Cape Helles, it was chosen as a protection to our
left flank and a threat to the enemy’s line of communication, or of
retreat in the event of his withdrawal from the end of the Peninsula.
It was intended to serve the same purpose as De Tott’s Battery (Eski
Hissarlik) upon our extreme right, and, if it were securely held, its
value was obvious.
The 1st King’s Own Scottish Borderers and one company of the
South Wales Borderers had been detailed for this service, but the
Commander-in-Chief added the Plymouth (Marine) Battalion, R.N.D.,
on account of the importance of the position, or because the
landing-party was beyond reach of reinforcement. The _Goliath_,
_Sapphire_, and _Amethyst_ were the conducting ships, and at the first
light the troops were put ashore by trawlers with four tows. They had
to leap out into deep water owing to reefs, but reached the shore
without opposition, and at once climbed the precipitous watercourse and
cliffs on each side. The battleship _Goliath_ shelled only the reported
emplacements near X Beach, hoping to delude. But Turkish snipers
immediately set to work, and the fire became more and more searching
as the day went on. Still there was no organised attack, and the men
dug shallow and far-extended trenches along the summit on both sides
of the deep ravine, the Marine Battalion on the left, the K.O.S.B.
in the centre, the S.W. Borderers on the right. Colonel Matthews of
the Plymouth Battalion was in command throughout, but his second in
command, Colonel Koe (K.O.S.B.), was mortally wounded early in the day.
It was impossible to fulfil Staff orders by gaining touch with X Beach,
because communication was shut off by the powerful Turkish force at
Y2--a misfortune which might have been foreseen. During the afternoon,
the sniping developed into assault. Turks were seen swarming out from
Krithia, and others probably came up from Y2 along the Gully Ravine
(Saghir Dere), which at this point is only a short distance away, and
was hitherto unknown to our men.
[Sidenote: THE FAILURE AT Y BEACH]
At twilight the repeated assaults increased in violence. Under the
rising moon, line after line of Turks advanced, at some points reaching
the trenches before they were cut down. Sir Ian mentions a pony led
right through the trenches with a machine-gun on his back, and an
eye-witness saw a German officer killed by a blow from a shovel as,
with grenade in hand, he called upon a trench to surrender. All night
the savage conflict continued, the Turks charging with religious
courage, our men driving them back with the bayonet when the rifles
became foul and choked with dirt. But just before daylight the shrapnel
terrifically increased, the Turks swarmed round in irresistible
crowds, the centre of the K.O.S.B. trenches was rushed, and the men
driven headlong down the gorge. Only those who know the nature of the
ground, the cliffs some 200 feet high, and the depth of the ravine,
half hidden by thick and prickly scrub, can realise the horror of that
scene, or the superb devotion of those who still remained to hold
the summit while the wounded were being carried on waterproof sheets
(without stretchers) down to the beach. More than half the officers and
nearly half the men were killed or wounded. By morning it had become
impossible to cling any longer to the position. Protected by a small
and heroic rearguard, and by the heavy fire of the ships _Goliath_,
_Talbot_, _Dublin_, _Sapphire_, and _Amethyst_, the wounded, the
stores, and the survivors of the two battalions and the S.W. Borderers
company were taken off by the boats and returned in the early afternoon
on the warships to the southern end of the Peninsula. In spite of the
heroism displayed, and in spite of the service in holding up a large
Turkish force for the critical twenty-four hours, the effort at Y Beach
failed, and the failure was serious.
About nine miles from Y Beach farther north along the coast, the
snub-nosed promontory of Gaba Tepe suddenly projects. It is of no
great height--just under 100 feet--but deep water washes the foot of
the steep and rugged cliffs, its caves and artificial tunnels concealed
guns which no shell could touch, and from those caves and tunnels
nearly the whole coast north and south could be enfiladed. North,
the coast falls into an open, gently sloping shore of quiet meadows
and scattered olive groves, crossed by a track to the Old Village
(Eski Keui) in the centre of the Peninsula, and so to Maidos on the
strait. Next to Bulair, this is the shortest way over, for it measures
less than five miles in a straight line. But on the right stands the
threatening plateau of Kilid Bahr, strongly held, and forming a central
base for the enemy’s army, and on the left rise the heights of Sari
Bair, intersected by inextricable entanglements of gully and ravine. At
the northern end of that gentle slope, rising like the fields around a
Lowland loch, just where the cliffs begin again, the main landing of
the Anzac corps was intended. Remembering the V and W Beaches, no one
can call any position impregnable to such men as ours; but the spot
was thickly wired from the water’s edge; it was fully exposed to the
guns hidden on Gaba Tepe, in an olive grove farther inland, and on
Kilid Bahr plateau itself; to advance over the gradual slope would have
meant advancing up an unsheltered glacis crossed by almost impenetrable
obstacles, in the face of entrenched and invisible machine-guns and
rifles. It was fortunate that man’s proposals here went astray.
[Sidenote: THE ANZAC ORDERS]
The object of the Anzac landing was to detain the Turkish forces
on Kilid Bahr plateau, to check the reinforcement of the southern
Peninsula by them or by other troops from the Bulair district,
and to threaten the Turkish line of retreat. The enemy’s forces in
these central regions were vaguely estimated at about 20,000; but
reconnaissance had been impossible, the country was unknown, except
in so far as it can be surveyed from the sea, and hitherto the Staff
had no maps even fairly trustworthy, as the maps afterwards found
on the bodies of Turkish officers were. The landing was officially
called Z Beach, but was always known as “Anzac,” and so history will
know it. As already stated, the covering force consisted of the 3rd
Australian Brigade under Colonel Sinclair Maclagan. It was conveyed
in four transports, but the first landing-party (about 1500 men) had
been transferred at Mudros to the warships _Queen_ (Admiral Thursby’s
flagship), the _London_, and the _Prince of Wales_. Twelve tows were
provided, each consisting of a steam pinnace and a trail of four
cutters or “lifeboats,” and carrying about 125 men.[92] As soon as the
first party had started in the tows, the remainder of the covering
party was to tranship from the transports into eight destroyers, and
to follow slowly towards shore until taken off by the returning tows,
three tows being allotted to each pair of destroyers. When the covering
brigade had made sure of the landing, the transports of the whole army
corps were to close in to shore and disembark. The _Triumph_, the
_Majestic_, and the cruiser _Bacchante_ were to cover the landing by
gun-fire. As throughout the expedition, the entire organisation on the
water was directed by the navy, and the boats were commanded by boy
midshipmen, whose imperturbable calm in moments of extreme peril was,
from beginning to end, and at every crisis, only rivalled by the dogged
heroism of their crews.
[Illustration: POSITION AT ANZAC IN THE WEEKS FOLLOWING LANDING]
The whole force assembled at a point about half-way between Imbros and
the intended landing. It was 1.30 a.m. of the 25th. The smoke rising
against the westering moon probably betrayed their presence, but
they waited till the moon set behind the jagged mountains of Imbros
soon after three. As directed, the first tows were then manned, and
the three warships moved abreast slowly towards the shore, followed
by the trailing boats. At 4.10 a.m. they stopped, within about one
and a quarter mile of shore, and the tows moved slowly forward, the
destroyers following them at about half an hour’s interval. Probably it
was in that interval that the salutary mistake occurred. Whether misled
by ignorance of the coast and by the starlit darkness, or carried
unconsciously by a current which sets along shore towards the Gulf of
Xeros, the tows approached land rather more than a mile north of the
appointed landing. The beach to which they made is a shallow arc of
sand stretching for about half a mile between two small projections
in the coast-line--Ari Burnu to the north, and what the Australians
called Hell Spit to the south. One deep ravine, starting from an
almost precipitous cliff (to be known as “Plugge’s Plateau”) divides
the arc near the northern extremity at right angles to the shore; but
confusedly broken and steep, though not absolutely precipitous, ground
rises all around the cove--“Anzac Cove”--to a general height of over
200 feet. Wherever the ground--a mixture of soft sandstone and
marl--was not too steep for vegetation, it was then covered with thick
green or blackish scrub, chiefly prickly oak, difficult to penetrate,
and in places six feet high. In later months the scrub served as a
danger signal, for the spots where it remained were exposed to rifle or
shell-fire. Everywhere else it disappeared, leaving the yellow surface
bare.
[Sidenote: THE ANZAC LANDING]
The tows approached the beach in absolute silence. Trusting to the
cliffs, the Turks had neglected defence at this point, but for two
slight trenches--one close to the water’s edge, the second a little
up the height. Even these seem to have been left unmanned, for about
a battalion of Turks was dimly perceived running along the shore,
no doubt hurried up from the open ground where our landing had been
intended. Just before 5 a.m. they opened fire, and many of the soldiers
and crews were struck in the boats. The Australians made no answer,
but before the keels grated, leapt into water up to their chests, and
surged ashore. Throwing off their packs, they dashed straight with the
bayonet upon the enemy wherever they could see him. The two trenches
were carried with a rush, and still the men charged on. They began to
struggle up the gully and the steep ascent on its right (afterwards
called Maclagan’s Ridge). The tows returned for the remainder of
the brigade on the destroyers, and these men joined in the rush and
scramble. Some of the tows crossed each other, and added to the excited
confusion. Some, either for want of space or yielding to the current,
passed north of Ari Burnu and attempted a landing on the broad and
open beach beside fishermen’s huts, standing almost in front of
the perpendicular and strangely shaped cliff afterwards called “The
Sphinx.” Here they suffered terrible loss from rifles and machine-guns;
for this beach, gradually broadening out till it merges into the
open, marshy plain at the mouth of Anafarta Biyuk valley, extends to
Suvla and the Salt Lake, and the Turks were here prepared to oppose a
landing. A few of the boats went adrift, having no men left to control
them. One at least swayed with the current, full of dead. Several had
to be left for some days aground against the beach, full also of dead.
[Sidenote: THE ANZAC ADVANCE]
Crossing the top of Maclagan’s Ridge, the scattered groups of the 3rd
Brigade suddenly looked down into a deep valley running right across
their advance. It was the hidden valley afterwards known as Shrapnel
Gully. From its issue upon the beach just south of Hell Spit, it runs
up north-east for something over a mile through the very heart of the
subsequent position. Many gullies and small watercourses (all dry
except after heavy rain) lead into it, and it afterwards became the
chief means of communication with the outposts along the centre of
the Anzac lines. Down into this valley the 3rd Brigade plunged. The
thick bushes and devious watercourses split them up. Battalions and
companies lost touch in haphazard advance. Shrapnel from the opposite
height and both flanks swept the valley in bursting storms. From the
rear and every side, hidden snipers picked the isolated men off as they
struggled forward. Officers fell. Orders ceased. In separate knots,
without leading or control, the men ran, and leapt, and stumbled on.
Right across the valley they struggled, shouting their battle-song,
“Australia will be there,” bayoneting all Turks they caught, and
cursing as they fell. Up the opposing heights they climbed--heights so
steep on the face that, later in the campaign, steps had to be cut for
paths, and supplies were hauled up by pullies. Over the top of that
steep ridge the groups charged on. Many got farther than Anzacs were
ever to go again. Some looked down into the valleys where the nearest
Turkish camps of Koja Dere and Boghali stood. Many disappeared for ever
into the unknown wilderness. “They refused to surrender,” the Turks
said at the armistice of a month later--“they refused to surrender, so
we had to kill them all.”
In a contest of such confusion, the thought of time is lost, and it
becomes impossible to trace the course of consecutive events. But
early in the morning--some say at 5.30, others about 9.30--there was
a pause in the firing for about an hour. The Turks appear to have
been overwhelmed by the dash and violence of an assault such as that
leisurely and dreamy race had never imagined. It seems to have been
about this time that Major Brand (Brigade-Major of the 3rd Brigade)
with a party of the 9th (Queensland) and 10th (South Australian)
battalions, standing on one of the sharp crests, and seeing a redoubt
and earthworks upon a hillside below, charged down the valley and
captured a battery of three Krupp guns. The Turks, after the pause,
were then advancing to their first counter-attack, and the Australians
were compelled to spike and destroy the guns instead of getting them
away. But it was a serviceable deed.
[Sidenote: THE ANZAC POSITIONS]
So soon as it was light, the guns hidden on Gaba Tepe and hidden
guns on some hill to the north poured converging shrapnel upon the
boats coming to shore, and upon the beach itself, although it was
to some extent protected by Hell Spit and Ari Burnu. The _Triumph_
and _Bacchante_ succeeded in keeping down the fire from Gaba Tepe
at intervals, but it repeatedly burst out again with fury. Under
this recurrent storm of shell, the 1st (New South Wales) and the
2nd (Victoria) Brigades, closely followed by two brigades of the
New Zealand and Australian Division (the New Zealand and the 4th
Australian), put to shore. All had landed soon after midday, and two
batteries of Indian mountain guns came into action. But the losses were
severe, and the shelling so heavy that the remaining artillery could
not be landed. In the extremity of peril and excitement, battalions
and brigades became hopelessly mixed up, and many groups lost touch
with units and officers. But for the most part, the 2nd Brigade
appears to have climbed to the right of the 3rd or covering brigade,
to have crossed the long (Shrapnel) gully nearer its mouth, and to
have advanced up the continuation of the farther ridge towards the
point afterwards called M‘Laurin Hill (Colonel M‘Laurin being C.O. of
the Victorians). The 1st Brigade appears to have supported the 3rd,
and held a position on its left, probably near “Pope’s Hill.” The
extreme left of the whole position, which gradually took the shape of
an irregular semicircle or triangle, was later occupied and held by
the joint Division of New Zealanders and Australians. Near the centre
the Auckland Battalion under Colonel Plugge held “Plugge’s Plateau,”
overlooking the beach. To the left, the New Zealanders stormed the
steep ridge afterwards known as “Walker’s,” from Brigadier-General
H. B. Walker, of the General Staff. Just beyond “The Sphinx” it rises
steeply from the beach to a height which faces the sea in a sheer
precipice of 150 feet, and its long summit became the main line of
defence on the north and north-east. Moving still farther left, over a
broad beach (“Ocean Beach”) and fairly open ground, afterwards crossed
by the “Great Sap,” Captain Cribb with a party of New Zealanders rushed
a strong redoubt and store at the “Fishermen’s Huts” and established
the outlying position of “No. 1 Post.”
In the afternoon and early evening, the 4th Australian Brigade (2nd
Division) under Colonel Monash, apparently advancing from the beach
straight across the central ridge, filled in the dangerous gaps
between the Australian brigades on the right and the New Zealanders
on the left. The upper end of “Shrapnel Gully,” leading up to “Pope’s
Hill” between “Walker’s Ridge” and the steep farthest line of defence
afterwards held by “Quinn’s Post,” “Courtney’s” and “Steel’s,” was
accordingly known as “Monash Gully.”
By the evening the Anzac position, which varied little for the next
three months, was thus roughly drawn, and the names of the officers who
had seized the various points were vaguely attached to them. The whole
position was hardly more than three-quarters of a mile deep by a mile
and a half long, not counting the outpost by Fishermen’s Huts. In fact,
on the first day hardly more than a mile in length was gained. But to
the end it was almost impossible to realise how small the area was,
so steep are its heights and so entangling its valleys and ravines.
Entangled in those ravines, exhausted by scaling the heights, and lost
in the deep scrub of that unknown country, the Anzacs fought till dark
to maintain their plot of ground against repeated counter-attacks.
There was no time to dig in. From Koja Dere, Boghali, and Kilid Bahr
plateau, the Turks rolled up waves of reinforcement. It was estimated
that 20,000 came clashing against the 3rd Brigade and the left of the
2nd in the middle morning. The attack was renewed at 3 p.m. and again
at 5. Groups of Australians were driven back from the most advanced
positions; many were cut off and shot down. Only along the edge of the
heights beyond Shrapnel Valley a thin line held, growing hourly thinner.
In the afternoon, General Birdwood came ashore with the Divisional
Generals. The beach was a scene of wild and perilous confusion. Men,
stores, ammunition, and watercans were being dumped on the sand as
the boats brought them in. Parties loaded up with rations, water,
and cartridges were climbing out to supply the firing lines. In long
streams the wounded were staggering or being carried down to lie on the
beach till boats could take them off, at first to hospital ships, and
afterwards to any kind of ship which the navy could allot. For here, as
elsewhere, the casualties had been greatly underestimated. Originally
only two hospital ships had been provided for the whole attack, and
though the navy lent two more, the supply was not nearly adequate. On
the small beach, Colonel N. R. Howse (Assistant Director of Medical
Service to the Corps) hurriedly erected a dressing-station; but the
wounded, however heroic in their suffering, suffered much. And over the
whole scene, shrapnel crashed and shrieked perpetually, while the air
was filled with the tearing wail of bullets passing in thousands across
the beach from the cliffs above, and dropping like hail-stones upon
the boats and sea. At nightfall the Turks, shouting their battle-cry
of “Allah, Allah Din!” renewed the attack with intensified violence.
Appeals for reinforcement came pouring in. It seemed impossible to
hold on. Orders to prepare for evacuation were whispered from group to
group.[93]
[Sidenote: THE FEINT OFF BULAIR]
Still farther up the coast, at the head of the Gulf of Xeros, the Royal
Naval Division (less the Plymouth Battalion detailed for Y Beach) was
engaged upon a feint, as though a landing were intended either north of
the Bulair lines, or at Karachali on the opposite coast. Accompanied
by destroyers and the battleship _Canopus_ (Captain Grant) of Admiral
Thursby’s squadron, the division proceeded in its own transports.
The destroyers opened fire at Karachali and other points along the
shore. Towards nightfall the _Canopus_ bombarded the Bulair lines, and
preparations as though for a landing were ostensibly made. There was no
answer from the enemy, but silence never proved that their trenches
were not manned, and their guns ready. Later in the campaign one heard
rumours of a landing having been effected here without opposition by a
party of Marines, but the only man who went ashore was Lieut.-Commander
Bernard Freyberg of the Hood Battalion. Painted brown and thickly
oiled, he was dropped from a destroyer into a boat at 10 p.m. on the
24th and from the boat swam ashore, about two miles, carrying four
Homi flares and three oil flares. Landing at midnight, he crawled 400
yards up to a trench, and there heard talking, which proved that the
trenches were occupied. Crawling back, he lit three lots of flares a
quarter of a mile apart, along the shore in the direction of Bulair.
Two of the destroyers at once opened fire, and the Turks fired back.
Lieut.-Commander Freyberg then swam out, and was picked up an hour
later.
During the night the _Canopus_ was recalled to Anzac to support the
dubious contest there.
[Sidenote: THE FRENCH FEINT AT KUM KALI]
Another feint, on a much larger scale, was made by the French Division
upon the Asiatic entrance to the Straits. The object was partly to
hold a Turkish force, partly to check the fire from the Asiatic side
upon the S and V landings. For this purpose, General D’Amade selected
the 6th Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Noguès), mixed Senegalese and Lyons
men, of the Brigade Coloniale, supported by the _Jeanne d’Arc_ and
the Russian cruiser _Askold_ (called the “Woodbines,” because she has
five thin funnels close together, like the five cigarettes in a penny
“Woodbine” packet). At the same time, the remainder of the French
squadron was ordered to Besika Bay, five or six miles south of the
point. Landing from the boats of their own transports, the infantry
captured Kum Kali and Yenishehr villages after severe fighting, taking
about 600 prisoners. In spite of violent counter-attacks, they held on
through that night and the following day, not advancing farther along
the coast than the mouth of the Mendere, but drawing the fire of the
Asiatic guns, and thus defending both our transports and landings.
The action was in every respect successful, but the regiment was
re-embarked after nightfall on the 26th in accordance with pre-arranged
plans, since Lord Kitchener had forbidden Asiatic adventures. The
French lost 167 killed, 459 wounded, and 116 missing. They put the
Turkish casualties at 2000, apart from prisoners.[94]
When night came, the small force at De Tott’s Battery (Eski Hissarlik)
was fairly secure; the landing at V Beach had failed, and the few
survivors ashore were barely sheltered from extreme peril by the low
bank of sand; W Beach was held, but the partially entrenched troops on
the plateau which protected it were exposed to repeated attack; X Beach
was comparatively safe, owing to dead ground and the _Implacable’s_
guns, and connection with W had been established; in shallow trenches
above the ravine on Y Beach the diminishing companies desperately clung
to the ground, but were exposed to irresistible numbers; at Z Beach
(Anzac) the cove and a rough triangle of unexplored cliffs and ravines
were barely held against persistent onsets; near Bulair the feint was
probably successful in holding a certain number of Turkish troops, and
Captain Freyberg was lighting his flares, a daring and lonely figure;
at Kum Kali the French were fulfilling their task, but under orders to
withdraw. Of the three Brigadier-Generals in the 29th Division, one had
been killed and the other two wounded. Upon those scenes of anguish and
death, of scarcely endurable anxiety and a self-devotion unsurpassed in
any annals, the Sabbath evening closed, but scarcely for one moment did
the tumult of battle cease.
CHAPTER VI
THE TEN DAYS AFTER
Throughout the long and anxious hours of the 25th, while the fate of
his army hung uncertain, the Commander-in-Chief was compelled to remain
on board the _Queen Elizabeth_ with his Headquarter Staff. There was
no place for him ashore. In modern warfare a commanding General cannot
allow himself to become entangled in one part of the widely-extended
front or in another. When once his dispositions have been made and
his orders issued, the control passes out of his hands; and the more
complete his dispositions and orders have been, the less is the part
he is justified in taking upon himself. He can but await the result,
listening anxiously to reports as they come. The wretchedness of such
a position, for a soldier born to lead forlorn hopes or to command
the rush of onset, was here increased by the sea. At no point was it
possible even to remain on land without losing touch with all the other
points. Only at sea could communication be maintained and reports
delivered. The Commander-in-Chief was reduced to a position of inactive
but restless security, all the more pitiable because, from the shelter
of the great battleship, telescopes revealed incidents of heroic
resolution in which it was impossible to share.
The day passed. In the evening the _Queen Elizabeth_ flung a violent
bombardment upon the defences of V Beach, bringing renewed courage to
the line of survivors still crouching under the bank. At midnight, Sir
Ian was called upon to take a decision as rapid as vital. It has been
already mentioned that rumours of evacuation went round Anzac cove at
sunset. The men were much exhausted by prolonged fighting, extreme
danger, and heavy loss; the battalions were mixed; ammunition was
running short; water, though brought ashore in boats, and already found
by digging in one or two places, was scarce, and had to be carried up
the cliffs on men’s backs; the wounded--over 2000 in number--though
energetically tended, as already mentioned, and taken off rapidly to
any available ship, still lay thick on the beach, or came dribbling
back from the heights; along the bit of coast, over sea and shore,
the shrapnel crashed and whirled perpetually; brave as the Anzacs
had proved themselves, they were new to battle. If evacuation was
unavoidable, now, at night, was the only possible time.
Sir Ian’s decision was unhesitating. The Turks were actually pressing
upon the Anzac lines. Evacuation could not remain secret, and would
take many hours. It would involve incalculable slaughter on the shore
and in the boats. It meant defeat. It meant withdrawal such as Lord
Kitchener had specially ordered him never to consider. It meant a
breach in any high-spirited soldier’s instinct. The command was quick.
Let them dig for their lives. Let them cling on like tigers. Help would
come in the morning.
[Sidenote: HOW ANZAC WAS HELD]
And in the morning help came. Just after daylight the _Queen
Elizabeth_ herself appeared off Anzac cove. For three hours she threw
her huge shrapnel from 15-in. guns, each shell flinging out a cone of
some 13,000 bullets far to both sides and front.[95] The _Triumph_ and
_Bacchante_ supported her. The Anzacs, outworn by the night struggle
against repeated charges, stood their ground with courage renewed.
Along the very edge of the steep cliff or ridge on the farther side of
Shrapnel Gully they furiously dug. Battalions and brigades remained
still confused. Men and groups fought or dug where they were wanted
at the nearest line. By extreme effort thus was gradually formed that
famous arc, or more properly triangle, which contained the Anzac of the
next three months. It had the beach as base, Pope’s Hill near the apex
(where a dangerous gap remained), Walker’s Ridge as one irregular side,
and the long and devious line through Quinn’s Post, M‘Laurin’s Hill,
and Bolton’s Hill to the coast as the other side, more irregular still.
The trenches began to afford some cover from shrapnel. A few 18-pounder
guns were dragged up hastily constructed paths, and placed right in
the firing line. But so continuous were the Turkish counter-attacks
throughout the whole of Monday and the greater part of Tuesday the 27th
that little attempt at reorganising the brigades was possible, the
only recognisable distribution being that as a whole the Australians
held the right side of the triangle, and the New Zealanders the left.
Even within our lines many Turkish snipers continued for some days
hidden in the scrub, maintained there by bags of provisions and
cartridges brought with them to the lairs. The main or Shrapnel Gully
was especially exposed to snipers of this kind and to more regular fire
from the Nek, a narrow connecting link between the chief Anzac ridges
and the main range of Sari Bair. To the last the southern end of the
gully on its right side was so harassed by rifle fire that it retained
its thick coating of scrub, as being too dangerous for dug-outs or any
movement of men. For this reason the gully was sometimes called by the
longer name of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and it appears to
have been while reconnoitring here that Colonel M‘Laurin, Brigadier of
the 1st Brigade, and Major Irvine, his Brigade-Major, were killed side
by side.[96]
The more regular attacks were chiefly aimed at the apex, near the top
of the gully, between Pope’s Hill and Quinn’s Post. The dominating
position of Pope’s Hill had been stormed early on Sunday by a party of
the 1st Battalion, and was taken over that evening by Colonel Pope with
a mixed force of 400 men, who proceeded to entrench it as the valuable
fortress which it remained. Quinn’s Post, always a point of danger,
being within a few yards of the enemy’s line, was gallantly held for
the first three days by a party of the 14th Battalion, and on Wednesday
(28th) was taken over by Major Quinn (15th Battalion).[97]
On Wednesday (April 28) the general reorganisation and sifting out of
Anzac could begin, but no attempt to reach the objective of Koja Chemen
Tepe (Hill 971, the highest point of the Sari Bair range) or to cross
the Peninsula to Maidos could then be made. In the fighting of Sunday
and Monday alone, the three Australian brigades had lost 4500 killed
and wounded. By Wednesday, at least one-fifth of the total force was
out of action. Fortunately for General Birdwood, the Anzacs could fill
up many gaps by the ten per cent. margin usually allotted to divisions
on active service, but refused to Sir Ian’s troops from home. Hardly
any amount of untried formations can reinforce an army in action so
serviceably as drafts added to divisions which have proved their
quality on the field, as the 29th had proved theirs.
[Sidenote: ADVANCE FROM V BEACH]
By early afternoon of Monday the 26th, the position at the south end
of the Peninsula had greatly improved. After dark on the previous
evening, the remainder of the landing force on V Beach had come
ashore, as already narrated, and though exposed to a violent outbreak
of fire under the clear moonlight about 1.30 a.m., they had found
better cover among the rocks at the foot of old Seddel Bahr castle. At
daylight, Admiral Wemyss opened a heavy bombardment upon the castle,
village, and slopes of the semicircular theatre. Thus encouraged, the
wearied relics of the Hampshires and Dublin and Munster Fusiliers
prepared for advance. To such an advance they were largely inspired
by Lieutenant-Colonel Doughty-Wylie and Lieutenant-Colonel Williams
of the Headquarter Staff, who, as narrated, had remained under the
parapet of sand all night to keep the men in good heart. Only magic
personality can organise a fresh assault out of hungry and thirsty men,
who have for the most part been lying under almost continuous fire for
twenty-four hours, and who leave more than half of their friends lying
dead or wounded behind them. Yet it was done. Led by Doughty-Wylie
and Captain Walford (Brigade-Major, 29th Divisional Artillery), the
men fought their way up into the village under a stream of rifle and
machine-gun fire, and from the village advanced to the attack of the
plateau above it. On the slope Captain Walford was killed. Between
the village and the summit, fearlessly leading the men forward,
Doughty-Wylie, a noble type of English soldier and administrator, was
killed in like manner.[98] Irreparable as was the loss of that knightly
figure, the attack pushed onward. By 2 p.m. Hill 141, the old castle,
and the battered village were securely gained. On the south-west side
of the theatre, connection with W Beach was confirmed, and V Beach
became a fairly safe landing-place at last.
[Illustration:
_Beresford_]
LIEUT.-COLONEL C. H. H. DOUGHTY-WYLIE]
[Sidenote: THE FRENCH AT V BEACH]
That evening and next day the French Corps began to disembark upon that
scene of death and persistent courage. To the end of the campaign,
V Beach remained the French landing-place and depôt for stores. The
French constructed a solid pier out to the bow of the _River Clyde_,
and kept also a gangway of lighters for approach to the floating
platforms under shelter of her port side. A British naval and a
military officer remained on board to direct the landing of troops
or stores and the embarkation of the wounded. The ship’s bridge was
fortified with sandbags, and as forming a north-east breakwater to the
small harbour the old collier performed useful service. Though fully
exposed to the Asiatic guns, she was rarely shelled, perhaps because
her funnel served as a guide to the gunners for dropping over the
headland heavy shells which burst upon W Beach. This they sometimes
did with deadly success. The remainder of V Beach and the sandy
theatre above it the French organised with characteristic exactness
and practical skill. Stores were arranged in faultless piles, and a
light railway for bringing up stone was laid along the shore to the
cliff of Cape Helles. The old castle served as a depôt for ammunition.
Compressed forage was piled up to limit the effect of shell-fire. In
everything except “sanitation” the arrangement of the French lines
surpassed ours. They were forbidden to our officers and men, but
between adjacent battalions friendly communication was frequent, and
by simple barter our tedious ration of apricot jam was frequently
exchanged for the French ration of a light red wine, though these
articles of exchange were received with scornful hilarity by each side.
On the 27th, two days after the landing, the whole line was able to
advance without opposition so as to cover all the landing beaches
except Y, which had so unfortunately been abandoned under extreme
pressure of numbers. The strong Turkish position at the mouth of the
Gully Ravine (“Gully Beach,” or “Y2”) was found deserted. The Turks
had withdrawn farther up the ravine, their flanks being now exposed
to an advance of the Royal Fusiliers from X or “Implacable Landing.”
At Gully Beach the left or western end of our line was accordingly
fixed, and the line extended for about three miles to the right, across
the Peninsula to the point S, or Eski Hissarlik. This point was soon
afterwards taken over by the French, who now put four battalions on
their front. The expansion of ground left room for a landing of stores
and guns upon the beaches, and also slightly increased the water
supply, a few old wells being discovered within the area, and new wells
dug. But, owing to the heavy losses, the men holding the front made but
a thin line of defence, and the want of water, here as at all points
throughout the campaign, remained a perpetual anxiety.
[Sidenote: KRITHIA AND THE SOUTHERN PENINSULA]
Worn out as his men were by Wednesday (the 28th) morning, almost
deprived of sleep since the Saturday before, reduced by heavy loss,
especially in officers, and calling in vain for reinforcements to
fill up their ranks, Sir Ian resolved to press forward upon the Turks
while they were still disorganised. At 8 a.m. a general advance was
ordered, the 29th Division moving forward on the left and centre,
with the deserted village of Krithia as objective, the French on the
right aiming to reach the western or right slope of Kereves Dere, a
broad and deep valley which runs down from the foot of Achi Baba and
issues into the strait about a mile above De Tott’s Battery (Eski
Hissarlik). Next to Seddel Bahr, the village of Krithia was the largest
collection of houses upon the end of the Peninsula. It stands on the
gradual slope leading up to Achi Baba, about four and a half miles from
Cape Helles, whence its grey walls and squat windmills are distinctly
visible. The land between the high plateau at Helles and the approaches
to Achi Baba falls from both ends into a long and shallow scoop, like
the inside of a flattish spoon. On the Ægean, or Xeros side, the rim
of the spoon looks fairly complete, though in fact it is broken at
the Gully Beach by the mouth of that long and hidden valley of Saghir
Dere or Gully Ravine. On the side of the strait the rim is much less
obvious, being broken at Morto Bay by the combined watercourses which
drain the western and central slopes of Achi Baba, and farther north
by the Kereves Dere. At the time of landing, the centre, or scoop of
the spoon, was still bright with grass and aromatic plants. Olive trees
were scattered over it, and here and there thin woods of stunted fir.
At one spot, near the bottom of the curve, rose large trees like elms,
which afforded a welcome grove of shade to the Royal Naval Division’s
headquarters during the greater part of the campaign. On the whole, the
French lines on our right were rather more thickly wooded than ours. At
rare intervals stood the ruins of some isolated cottage, surrounded by
a patch of cultivation for maize or vines.
Almost exactly down the centre ran the Krithia road from Seddel Bahr,
having the “Achi Baba nullah,” which runs into Morto Bay, close on
the right. Almost parallel to the road, at an average distance of 300
yards to the left or west side, runs the main or “Krithia” gully, which
drains the greater part of the central scoop, and also issues into
Morto Bay. A track, which became a road, ran beside this gully as far
as a dividing-point, called “Clapham Junction,” where the trickle of
water branched into East Krithia and West Krithia nullahs. Almost every
yard of this wide scoop of land was fully exposed to the guns on Achi
Baba, and some of it to the Asiatic guns as well. In consequence, as
the campaign continued, it rapidly became covered with a network of
trenches and dug-outs, looking like a vast graveyard, and terminating
in an almost inextricable maze at the front, where it was checked by
the Turkish system, equally elaborated. Except close to the front,
however, transport and other communications were always carried on
above ground; the grass was turned into sandy waste, and the paths
into roads thick with dust. About half-way between Cape Helles and
Krithia, the Peninsula was cut right across from sea to strait by the
Eski or Old Line, which crossed the Gully Ravine near Gully Farm, and
the Krithia nullah about 250 yards north of Clapham Junction, and ended
about a third of a mile below the mouth of Kereves Dere.
[Sidenote: ADVANCE OF APRIL 28]
Over this slightly hollow plain, and these roads and gullies then
unnamed, the advance of April 28 was made. The 87th Brigade led upon
the left or seacoast flank, and penetrated rapidly over the open
ground almost parallel to the Gully Ravine for nearly two miles. As
the K.O.S.B. and S.W. Borderers had been separately engaged at Y and S
Beaches, the Drake Battalion, R.N.D., took their place, the remainder
of the brigade consisting only of the 1st Border Regiment and 1st
Inniskillings. The 88th Brigade was on their right; the 86th, which
had covered the first landings, was held in reserve under Colonel
Casson (S.W. Borderers). In spite of weariness and the prolonged shock
of battle, the relics of this unsurpassed Division advanced sturdily
against increasing opposition; but by midday their progress was
stopped. Small parties came within a short distance of Krithia, but
the 86th Brigade reinforced them in vain. There is a human limit even
for the bravest; ammunition ran short, and could not be brought up;
and only a few guns had yet been landed. The brigades, accordingly,
made a rough line conforming with the 88th in the centre, and the
hope of reaching Achi Baba faded, though near fulfilment. The French
on our right had reached the approaches to Kereves Dere, but an
attempt to advance towards Krithia failed. In the afternoon the Turks
counter-attacked with the bayonet, and the French line shook. A rapid
retirement exposed the Worcesters to heavy loss on their right flank,
and a line had to be rapidly secured from a point about three miles
up the coast from Tekke Bornu to a point about a mile farther up the
strait than De Tott’s Battery. Here it rested, and two days were spent
in strengthening the defences and sorting out the confused battalions.
In order to encourage the worn-out divisions (for it was impossible
for any soldiers to maintain the spirit of the first landing without
flagging), Sir Ian issued the following order on April 29:
“I rely on all officers and men to stand firm and steadfastly to
resist the attempts of the enemy to drive us back from our present
position which has been so gallantly won.
“The enemy is evidently trying to obtain a local success before
reinforcements can reach us; but the first portion of these arrive
to-morrow, and will be followed by a fresh Division from Egypt.
“It behoves us all, French and British, to stand fast, hold what we
have gained, wear down the enemy, and thus prepare for a decisive
victory.”
[Sidenote: A TURKISH COUNTER-ATTACK]
The enemy was not long in taking up the challenge. On the 29th, Sir Ian
visited the front lines at Helles and Anzac with his personal staff.
Next day he visited the British position at Helles again, and on May
1 the French lines in the same manner. There he found the trenches
in the firing line incomplete compared with ours, but the celebrated
“75’s” were already in action, and from that time onwards the French
gunners, never being stinted in shells, were the envy as well as the
admiration of our artillery. On May 1 also the promised reinforcements
began to arrive, the 29th Indian Infantry Brigade from Egypt, under
Major-General Sir Herbert Cox, being the first comers. Hardly had they
taken their position as reserve, with some battalions of the R.N.D.,
when, in the darkness before the waning moon had risen, the Turks
began a furious attack upon the whole French and British front. The
Turks’ enthusiasm in defence of their splendid city (for the fate
of Constantinople was involved) had been further stimulated by the
following proclamation over the signature of their German commandant,
General von Löwenstern:
“Attack the enemy with the bayonet and utterly destroy him!
“We shall not retire one step; for, if we do, our religion, our
country, and our nation will perish!
“Soldiers! The world is looking at you! Your only hope of salvation
is to bring this battle to a successful issue or gloriously to give
up your life in the attempt.”
The Turks responded to this appeal with unusual hardihood in
attack, and it was evident that the best Nizam troops were now on
the Peninsula. For this attack 16,000 were employed, with 2000 in
reserve.[99] They came on in three solid lines. All crawled on hands
and knees till the word was given, and the front was allowed no
cartridges, but bayonets only. Their first charge aimed in the centre
at the 86th Brigade, so much shaken by loss of men and officers. Here
they forced a gap, dangerous had not the 5th Royal Scots at once
filled it. This battalion (88th Brigade), under Lieutenant-Colonel
J. D. R. Wilson, was the only Territorial unit in the 29th Division.
It was anxious to prove itself worthy of that unequalled corps, and
now it proved itself. Facing to their right flank, the men charged
with the bayonet, the Essex (of the same brigade) supporting them.
The next attack fell heavily upon the Senegalese, immediately on our
right. Two battalions of the Worcesters (also 88th Brigade) were sent
to strengthen the line, and later in the night one R.N.D. battalion
reinforced the extreme right of the French.
Between 11 p.m. and 2 a.m., the conflict appeared strangely terrific.
The boom and flash of guns, the ceaseless repetition of machine-guns
and rifles, the shouts of “Allah! Allah!” answered by British cheers
and the yells of savage Africans, the liquid brilliance of star shells,
the Bengal lights, red, white, and green, fired by Turkish officers
from their pistols as signals to their gunners to lengthen range, or
to avoid firing on taken trenches and main positions--all produced the
din and spectacle of some battle in hell, lit by infernal fireworks.
To spectators on the ships or the high ground in our rear, the scene
was the more terrible as the bursting shells and variegated lights came
farther and farther into the hollow land, down the centre of which the
Allies were being forced.
[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF THE 42ND DIVISION]
But with approaching light the worst was over, and at dawn the whole
of the Allied line advanced to counter-attack. The British forced
their way onward for about a quarter of a mile. But the French made no
progress. Machine-guns and barbed wire were used by the Turkish defence
with deadly result, and before noon the whole of our line was withdrawn
to its former position. It had been an appalling night for both forces,
and the Turks spent the next day burying their dead under the Red
Crescent. That night and the next (May 2 and 3) violent attacks were
repeated, especially upon the French front, and terrifying rumours of
disaster flew. On May 4 the 2nd Naval Brigade, R.N.D. (under Commodore
Backhouse, R.N.), took over part of the French line, and the whole
position was reorganised. Next day the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade
(East Lancashire Division) disembarked as welcome reinforcement. While
Sir Ian was in Egypt he had watched this Division (the 42nd) with
admiration, and now, by order from Lord Kitchener, General Maxwell sent
it in his support. Barely in time they began to arrive. The Division
was under command of Major-General Sir William Douglas, and consisted
of the Lancashire Fusiliers (125th Brigade), the East Lancashire
(126th), and the Manchester (127th). All were Territorials.[100]
While the British and French were thus strengthening their hold upon
the southern end of the Peninsula, the Anzacs clung desperately to
the rugged triangle which was to be “a thorn in the enemy’s side.”
By Friday, the 30th, units had been sorted out, the firing line was
reinforced by the 1st Light Horse Brigade (Brigadier-General Chauvel)
and by four battalions of the R.N.D. Part of the original fighting
line, worn out by continuous firing, digging, sleeplessness, and want
of warm food, was withdrawn into sheltered gullies to cook and rest.
For the next day (May 1) a general advance was ordered. The Australian
Division on the right was to make for the villages Koja Dere and
Boghali, the mixed Australian and New Zealand Division on the left
to attempt the main Sari Bair ridge, leading up to the dominating
heights of Chunuk and Koja Tepe. On the previous evening, however,
General Monash, commanding the 4th Brigade, and defending the serious
gap in the lines at the top of Shrapnel Gully, protested that such a
movement would only extend the gap still more dangerously. As it was,
the R.N.D. battalions, which had been thrust in to hold this gap at
the triangle’s apex, were at that moment very hard pressed, and after
further reconnoitring both General Godley and General Bridges appear
to have agreed that the contemplated advance was impracticable. At all
events it was not attempted.[101]
[Illustration: ANZAC COVE]
[Sidenote: ATTEMPT TO ADVANCE ANZAC LINES]
To close that gap at the apex was obviously the first essential move,
and on Sunday, May 2 (a week after the landing), a determined effort
was made. The objective was a round knoll, known as Baby 700, on
the slope of Sari Bair. It stood about three hundred yards beyond
the lines on Pope’s Hill, and its possession would have blocked the
entrance from which the enemy commanded large sections of Monash
Gully and Shrapnel Gully. The attempt began at 7 p.m. with a rapid
bombardment, and throughout the night the Australians of the 13th and
16th Battalions endeavoured to storm the terrible position. The Otago
Battalion was sent in support; then part of the Nelson (R.N.D.), and
after midnight the Portsmouth and Chatham (R.M.L.I.). The Australians
gained some trenches near the Bloody Angle, but the plateau had by
now been carefully fortified with wire and machine-guns. It was
impossible for our destroyers, firing up the length of Shrapnel Gully,
to distinguish friend from foe. Five shells, perhaps coming from
them, temporarily checked and divided the Portsmouth Battalion in its
advance. It was speedily rallied, but under the heavy machine-gun and
rifle fire no support was able to establish the position at the Bloody
Angle. Parties of the 13th, 16th, and Otago Battalions clung to the
edges of the steep ascent till far into May 3. But in the end, all
survivors returned to the original lines. The attempt failed, and it
cost 800 men.[102] On the following day (May 4) an effort to seize Gaba
Tepe and end the continuous loss inflicted by its shrapnel upon the
beach and upon bathers in Anzac Cove also failed, owing to the mass
and strength of wire along the edge of the sea. Meantime, the warships
had been continuously assisting all troops on sea and land. On the
27th the _Queen Elizabeth_, hearing from a seaplane that the _Goeben_
had ventured down the strait, apparently with the object of firing
over the Peninsula, forestalled that intention by dropping one of her
largest shells from near Gaba Tepe into the strait. Narrowly missed,
the _Goeben_ retired under shelter of the steep shore, but the _Queen
Elizabeth’s_ second shell sank a transport in the middle of the current.
By May 5 the phase of the landing was completed. A firm hold had been
gained upon the end of the Peninsula and at Anzac. The world’s history
had been enriched by hardly credible examples of courage, _élan_, and
the fortitude of endurance which Napoleon accounted a more valuable
quality in soldiers than courage and _élan_. But the objects specified
in the scheme of attack had not been gained. The Turks were still at
Krithia. They still held the lines drawn across the slopes of Achi
Baba. Koja Dere and Boghali were still far from the eager youths
clinging like flies to the Anzac cliffs. Maidos was farther beyond,
nor was the fleet a cable’s length nearer to the Narrows than before.
It was evident to all that the campaign, deprived of the incalculable
advantage of surprise by the hesitation, delay, and disapproval or
indifference at home, would now be long and costly in life. Already in
ten days the losses were officially reckoned:
Killed. Wounded. Missing.
Officers 177 412 13
Men 1990 7807 3580
These figures give a total casualty list of 13,979. The loss may be
realised by another table. On April 30 the Fusilier Brigade (86th) of
the 29th Division, out of a normal strength of 104 officers and about
4000 men, mustered as follows:
Officers. Men.
2nd Royal Fusiliers 12 481
1st Lancashire Fusiliers 11 399
1st Royal Munster Fusiliers 12 596
1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers 1 374
-- ----
36 1850[103]
[Sidenote: THE WOUNDED UNDERESTIMATED]
For no such numbers of casualties had estimate or preparation been
made. The casualties, in fact, amounted to something like three times
the estimate, and the treatment of the wounded became a serious, if
not insoluble, difficulty. In his dispatch, Sir Ian notices that his
“Administrative Staff had not reached Mudros by the time when the
landings were finally arranged.” We have seen that they did not reach
Alexandria from home till April 1; that they were left there to embark
the remaining troops and complete the base hospital arrangements, and
did not reach Mudros till April 18. The Administrative Staff included
Brigadier-General E. M. Woodward, who, as Deputy Adjutant-General, was
ultimately responsible for all questions of personnel and casualties.
And it included Surgeon-General W. E. Birrell, who, as Director of
Military Services, was immediately responsible for the treatment of
the wounded. In the absence of these officers, Sir Ian says “all the
highly elaborate work involved by these landings was put through by my
General Staff working in collaboration with Commodore Roger Keyes,” who
was Chief of the Staff to Admiral de Robeck. But Lieutenant-Colonel
A. E. C. Keble, R.A.M.C., Assistant Director of Medical Services,
reached Mudros before the chief officers of the Administrative Staff,
and to him, as above noticed, the scheme for dealing with the wounded
was due. Merely owing to a mistaken estimate of the enemy’s opposition,
the means provided were inadequate for the actual numbers. As we have
seen, only two hospital ships, each accommodating about 500 cases,
had been allotted for the army. The navy lent two more, and supplied
such transport as could now be spared, but these were not fitted with
hospital necessities. Doctors, nurses, and orderlies, all were short.
Army surgeons and stretcher-bearers displayed their fine devotion in
bringing the wounded to the beaches both at Helles and Anzac; but in
spite of the navy’s energy and fearlessness in control of the boats,
many of the wounded remained waiting long for treatment; in one case a
fleet-sweeper crowded with Australian wounded went wandering from ship
to ship in vain, and at last tied up against the General Headquarters
ship (at that time, May 9, the _Arcadian_, to which Sir Ian had
transferred); and upon the transports taking them to Alexandria--a
voyage of two to three days and nights--the wounded suffered much.
Many were unable to move without help, and no help was there. Most
had been treated only with first dressings. In some cases the wounds
corrupted. Many died. Warships, like the _Cornwallis_, afforded as much
room as they could, acting as clearing-stations for the wounded, and
transmitting the dead to a trawler which daily went round the fleet to
collect them.[104] The efforts of the fleet surgeons were untiring. But
no scheme and no effort could avail against a false estimate of the
enemy’s strength and defensive power. Rightly or wrongly, the campaign
had from the first been regarded in London as of secondary importance,
and secondary provision had been made for an estimate of secondary loss.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: AUTHORITIES]
My main authorities for this chapter, as for the last, have been the
Dispatches of Sir Ian Hamilton and Admiral de Robeck, Mr. Ashmead
Bartlett’s _Dispatches from the Dardanelles_, the late Phillip
Schuler’s _Australia in Arms_, the Rev. D. Creighton’s _With the
Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, _The Immortal Gamble_, by
Commander A. T. Stewart, R.N., and the Rev. C. J. E. Peshall, _With
Machine-guns in Gallipoli_, by Lieutenant-Commander Josiah Wedgwood,
M.P., and my own observation of the ground and conversations with
eye-witnesses on the spot.
CHAPTER VII
THE BATTLES OF MAY
In Constantinople the naval attacks of February had created the
dismay natural to a crowded population threatened with destruction.
Preparations were hurriedly made for removing the Government to Eski
Chehir in Asia, or even to Konia. In spite of Enver’s dominance, the
Committee was charged with bringing ruin on the land, and the German
Ambassador, Baron von Wangenheim, feared a separate peace. Ahmed Riza,
the honourable visionary, aging survivor of the Parisian Young Turks
whose revolution seven years before inspired all Europeans but the
Governments with enthusiasm, now stole about the streets honoured but
shunned. In his palace on the Bosphorus, the Sultan, Mehmed V., for
some inscrutable reason called El Ghazi (the Hero), maundered with
imbecility. Removed in March from his palace-prison of Beyler-bey on
the Bosphorus to the ancient city of Magnesia, near Smyrna, the “Red
Sultan,” Abdul Hamid, surrounded by ministering daughters, beguiled
an abstemious and peaceful old age by watching the progress of
Christianity with sardonic appreciation.[105]
[Sidenote: CONSTANTINOPLE AND SUBMARINES]
The failure of the naval attempt to force the Narrows in March
restored the city’s confidence. People felt that, since the British
Navy failed, the Dardanelles indeed formed an impregnable pass. Enver
and Liman von Sanders regained power, if not popularity. The German
bureaucracy, organising every department with efficient despotism,
justified the satiric compliment which cried, “Deutschland, Deutschland
über Allah!” During the subsequent five weeks of our silence it was
believed that the British Government admitted failure and had abandoned
the campaign. The distant sound of Russian ships bombarding the Black
Sea forts at the entrance to the Bosphorus was listened to periodically
with the indifference of custom. When news of the landings began to
filter through, decisive Turkish victories over France and England were
proclaimed. In Asia and on the Peninsula the enemy, it was said, had
been repulsed with incredible loss. If any still clung to the shores of
Islam, in a day or two they would be driven into the water. The anxious
citizens had Enver’s word for that.
Enver himself was hurrying reinforcements to the front. Some went
by the Bulair road, though it was exposed to possible fire from
British warships in the Gulf of Xeros. The majority were transported
down the Sea of Marmora to Gallipoli or Maidos. But within a few
days of the landings, this route was rendered equally dangerous
by the skill and gallantry of our submarines, two of which--E14
under Lieutenant-Commander Edward Courtney Boyle and E11 under
Lieutenant-Commander Eric Naismith--explored their way under the
minefields of the strait, entered the Marmora and played havoc among
Turkish transports and gunboats. E14 sank two gunboats and one
transport with troops. E11 was even more successful, sinking two
transports, one gunboat, one communication ship, and three store ships,
and driving another store ship ashore. It created alarm in the city
by emerging close to the quays, and on its return down the strait it
stopped and backed to torpedo another transport.[106] After this,
most reinforcements were sent either through Muradhi (the nearest
station to Rodosto), risking the Bulair road, or by ships hugging the
Asiatic coast by night to the ferry at the Narrows, both routes long
and arduous. Some also went by rail to Smyrna and thence by rail to
Panderma on the Marmora before being embarked. In early May, Enver
admitted that the Turkish losses already amounted to 45,000, and all
Turkish towns, even to the distance of Kirk Kilisse, were crammed
with wounded. Liman, in command at the front, called for 50,000
reinforcements, and about 30,000, chiefly brought in from Adrianople
and Smyrna, were actually sent. Within a few weeks, divisions were also
withdrawn from Syria for the same destination. For Turkish troops, the
equipment was unusually good--arms, guns, and other stores passing
freely through Bulgaria, or coming from the Roumanian port of Constanza
down the Black Sea, where the Russian patrols remained torpid or
unfortunate. For Turkish troops, the commissariat was also sufficient,
the disaster of Lula Burgas having taught the authorities that even
Turks cannot fight beyond a certain degree of starvation.[107]
[Sidenote: SIR IAN’S REDUCED FORCES]
Before the Turkish reinforcements could consolidate a new position
across the southern slopes of Achi Baba, and convert it into an
impenetrable maze of trench and wire, it was essential for Sir Ian
to continue striking at their front. Only so could the pressure upon
the beaches be relieved, and the continuous danger from dropping
shells to some small extent be reduced; and only so could the Turks be
interrupted in their schemes for driving us into the sea. So heavy had
been the losses of the 29th Division that the new Lancashire Fusilier
Territorials and the 29th Indian Infantry Brigade were added to the
87th and 88th Brigades so as to make up the Division, the 86th being
now so much reduced in numbers that it was temporarily divided between
the other two brigades. Two brigades (the 2nd Australian (Victoria) and
the New Zealand Infantry) were withdrawn from Anzac and formed into a
composite division in reserve with the Drake and Plymouth Battalions,
R.N.D. Two battalions of the 2nd Naval Brigade, R.N.D. (Howe and Hood),
were sent to reinforce the French Division on the right.
On May 6, when the attempt to push forward began, Sir Ian could count
only on about 33,000 rifles, of which only 5000 were British and Irish
Regulars. This total included about 8000 French troops; but of these at
least 5000 were Africans. The remainder of his army consisted, as we
have seen, of Lancashire Territorials, Anzacs (both excellent), and the
Royal Naval Division, that finely tempered, though partially trained,
body, made up partly of public-school men, but chiefly of northern and
west of England miners, R.F.R. stokers and marines, whose heavy losses
were due rather to devotion and courage than to lack of skill. Against
them were arrayed at least 40,000 regular Turkish troops (Nizam),
skilfully disposed in a system of trenches and redoubts designed by
German officers and held with Turkish tenacity. As to guns, the French
at this time had twenty-four of their “75’s,” together with five or
six howitzers, and they never ran short of ammunition. The British had
something over fifty 18-pounders, a few old and inaccurate howitzers,
very few H.E. shells, and other ammunition always so short that a
bombardment in preparation for attack had to be rigorously limited for
fear of drawing on the small reserve. The Turkish guns in concealed
positions on Achi Baba and its slopes, or behind its shelter, were
estimated at about a hundred. In addition, the Turks had large guns and
howitzers on the Asiatic side, the most dangerous being hidden between
the Trojan plain and Erenkeui village. From time to time they exploded
“Black Marias,” as the soldiers called the 9·2 and 11-inch shells,
among the French depôts on V Beach and among the British signalling
stations and stores on Lancashire Landing. Except beneath the cliffs on
the Xeros coast, no point upon the southern Peninsula was secure from
fire.
[Sidenote: MAY 6 AT HELLES]
The battle lasted three days (May 6 to 8 inclusive). The reorganised
29th Division began the attack on the left, the French being on the
right, the Plymouth and Drake Battalions keeping the two sections
in touch from the centre. At 11 a.m. the advance was prepared by a
brief bombardment, the French batteries as usual expending far the
greater number of shells, and firing with their customary method and
precision. The 87th Brigade and Lancashire Fusiliers (Territorials) on
the British left then moved along the flat and open ground between the
Gully Ravine (Saghir Dere) and the sea. Part also penetrated up the
gully itself, which swarmed with Turkish snipers, and at the farther
end was commanded by machine-guns. On their right, the 88th Brigade
with the Indians attempted to conform to the advance, fighting for
every yard over ground affording cover to the enemy in unsuspected
pits and dry ravines, but especially in a scattered wood of firs,
which grew along the edge of a downward slope near the centre. Against
this wood, company after company of the 88th Brigade was led in vain.
Hidden machine-guns also checked the progress of the R.N.D. battalions.
On the right the French threw forward a swarm of Senegalese in open
order. They struggled almost to the crest overlooking Kereves Dere, but
were there encountered by a strong redoubt. The French troops advanced
through the Senegalese as they came back, but made no further progress.
All the R.N.D. battalions suffered heavy loss.[108] The fighting
developed into a struggle of scattered groups to push forward. The
naval guns continued a heavy bombardment, but so deep and narrow were
the Turkish trenches that naval shells had little but moral effect, and
moral effect rapidly diminishes. By middle afternoon (4.30) it became
evident that the wearied and harassed men could go no farther, and the
order was given to dig in, keeping a fairly connected line. By sheer
hard “hammering,” between 200 and 300 yards had been gained, but no
more, and the main Turkish defences were still far ahead.
[Sidenote: MAY 7 AT HELLES]
In the night, the Turks rushed upon the French lines with the bayonet,
but the French lines held. Next morning at ten o’clock our attack
was resumed. After a short but violent bombardment, the Lancashire
Fusiliers attempted to push forward again upon the extreme left so as
to clear the Gully Ravine, about half-way between Gully Beach and Y
Beach, but were stopped by a redoubt and machine-guns upon the ridge
overlooking the sea. On their right, in the difficult ground of scrub
and donga between the Gully Ravine and the Krithia Nullah, the 88th
Brigade struggled to advance the line, and for a time the 5th Royal
Scots obtained a footing in the savagely disputed fir wood. Here they
discovered snipers perched on wooden platforms among the branches;
and here, as in other places during the campaign, Turks had cleverly
“camouflaged” themselves with green paint and boughs of trees till they
looked like moving or stationary bushes, though hitherto the process
of “camouflage” had not been generally practised. The Inniskilling
Fusiliers of the 87th Brigade came up to the support of the Scots,
but soon after 1 p.m. a violent Turkish counter-attack recaptured
the firs. The French and Naval Brigade had made little progress, and
in the early afternoon the battle paused. But it was impossible to
lose the advantage of attack and leave the initiative to an enemy only
eager to rush forward and chase the Allies back to slaughter upon
the beaches. Accordingly, just before five o’clock, after another
violent bombardment, especially from the French guns, Sir Ian ordered
a general advance of the whole line. French, British, and Irish (the
Dublins and Munsters having been united into the “Dubsters”) all rose
visibly together, and charged forward with the bayonet. The firs were
again taken and held. The line swept over the first Turkish trenches;
considerable ground was gained, in places as much as 400 yards. The
success was general, except on the extreme left. Here the original
failure to hold Y Beach at the first landing was now bitterly felt,
for in that direction the Lancashire Fusiliers found it impossible to
advance. Indeed, their advance appears to have been counter-ordered
at the last moment, perhaps in the belief that the position was too
difficult to storm. For a time, on the right also, the situation was
serious. Such a storm of shrapnel met the French advance that African
fugitives in great numbers came sweeping down through the Naval
Brigade, and spread a confusion only checked by the advance of the
French reserves.[109]
The battle had now lasted without intermission for two days, and the
nights brought little rest. The Regular troops had been fighting close
upon a fortnight without relief. More than half their comrades were
killed, wounded, or prisoners; more than half their officers gone.
The relics of battalions were merged together; one whole brigade had
disappeared. The surface of the hollow plain was strewn with dead, whom
there was hardly time to bury; and before the lines, dead and wounded
lay together in places which no one could reach and live. The bare
sand, the flowering heaths, the groves of olive and fir were splashed
with patches of sticky blood. The sinister smell of death pervaded
all. On windless days the heat was severe, and a slight breeze from
the north stirred up dust storms which increased with the increasing
traffic, blinding the eyes, choking the throat, and streaming far out
to sea in yellow clouds. Perpetually exposed to fire, no matter where
they were placed, the men longed for sleep, shade, an interval of
security, and drink of any kind. Short as is the time allowed for a
soldier’s grief, yet grief for the loss of friends was there, and in
the heart of each lurked the knowledge that in another day or another
minute he might be as they.[110]
[Sidenote: MAY 8 AT HELLES]
Though well aware of loss and exhaustion, Sir Ian resolved to make
another call upon his troops for the following day. A new French
Division had been long but indecisively promised, and it was gradually
arriving during these three days.[111] General Bailloud was in
command, a bald-headed veteran of seventy, very small, active, and
alert, endowed with an irrepressible sense of comedy, which he gaily
diffused among men and officers alike. One of his brigades was at
once sent forward to strengthen the French position. On the British
section, the Lancashire Fusiliers and the Indian Brigade were withdrawn
into reserve; the 87th Brigade was left to struggle on the terribly
exposed and narrow height between the Gully Ravine and the sea; the
New Zealanders were ordered to pass through the 88th Brigade and
advance directly upon Krithia; the Australians remained temporarily on
their right in reserve, and, as before, R.N.D. battalions formed the
connecting link with the French on both sides of the main Krithia road.
Sir Ian and the Headquarter Staff had pitched camp in a depression of
the ground above Cape Tekke, too close to the Divisional Headquarters,
but the limited space allowed no choice. Before the neighbouring high
ground above W Beach, beside the cemetery, the scene of battle lay
openly extended, and the movements of each section could be watched
from hour to hour, except when advancing lines disappeared for a while
into dongas, or when the smoke and upheaval of bursting shells obscured
the view with black or yellow clouds. Otherwise, all was visible except
the enemy, and, from the vacant appearance of the ground before them,
it would have seemed possible for the army to advance in uninterrupted
lines across the gently rising slopes to Krithia or the truncated
pyramid of Achi Baba itself.
At 10.15 on May 8, the customary bombardment from sea and land began,
and was received with the customary silence. At 10.30 the infantry
moved, and at once the roar of rifles and machine-guns arose from
the Turkish trenches, while overhead the Turkish shrapnel burst
incessantly. The 87th Brigade attempted to push forward, but could
hardly advance a hundred yards, the South Wales Borderers losing
heavily. Among the scattered trees and rugged ravines on the right
of the gully, the New Zealanders, under Brigadier-General F. E.
Johnston, advanced by short rushes for nearly 300 yards, but, exposed
to machine-guns on both flanks, were forced to dig in soon after
midday.[112] Shortly before, General Paris, R.N.D., commanding the
composite division, ordered the Australians to advance into the
centre of the attacking line upon the New Zealanders’ right.[113]
They were under command of Brigadier-General J. W. M‘Cay, who, with
his Brigade-Major, Major Cass, went up into the firing line with his
battalions, recklessly exposing himself to the heaviest fire until
evening, when he was wounded, as Major Cass had twice been at an
earlier stage.
[Sidenote: THE AUSTRALIAN CHARGE]
The Australians advanced to a slight hollow in the ground, giving some
amount of cover. Here it seemed likely they would bivouac, for during
the early afternoon an ominous pause ensued. But Sir Ian had determined
upon one more effort to secure victory by movement. At 5.15 all the
battleships and cruisers, all the French “75’s,” and such heavy guns
as we possessed, opened a tremendous bombardment. The bursting shells
concealed the slopes of Achi Baba on both sides. Sudden volcanoes
spouted rock and earth in dark cones. The orange of the lyddite curled
over the enemy’s trenches. It seemed impossible for human beings to
survive that quarter of an hour. At 5.30 all guns ceased like one,
and with bayonets fixed and rifles at the slope, the whole line again
moved forward. The brunt of the fighting now fell to the Australians.
Two battalions in front and two in support, they walked or ran in
“rushes” of 50 or 60 yards on about 1000 yards of front to the left
of the Krithia road. The ground was open, and their appearance was at
once greeted by the roar of rifles, machine-guns and field-guns, which
the bombardment had again utterly failed to silence. The Australians,
though heavily laden with packs, shovels, picks, and entrenching
tools, and exposed to intense fire, pressed on, rush after rush, their
Brigadier directing and encouraging by waving a stick in front. Without
a sight of their deadly enemy, they advanced over 800 yards, the
support battalions joining up into the bayonet line. They swept across
a long Turkish trench. They shot those who ran, and bayoneted those
who stayed. They came within half a mile of the eastern approaches to
Krithia itself. Seldom in this war has so reckless and irresistible an
advance been recorded. None the less, after an addition of a quarter
of a mile beyond our original lines, it was checked. Suddenly upon the
right Major Cass, wounded in both shoulders, had discovered a yawning
gap of 300 yards, into which groups of Turks were pouring down a gully
to harass the Australian line on flank and rear.[114]
The French, though late, had advanced gallantly to the attack, drums
beating, bugles blowing, as in a Napoleonic battle. The French white
troops in good order fought their way about 300 yards farther along the
Kereves Ridge, capturing the much-disputed redoubt. But the gap was
left. The Naval Brigade were delayed in filling it, and in the falling
darkness the whole line, exhausted and reduced, had barely life left in
them to dig trenches for the night. An average advance of 500 yards had
been accomplished.
Next day (May 9) Sir Ian issued the following special order to the
Australians and to the British troops, which had now become the VIIIth
Army Corps:
“Sir Ian Hamilton wishes the troops of the Mediterranean
Expeditionary Force to be informed that in all his past experiences,
which include the hard struggle of the Russo-Japanese campaign, he
has never seen more devoted gallantry displayed than that which
has characterised their efforts during the past three days. He
has informed Lord Kitchener by cable of the bravery and endurance
displayed by all ranks here, and has asked that the necessary
reinforcements be forthwith dispatched. Meanwhile, the remainder of
the East Lancashire Division is disembarking, and will henceforth be
available to help us to make good and improve upon the positions we
have so hardly won.”
[Sidenote: THE 29th DIVISION PRAISED]
In spite of a heavy counter-attack against the French position on the
night of the 9th-10th, comparative quiet prevailed during the next two
or three days. But at Helles, even on the quietest days, shell-fire
never ceased, and, to say nothing of the V and W Beaches, the troops
withdrawn from the firing line to rest were continually exposed to
danger. For such rest, it was time to withdraw the 29th Division, now
that the East Lancashires (42nd) could take its place. The Division had
lost about 11,000 men and 400 officers. The relics of those unyielding
battalions began to come back on the 11th. That night and next day it
rained heavily for the first time, but the over-wearied men sank down
into mud or pools of water, indifferent to everything but sleep. In
their honour, so well deserved, Sir Ian issued a second special order,
dated May 12:
“For the first time for eighteen days and nights it has been found
possible to withdraw the 29th Division from the fire fight. During
the whole of that long period of unprecedented strain the Division
has held ground or gained it, against the bullets and bayonets of the
constantly renewed forces of the foe.
“During the whole of that long period they have been illuminating
the pages of military history with their blood. The losses have been
terrible, but mingling with the deep sorrow for fallen comrades
arises a feeling of pride in the invincible spirit which has enabled
the survivors to triumph where ordinary troops must inevitably have
failed.
“I tender to Major-General Hunter-Weston and to his Division at the
same time my profoundest sympathy with their losses and my warmest
congratulations on their achievement.”[115]
Only five days’ rest could be allowed. Immediately before the
withdrawal began, the 29th Indian Brigade, as though to prove
themselves worthy of the Division to which they were now attached,
carried through a dashing adventure, suitable to the character of the
men. The design was due to Sir Herbert Cox, commanding the brigade, and
the object was to capture the high cliff or “bluff” overlooking the
ravine of Y Beach on the farther side. It has been seen how greatly
the failure to hold this position at the first landing had impeded the
advance of our left wing. Upon the bluff, the Turks had constructed a
formidable redoubt, whence machine-guns and rifles rendered movement
along the west side of the Gully Ravine impossible. On the night of the
10th-11th, the scouts of the 6th Gurkhas (Lieut.-Colonel the Honourable
C. G. Bruce) scrambled along the shore to the foot of the cliff, and
climbed right up the precipitous face. On the summit they were met by
heavy fire, and as a surprise the attempt failed. But on the evening of
the next day but one (the 12th), the Manchester Brigade (one of those
Territorial Corps fit to rank with veteran Regulars) made a feint upon
the position from our right, assisted by the 29th Division’s artillery
and the guns of the _Dublin_ and _Talbot_ from the sea. While the
attention of the Turks was thus occupied, a double-company of Gurkhas
again crawled up the cliff, and rushed the redoubt with a sudden
charge. During the night and at early morning, they were supported by
three Gurkha reinforcements of double-companies, the entrenchment was
rapidly completed, and the position permanently held. It was afterwards
always known as “Gurkha Bluff,” and its value for the protection of our
extreme left was incalculable.
[Sidenote: TRENCH WARFARE BEGUN]
It had now become evident that victory by open movement upon the
surface could scarcely be hoped for. As in France and Flanders, the two
modern instruments of barbed wire and machine-guns had so strengthened
the power of defence that open assault would always cost many lives,
and was rendered impossible without a “barrage” of shells such as the
Dardanelles force was incapable of affording. Indeed, the very word
“barrage” was then hardly known to British troops. The opposing lines
were brought almost to a standstill, and advance became possible only
by trench and sap, as in an old-fashioned siege, varied by almost
continuous attacks and separate exploits, designed partly to save
our own men from the rot of inactivity, but chiefly to prevent the
enemy from concentrating his efforts to drive us off the land. The
line was, accordingly, organised into four permanent sections from
left to right--the 29th Division (with the Indian Brigade), the 42nd
Division (one brigade of which, the East Lancashire, was split up to
gain experience with the 29th Division),[116] the Royal Naval Division,
and the French Expeditionary Corps, now counting two divisions. In
the middle of May (the 14th) the French Commandant, General d’Amade,
a soldier with unusual knowledge of foreign affairs, who knew the Far
East well, was French Attaché in the South African War, and served
with distinction in Morocco, retired from the Peninsula, having found
the prolonged strain too great for nerves impoverished by illness. He
was sent on a special mission to Russia, and was succeeded by General
Gouraud, a cool, solid, and imperturbable soldier of the best French
type, who had won high reputation in the Argonne.
At Anzac, although deprived for a few days (till May 15) of the two
brigades withdrawn to Helles, the Australasians continued to strengthen
their hold upon the perilous edges of their rough triangle. But in
the middle of the month (May 15), just as the two brigades were
returning, General Bridges, commanding the 1st Australian Division, was
mortally wounded. In crossing the mouth of Shrapnel Valley, where the
protecting parapets had not yet been completed, he was struck in the
thigh by a sniper hidden somewhere in the bushes beyond Pope’s Hill.
His last words on leaving Anzac in a hospital ship were, “Anyhow, I
have commanded an Australian Division for nine months.”[117] Before
Alexandria was reached, he died: a stern, outwardly cold, and lonely
man, pitiless to apathy, capable of organisation, and inspiring the
confidence always felt in unyielding and unselfish capacity. The
command of the 1st Division was at once taken over by Major-General
H. B. Walker, a resolute and gallant leader, who had served in the
British Army in the Soudan campaigns, the N.-W. Frontier, and South
Africa. He was among the most determined opponents of evacuation on the
night after the Anzac landing. His headquarters were fixed at the top
of the “White Valley,” close to the region afterwards famous as Lone
Pine.
[Sidenote: MAY 19 AT ANZAC]
On May 19, three days after the loss of their own General, the
Australians, together with the rest of Anzac, were called upon to
resist the most violent attempt that the Turks ever made to drive them
off the cliffs. The enemy had now largely increased their artillery,
which included at least one 11-inch gun, some 8-inch, and several
4·7-inch, all well posted and concealed. Liman von Sanders had also
brought up forces amounting to 30,000 men, believed to include five
fresh regiments, and he took command in person. Directly the moon set
on the night of the 18th-19th, a tremendous fire of guns and rifles
burst from the surrounding Turkish lines. This often happened at
Anzac, and now, as usual, the noise died down after about an hour.
But at 3.30, crowds of silent figures were detected in the darkness
creeping close up to the centre of the Australian trenches. Directly
the sentries fired, masses of the enemy in thick lines came rushing
forward, yelling their battle-cry to the Prophet’s God. Though most
severe along the ridge between Quinn’s and Courtney’s Posts, the
assault extended over the whole front, with great violence at the
dangerously exposed apex of the triangle. The assailants came on so
thick, the ground to be covered was so narrow--in places only a few
yards across between the confronting trenches--that the Anzacs had but
to fire point-blank into the half-visible darkness before them, and at
every shot an enemy fell. Many Australians mounted the parapet, and,
sitting astride upon it, fired continuously, as in an enormous drive
of game. Morning broke, the sun rose behind the teaming assailants,
machine-guns and rifles mowed them down in rows, and piled them up
into barriers and parapets of the dead and scarcely living. Still the
peasants of Islam, summoned from quiet villages of Thrace and Asia,
unconscious of the cause for which they died, except that it was the
cause of Islam--still they came on, shouting their battle-cry. Emptying
their rifles into trenches manned with equal constancy, rushing wildly
up to the sandbag lines, they scrambled over them, only to die of
rifles which scorched their skin, or of bayonets dripping blood.
From 3.30 till nearly 11 the conflict raged; but before the sun was
at its height the noise and shouting gradually died away. The great
assault was finished, and had failed. In heaps and lines, more than
3000 Turks lay dying or already dead. The defence lost only 100 killed,
and about 500 wounded. Not a yard of Anzac had been yielded up. The
enemy never again attempted an attack upon that scale.
[Sidenote: ARMISTICE AT ANZAC]
So appalling had the thin strip of neutral ground now become owing
to the ghastly heaps of swollen or shrinking bodies piled upon it,
so overpowering was the stink of rotting men, that the Turks, waving
white flags and red crescents, requested an armistice for burial. After
some naturally suspicious hesitation (for the enemy mustered in thick
lines, and fighting was frequently renewed) a Turkish officer was
brought blindfold into Anzac Cove, four Australian officers carrying
him through the sea round the end of the entanglement beyond Hell
Spit. Major-General Braithwaite, Chief of Sir Ian’s Staff, met him at
General Birdwood’s headquarters, close beside the beach opposite the
chief landing-place, called “Watson’s Pier,” because built by Anzac
signallers under Captain Watson. An armistice for May 24 was arranged,
and duly carried out. It lasted from early morning till late afternoon,
and was attended with the usual ironic circumstances. Within certain
limits marked by white flags, Australians freely conversed with Turkish
officers who spoke faultless English, and were lavish in politeness
and cigarettes. It is said that General Liman von Sanders himself,
disguised as a Red Crescent sergeant, mixed undetected with the crowd
upon that wet and misty morning.[118]
It may have been so, nor was there cause for disguise. It was by his
authority as Commandant of the 5th Ottoman Army that Lieutenant-Colonel
Fahreddin concluded the armistice, as narrated. The note in which Sir
Ian was informed of this authorisation concluded with the words: “J’ai
l’honneur d’être avec l’assurance de ma plus haute considération, Liman
von Sanders.” So the courteous amenities of slaughter were maintained,
and the Turks buried 3000 corpses, all killed since May 18.
Formidable as the Turkish onset had been, a still more serious peril
now threatened the expedition. For some days past, rumours of two
hostile submarines had reached the Staff. Since all communication
was by sea, since the guns were largely furnished by the fleet, and
even General Headquarters were afloat, no news more ominous could
have arrived. A foretaste of danger was given on May 13, when, in
the darkness, a Turkish destroyer slid silently down the strait and
torpedoed the battleship _Goliath_, lying at anchor off Morto Bay to
support the French flank. She was a fifteen-year-old ship (12,950
tons), and she sank at once, carrying down her captain, Thomas
Shelford, 19 officers, and over 500 men. As they drowned, they were
swept by the current past the _Cornwallis_, lying nearly a mile astern,
and their cries for help were pitiful. The _Cornwallis_ boats saved 56,
but only 183 were saved in all.[119]
[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF HOSTILE SUBMARINES]
Nearly a fortnight later (May 25 and 27), a large German submarine,
U51, which had come round by Gibraltar (others perhaps hailed from the
Austrian naval base at Pola), struck two heavy blows in succession. Off
Anzac, the _Triumph_ (11,800 tons, completed 1904) lay at anchor, with
nets out. Suddenly she was struck by a torpedo, which cut through her
nets like thread. In ten minutes she sank, carrying down three officers
and sixty-eight men, within sight of the Anzac forces, which she had so
finely served. All of the Anzacs volunteered a month’s pay toward the
expense of salving her, but that was impossible. The next morning but
one, the _Majestic_ (Captain Talbot), 1895, 14,900 tons, Rear-Admiral
Stuart Nicholson’s flagship, lying at anchor close off Helles, her
nets out, and surrounded by small craft of all kinds, met the same
fate. The submarine picked her out as a good sportsman picks out the
king of a herd. Fortunately, she was prepared for the stroke, and only
forty-eight men were lost. She sank in six fathoms, listing heavily to
starboard, and then turning completely over, so that her keel remained
visible, like the back of a huge whale, above the surface till near the
end of the campaign, when she was blown up as an obstruction. On the
same day as the disaster to the _Triumph_, a submarine also aimed at
the _Vengeance_, the _Lord Nelson_ (Admiral de Robeck’s flagship), and
three of the French battleships. It was evident that the whole system
of naval action, anchorage, and supply must be changed.
Warships and transports were rapidly withdrawn, for the most part to
Mudros harbour. The _Queen Elizabeth_ had been sent home at the first
rumour of the peril, as being too valuable to risk upon a distant and
secondary purpose. For the rest, the neighbouring island of Imbros,
lying only from ten to twelve miles west and south-west from the
landing-places on the Peninsula, afforded an open bay as roadstead,
sandy, shallow, and fully exposed to the north wind. On the east side,
the bay or inlet is protected by a long promontory of sand dunes and
sandstone cliff, known as Cape Kephalos. On the west rise the mountains
of Imbros, perhaps the most beautiful even of Ægean islands. On this
part of the island only three small hamlets stand, squalid with
poverty. But a mountain track over a pass in the central range leads
to the chief village of Panaghía, and two other large villages, rich,
as Greek islands go, in maize, vines, fig trees, and olives. About
two miles beyond Panaghia lies the crumbling little port of Kastro,
dominated by an ancient ruined castle, Byzantine, Venetian, or Turkish,
into which slabs of white marble have been built, remnants of some
Greek temple. The island appears to have small place in Greek history
and literature, though an unknown staff officer, meeting me in one of
the valleys, unexpectedly quoted perhaps from Sappho a passage about it
or Lemnos. And, indeed, it is a haunt fit for rugged and pastoral gods
rather than for polite literature, civilisation, and war. From the top
of the pass the whole of the Peninsula is seen; the Straits and the
plain of Troy beyond; and far in the distance the grey heights of Ida,
and dim mountains of Mitylene. Looking west across a narrow water, one
sees near at hand the vast red peaks of Samothrace, a natural home of
savage mysteries.
[Sidenote: G.H.Q. AT IMBROS]
The arrival of hostile submarines caused the dispersal of the fleet
and transports, leaving the main supply of the army to indefatigable
trawlers, fleet-sweepers, and other small craft, and involving the
removal of General Headquarters from sea to land. For some days the
_Arcadian_ had a merchant ship lashed each side of her for protection,
but the navy refused further responsibility, and at the end of May
Sir Ian and his Staff put ashore on Imbros. There was no choice, for
Tenedos was largely occupied by the French; Mudros was too distant;
and on the Peninsula no place could be found for General Headquarters
without entanglement in the headquarters of divisions or the Anzac
Corps. Kephalos Bay was nearly equidistant from both landings (about
twelve miles from Anzac, and ten from Helles), with both of which it
was rapidly connected by telephone and telegraph. Accordingly, the
camp was pitched among the sand dunes at the base of the Kephalos
promontory, looking over the bay to jagged mountains beyond. A small
stone pier was built, for Headquarter use only, whence Sir Ian visited
the Peninsula on a torpedo boat three or four times every week. On
the opposite side of the bay the navy constructed a similar but
longer pier, and sank a collier and two smaller Italian vessels to
form a breakwater against the north. Thus a fairly sheltered port
was made for the trawlers running daily to the Peninsula with drafts
and supplies, and for those which returned to Mudros for more. Level
ground, stretching over a mile south-west, was used as a store-depôt, a
rest-camp, and a training-place for reinforcements. Up in the hills a
camp was laid out for Turkish prisoners, who worked at road-making. Two
or three miles away, above a salt marsh, and upon the south coast, were
stations for R.N.A.S. aeroplanes, which numbered about 60 in all, but
never counted more than 25 or 30 in action. In the later months of the
expedition, General Headquarters were removed to the entrance of the
deep valley leading up to the pass, because gales, dust storms, hostile
aeroplanes, and want of water and shade upon the sand dunes added, as
might have been foreseen, to the inevitable discomforts of war.
On May 25 (one month after the landing) Sir Ian issued a special
order “to explain to officers, non-commissioned officers, and men the
real significance of the calls made upon them to risk their lives,
apparently for nothing better than to gain a few yards of uncultivated
land.” He pointed out that “a comparatively small body of the finest
troops in the world, French and British, had effected a lodgment
close to the heart of a great Continental Empire, still formidable
even in its decadence.” Owing to their attacks, the Government at
Constantinople was gradually wearing itself out. Understating the
estimates received from the agents of neutral Powers, he showed that,
at the beginning, the Peninsula had been defended by 34,000 Nizam
(first line) troops and 100 guns, with 41,000 half-Nizam, half-Redif
(second line) on the Asiatic side. By May 12 these had been reinforced
by 20,000 infantry and 21 batteries of field artillery. Since then at
least 24,000 had been added from Constantinople and Smyrna. Our small
expeditionary force, though so much reduced,[120] had during the month
held in check nearly 130,000 of the enemy, and, at a low estimate, had
inflicted on him the loss of 55,000, thus diminishing the fully trained
men at his disposal. The order concluded with the words:
“Daily we make progress, and whenever the reinforcements close at
hand begin to put in an appearance, the Mediterranean Expeditionary
Force will press forward with a fresh impulse to accomplish the
greatest Imperial task ever entrusted to an army.”
[Sidenote: HOPE OF RUSSIAN SUPPORT FADES]
The task was indeed great, if not the greatest; but in London and on
the fronts of war events combined to increase its difficulty. So far
as the expedition was concerned, the collapse of the Russian armies
under General von Hindenburg’s violent attacks in Courland, Poland, and
Galicia was the event of most vital importance. In this month of May
the enemy seized the port of Libau, approached Przemysl, threatened
Warsaw, and drove the Russians back from the Carpathians into the
basin of the Dniester. In consequence of these successive blows, it
became certain that the Russian Army Corps of 43,000 men under General
Istomine, which was to advance upon Constantinople from the eastern
side as soon as our fleet and army dominated the Dardanelles, would be
withdrawn, and the expectation of Russian assistance was abandoned.
No longer threatened from the Black Sea, Turkey could now divert an
equivalent force to the defence of the Peninsula, and did, in fact,
divert four or five Divisions. What was worse, Ferdinand of Bulgaria,
long hesitating on which side his interests lay, was encouraged by
the Russian defeats to put his calculating trust upon the German
alliance. Yet our diplomatists, apparently unpractised in deception
and ingratitude, had fondly supposed that Bulgaria would never take
arms against her Russian deliverer, and were even counting upon her
co-operation in the Near East. In spite of such errors, it is currently
believed that aristocratic diplomatists and Foreign Ministers are
endowed with an ancestral instinct for diplomacy beyond the possible
possession of people less nobly born, and for this reason, if for no
other, we must indeed be thankful that our aristocracy has survived to
protect us from blunders even more disastrous than their own.
In the middle of May the Salandra-Sonnino Ministry, urged on by the
poet D’Annunzio and the Futurist Marinetti, declared war upon Austria;
but Italy’s intervention had small influence on the position in the
Dardanelles. Mr. Asquith’s deliberate overthrow of his own Cabinet,
and his attempt to promote the national cause by a large Coalition
Ministry, in which he might well have anticipated a hostility fatal
to his leadership, had greater effect, and the effect was malign. Mr.
Winston Churchill, who could be counted upon to promote the interests
of the expedition as his own particular child, retired to the Duchy
of Lancaster, resigning the Admiralty to Mr. Balfour’s charge. Just
before his resignation his trusted adviser and opponent, Lord Fisher,
had himself resigned, and refused to return, though called upon by the
appeal of the whole nation, outside the industrious promoters of panic.
His place as First Sea Lord was taken by Sir Henry Jackson; but the
country deplored the loss to her service of a great personality. That
element of luck which forms part of a successful General’s endowment
was already turning against the expedition, and critics were beginning
to advise retreat, foretelling disasters which the prophecy of evil
often contributes to promote.[121]
CHAPTER VIII
THE BATTLES OF JUNE
Thus, within five or six weeks of the first landing, the situation had
become serious. At home, the originator of the campaign had ceased to
hold important office; its opponents were encouraged by despondent
criticism; and the Government, which had hitherto controlled it, was
transformed. On the Continent, the retirement of the Russian armies
in Galicia and Poland cancelled the expectation of a Russian force to
co-operate from the Black Sea, and rendered the position of Bulgaria
dubious. On the Peninsula, the only lines of communication were
threatened by submarines; such assistance as naval guns could supply
to the flanks was greatly diminished; the lack of guns and ammunition,
specially of howitzers and H.E. shells, was severely felt; the new
drafts were unacquainted with their officers, and the officers with
each other; at Helles and Anzac the positions were fairly secured, but
the men were much worn by almost continuous struggle, and harassed by
repeated and random shelling. From this, indeed, the dead ground below
the cliffs at Anzac offered protection, but hardly any point at Helles
was safe, or even sheltered, whether the enemy’s guns fired from Achi
Baba or the Asiatic coast. As reinforcement, Sir Ian had received
the 42nd Division and already had been promised the 52nd (Lowland
Territorial); but this did not begin to arrive till the middle of June,
and he was now compelled to ask Lord Kitchener for two complete army
corps in addition. Yet the expedition had justified itself in that, but
for its presence in the Dardanelles, the whole of the Near East would
have fallen to the enemy’s influence, the Russian left flank would have
hung in air without hope of succour, and an overwhelming attack upon
the Suez Canal would almost certainly have been attempted.
[Sidenote: JUNE 4 AT HELLES]
It was now essential to gain more room at Helles, and by repeated
assaults to push the enemy’s lines farther away from the landing
beaches. Accordingly, Sir Ian issued orders for another general attack
on June 4. It was a Friday, the day after Przemysl had fallen into the
enemy’s hands once more. At early morning Sir Ian and the Headquarter
Staff crossed to Helles, and were there joined by General Gouraud. They
stationed themselves on the high ground of the command-post above Cape
Tekke, whence a prospect of the slightly hollow plain and opposite
slopes of Krithia and Achi Baba could be obtained, although, under the
northerly breeze, a violent dust storm blew. As before, the British
VIIIth Corps (consisting of the remains of the 29th Division, together
with Sikhs and Gurkhas of the Indian Brigade, the 42nd Division, and
the R.N.D., in that order from left to right) held the left and centre
of the line, while the French and Colonial Corps of two Divisions held
the right. The Ægean and the Straits protected either flank, but, as
was inevitable on the Peninsula, this very protection rendered flank
movements in attack impossible, and every advance was necessarily made
straight against the enemy’s front. The British front of about three
and a half miles was occupied by 17,000 infantry, with 7000 in reserve.
The attack was preceded by a longer bombardment than usual, probably
because the French General had generously lent the British two groups
of “75’s” (six batteries of four guns apiece) with H.E. shell. The guns
from sea and land opened fire at 8 a.m. and continued till midday, with
short intervals. During the latest interval a feint was practised in
the hope of inducing the Turks to fill up their first line of trenches,
which were thinly held. Our men fixed bayonets, and waved them above
the parapets, as though about to advance. The Turks swarmed down the
communication trenches to their front line, and were caught by a sudden
renewal of our bombardment. At noon the guns lengthened their range,
and, protected by their “barrage,” as the manœuvre came to be called
later in the war, the infantry advanced in earnest. For the first
half-hour the advance was rapid, especially in the centre, and hope of
decisive victory rose high.
This success was chiefly due to the extraordinary dash of the
Manchester (42nd Division) and the 2nd Naval (R.N.D.) Brigades. Under
young and high-spirited leaders such as few troops possessed,[122]
the so-called “amateurs” of the Anson, Hood, and Howe Battalions
rushed forward through the bushes and small ravines of the neutral
ground, stormed the first trench, and captured the southern face of a
projecting Turkish redoubt. It was done in a quarter of an hour, and
in five-and-twenty minutes their consolidating parties were at work
upon the positions gained. The Manchester Brigade (always a model of
what Lord Haldane’s Territorials could become) swept forward with even
greater success. In five minutes they were over the first line; in
half an hour they had captured the second, and it was believed that
no defences lay between them and Achi Baba. The belief was probably
too sanguine, but at all events they had won a third of a mile, and
the working parties began reversing the aspect of the excellently
constructed Turkish trenches.
Farther to the left, the 88th Brigade (29th Division), though exposed
to heavy fire from front and left flank, and met with the bayonet by
Turks who courageously awaited their assault, succeeded in capturing
the first line of trenches, the Worcesters especially distinguishing
themselves. But the farther advance of the division was checked because
the 14th Sikhs on their left were held up by barbed wire at the first
trench, remaining undamaged by the bombardment. For the same reason,
the 6th Gurkhas, who had skilfully advanced along the extreme edge of
the cliffs, were compelled to withdraw, and reinforcements were hurried
up from the reserve. But even the new battalions were unable to advance
against the heavy rifle-fire, and the left of the British line was thus
kept in check, unable to conform with the victorious advance in the
centre.
[Illustration: FRENCH DUG-OUT AT HELLES]
[Sidenote: FAILURE OF FRENCH COLONIAL TROOPS]
With the French upon our right, all seemed at first to go well. The
1st Division carried the first trenches. The 2nd or new Division,
with characteristic _élan_, at last rushed the formidable redoubt which
commanded the approach to the southern slope leading up to the crest
above Kereves Dere, and had barred the French advance almost since the
first advance. From its bulging crescent shape, the French called it
the “Haricot.” Unfortunately, here again, as before, the Senegalese and
Colonial troops were found unable to retain positions which they had
won. Within an hour of the first infantry advance, the Turks projected
an overwhelming counter-attack upon the “Haricot,” shelling it heavily
and pouring masses of reinforcements down the deep communication
trenches. A fatal gap was thus opened between the French and British
lines. The right flank of the 2nd Naval Brigade became dangerously
exposed. The fortune of the battle turned.
In less than half an hour from their great success, the Howe, Hood,
and Anson Battalions were thus subjected to intense enfilading fire.
The lately arrived Collingwood Battalion came to their support, but
in this their first battle they were almost exterminated, losing
over 600 men and their commanding officer, Commander Spearman, R.N.,
killed.[123] Compelled to retire across the open ground over which
they had charged, and exposed to a torrential rain of bullets from
machine-guns and rifles, this brigade of the unfortunate but invariably
noble division suffered the losses of massacre. Even worse followed.
The retirement and partial destruction of the Naval Brigade left the
right flank of the Manchesters “in air” upon a very advanced position.
Their Brigadier, General Noel Lee, an excellent leader of men, and in
civil life partner in a well-known Lancashire shipping and cotton firm,
was wounded; many of their officers killed. Yet the men declared they
would for ever hold the ground they had so rapidly won; they only asked
for help upon their right. To check the enfilading fire their right
flank was thrown back to face it, and in the midst of tangled scrub
and enemy trenches the brigade fought on two fronts at right angles to
each other. It was an impossible position, but still the men clung on.
Our reinforcements had already been almost exhausted in drafts to the
extreme left, where the advance was held up, as described.
[Sidenote: INSUFFICIENT RESULTS]
At 6.30, General Hunter-Weston, commanding the VIIIth Corps, after
consultation with Sir Ian, was constrained to “pull out” the
Manchesters from their exposed and untenable salient. With almost
mutinous reluctance the troops withdrew into the first line of Turkish
trenches, taken in the first rush, and the remainder of the Division
conformed. In spite of an endeavour made by the Royal Fusiliers at 4
p.m. to establish themselves beyond this first line, the 29th Division
and the Indians had been unable to advance farther upon the left, and
the gain so confidently expected, especially in the centre, was now
reduced to an advance of 200 yards in some places and 400 yards in
others. The prisoners amounted to 400, including 11 officers, among
whom were 5 Germans, the relics of a machine-gun detachment from the
_Goeben_.[124]
During the night an excellent piece of work was accomplished by the
Nelson Battalion, R.N.D. (Colonel Evelegh).[125] They were sent up to
establish touch between the right of the 42nd Division and the left of
the R.N.D. This task involved digging forward a “switch trench” under
very heavy fire, but the connection between the exposed flanks was thus
made good.
Late in the afternoon of the battle, Major-General De Lisle, famous
as a dashing leader of mounted troops in the South African War, and
now coming fresh from command of the 1st Cavalry Division in France,
arrived at Helles to take over the command of the 29th Division. The
news that met him there, illustrated by the streams of wounded passing
down to W Beach, was not encouraging. As had happened before in this
campaign, and was to happen more than once in the future, the hope
of victory had been dashed at the moment when victory appeared most
certain, and it had been frustrated by failure at one single point. The
losses were unusually heavy--estimated at 5000 at the time--and large
numbers of the best remaining officers in the 29th Division and the
R.N.D., not to mention the Manchester Brigade, had fallen.[126] Owing
to the retirement of the line from the positions they had taken, some
of the wounded were of necessity left on the neutral ground together
with the dead, and uniforms, hanging loosely upon the shrunken corpses,
were long visible at exposed points, whence nothing could be reclaimed.
By Sir Ian’s personal orders attempts were made to recover the dead and
wounded under the white flag, but they failed.[127] The fact was that
when small parties went out under a white flag they were fired upon.
This frequently happened at the termination of a severe battle, though
the Turks appear to have fired rather as a warning than with immediate
intent to kill. But for this hostile attitude it is possible that a
formal armistice might have been arranged, such as Sir Ian tacitly
granted to the Turks at Helles on May 2, and by negotiation at Anzac on
May 24.
[Sidenote: SERIOUS LOSSES]
Heavy fighting was renewed before dawn on the 6th, and continued
at intervals for two days and nights, the Turks repeating their
counter-attacks, especially down the upper reach of the Gully Ravine.
Here the Royal Fusiliers (86th Brigade) suffered terrible loss. Major
Brandreth, a singularly fine officer, then in command of the battalion,
wounded on the day of landing, was now killed. Many of the new officers
who had lately arrived with the drafts were killed also, including
Captain Jenkinson of Oxford, one of the greatest authorities on
embryology. By June 8 only one officer, the former Sergeant-Major, was
left of those who had originally come out, besides the Quartermaster.
Of the original regiment only 140 remained. All the ten officers
who had recently joined were lost. Their places were taken by a new
Captain from the Dublins, in command, and about fifteen other officers,
collected from various regiments, and all strange to each other and the
men. The Hampshires (88th Brigade) had fared still worse, having only
about 100 of the original men left, and no officers at all.[128] Thus,
under the stress of frontal attacks upon entrenched and commanding
positions, manned by Turks, and assaulted without suitable or adequate
artillery, battalions dwindled to companies, brigades to battalions,
divisions to brigades, and an army corps to a division. Amid losses
so overwhelming it seemed impossible to retain a regimental spirit.
Yet such is the power of a name endowed with traditional honour that
in a week or two the new arrivals, both of officers and men, as they
came drifting in, became inspired with a resolve to carry forward the
inherited reputation maintained by so many deaths.
For the next fortnight repeated small assaults and counter-attacks
continued to reduce the numbers, while holding the Turks in check and
preserving the activity and confidence of the men. On June 21 the
French Divisions captured the “Haricot” Redoubt. The attack began at
dawn, and by noon the 2nd Division had occupied the position. But the
1st Division, after taking a line of trenches, was driven out in a
counter-attack, and exposed to victorious troops on their left, as so
often happened in the French engagements at Helles. In the afternoon
General Gouraud called upon his right flank for a renewed effort,
and at 6 p.m. the lines were taken again and held. The possession of
these lines and the “Haricot” gave the French a partial command of the
Kereves Dere, reduced the salient of our centre by bringing up their
forces on the right, and generally shortened and straightened out our
line across the Peninsula. The French loss was estimated at 2500,[129]
the Turkish at nearly three times that amount. But this estimate of
“over 7000” is probably an exaggeration, though one of the Turkish
trenches, 200 yards long and 10 feet deep, was described as brimming
over with the dead,[130] and 50 prisoners were taken.
By this time two brigades of the 52nd Division had arrived, and the
third was nearly due. It was a Territorial Division (the “Lowland”),
commanded for the first few months by Major-General G. G. A. Egerton.
After the fighting of July 12 and 13, he was ordered to a hospital ship
owing to natural fatigue; but returning next day, he retained command
till mid-September, when he was succeeded by Major-General H. A.
Lawrence, son of the great Lord Lawrence of the Indian Mutiny.[131]
It was a fairly homogeneous and steady division, and, though rapidly
reduced in strength, its improvement after the first month or six weeks
was much remarked.
[Sidenote: SHORTAGE OF ARTILLERY]
It was not long before one of the newly arrived brigades was called
into action. The artillery, even with French help, was now insufficient
for another general advance. The shells were running out; few H.E.
shells were left; the howitzers numbered eight, or two to a division
(four others which arrived later had seen service at Omdurman in 1898);
whereas, even at the beginning of the war, eighteen howitzers went to
each division in France. Among the field-guns were batteries of old
15-pounders, which had established their futility in the Boer War (one
Vickers gun was reported to have come from a well-known museum); but
such things were thought good enough for the Dardanelles. Except the
29th and the Anzacs, the Divisions had no other field-guns, and the
R.N.D. had no guns at all. It was, therefore, essential to limit the
thrust, and General Hunter-Weston formed a scheme for pushing forward
on the left, so as to clear the obstacles which had hitherto checked
our advance along the coast, and to reduce the salient in the centre,
as the French had reduced it by seizing the “Haricot.” While the centre
remained steady about a mile from the sea, the left was to swing
forward upon it as upon a pivot, covering less ground as the pivotal
point was approached. Thus five Turkish lines had to be captured by the
29th Division on the extreme left, and two by the 156th Brigade (52nd
Division), which had been inserted on their right.
[Sidenote: THE GULLY RAVINE]
The battle began on June 28 with a severe but brief bombardment,
limited to the Turkish trenches on our front nearest the coast. The
batteries were assisted from the sea by the light cruiser _Talbot_
(5600 tons, 1896) and the destroyers _Wolverine_ and _Scorpion_, which
were able to enfilade such positions as remained visible. But, for
want of ammunition, the land bombardment was limited in extent, and
lasted only twenty minutes. The 87th Brigade (Major-General W. R.
Marshall),[132] supplied with the new drafts which had been gradually
coming in, at once advanced on both sides of the Gully Ravine (Saghir
Dere). Their part in the attack was to clear a further lap of this
long and deep ravine or cañon, which forms one of the most surprising
features of the southern Peninsula. Advance along the bottom was
impossible. Near the entrance from the sea the cliffs on both sides
rise 200 feet. The slope upwards along the Gully is very gradual,
and the sides nearly up to the very end remain steep, in parts bare
sandy cliff, in parts covered with bush. The ravine curves frequently,
twice turning for a short distance almost at right angles. Here and
there, along the middle and upper reaches, the bottom was dangerously
exposed to snipers creeping down and hiding among the bushes. Up to
the last, even after it became the main line of communication with our
positions on the left, it was constantly shelled, and beyond a point
about two-thirds up its length no horses were allowed to proceed. In
spite of screens and sandbag barriers, shrapnel and unaimed or dropping
rifle-fire frequently inflicted loss upon the drafts, reliefs, and
supply parties continually passing to and fro. There was the greater
danger because, under the stress of thirst and extreme heat, men and
animals gathered round the water which was in places discovered,
especially at one clear and cold spring rising from the foot of a
precipitous cliff upon the right. About half-way up, the Turks had
barred the valley with a complicated entanglement reaching from side to
side, and other entanglements existed farther on. The only possibility
of clearing such a ravine was to clear the rough and bush-covered
plateau on both sides.
Upon the left, after the brief bombardment, three battalions of the
87th Brigade (South Wales Borderers, K.O.S.B., and Inniskilling
Fusiliers) advanced along the strip of land between the sea and the
ravine, already the scene of gallantry and loss. By eleven o’clock,
forty minutes after the opening of the gun-fire, they had rushed the
first three trenches. They were at once followed by the 86th Brigade,
which pushed right through them, over the three captured trenches. Led
by the 2nd Royal Fusiliers, and keeping their formations in spite of
the scrub and a searching rifle-fire, this renowned Fusilier Brigade
stormed onward till two more trenches were taken, and the task of the
29th Division completed. At the same time, the Gurkhas had worked
forward along the edge of the sea cliffs, and secured a green knoll
projecting from the end of a spur which marked our farthest advance. A
few nights after (July 2), the Gurkhas were driven out here, but the
position was retaken by the Inniskilling Fusiliers, though with great
loss, only two officers being left. On the seacoast west of the ravine
our objective was gained, and in honour of the achievement the extreme
point won was always known as Fusilier Bluff.
On the right of the Gully the remaining battalion of the 87th Brigade
(1st Borderers) within five minutes stormed a redoubt overhanging the
ravine, and called the Boomerang from its curved shape. Advancing
rapidly, they next carried a stronger redoubt, known as the Turkey
Trot, perhaps from the speed of the enemy in abandoning it, though
the trenches right up to the redoubt remained in Turkish possession,
separated by a sandbag wall. These rapid successes were mainly due
to two trench-mortars, lent by General Gouraud and dropping bombs
containing some 30 lb., some 70 lb., of melinite, vertically into the
trenches at short range. The British force at this time possessed a few
Japanese trench-mortars--very effective, but numbering only six, and
these short of ammunition. We had no others of any kind. Yet, in the
scarcity of howitzers, trench-mortars were more needed than any gun.
Our hand-grenades were improvised out of jam-pots.
To the right of the Borderers, the 156th Brigade of the newly arrived
52nd Division came into action for the first time. The 4th and 7th
Royal Scots quickly gained the two trenches allotted to them, but the
rest of the brigade (7th and 8th Scottish Rifles), owing to severe
losses (22 officers and 509 men killed) could hardly advance, and an
attempt upon the trenches in front of Krithia that afternoon also
failed. Nevertheless, the morning’s work was a victory. It marked the
most decisive advance upon the Peninsula hitherto. Three-quarters of a
mile along the coast, and about half a mile up the Gully Ravine were
won, and the Gully’s lower reaches and beach rendered more secure.
Large quantities of stores and ammunition were taken, together with
about 100 prisoners. The Gully was for some distance cleaned of the
dangerous filth and rubbish characteristic of Turkish lines--the more
dangerous owing to the unimaginable hosts of flies which now added to
the discomfort of life on the Peninsula, and probably diffused the
malignant type of diarrhœa with which almost every one was afflicted.
Our casualties for the day were 1750, the Royal, Lancashire, and Dublin
Fusiliers suffering most. The losses of the 156th Brigade included
their Brigadier, General Scott-Moncrieff, who was killed on “Worcester
Flat.”
[Sidenote: JUNE 28 AT HELLES]
The Turks lost more heavily, especially in their determined
counter-attacks during the next few nights, when they attempted to
recover the lost trenches by rushing upon them with bayonet and bombs,
their supply of which was plentiful. All these attempts were vain, and
the useless loss of life severe.[133] They seem to have been prompted
by Enver Pasha, in opposition to his German advisers, and the Turkish
troops were specially stimulated to the sacrifice by the following
divisional order, discovered upon a wounded officer. The trenches
referred to were the five captured by the 29th Division on June 28:
“There is nothing causes us more sorrow, increases the courage of the
enemy, and encourages him to attack more freely, causing us great
losses, than the losing of these trenches. Henceforth commanders who
surrender trenches, from whatever side the attack may come, before
the last man is killed, will be punished in the same manner as if
they had run away. Especially will the commanders of units told off
to guard a certain front be punished if, instead of thinking about
their work, supporting their units, and giving information to the
Higher Command, they only take action after a regrettable incident
has occurred.
“I hope that this will not happen again. I give notice that if it
does I shall carry out the punishment. I do not desire to see a blot
made on the courage of our men by those who escape from the trenches
to avoid the rifle and machine-gun fire of the enemy. Henceforth
I shall hold responsible all officers who do not shoot with their
revolvers all privates trying to escape from the trenches on any
pretext.
“COLONEL RIFAAT, C.O., 11th Division.”
To this order a regimental commander added the following note:
“To the C.O. of 1st Battalion.
“The contents will be communicated to the officers, and I promise to
carry out the orders till the last drop of our blood has been shed.
Sign and return.
“HASSAN, C.O., 127th Regiment.”
[Sidenote: TURKISH PROCLAMATIONS]
Two days before the battle, a Turkish aeroplane scattered copies of a
long proclamation intended to shake the discipline of the Mohammedan
Indian troops. It called upon Mussulmans to ask themselves why they
were sacrificing their lives for English people, who had grabbed their
country, made them slaves, and now ruled them by tyranny, sucking
their blood by taxes, taking their wealth to London, and regarding
them as more contemptible than English dogs. It further dwelt upon the
desperate position of the Allies, the triumphs of Germany in Belgium,
France, Russia, and by submarines on the sea. It said that in Singapore
and Ceylon the native armies had killed all the English and occupied
the forts. It asserted that many more submarines were coming, and the
British communications on the Peninsula would be entirely cut off.
Therefore, it called upon the Indian soldiers to slay their tyrant
enemies, or at least to join their fellow-Moslems in the Turkish army,
where they would be treated as brothers. It concluded by offering a
grim dilemma:
“You are at liberty either to desert to us, and save your lives, or
to have your heads cut off, to no purpose, along with the English.”
The Sikh and Gurkha troops, however, preferred to risk the latter
alternative.[134]
To both the main battles at Helles during this month (June 4 and 28)
the Anzac corps rendered valuable support. Their task was to retain
in position the large Turkish forces which hemmed them round in their
triangle of cliff and ravine. By repeated threatenings and attacks they
continually remained “a thorn in the side” of the enemy’s defence,
always endangering his communications and delaying his reinforcement.
The chief share of the service naturally fell to the troops allotted
in “shifts” to maintain the apex of the triangle at the farthest end
of Monash Gully, the continuation of the main ravine or valley called
“Shrapnel.” This position was mainly guarded by Pope’s Hill, throughout
commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Harold Pope, 16th Battalion (South and
Western Australia), and by Quinn’s, Courtney’s, and Steel’s Posts,
stationed at short intervals along the edge of the steep ridge on the
right, slightly in advance of “Pope’s.” By the digging of narrow and
complicated trenches and subterranean passages, all these points had
been converted into small forts; but the proximity of the enemy’s
counterworks exposed them to continuous danger; for the lines of trench
approached each other in places within 15 yards, and even within five.
It was easy to lob bombs and grenades over from one side to the other,
and to converse with taunts or ironic compliments in such languages as
Colonials and Turks could master in common.
[Sidenote: QUINN’S POST AT ANZAC]
But perilous as the whole position was, “Quinn’s,” hanging on the
summit of its almost precipitous ascent, was regarded as the point of
greatest danger and highest honour. Here Major Quinn, 15th (Queensland
and Tasmania) Battalion, was killed on May 29 in repelling a violent
and almost successful Turkish assault, preceded by a mine explosion,
which obliterated part of his carefully dug defences. After this severe
loss, the position was commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Malone, Wellington
(New Zealand) Battalion, for a little over two months, until he fell in
the great assault upon Sari Bair in August. Though not a professional
soldier, being a solicitor in civil life, he was, none the less, an
Irish officer of the finest type. Never tired of impressing upon myself
and other friends the true and serviceable paradox that “the whole art
of war lies in the exercise of the domestic virtues,” he maintained
his exposed position by the unflinching practice of the cleanliness,
punctuality, courage, and humorous endurance of perpetual provocation
in which the domestic virtues consist.
From this Post a sortie was made on the night of June 4 to destroy an
enemy’s trench close in front. The trench was taken, but the small
party was bombed out of it in the early morning. Next night a somewhat
larger party (100 men and 2 officers, 1st Australian Infantry Brigade)
assaulted the strong position to the right from Quinn’s, known as
“German Officers’ Trenches” from the appearance of German officers
there during the armistice. Here a special party of ten men, under
Lieutenant E. E. L. Lloyd, 1st Battalion (New South Wales), was told
off to destroy a dangerous machine-gun. It was a difficult task, for,
like most Turkish trenches in this quarter, the trench was protected
by heavy overhead beams. But one of the ten discharged a few rounds
into the gun through holes at 5-foot range, and the remainder of the
sortie party destroyed some of the trench. These sorties cost 116
casualties--a heavy loss in proportion to the numbers engaged; but the
Turkish loss was reported considerably greater.
[Sidenote: JUNE 29 AT ANZAC]
Fighting of some sort was continuous day and night along that ridge
of Posts. Bombs, rifles, machine-guns, and artillery were incessantly
at work. At night especially the Turks would sometimes be seized with
a kind of frenzy, and pour out streams of bullets, most of which went
wailing and whining overhead to fall in showers upon the sea. But on
the 29th they made another genuine night attack under orders from
Enver, who again called upon them to chase the Infidel from the soil
of Islam. It was further provoked by a sortie the previous afternoon
from the southern end of the Anzac position. About half a battalion of
Queenslanders (1st Australian Light Horse Brigade, of course unmounted)
and some of the Queensland Infantry (9th Battalion, 3rd Australian
Brigade), led by Lieut.-Colonel H. Harris, rushed from the trenches
near the so-called “Wheat Field,” where the farthest Anzac ridge
falls gradually towards the coast, and dashed upon a strongly held
Turkish position opposite. The object seems to have been to divert
Turkish reinforcements making for Krithia, and in this the movement
was successful. Large numbers of Turks were seen coming up from Eski
Keui, supposing the Australian outburst to be a serious assault, and
when they were entangled in the scrub and gullies, exposed to various
fire from Anzac and from destroyers close off shore, the Queenslanders
withdrew.
Next day was fairly quiet until afternoon, when the Turks were seized
by one of the frenzies above mentioned. It died away, but at midnight,
after various feints, they made a violent assault up the Nek, or apex
of the triangle. It began with heavy firing for an hour and a half,
and then in the moonlight swarms of Turks were seen trotting forward
across the narrow Nek against our trenches, hardly more than 100 yards
away, and shouting “Allah! Allah!” as their religious manner was. They
were Nizam troops--18th Regiment, 6th Division--fresh arrivals from
Asia. As they came on, they encountered an overwhelming fire from
the New Zealand Mounted Rifle Brigade (Brigadier-General Russell,
one of the most distinguished of N.Z. officers), together with some
South Australian Light Horse under Brigadier-General F. G. Hughes,
destined to win still higher reputation upon the same scene. These
were stationed on Russell Top, commanding the Nek and the complicated
Turkish position known as the Chessboard, close beyond it. Three times
the Turks ran forward, but rifles and machine-guns shattered them as
they came, and the shadowy forms ceased to move. Others tried to work
round the Nek on each side, down Monash Gully on their left, and by
the precipitous front of Walker’s Ridge on their right. Both attempts
failed. Few survived. Next morning the Nek and defiles were littered
with the dead. At least 600 were counted. It was the last Turkish
attack upon the heights of Anzac.[135]
[Sidenote: GENERAL GOURAUD WOUNDED]
So the midsummer month drew to an end. There was a sense of victory in
the air. Officers and men grew elated by confidence in superiority. All
felt the Turks were beaten, if only Helles and Anzac could maintain the
pressure. Drafts came dribbling in, a hundred or so at a time. But,
though nominally in sufficient numbers to fill up the gaps reported
when they left England or Egypt, they arrived only to find the gaps
had meantime increased, and their numbers never filled them. Since
the landing, two Divisions (Territorials) had now arrived. Three more
(New Army or “Kitchener’s”) had been promised, but were delayed for
another month, and few soldiers can retain the elation of victory at
high pitch through weeks of inaction. “You cannot bottle up enthusiasm
for future use, as you do pickled herrings,” said Goethe. Guns were
short; ammunition was worse than short; the lack of it was perilous;
trench-mortars and hand-grenades hardly existed. Heat, dust, flies,
want of water, and the restriction of large forces to narrow limits
of ground increased sickness and wastage in the trenches and dug-outs
of both Helles and Anzac landings. On the whole, the French retained
health and vigour best, their rations being less monotonous, and
themselves more fastidious in cookery. But on the last day of the
month the French, and, indeed, the whole army, suffered an almost
irreparable blow. General Gouraud, commanding the French Army Corps,
was visiting the wounded on V Beach when an 8-inch shell from Asia
burst within six yards. As though by miracle, the fragments missed
him, but the explosive force flung him over a six-foot wall and into
a fig tree, which perhaps lessened the shock. His thigh, ankle, and
arm were broken, and he was compelled to surrender the command, though
ultimately he recovered, and won further fame at Châlons and in command
at Rheims. General Bailloud, that volatile and high-spirited veteran,
succeeded to the command till he was transferred to Salonika in
October, and was succeeded by General Brulard, of the 1st Division.
Upon the Russian front, of which the Dardanelles should always have
been regarded as an essential strategic part, the course of war
continued disastrous for the Allies. As noticed above, Przemysl was
retaken by German-Austrian armies on June 3. The fall of Lemberg
followed on June 22; nearly the whole of Galicia was reoccupied; Warsaw
was threatened; and at various points, north and south, the Russian
frontier was crossed. So far as Turkey was concerned, the Russian
armies were withdrawn from the war, and Sir Ian’s mixed and mainly
inexperienced forces, insufficient in numbers, ill supplied with guns,
worse supplied with ammunition, dependent upon long and hazardous
communications, were left to confront the full strength of the Turkish
Empire alone.[136]
During the month, the Italians crossed the Isonzo, but against Turkey
no declaration of war had yet been made. Both sides in the European
struggle still looked to Bulgaria as a vital point. Each was still
trying to outbid the other by offers of territorial advantage, and both
were equally confident of a successful bargain with that tough and
secretive, but, in point of territorial ambitions, typically Balkan
race.
[Illustration: GENERAL GOURAUD STANDING WITH GENERAL BAILLOUD]
CHAPTER IX
THE PAUSE IN JULY
While dwelling upon prominent actions in our efforts to advance, such
as those of June 4, June 21, and June 28 and the following days, one
must always realise that the fighting in various parts of the front
lines was in fact continuous by day and night. On both sides local
attempts were repeatedly made to capture or destroy some section of
the opposing trenches. It frequently happened that different parts of
the same trench would be held by the enemy and our companies. At the
turn of an angle, or the mouth of a communication trench, the men on
either side would suddenly find themselves face to face with the enemy,
and a combat, waged for bare life with bombs, bayonets, and revolvers,
ensued. Sandbag barriers were quickly erected across entrances, but
sometimes, while one section was at rest or engaged in cooking, a
sentry would give warning that a party of about fifty men in blue-grey
uniforms had crept over the parapets to right or left, cleared out the
section there, and threatened to enfilade. At such moments the safety
of a line depended upon the alert resource of some junior officer and
the steady nerves of the platoon under his command. No history will
ever record the deeds of silent self-sacrifice which ennobled these
daily struggles, and passed almost unnoticed at the time, except by
the men who witnessed them and were themselves too often afterwards
obliterated with their memories.
Nor must it be forgotten that the Turkish bombardment was daily
repeated at intervals in so-called “hates.” Though the front lines both
at Helles and Anzac were too close together to be shelled with safety
to their own men, all the beaches, except Gully Beach, were exposed;
and though the effect of the fire could not be seen on Anzac Cove and
Lancashire Landing, the range on both was accurately registered, and no
one there was safe, whether disembarking stores, or dressing wounds, or
just coming to land, or at rest, or bathing, or engaged in workshops
and signalling offices, plump into which at Helles I saw a large shell
fall on August 1 with terrible results in deaths and wounds.[137] But,
certainly, V Beach, beside the _River Clyde_, was most openly exposed.
The French depôt there constantly suffered, especially after the
Turks late in June placed four heavy batteries on the opposite shore
in a hidden position between Erenkeui and the Trojan plain. Nor were
communications safe. On July 4 a large transport, the _Carthage_, a
British ship but used by the French, was torpedoed by a submarine just
off W Beach. Fortunately, she was empty.
[Sidenote: TURKISH ATTACKS]
Every day and night at the end of June and beginning of July was marked
by minor attacks from the Turkish lines. But the attack on July 2 was
evidently intended to be more than minor. It began with a violent
bombardment of our extreme left, to which our guns, for mere want of
ammunition, could make no efficient reply. At 6 p.m. the Turks came
swarming down from the upper reaches of the Gully Ravine. Checked by
machine-guns and the fire of the destroyer _Scorpion_, they renewed
the bombardment, and immediately afterwards two battalions were seen
advancing in regular order, shoulder to shoulder, across the open,
their officers waving their swords, and running bravely forward to
encourage their men. To machine-guns the shrapnel of the 10th Battery,
R.F.A., was now added, and the Gurkhas were sent up to reinforce. No
one could stand against our fire. The surviving Turks ran back into the
ravine in disorder. Two clearly marked lines of dead showed the limit
of the advance.
A similar attack on a grand scale was tried only two days later (the
night of July 4–5). Anzac was heavily bombarded, a Turkish battleship
in the Narrows near Chanak throwing at least twenty 11·2-inch shells
into the lines there, right across the Peninsula, to say nothing of the
guns in the Olive Grove and on the Anafarta Hills. At Helles, every
gun on Achi Baba and the Asiatic shore was brought to bear. On W Beach
alone, 700 big shells from Asia fell. At least 5000 shells exploded
on our lines and beaches. At 7.30 a.m. the Turkish infantry attempted
to storm, rightly choosing the junction of the Royal Naval Division
with the French as our weakest point. A few yards of front line were
entered, but in fifteen minutes cleared again. A similar attempt to cut
in between the 42nd Division and the 29th entirely failed, and again
the Turks were driven to the shelter of the upper Ravine. The General
Staff estimated the enemy’s losses during the preceding week at over
5000 killed and 15,000 wounded. So encumbered was their position with
the dead rotting in the intense heat that on July 10 a request for five
hours’ armistice to bury them came from the German Commandant, signing
himself “Weber Pasha.”[138] Unwillingly, and only in justice to his own
men, Sir Ian refused. For it was known that Turks, even more than most
troops, were reluctant to charge over their dead comrades, whose bodies
thus became for us an extra barrier of defence, equal to a barbed-wire
hedge.
[Sidenote: OUR ATTACKS ON JULY 12 AND 13]
As the enemy’s loss was so heavy, the advantage in their repeated
counter-attacks would have rested with us, had it not become evident
that they could draw upon large reinforcements. Early in July five
fresh Nizam divisions arrived on the Peninsula. They were perhaps
partly released by the disappearance of danger from Russia; but, as
most of them came from Adrianople, their presence was more probably
due to the growing understanding between the Central Powers and
Bulgaria--an understanding believed to have developed into a secret
Treaty about the middle of July. The arrival of these fresh troops
rendered the enemy’s attacks more serious and more frequent. Only
by strong counter-attack could our position at Helles be maintained
and the initiative remain with us. Accordingly, a formal assault,
similar to those in June, was ordered for July 12. This time the main
attack devolved upon our right and right-centre, the French and the
52nd (Lowland) Division being chiefly engaged. After the customary
bombardment, supported by heavy naval guns, the infantry rushed forward
and gained the first two lines, but the French and Scots (155th
Brigade) lost touch, the 4th K.O.S.B., parties of whom actually reached
the slopes of Achi Baba, came under gun-fire, and nothing further was
possible till the afternoon. Then, after another bombardment, the 157th
Brigade pushed on and captured a strong redoubt on the edge of the
Kereves Dere. Soon after dawn on the 13th, however, this Brigade was
attacked by bombers, and a portion of its right was driven back. It
was speedily rallied, and three battalions of the R.N.D. were sent up
to reinforce and advance the position.[139] A certain advance was also
made on their left, while on the extreme right the French succeeded in
reaching the mouth of the Kereves Dere itself. Nearly 500 prisoners
were taken, and but for inefficient Staff work, considerable advantage
might have been secured. But little advance was thus effected towards
the summit of the elaborately entrenched and fortified hill, the base
of which was protected by great redoubts and sprinkled with concealed
guns beyond the maze of trenches. After this action our supply of
shell was so much reduced, the reserve so dangerously encroached upon,
that further attack became for the present impossible without heavy
risk. Even such bombardment as was sanctioned for those two days could
only be effected by borrowing French guns--about six batteries of
“75’s” and a few howitzers.
[Sidenote: CHANGES IN COMMANDS]
Under the strain of these successive days and nights of fighting
Major-General Egerton, as already mentioned, was ordered to hospital
for twenty-four hours’ rest, and the command of the 52nd Division
was entrusted to Major-General F. C. Shaw, recently arrived to
command the 13th Division (“Kitchener’s” or New Army) now coming in.
General Egerton resumed his command next day, and retained it till
mid-September, when he was appointed Base-Commandant at Alexandria,
and was succeeded by Major-General Lawrence. But in mid-July the army
suffered a still more serious loss in Major-General Hunter-Weston, the
experienced Officer Commanding the famous 29th Division in the earlier
battles, and subsequently the VIIIth Army Corps. For three months,
without cessation by day or night, this General, who certainly never
spared his troops, had himself endured all the perils, anxieties,
and sorrows of an officer directing a series of desperate actions,
or rather one continuous desperate action, which, as the price of an
unparalleled achievement, had deprived him of nearly all his most
trusted subordinates, devastated devoted troops with irreparable
loss, and stretched his mind on the rack of ceaseless apprehension
how best to encounter imminent dangers with insufficient means.
Burning sun, dust storms, and repeated incalculable crises of peril
may wear down the bravest physical nature, and in high fever he was
compelled to seek refuge first in the Admiral’s _Triad_, and then
in a hospital ship leaving the scene of his great exploits. Such
consolation as is possible for a man so placed he might derive from the
eulogy justly bestowed upon “the incomparable 29th Division” by the
Commander-in-Chief when the brigades were withdrawn in turn for a brief
rest at Imbros after the battle of late June. For, after speaking of
their recent deeds, Sir Ian concluded:
“Therefore it is that Sir Ian Hamilton is confident he carries
with him all ranks of his force when he congratulates Generals
Hunter-Weston and De Lisle, the Staff, and each officer, N.C.O., and
man in this Division, whose sustained efforts have added fresh lustre
to British arms all the world over.”
The command of the VIIIth Army Corps was temporarily taken over by
Lieut.-General Sir Frederick Stopford, who had arrived at Imbros with
his Staff on July 11. He was thus given an opportunity of experience
in the kind of fighting required of his forces when he commanded the
IXth Army Corps, then gradually concentrating for a new enterprise.
Major-General Douglas (42nd Division) next took command for a time.
For the permanent command, perhaps, Sir Bruce Hamilton might have
been appointed but for his deafness. Ultimately Lieut.-General Sir
F. J. Davies, who had seen much service of every kind since entering
the Grenadier Guards in 1884, was sent out. He arrived from France on
August 5, took over the command on August 8, and commanded the VIIIth
Army Corps to the end.
On the part of the French, the losses during the first half of July
were also heavy. Of individual losses, the most serious were caused
in the early morning of July 12 by a heavy shell which destroyed the
1st Division command-post, killing Major Romieux, Chief of Staff, and
mortally wounding General Masnou, commanding the 1st Division. He was
succeeded by General Brulard, who had seen much service in Morocco.
Lieut.-Colonel Vernhol was his Chief of Staff.
Some idea of the habitual life in the fighting lines during the next
two or three weeks of comparative quiet may be gathered from notes
which I wrote hurriedly at the time. Towards the end of July I was
staying on the wreck of the _River Clyde_, daily visiting one section
or other of the British lines (the French being “out of bounds,” though
in later months I found all French officers and men anxious to welcome
us). One day when I had been chiefly with the 42nd Division and the
38th Brigade (13th Division) temporarily attached to them for training,
I made the following notes among others:
[Sidenote: DESCRIPTION OF HELLES]
“Starting from W Beach, you struggle through dust clouds, ‘left
shoulder up,’ till you find one of the dusty white tracks by which
Krithia villagers used to visit the town of Seddel Bahr. One passes
through what was lately a garden of wild flowers, fields, vineyards,
and scattered olive trees, but is now the desolation which people
make and call war. It is a wilderness of mounds and pits and
trenches, of heaped-up stores and rows of horses stabled in the
open, of tarpaulin dressing-stations behind embankments, of carts
and wagons continually on the move, of Indian muleteers continually
striving to inculcate human reason into mules. Except for a few
surviving trees, hardly a green thing remains. Over all this
wilderness a cloud of dust sweeps perpetually, and on the results of
war flies multiply with a prosperity unknown to them before.
“Shaded by the largest remaining trees lay the headquarters of the
Royal Naval Division, always near the front, always engaged, and
hardly enough recognised. Being neither army nor navy, they share the
common danger of nondescripts, and people at home do not forget the
untrained condition in which they were rushed out to Antwerp. Now war
has given them the sternest training, and here they stand, always
ready to take a foremost place in the fighting line, singularly clean
in dug-out and trench, singularly free from all the common ailments
of a war in sun and flying dirt.
“I went on to the 42nd Division, and passing the Divisional
Headquarters entered a shallow nullah, rather safer than the track;
for the whole of the open ground right away from Cape Helles is
exposed to shell-fire. The peculiarity of this watercourse is that
there is visible water in it--a trickle of filthy greenish water
unfit for washing or drinking; but still the men wash where it has
settled down in the large holes made by ‘Jack Johnsons’ or ‘Black
Marias’ which have pitched in its bed.
“One point where the watercourse divides is inevitably called
‘Clapham Junction.’ But Lancashire names have been given to the main
trenches and ‘dumps.’ Burnley, Warrington, and Accrington have given
names to the narrow clefts which are the homes of the Lancashire
men, and a long communication trench, constructed by the Turks with
extraordinary ingenuity, has now become Wigan Road. Like all this
part of our position, that trench was captured in the fighting of
June 4–6, relics of which, in the shape of the dead who cannot be
reached for burial, still lie exposed in certain places among our
own lines, so keen is the watch of the Turkish sniper.
“The 38th Brigade is all Lancastrian too. In its headquarters,
General Baldwin was giving a discourse to his officers. A young
Captain Chadwick, of the machine-guns, showed the way round the
trenches. Through periscopes, or by raising the eyes for a few
seconds above the parapet (for I found it hard to judge distances
through a periscope), one could see the Turkish black and white
sandbags only forty or fifty yards from our front, and follow the
long lines and mazes of trenchwork round the base of Achi Baba.
Holes through the tops of the periscopes proved the vigilance of the
Turkish outlook, and in passing certain points everybody has to run.
“The rifle-fire was not very frequent. Shells kept flying over
our heads, but only to burst far away upon the wilderness, or on
W Beach. Except during an attack, the firing line is not the most
dangerous part of the Peninsula. In the midday heat, the men who were
not ‘standing to,’ were quietly engaged in cooking or eating their
dinner. They cooked on little wood fires lighted in holes scooped out
in the trench side, and their tin ‘canteens’ served for cooking pots
and plates.
“So there these sons of Lancashire stood, almost naked in the blaze
of sun, jammed between high walls of white and parching marl;
some were cooking, some having their dinner from the pans, some
crouching in any corner of shade that could be found, some engaged
upon war’s invariable occupation of picking lice off the inside of
their clothes. I don’t know what work they had done before--weaving,
spinning, mining, smelting, I don’t know what--but they were at an
unaccustomed sort of work now, and yet how quickly they have adapted
themselves to so strange a life in so strange a land!”
[Sidenote: MONOTONOUS FOOD]
The food thus cooked was abundant but monotonous. The chief luxury was
the ration of apricot jam--welcome for a time, but always apricot.
Officials naturally find monotony the easiest form of supply, and
forget that variety is essential in human food. The case of “bully
beef” was worse. Certain kinds of it (South American) were so salt
that it ought to have been stewed or boiled before issued. Salt meat,
unvaried week after week under a burning sun and in stifling trenches
where water is limited to teacupfuls, is not attractive. To troops
afflicted with violent diarrhœa it is uneatable and dangerous. When
the Anzac men threw over tins of meat to the Turks in exchange for
packets of cigarettes, it was a cheap gift, and the enemy returned the
message, “Bully Beef Non. Envoyez milk.” Salt, hard and distasteful
food, in persistent monotony, increased the prevalent disease until the
demand for castor oil (which was considered the most soothing remedy)
far exceeded the calculated supply, and at Anzac General Birdwood was
obliged to issue orders against excessive indulgence, lest castor oil
should become Australia’s national drink. Appeals for a canteen where
variety could be purchased remained unheeded till much later in the
campaign. At Imbros, a few Greeks were licensed to erect stalls where
fruit, cigarettes, “Turkish Delight” (lakoumi), candles, and various
tinned goods could be purchased by the brigades mustering there, or
withdrawn there for rest. Greek sailing-boats anchored along K Beach,
the main landing-place on that island, also did a similar trade,
especially in fruit. At Helles, on W Beach, stood a canteen shed,
nearly always empty. Late in August or in September a canteen ship at
last reached Anzac, but the supply was so small that the representative
purchaser from each battalion was not allowed more than a sixth of what
he asked and had money to pay for. Yet whenever the simplest alteration
in rations was possible, such as the issue of rice, cocoa, raisins, or
even a different jam, the health of the men improved.
[Illustration: WATER-CARRIERS AT ANZAC]
The water supply was a perpetual anxiety, especially at Anzac. Water
could be found in a few places by digging, especially near the shore,
where, however, it soon became brackish. At Helles there were a few
springs and a few old wells. At the extreme left or north of the Anzac
position (near the hill known as Fort 3), Colonel Bauchop, then in
command there, showed me in July an excellent spring of pure water,
said to have been discovered by a “diviner,” Sapper Stephen Kelly, of
Melbourne, with a hazel twig. As it was close to the sea, at the mouth
of one of the largest watercourses that drain the range of Sari Bair,
though dry on the surface in summer, it might have been possible to
divine the presence of water beneath the surface without supernatural
aid; but the source was soon fitted up with pumps and cisterns,
supplying that district well. For the centre of Anzac and the outlying
trenches along the heights, most of the water was brought from the Nile
in lighters and pumped into iron reservoirs upon the Cove beach in
front of General Headquarters. A larger one containing 30,000 gallons
was also constructed on a platform up the cliff, but without great
success, owing to the breakdown of the pumping-engine. The water was
carefully rationed out into water-bottles or tins--so carefully that a
man was fortunate to get a mugful for washing and shaving. “Having
a good clean up?” said General Birdwood, in his friendly way, to an
Australian thus engaged. “Yes, sir,” the man replied, “and I only wish
I was a bloody canary!”
[Sidenote: DAILY LIFE AT ANZAC]
From notes written down by myself in the middle of that July, I take
the following description:
“So here the Anzacs live, practising the whole art of war. Amid dust
and innumerable flies, from the mouths of little caves cut in the
face of the cliffs, they look over miles of sea to the precipitous
peaks of Samothrace and the grey mountains of Imbros. Up and down the
steep and narrow paths, the Colonials arduously toil, like ants which
bear the burdens of their race. Uniforms are seldom of the regulation
type. Usually they consist of bare skin dyed to a deep reddish copper
by the sun, tattooed decorations (a girl, a ship, a dragon), and a
covering that can hardly be described even as ‘shorts,’ being much
shorter. Every kind of store and arm has to be dragged or ‘humped’
up these ant-hills of cliff, and deposited at the proper hole or
gallery. Food, water, cartridges, shells, building timber, guns,
medical stores--up the tracks all must go, and down them the wounded
come.
“So the practice of the simple life proceeds, with greater simplicity
than any Garden Suburb can boast, and the domestic virtues which
constitute the whole art of war are exercised with a fortitude rarely
maintained upon the domestic hearth.”
July 23 was the anniversary of the “constitution” proclaimed by the
Young Turks in 1908, and it was expected that the enemy would celebrate
the dawn by another attack. Being then at Anzac, I made the following
notes, which are here included as giving some idea of usual daily life
upon the outer lines:
“Reinforcements were known to be arriving, or perhaps arrived, across
the Narrows--100,000 men, as reported. It was Ramazan, and the sacred
moon, three-quarters full, gave light for climbing the precipitous
yellow cliffs. By eleven I was at the highest point. Through deeply
cut saps and ‘communications,’ the work of Australian miners, the
way runs in winding labyrinth. Though the depth of our three-mile
position measures no more than three-quarters of a mile from the
shore to the farthest point inland (not counting by the measurement
of cliff and valley surface, but straight through the air), the
length of sap and trench runs to much over a hundred miles. The point
I reached had served as a machine-gun emplacement, but that evening
it was watched by a Sikh sentry who stood in the shadow, silent as
the shadow. Mounted on the firing-step I looked over the sandbag
parapet upon a peculiar scene.
“Far on my right lay the sea, white with the pathway of the setting
moon. Up from the shore ran the lines of our position. Close outside
the lines, north, south, and east, the Turks stood hidden in their
trenches--25,000 to 35,000 of them, as estimates say. All the time
they kept up a casual rifle-fire. Some six miles away, in the centre
of the Peninsula south, I could see the long and steep position of
Kilid Bahr plateau, where the Turks drill new troops daily, and three
or four miles farther still away rose the dangerously gentle slopes
and low, flat summit of Achi Baba. Beyond it gleamed the sudden
flashes of Turkish and British guns defending or assaulting the
sand-blown point of land between Krithia and Cape Helles. Sometimes,
too, a warship’s searchlight shot a brilliant ray across the view.
“At one o’clock the moon set in a deep red haze over the sea. But
nothing happened. The enemy merely kept up a casual fire upon our
sandbags, shaking the sand down upon my face as I lay on a kind of
shelf beside the parapet. Then suddenly, just on the stroke of two
(about midnight in London), an amazing disturbance arose.
[Sidenote: A TURKISH OUTBURST]
“Every Turk who held a rifle or commanded a machine-gun began to fire
as fast as he could. From every point in their lines arose such a din
of rifle-fire as I have seldom heard even at the crisis of a great
engagement. It was one continuous blaze and rattle. From a gap in the
parapet I could see the sharp tongues of flame flashing all along the
edges, like a belt of jewels. Minute followed minute, and still the
incalculable din continued. Now and again one of our guns flung up a
shell which burst like a firework into brilliant stars, as though to
ask, ‘What on earth is the matter with you?’ Now and again another
gun threw a larger shell which came lumbering up Shrapnel Gully with
a leisurely note, to burst crashing among the enemy’s trenches. And
still the roar of rifles and machine-guns went on incessantly, and
still nothing occurred. Suddenly, after just a quarter of an hour,
the tumult ceased, with as little reason as it had begun.
“What was the origin of it all, no one who knows the Turk would
guess. A salutation to the dawn of Constitution Day; panic at the
imaginary appearance of ghostly bayonets fixed for the charge; the
instinct which impels a man to fire a rifle when another fires? In
lately captured orders, the Turks were seriously warned against
wasting ammunition, and now, in a quarter of an hour, they had
expended thousands of rounds upon sandbags; one man killed and two
slightly wounded. I afterwards learnt that the Anzacs fired off only
two belts (500 rounds) of machine-gun, and 74 rounds of rifle.
“When the storm subsided, we and the Turkish snipers settled down
again to normal relations, and all was star-lit peace. At half-past
three the phantom of false dawn died into daylight, and the men who
had been ‘standing to’ all night sank to sleep at the bottom of the
trenches. Picking my way over their splendid forms, I climbed down
the cliffs again to my cavern beside the sea. I was told that, as an
attack was expected that night (spies so reported), not a single man
in the Anzac force had gone sick.”
That was a special occasion, but no matter where one slept at Anzac,
the air overhead wailed ceaselessly with bullets, and from time to time
shrapnel burst or heavy shell exploded, especially around headquarters
close to the beach in the centre of Anzac Cove. There, up a short
flight of steps, General Birdwood had his dug-out, and there during
the night of July 27, Lieutenant B. W. Onslow (11th K.E.O. Lancers),
the General’s A.D.C., an excellent soldier, sleeping on the top of his
dug-out owing to the intense heat, was killed instantly as he slept.
[Sidenote: THE _ARAGON_]
At the advanced base in Mudros harbour (the third vital point in the
expedition at this time), an important change in command was effected
in the middle of this month. Throughout the first weeks of fighting
and organisation, this base was left destitute of an Inspector-General
of Communications. The heavy and complicated work involved, especially
in the transhipment of all drafts and supplies and ammunition from
the ordinary transports to trawlers and small craft after the
danger of submarines was reported, fell upon the Principal Naval
Transport Officer (Admiral Phillimore) and the Quartermaster-General
(Brigadier-General S. H. Winter). In June, Major-General Wallace was
appointed to the office, but his long experience as an executive
officer in India had not specially qualified him for a peculiarly
difficult piece of administrative work, and complaints arose of the
confusion and delay on board the s.s. _Aragon_, assigned to him as
headquarters. Hitherto this liner (hired at great cost from the Royal
Mail Steam Packet Company) had served as offices for the Principal
Naval Transport Officer, and as the General Post Office. The new Staff
of enormous size was now added, and the ship also became a kind of
clearing-house or depôt for officers passing to and fro. She acquired
an evil name owing to frequent loss of parcels from home for officers
and men upon the Peninsula. Unhappily, there was no question about
the losses; but this unpardonable crime against the fighting men, who
were literally dying for want of variety and small pleasures in food,
may have been committed at other points of the postal service. More
definite, though less serious, was the charge of luxury on board.
Certainly, to any one coming fresh from the dug-outs, dust storms,
monotonous rations, and perpetual risks of the Peninsula, the _Aragon_
was like an Enchanted Isle. All who have campaigned in a desert land
know the first physical delight of getting on board a well-equipped
vessel--the plenty and variety of food, the clean cooking, the iced
drinks, tablecloths for dinner, sheets in the bunks, a good chance of
washing, and baths. To the campaigning soldier, those are comforts
beyond the dreams of luxury, but in ordinary life the most ascetic of
saints does not renounce them all as necessarily sinful. Perhaps it was
the arbitrary exclusion of many passing officers from the delights of a
real dinner and other pleasurable contrasts to life at the front which
made the _Aragon_ a byword, as though she were “a sink of iniquity”;
and from the same contrasts arose the report that at the end of the
campaign she was discovered to be aground upon empty bottles, as upon a
coral reef. This appears unlikely, since the harbour took battleships
with ease, to say nothing of the _Aquitania_ and the largest liners
afloat.[140]
In the first half of July, Major-General Altham (Royal Scots), a
Christ Church, Oxford, man, who served as Chief Intelligence Officer
under Sir George White in Ladysmith, succeeded as Inspector-General
of Communications, and he also made his headquarters in the _Aragon_.
The expense of maintaining the ship was estimated at £300 a day, and
proposals were made for removing the headquarters to land in order to
save money. But on the east side of the harbour stood the dusty and
unwholesome town or village of Mudros, together with various camps,
and the western shore and rising slopes behind it were covered with
hospitals, Australian, Irish-Canadian (run by women), and others,
besides rest-camps beyond. It was also thought necessary to remain on
the water in order to keep touch with the naval organisation under
direction of the flagship _Europa_ (Admiral Wemyss), and this, together
with the absence of deep-water piers and wharves, was probably the
decisive reason. And as to expense, the saving of some £9000 a month
has, unfortunately, never been regarded as particularly praiseworthy
in this war. The _Minnetonka_ (Atlantic Transport Company) served as
headquarters of the Ordnance Services and depôt for the supply of
engineering implements, tools, and ammunition, which, however, was not
usually unloaded from the smaller craft. Brigadier-General R. W. M.
Jackson, Director of Ordnance Services, worked sometimes at Mudros,
sometimes at the base in Alexandria. Brigadier-General F. W. B. Koe,
Director of Supplies and Transports, did the same.
[Sidenote: THE _SATURNIA_]
In spite of the lamentable experiences at the first landings, the
arrangements for the removal of the wounded from the Peninsula were
still inadequate. The four original hospital ships were present--two
military and two lent by the navy--each adapted to receive about 500
men. The remainder of the wounded had to be put on transports not
specially prepared, and not protected by The Hague Convention from
attack. Before new hospital ships arrived (about fifty at the end),
this lack of accommodation caused many deaths and much suffering
after a battle on the Peninsula. A particular instance, much spoken
of and strongly condemned at the time, was the case of the transport
_Saturnia_, which appeared at Mudros after the attack of June 28
with about 700 on board, crowded haphazard into any corner, in much
confusion, and so neglected that their wounds were in many cases
putrefying and full of maggots. The transport, having been used for
horses and mules, was also in a filthy and stinking condition. Naval
and military surgeons were ordered to assist. Among the foremost was
Staff-Surgeon Levick of the cruiser _Bacchante_ (Captain Boyle), who
had accompanied Captain Scott on the Antarctic expedition, and was the
author of an excellent scientific monograph on penguins. Supported
by Surgeon Lorrimer of the same ship, and a priest, Father Barry, he
remained on board four days and nights, constantly operating. But,
for want of adequate assistance, and owing to the lack of bandages,
dressings, and instruments, comparatively little could be effected, and
many died who might have recovered with proper care.
Such incidents were but further evidences of the general confusion
due to an unexpected war, and of the secondary position assigned to
the Dardanelles in the Cabinet’s strategy. Prompted, perhaps, by the
depressing reports which had lately reached them, the “Dardanelles
Committee” of the Cabinet, as the former “War Council” was called after
June,[141] resolved to institute an inquiry for themselves. On the
Peninsula it was widely rumoured that Mr. Winston Churchill was coming,
and variegated opinions were expressed. Perhaps it would have been well
if he had come; for he, at all events, realised the vital importance
of the expedition in relation to the war as a whole. Ultimately,
Colonel Maurice Hankey, Secretary to the Committee of Imperial Defence
since 1912, came alone--a man of high reputation for intelligence and
capacity. He arrived in the last week of July, and stayed till August
20, but before his arrival the Cabinet had already resolved upon
sending out such reinforcements as they considered sufficient to comply
with Sir Ian’s demands.
[Illustration: A “BEETLE”]
[Sidenote: MONITORS, “BLISTER SHIPS,” & “BEETLES”]
On July 13 a new and strange type of warship, called a “Monitor,”
arrived at Kephalos, and next day began bombarding the guns on the
Asiatic coast. The monitors were originally constructed for operations
in another sphere. They were, in fact, large floating platforms or
flat-bottomed forts, supporting, some two 12-inch, and others two
14-inch, guns of American make, without further armament. Their tonnage
was about 6000, and their chief peculiarity a broad, flat shelf or
platform extending from the hull just below the water-line; so broad
and flat that numbers of men could walk upon it while bathing, so
that they appeared to be walking upon the water. The shape of the
vessels rendered them difficult to steer, and so slow in motion that
their progress against such a current as ran in the Narrows would have
been very gradual. About the same time, smaller “monitors” arrived.
They were nicknamed “Whippets,” and were marked by numbers only. Four
“blister ships” (cruisers protected against torpedoes by bulging
protuberances along both sides) also came. The “blisters” reduced
their speed by about three knots, but, being safe at anchor, they
served especially as marking points for survey and “registration.”
All these ships played an important part in the coming operations;
and in the later months of the campaign, when cross-observation from
De Tott’s Battery point and Cape Helles had been established, the
large “monitors” stationed off Rabbit Island did invaluable service by
suppressing the heavy guns on the Asiatic side.
Almost equally surprising was the appearance of several motor-lighters,
inevitably called “Beetles.” Originally constructed for the same
proposal as the monitors, they were long, iron barges moving under
their own oil power, and built to transport 500 men or 50 horses
apiece. From the prow projected a swinging platform or drawbridge,
which, hanging elevated as the lighter moved, had the look of a
beetle’s forceps and antennæ. The iron deck and sides gave absolute
protection against rifle-fire or shrapnel, and if the lighters had been
sent out for the first landings, hundreds of lives might have been
saved and the history of the war transformed, but only few were ready
before May or June.
[Sidenote: THE 10TH, 11TH, AND 13TH DIVISIONS]
As to military reinforcement, its necessity was obvious, since by the
end of July the casualties amounted to nearly 50,000; in round numbers,
8000 killed, 30,000 wounded (many, of course, returned to service),
and 11,000 missing (many killed).[142] The 29th Division was the best
supplied with drafts, but on the last day of July it counted only
219 officers and 8424 men. As we have seen, the brigades of the 13th
(Western) Division, under Major-General F. C. Shaw, began to arrive
in the first half of July, and were stationed with the divisions
at Helles to gain experience, which served them well.[143] The
11th (Northern) Division, under Major-General Frederick Hammersley,
began to arrive early in the second half of July, two brigades being
stationed at Imbros, and one (the 33rd) sent to Helles for a brief
experience.[144] The 10th (Irish) Division, under Lieutenant-General
Sir Bryan Mahon, arrived towards the end of July, and half of it was
stationed at Mitylene (Lesbos) on the inlet of Iero (about 6 miles from
the town of Mitylene), guarded by the old battleship _Canopus_ (Captain
Grant).[145] These three Divisions belonged to the New (so-called
Kitchener’s) Army. The infantry of two Territorial Divisions were
also promised--the 53rd (Welsh) and 54th (East Anglian)--but they did
not begin to arrive till August 10. They were about half below their
nominal strength, and had no guns.[146]
[Sidenote: AEROPLANES AND REINFORCEMENTS]
As to aeroplanes, compared with subsequent developments the service
was necessarily rather primitive. The six or eight seaplanes attached
to the _Ark Royal_ were unable to rise to any great height--not over
2000 feet. Commander Charles Samson established an aerodrome at Tenedos
early in the campaign for British and French planes,[147] and there
was an emergency landing-place at Helles. In June, Tenedos was left to
the French, and Colonel Frederick Sykes, R.N.A.S., took command over
the two British wings (Commander Samson and Lieut.-Colonel Gerard)
stationed at Imbros. At the end of July about 30 planes of different
types were in action, doing excellent service in observation and
photography. But none of them were “fighting machines,” and, as no
anti-aircraft guns were supplied till just at the end of the campaign,
the Turkish “Fokker” planes from Chanak were able to continue bombing
our lines on the Peninsula and the General Headquarters at Imbros. On
the sandy cliff beside the headquarters a large shed was erected for
a few small airships, cigar-shaped, with silvery balloons (they were
known as “Silver Babies”), which were used to scout over the channel
between Imbros and the Peninsula on the watch for submarines. The
late autumn gales tore the green canvas covering off the shed, and
ultimately it was removed to Mudros.
By the beginning of August, Sir Ian Hamilton had the following military
forces under his command: VIIIth Army Corps (29th, 42nd, and 52nd
Divisions); IXth Army Corps (10th, 11th, and 13th Divisions); Anzac
Army Corps (Australian and New-Zealand-and-Australian Divisions);
French Corps Expéditionnaire d’Orient (1st and 2nd Divisions); General
Headquarter Troops (Royal Naval Division), together with the infantry
of the 53rd and 54th Divisions then on their way out. Eleven divisions
present and two more coming represented a nominal force of about
240,000 to 250,000. The actually available forces amounted to less than
half those numbers (about 120,000 rifles), always short of howitzers,
guns, shells, trench-mortars, and bombs. The Turkish forces on the
Peninsula at the same time were estimated at about 61,000, with 39,000
in reserve.[148]
The reinforcements by land and sea rendered a change of strategy
possible. They were, in fact, supplied for this purpose. It had now
become evident that the Achi Baba lines were too strong for direct
assault. Its gradual slopes, free from dead ground, made the hill
an ideal position for defence, and this natural advantage had been
so increased by a complicated system of frontal and communication
trenches, by barbed wire, machine-guns, scattered batteries, and a
series of powerful redoubts, that an almost impregnable fortress by
this time checked further advance. In fact, the army at Helles was like
a besieged garrison, being continually threatened with assault from the
front, and by the Asiatic guns on its right flank and rear. The sea
remained open, but that outlet for communication, already exposed to
the enemy’s submarines and heavy artillery, would soon be imperilled
by autumnal storms. The Army Corps at Anzac was similarly besieged,
except that the dead ground sheltered by precipitous cliffs reduced
the danger to life in rear of the firing trenches. To break down the
siege a sortie in force had become essential. The only alternative
was to cling to the positions in the hope of a diversion from Russia
or Bulgaria. But during July the great Russian retreat from Galicia
and Poland continued almost uninterrupted, and on August 4, Warsaw
fell. As to Bulgaria, the Russian disasters confirmed Tsar Ferdinand’s
confidence in the ultimate victory of his German compatriots, and a
resolute people’s ancestral detestation of the Serbs gave him the
support of their passionate desire to recover the lands lost to them in
the second Balkan War.
[Sidenote: REJECTED SCHEMES FOR FRESH ADVANCE]
The design of breaking down the siege and freeing the Narrows for the
fleet, by cutting the neck of the Peninsula at Bulair, by a landing at
Enos, or by a direct attack, was obvious and tempting. As before, its
weakness was that the occupation of Bulair would neither have cut the
enemy’s communications nor freed the Narrows. In spite of the daring
resource of our submarines in penetrating into the Sea of Marmora, and
even shelling the trains and destroying the culverts on the railway
which runs from Scutari along the north coast of the Gulf of Ismid,
the main Turkish supplies and drafts still came to the Peninsula by
sea. Some crossed to the Asiatic side from Constantinople; some came
up by train from Smyrna to Panderma; in either case, the transports
edged along the coast by stages at night till they reached the Straits
and crossed at Gallipoli, Galata, or Maidos, always keeping beyond
the range or vision of any guns on Bulair. A landing at Enos would
have lengthened the journey from Mudros by about 50 miles. An attempt
at Bulair would have implied a landing against lines long reputed
impregnable, and lately developed even more carefully than the April
defences at Helles. The attempt also would have contained no element
of surprise; for an attack at that point would be the merest amateur’s
first expectation.
[Sidenote: SIR IAN’S DESIGN]
An advance in Asia, as from Adramyti Bay opposite Mitylene, with a
view to reaching the Smyrna-Panderma railway, might have looked more
promising. It was much favoured by British authorities in Mitylene.
The arrival of half the 10th Division appeared to point that way, and
Mr. Compton Mackenzie was sent there to encourage the false report,
for the benefit of Turkish spies. The French, harassed by the Asiatic
guns, were probably anxious for some movement along that coast. But
Sir Ian was perhaps still bound by Lord Kitchener’s express orders not
to entangle himself in Asia. At all events, he refused to dissipate
his comparatively small forces at such distances apart. Committed to
the Peninsula, he felt that there or nowhere lay his hope of victory.
Already in June, with the full concurrence of Generals Gouraud and
Birdwood, he had laid his plan. Anzac, instead of remaining subsidiary
as “a thorn in the side,” was now to become the main base of attack.
The first objective was to be the Sari Bair range; the ultimate object
an advance across the five miles to Maidos. A new frontal attack was to
detain the enemy at Achi Baba. A surprise landing at Suvla Bay was to
protect the Anzac left flank, occupy the heights threatening that flank
with artillery, and assist the assault upon the central mountains of
Sari Bair range--Koja Chemen Tepe (Hill 971) and Chunuk Bair. When once
those heights were gained, the Turkish communications would indeed be
cut in two; the positions on Achi Baba and Kilid Bahr plateau would
be turned and taken in rear; the very gate of the Narrows would be
exposed to our guns. It was a high hope. The battle for its realisation
is generally known as Suvla, but more accurately as Sari Bair. In the
first week of August it began.
NOTE to p. 199.--During the assault on July 12 and 13 there was “much
confused fighting,” as Sir Ian’s dispatch states. General Paris, then
commanding the R.N.D., writes: “I know the confusion was immense,
and the difficulty of locating actual positions continued for some
(say two or three) days.” I now take the following to be the order of
events: On the morning of the 12th, the 155th Brigade went forward,
with the French on its right, and captured two lines of trenches.
It was counter-attacked, and one battalion suffered severe loss. In
support, General Hunter-Weston ordered the 157th Brigade to attack
in prolongation of the left, and this Brigade captured three lines
of trenches. Early on the morning of the 13th, part of its right was
driven back by a counter-attack of bombers, and the left of the 155th
Brigade was also heavily pressed. The men were, however, rallied
almost immediately, and returned.
As to the reinforcement by the R.N.D., I quote Sir Ian’s dispatch:
“I decided that three battalions of the R.N.D. should reinforce a
fresh attack to be made that afternoon (July 13) on such portions
of our original objectives as remained in the enemy’s hands. This
second attack was a success. The Nelson Battalion on the left
valiantly advanced and made good, well supported by the artillery of
the French. The Portsmouth Battalion, pressing on too far, fell into
precisely the same error at precisely the same spot as did the 4th
K.O.S.B. on the 12th, an over-impetuosity which caused them heavy
losses.”
It was on the morning of the 13th that Major Sketchley (R.M.L.I.)
added to his previous services on the Staff of the R.N.D. by the
action which gained his D.S.O.--“a very gallant affair,” as General
Paris writes.
CHAPTER X
THE VINEYARD, LONE PINE, AND THE NEK
Friday, August 6, was the day fixed for the new attempt. The waning
moon was due to rise at 2 of the 7th. To have waited longer would
have meant a month’s delay, until moonless nights returned. A month’s
experience would have increased the fighting value of the new
Divisions, as was seen in the case of the 13th Division at Helles; but
the collapse of Russia in Poland, and the growing danger of Bulgaria’s
attitude, would have given the greater advantage to the enemy; and the
approach of autumn had to be considered. Accordingly, utterly untried
as four of his five new Divisions were, Sir Ian resolved to strike at
once, even before two of them had arrived, chiefly in hope of gaining
the incalculable advantage of surprise. To distract the enemy’s
attention, he had arranged a scare at Mitylene by sending a brigade and
a half (31st and 30th) of the 10th Division there, as we have seen; by
visiting the island himself on August 2; by causing maps of the Asiatic
coast to be distributed with surreptitious freedom; and by deputing Mr.
Compton Mackenzie and others to spread indiscreet rumours among the
gossips and spies there under pledge of deathlike secrecy. Beyond the
extreme left of his new line, of which Anzac had now become the centre,
he also arranged a smaller but more violent scare by dispatching a
party of about 300 men (chiefly Greek and Cretan “Andarti,” under
command of a Levantine, Captain Binns) to Karachali, on the northern
shore of the Gulf of Xeros, as though an attack on the Bulair lines
were contemplated.[149] But the two chief “containing” movements to
distract the enemy’s notice from the main attack, and at the same time
to make any possible local advance, were directed against the enemy
opposite the centre of our line at Helles, and opposite the right at
Anzac.
[Sidenote: ARRANGEMENT OF FORCES]
At noon on August 6 the forces were thus situated: At Anzac the
Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, together with the 13th Division,
the Indian Brigade, and the 29th Brigade of the 10th Division, all
of which had been secretly and with great skill added to the Anzac
force in the darkness of the two preceding nights, and stowed away
in prepared dug-outs among the most hidden ravines; at Helles, the
29th, the 42nd, the 52nd, the R.N.D., and the two French Divisions; at
Mitylene, the 31st Brigade and half the 30th of the 10th Division; at
Mudros, the other half of the 30th Brigade; and at Imbros, the 11th
Division. The infantry of the 53rd and 54th Divisions, to be kept as
general reserve, were on the sea, approaching Mudros, whence they were
ultimately hurried to Suvla without disembarking.
The day was fine; the water perfectly calm; and at Imbros the 11th
Division spent the hot and sunny hours in practising disembarkation
from the unaccustomed “beetles,” or playing in naked crowds among the
shallows of Kephalos beach. The first anniversary of the war had only
just passed; most of the men had volunteered at the very beginning; the
Division had been organised for nine or ten months, and held a high
reputation in the New Army. Nevertheless, the physique and bearing were
not exceptionally fine, and, though the men displayed the cheerful and
ironic stoicism usual among English working-people, observers noticed
an absence of eager enthusiasm--of that excitement straining for
adventure which had illuminated the departure from Mudros three months
before. Hope was not so high; knowledge of the enemy’s power, or the
depressing criticism which had permeated the nation at home, increased
the common apprehensions of war; and it may be that the unconscious
paralysis of cautious and uninspiring age had crept downwards from the
higher commands, through that infection of personality which acts as by
magic for good or evil.
[Sidenote: AUGUST 6 AT HELLES]
As though perceiving this absence of devoted enthusiasm, Sir Ian
issued a characteristic Order, calculated to stir the spirits of the
troops.[150] As Commander-in-Chief, he was himself compelled to remain
at Imbros, so as to retain communication with the three principal
scenes of action, and, in case of emergency, to visit one or other
point; Suvla, the most distant, being fifty minutes, and Helles,
the nearest, only forty minutes away by torpedo-boat. So narrow is
the dividing sea that all that afternoon of August 6 the booming of
the guns, and even the incessant rattle of rifle-fire at Helles and
Anzac, could be plainly heard in the headquarters at Imbros, and by
the newcomers enjoying their last security upon the beach. For that
afternoon the two main blows designed as feints to deceive the enemy
regarding our real objective, and to hold him to his positions, were
struck, the one at Helles, the other at Anzac, as far away as was
possible from our intended advance on the left.
At Helles the main attack covered about two-thirds of a mile along the
right centre of the British lines, and was carried out by the 88th
Brigade of the 29th Division, and the 42nd (East Lancashire) Division.
The advance across open ground began just before 4 p.m., the brigades
pushing forward resolutely against massed fire from crowded Turkish
trenches, which our want of howitzers and trench-mortars prevented us
from suppressing. The Essex Battalion of the 88th Brigade especially
distinguished itself by plunging into a trench crammed with the enemy;
but, exposed to rifle-fire on both flanks and to showers of bombs, the
men were shattered. Nor could the 42nd Division make headway against
the withering fire. It was evident that in the pause of the last
three weeks the Turks had gained in confidence owing to the success
of their Allies in Galicia and Poland, their reinforcement by two
fresh Divisions, and the fast of Ramazan or its termination. Officers’
night patrols discovered that they had even designed an attack on
our lines that very evening, which was the reason why their trenches
were so crowded with men. Better intelligence, either by aeroplane
or the investigation of spies and prisoners, might have warned us of
this intention, and our object in holding the Turks to their position
would in that case have been gained with greater loss to them and less
terrible loss to ourselves.
[Illustration:
_J. Russell & Sons_]
GENERAL SIR IAN HAMILTON (1918)]
Nevertheless, Sir Ian resolved to renew the attack the following
morning. It was August 7, the first and critical day at Anzac and
Suvla--the day which was expected to be decisive. At all costs the
Turks at Helles were to be prevented from reinforcing their vitally
threatened positions, and as long as possible to be kept ignorant
of the threats. In the early morning they appear to have remained
ignorant, for they were preparing a counter-attack upon our centre when
they were confronted by our renewed onset along a half-mile front. Why
an advance was not then attempted by all the Divisions upon our
lines from sea to sea has not been stated. Guns and gun-ammunition
were short, but that was an invariable condition on the Peninsula, and
big attacks had been made in spite of helpless deficiency. Probably
the higher command had now concluded that frontal attacks against the
complicated works on Krithia and Achi Baba only implied fruitless
loss; but now if ever, when the enemy’s rear and communications were
threatened, an opportunity might have offered itself.
[Sidenote: FIGHT FOR THE VINEYARD]
Yet the attack was made only in the centre, chiefly by two brigades
of the 42nd Division (the 125th and 127th--Lancashire Fusiliers and
Manchesters). A few yards of ground were won, but lost again. Only
exactly in the centre of our lines the fighting continued all that day,
and indeed, with short intervals, for six days longer. Here there was
an oblong vineyard, running for about 200 yards beside the left of the
straight Krithia road, about 250 yards from the junction of the East
Krithia nullah with the West Krithia nullah still farther to the left.
The vineyard had hitherto lain just outside our firing line, but now
the East Lancashire Brigades seized and clung to it. All that day and
through the night they clung to it, in spite of a massed counter-attack
at night, the 6th and 7th Battalions, Lancashire Fusiliers, showing
the finest endurance. The next day (Sunday, 8th), when the chances
of our main strategy were just hanging in the balance, two more
counter-attacks were delivered, before dawn and after sunset, but still
the Lancastrians held, the 4th East Lancashire Battalion now coming
into action.[151] On the Monday the position seemed comparatively
secure, and these battalions were relieved, though fighting continued.
But three days later the enemy attacked in mass again at night, and
captured the vineyard. Next day (the 13th) they were bombed out of it,
and a line across the oblong, nearly up to the farther end, was finally
wired, loopholed, and consolidated. The actual territory gained was not
much--barely 200 yards--but “The Vineyard” will always remain a memory
in Lancastrian annals. The 42nd Division’s own C.O., Major-General
Douglas, who had taken over the command of the VIIIth Army Corps at
Helles after Hunter-Weston’s departure, shared the almost ruinous
honour. For on August 8, Lieut.-General Davies had assumed command of
the Army Corps himself, and Major-General Douglas had returned to his
Division.
Though the feint at Helles did not gain much local advantage, its
service to the general strategic plan must not be overlooked; for the
violence and partial success of the attack retained the new Turkish
divisions, which otherwise would have reinforced the enemy on Sari Bair
and at Suvla. The second great feint, from our right at Anzac, was even
more violent and more successful. It began about an hour and a half
later on the same afternoon (August 6), and its scene was the section
of Turkish trenches known as Lone Pine.
[Sidenote: LEANE’S TRENCHES AT ANZAC]
Just a week before the action (on the night of July 31), the extreme
right of the Anzac position, close to Chatham’s Post where that
side of the triangle ended at the centre of “Brighton Beach,” was
further strengthened by a dashing sortie to destroy a hundred yards
of trench which the Turks, working through a tunnel, had constructed
within bombing distance of the so-called Tasmania Post. After two
rapidly excavated mines had been exploded at the ends of the trench,
four parties of fifty men each (11th West Australian Battalion, 3rd
Australian Brigade) crossed our wire entanglements on planks placed in
position by the sappers, and plunged straight into the midst of the
confused and chattering Turks, almost before the explosions were over.
After severe fighting, in which the Australians were heavily bombed
from the Turkish communication trenches, they succeeded in barricading
the entrances, transferring the Turkish parapets to the other sides of
the trenches, and including the position within the Anzac lines. The
Anzac loss was comparatively small--11 killed and 74 wounded, against
100 Turks killed; but Major Leane, who commanded the storming party,
was mortally wounded, and the trenches afterwards bore his name.[152]
This enterprise had strengthened the Anzac right at the extreme end,
securing that flank from attack across the comparatively flat and
low-lying ground between our lines and Gaba Tepe. The “containing
attack” or feint from Anzac was now to be delivered about half a mile
farther up the same right flank or side of the Anzac triangle.
[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR LONE PINE]
From the beach past Chatham’s Post and along the Tasmanian trenches,
the Anzac lines rose steeply to a height of some 400 feet until they
crossed a small plateau, known as Lone Pine. The name was due to a
solitary tree which the Turks had left standing alone out of a small
wood or fringe of firs lining their side of the ground. They had
cut down the rest for their dug-outs or head-cover, and in fact the
solitary pine itself was felled just before the attack, or even on
the very morning; but the place kept its name, to be remembered in
all records of the war. Upon the plateau, which measured little over
300 yards across and was covered with heath and low bushes, our lines
bulged slightly into a salient, called the Pimple, separated from the
Turkish lines by an open space, in some points a little over 100 yards
broad, in others only 60 yards. Opposite this slight salient, over the
southern portion of the plateau, the Turks had been long and busily
engaged in constructing complicated lines and trenches to the strength
of an underground fortress. Always apprehensive of attack at this
point, as commanding a deep gully (known to Anzac as “Surprise Gully”),
up which they brought their water and supplies for the front in this
section, they had further covered the position and the open ground
between the lines by strongly fortifying another small plateau across a
shallow gully on their right, to the north. This fortress was known in
Anzac as “Johnston’s Jolly,” and the two fortresses combined to subject
any attack to a cross-fire of field-guns, machine-guns, and rifles.[153]
The chief feint from Anzac was directed against the Lone Pine fortress;
and it was not merely a feint, for the position itself was of value
in covering the approach of the main army to Maidos. For the attack,
the 1st New South Wales Brigade (Brigadier-General N. M. Smyth) of the
Australian Division, commanded now by that resolute British officer,
Major-General H. B. Walker, was selected, and it was soon to rival the
exploits of the 3rd Brigade at the landing, and of the 2nd Brigade on
May 7 at Helles. It numbered barely 2000 strong as it came up White
Gully and mustered round Brown’s Dip, a depression behind the firing
lines of the Pimple. The men wore white armlets and a square white
patch on the back, to distinguish them from the enemy in the dust
and confusion of such fighting. They carried their packs and full
equipment. The 2nd (Colonel Scobie, killed), the 3rd (Colonel Brown,
killed), and the 4th (Colonel Macnaghton) Battalions were to lead the
attack, the 1st Battalion (Colonel Dobbin) being held in reserve. The
three battalions took up their positions, crouching below the parapets,
from which the barbed wire had been cautiously removed. A small party
was stationed along an advanced subterranean trench or corridor,
connected with the main firing trench by tunnels, which the miners had
elaborately constructed. Thence it was to burst out through the thin
coating of earth overhead, and join in the charge.[154]
The attack was timed for 5.30 in the afternoon. A casual bombardment of
the Turkish guns in the olive grove behind Gaba Tepe had been carried
on all day by the monitor _Humber_, but at 4 o’clock the cruiser
_Bacchante_ appeared, and began shelling the Turkish lines in earnest.
At 4.30 the land batteries joined in, but the bombardment was not
more severe than usual, so that the Turks continued uncertain of the
approaching event. Slowly the minutes passed, the officers standing
watch in hand, as time ticked out for so many the remaining seconds
of life. Only fifty from each of the three battalions were to spring
over the parapet first, but so thickly did the men press up against the
fire-step to get a good start that there was hardly room along the 200
yards of front.[155]
[Sidenote: ASSAULT AT LONE PINE]
Just before 5.30 the guns suddenly stopped. The officers passed the
word, “Prepare to go over.” Next second the Brigade-Major blew his
whistle. Whistles sounded all along the trench. The 150 clambered over
the sandbags without a word. There was no cheering. With eyes fixed
upon the low white line of loopholed parapet in front, the heavily
laden men trotted and stumbled forward across that open patch of heath,
rugged with pitfalls, fragments of shell, and wire. The Turkish guns,
sighted for our trenches, could not range upon them, and in the first
rush few fell. In less than a minute from the start, nearly all had
reached that white and loopholed line, and, with sharpened bayonets
raised, were prepared to burst through the entanglements and leap into
the trench below. They burst the entanglement, but there was no visible
trench below. The whole trench was thickly roofed with heavy baulks of
fir timber, railway sleepers, branches of trees, earth, and rocks. The
trench was one prolonged, impenetrable dug-out, loophooled along the
front line like a subterranean castle.
Some of the advanced party ran forward over the solid roof, reached the
open second line of trenches, reached the communication trenches up
which the Turks were crowding, and fired into the thick of the enemy
wherever they found them. They sprang down separately into the midst
of them, and fought single-handed with bayonet and bombs, spreading
terror and confusion before they died. But the majority scattered out
in line along the face of the first parapet, as though along a curb,
peering and poking for an entrance, while the Turks poured bullets
upwards upon them through loopholes and imperceptible apertures. Some
of our men fired back through the loopholes; some, in groups, with
desperate strength, wrenched up the heavy beams and tore the roof open;
some discovered narrow man-holes left in the covering for the exit and
entrance of “listeners” at night. Wherever a sufficient opening was
made or found, a man wriggled feet foremost down through it, helpless
and exposed until he dropped into the thick of foes scarcely visible
in the cavernous obscurity. It took fifteen minutes for all the men
standing exposed in the open to get down.
Close upon the heels of the advanced party, the main bodies of the
three battalions had followed, leaving only their reserves. Before
twenty minutes had passed, the reserves also went forward. Within a
few minutes of the start, the Turkish guns had the range of the open
ground, and swept it from end to end with a cross-fire of machine-guns
and low-bursting shrapnel. At the same time, Turkish 6-in. howitzers
continued to fling their crunching shells sheer into the emplacements
of the Anzac guns, drawn right up among the parapets of the firing
line. So thick was the air with shrieking missiles of death that it
seemed impossible to live unsheltered. Yet as soon as the gun parapets
were shattered, they were rebuilt, and across that deadly open space of
heath, now thickly strewn with lumps of khaki marked with white, group
after group of companies steadily ran forward, and the wounded--only
the wounded--came staggering or crawling back. Along the foot of that
first white parapet the dead lay in line, and here, as at the landing
on W Beach, eager watchers in our trenches asked each other what the
men were doing there.
[Sidenote: FIGHTING IN THE TRENCHES]
Fifty minutes from the start, the 1st Battalion was sent up to
reinforce and consolidate, but the blind struggle for life or death
continued in the trenches. No one will ever fully describe what
happened in those twisting galleries and passages and pits, for
neither actors nor witnesses of the deeds survived. Crowded in places
so tightly together that they could hardly use their rifles, in other
places hidden singly in dark corners, or lurking in groups behind
angles of traverses, the unhappy Anatolians, Syrians, and peasants
from the Asiatic shores awaited and repelled the fiery and tumultuous
onset with unyielding persistence. Rifles were fired at scorching
range; bayonet clashed with bayonet, and plunged into the softness of
living bodies full of blood; bomb-thrower flung his bomb into the face
of bomb-thrower flinging at him. It was like a battle of infuriated
beasts tearing each other to death in the narrow confines of a pit. The
bottom of the trenches was soon so thick with the dead and dying that
Australians and Turks alike trampled upon bodies without discrimination
of race, and the sides of the trenches no longer sheltered from fire
the heads of those who still fought on.
Where all displayed a reckless disregard of life beyond the imagination
of peace, it is hard to select conspicuous courage. But one may mention
Major Fullerton, an army surgeon, who stumbled through the rain of fire
across the open ground, and stayed for six hours dressing the wounded
in the midst of the fighting; also Captain J. W. Bean, who went to and
fro under the terrifying shell-fire which crumbled up the parapets of
our former line, and attended to the wounded till he fell wounded
himself. Of the calm gallantry of some signallers, his brother, Captain
C. E. W. Bean, the correspondent, made mention in some notes which
he jotted down hour by hour on that wild evening and night, until he
himself fell wounded also; at 7 p.m. he wrote:
“Presently two men come racing back carrying a reel between them. One
drops suddenly out of sight below the scrub; the other, who overran
him, drops in also; they had hit a concealed pit in our front line of
trenches. They were signallers, and carried a telephone at least five
times across that space, but the line was generally cut by shrapnel.
“I can see a few bayonets sticking out from the Turkish trench
immediately to the north” (probably Johnston’s Jolly). “A
report comes along that Turks have been seen massing for a
counter-attack.... Messengers say the head-cover of the Turkish
trench consisted of beams 9 inches by 4 inches.”
At 7.30. “Messages sent back from all commanders in the captured
trenches say the position is satisfactory. Seventy Turkish prisoners
are awaiting an opportunity to be sent across. We have taken three
trenches, about 200 to 300 yards ahead. Fire is quietening, although
shells are still falling thick.”[156]
[Sidenote: TURKISH COUNTER-ATTACKS]
The Turks thus seen were indeed massing for a counter-attack. At
6.30 the signal, “Everything O.K.,” had been passed to the Brigade
Headquarters, but about half an hour later the enemy came swarming
up the slope through communication trenches, bent upon recovering the
position with bombs and bayonets. The desperate hand-to-hand conflict
was renewed in the gathering darkness; but, impeded though they were
by prisoners, wounded, and the numbers of dead bodies (which they
attempted to arrange in rows along the sides of the trenches so as to
leave a gangway clear), the Australians held the ground already won.
Again, at 1.30, in the blackness of night, the Turks in great masses
attempted to bomb them out with showers of hand missiles, and for seven
hours the counter-attacks continued. So heavy were the losses that the
12th Battalion (South Australian, West Australian, and Tasmanian),
which had been held as reserve for the 3rd Brigade, was thrown in to
reinforce. At 1.30 p.m. of Saturday the 7th, the attacks were renewed,
and the struggle lasted till about 5 p.m. (twenty-four hours after our
first assault), broke out again at midnight, and was continued till
dawn on Sunday the 8th.
Meantime, the peril of crossing the open ground had been to some extent
averted by parties of sappers under Colonel Elliott and Major Martyn.
In the early afternoon of the 6th, before the attack began, three mines
had been exploded from tunnels thrown forward from the subterranean
trench or gallery above mentioned. Taking advantage of the craters thus
made, the sappers hurriedly bored tunnels through into the Turkish
trenches, so connecting the gallery with the Lone Pine position. Down
these new tunnels the wounded and prisoners could be safely conveyed
on the 7th, past the craters into the gallery, and from the gallery
down the old tunnels into our original trenches on the Pimple. It was a
noble piece of engineering, saving many lives, and for the rest of the
campaign all communication with the Lone Pine outpost passed through
tunnels.
Sunday was chiefly spent in barricading the entrances of the enemy’s
communication trenches with hundreds of sandbags, and in fortifying the
position at other points. As it was impossible to bring away all the
dead for burial, some of the bodies, both Turk and Australian, were
buried by being built in among the sandbags and other barricades, so
that for many weeks afterwards the position was haunted by the smell of
corruption. During this fortification, the men were continually exposed
to bombing and assaults. So heavy had been the 2nd Battalion’s loss
that on Sunday it was relieved by the 7th Battalion (Victoria), which
had been held in reserve for the 2nd Brigade. The reinforcement was
fortunate, for at dawn on Monday the 9th the new battalion was called
upon to resist the last of the violent counter-attacks, when for nearly
three hours the Turks attempted to recover the position by repeated
assaults up the southern and eastern slopes. After this repulse, the
enemy continued to attack with bombs and guns till Thursday the 12th,
but with less determination. Thus the conflict lasted for six days
and nights in all. The position was finally won and held, but Lone
Pine remained a dangerous or “unhealthy” point to the end. Our losses
were very heavy. After the first counter-attacks, 1000 dead--Anzac and
Turk--were roughly reckoned in the trenches. But the service in gaining
the fortress, and in holding a large Turkish force in position, was
incalculable. Praising the resolute tenacity of the Australian men and
officers, Sir Ian wrote in his dispatch:
“The stout-heartedness with which they clung to the captured ground
in spite of fatigue, severe losses, and the continual strain of
shell-fire and bomb attacks may seem less striking to the civilian;
it is even more admirable to the soldier.”
[Sidenote: GERMAN OFFICERS’ TRENCHES ATTACKED]
In this manner Lone Pine was taken and held. But before the sun rose
on August 7, the remainder of the Australian Division’s line from the
Pimple running left or north to the apex of the triangle at the Nek was
the scene of contests no less heroic though less successful. The whole
line was engaged, but the points from which our attacks issued were
four--Steel’s Post, Quinn’s Post, Pope’s Hill, and Russell’s Top--from
right to left. The 2nd Infantry Brigade (Victoria) was holding the line
at Steel’s Post, and the 6th Battalion (Colonel Bennett) was chosen
for an assault upon the opposite Turkish stronghold, known as German
Officers’ Trenches, because at the armistice some German officers
came out of them. It was a position of strength almost equal to Lone
Pine, and here also tunnels had been dug forward from our lines and
connected by a gallery at the end. Three mines were exploded between
eleven and twelve on the night of the 6th, and a heavy bombardment was
concentrated on the Turkish position, but without much effect beyond
warning the enemy to expect attack. On the stroke of midnight, the
first line struggled out of the gallery through holes in the surface,
but were at once mowed down by concentrated machine-gun fire. Few
advanced more than 2 yards. Most fell back dying or wounded into the
gallery. A second attempt was made just before 4 a.m. on the 7th, but
failed in like manner. It seems that a third attempt was contemplated
by General Walker, but Brigadier-General Forsyth perceived the
uselessness of further sacrifice, believing that the object of holding
the Turks in position had been gained now that the main attacks on Sari
Bair and at Suvla were in full progress.[157]
Farther to the left, the line was held by the 1st Light Horse Brigade
(Brigadier-General H. G. Chauvel), and from Quinn’s Post the 2nd
Regiment (Queensland) was ordered to attack in four lines of fifty
each, apparently about dawn. The Turkish trenches were barely more than
15 yards away, but not one of our first line reached them, unless it
was Major Logan, who led one of the two parties into which the line was
divided, and is believed to have fallen dead over the Turkish parapet.
Lieutenant Bourne, who led the other party, was killed in the first 10
yards. All in the line were killed or wounded, except one man, who said
he observed where the machine-gun bullets were striking our parapet
most thickly, and leapt clean above them and over the top. So terrible
was the loss that the order for the other three lines to attack was
cancelled.[158]
During this brief and deadly attempt, the 1st Regiment (New South
Wales) of the same Light Horse Brigade made a sortie from Pope’s
Hill, lying to the left of Quinn’s but slightly in rear. The object
was to recover some trenches dug by the 4th Infantry Brigade on May
2 upon the farther side of a steep cleft in which one of the ravines
contributing to Monash Gully ends. From these trenches, one above the
other, the Turks harassed, not only Pope’s Hill and Monash Gully,
but exposed parts of the main Shrapnel Gully itself. Soon after dawn
Major T. W. Glasgow led the attack with two squadrons, and succeeded
in storming the first three trenches, though at one moment the men
in the second trench were bombing their own comrades in the third,
in ignorance of their rapid advance. It was a fight with bombs, and
our supply had to be brought from Pope’s across the open. The Turks,
flinging bombs from the top edge of the steep gully, which is only
40 or 50 yards across at this point, had every advantage, and after
two hours’ conflict the survivors of the squadrons were withdrawn,
but carried in the wounded. Major Glasgow, though in the thick of the
fighting throughout, was almost the only man untouched.
[Sidenote: THE NEK]
Even more terrible than these lesser contests along the right side
of the Anzac triangle was the attempt to capture the open Nek, still
farther to the left, just at the apex of the whole Anzac position,
as has been before explained. The Nek itself is an isthmus of high
cliff, flat and open at the top, connecting the main range of Sari
Bair with the elevated Anzac position known as Russell’s Top. It is
about 80 yards long and little over 100 yards in breadth across. On
the right or south-east side it falls steeply down into Monash Gully,
and looks across to Pope’s Hill and Quinn’s. On the left or north-west
side it falls as a precipitous and almost inaccessible cliff, looking
over the deep ravines that run to Ocean Beach. Since the furious
counter-attacks in the days following the landing, the Nek had been a
vital point for both sides, and at their end, to guard against a sortie
across the isthmus, the Turks had constructed a powerful redoubt,
known as “The Chessboard” from its complicated chequer of trenches.
Behind this redoubt the ground slopes gradually up to the smooth, round
knoll, called Baby 700, whence the main ridge could be easily ascended
to the height of Chunuk Bair. But Koja Chemen Tepe (Hill 971), the
loftiest point of the Sari Bair range, is divided from Chunuk Bair by a
precipitous ravine visible only from the Suvla district.
[Sidenote: THE LIGHT HORSE CHARGE]
The assault from Russell’s Top across this terrific position was
entrusted to the 8th (Victorian) and the 10th (West Australian)
Regiments of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade (Brigadier-General F. G.
Hughes). Two parties of 150 men apiece were selected for the charge
from each of the two regiments--600 men in all. Just before dawn on
Saturday, the 7th, they filed into the Russell’s Top trenches, all
in their shirts and “shorts,” with sleeves rolled up, but carrying
water-bottles and their packs containing food, photographs, letters,
and “souvenirs,” such as soldiers like, though hardly one of them
wanted food or looked at mementoes again. Each man had 200 rounds also,
but was ordered to trust to the fixed bayonet alone. The first line
took two scaling-ladders, and the fourth was provided with picks and
shovels.
[Illustration: MONASH GULLY, LOOKING TOWARDS THE NEK]
At 4 a.m. a heavy bombardment from all available guns was poured
upon the carefully registered Chessboard, and it lasted twenty-five
minutes. Lieut.-Colonel A. H. White, commanding the 8th Regiment,
said to the Brigade-Major, “Good-bye, Antill!” and with two other
officers stood by the parapet watching the minute hand move. “Three
minutes to go,” he said, and then simply “Go!”[159] Springing from pegs
placed in the parapet as foot-rests, the 150 leapt into the open. They
leapt into a blinding storm of bullets. Turks, raised tier above tier
in the Chessboard, poured bullets upon them at 80 yards’ distance.
Machine-guns in the Chessboard and in the trenches opposite Quinn’s
pumped bullets upon them as from fire-hoses in convergent streams.
A French “75,” captured by the Turks from the Serbians in the first
Balkan War, burst shrapnel low above their heads every ten seconds.
Many rolled back from the parapet to die in their own trenches. Colonel
White was killed within the first 10 yards. Not one of the 150 got more
than half-way across the brief space of the Nek.
Two minutes later, the second line sprang over the parapet in like
manner, and followed to the same destruction. But by some means unknown
a few of them--probably not more than five or six--actually reached an
enemy’s trench opposite our extreme right; for a small red and yellow
flag was seen for about two minutes waving over the enemy’s parapet,
and this was the agreed signal for another stage in the attack. It
disappeared, but none the less a party of the 8th Royal Welsh Fusiliers
(40th Brigade, 13th Division) answered the signal by attempting to
force their way up the end of Monash Gully on to the Nek, and their
first two groups shared the fate of the Australians on the open top.
Almost at the same moment (ten minutes after the second line had gone)
the third line (Western Australians) followed them. But while about
forty were still under cover of a depression on our left, General
Hughes, no doubt appalled at the useless slaughter, ordered the attack
to cease, and a few crawled back into safety. The next night a private
who had shammed death all day at the foot of the Turkish parapet also
came in. The assault lasted just a quarter of an hour, and so far as
holding a large force of the enemy went, it was successful. But in that
quarter of an hour the loss was 435, including 20 officers and 232 men
killed or missing--the words were identical.
If we seek a parallel to the 600 at Balaclava, it was there. But a
Turkish schoolmaster, who fought in the first trench of the Chessboard
that morning and was afterwards taken prisoner, said that the Turks did
not lose a single man.[160] Our two scaling-ladders remained abandoned
in the open.
CHAPTER XI
SARI BAIR
From the Nek, the Chessboard, and Baby 700, the main ridge or
mountain of Sari Bair rises steadily, like a great rounded shoulder,
to Battleship Hill (so called from an early naval bombardment), and
thence, after a long but slight depression, which from the sea looks
like a continuous ridge, rises again to the broad and massive front of
Chunuk Bair, about 850 feet in height. Towards the sea, the mountain
Chunuk shows an apparently precipitous face, split in the centre
by a cleft too steep to be called a watercourse. It is rather what
mountaineers mean by a “chimney.” But except on this actual face, the
mountain range is not so steep as it appears, nor so inaccessible,
being of softish sandstone mixed with marl, like the whole of the
district. Hard limestones, or the only formations which are called
“rock” by every one but geologists, are not found till one reaches the
genuinely rocky hill on the south side of Suvla Bay, and the still more
rocky edge on the north.
From Chunuk Bair the range continues its north-easterly trend, the
sky-line again showing a slight depression or dip till it rises to a
similar but lesser height, which we at first called “Nameless Hill,”
but more generally “Hill Q.” Beyond “Hill Q” the ridge is again
slightly lower and flattish along the summit till it is split across
unexpectedly by a precipitous ravine, which appears to cut sheer down
to a level of less than half the mountain’s height. Both sides of the
ravine are unusually steep and jagged, so that it would be impossible
for troops by continuing an advance along the sky-line of the ridge
to gain the highest summit, which rises steeply from the farther side
of the ravine. This summit, the crowning-point of the range gradually
rising, as we have seen, from the beach at Chatham Post, is Koja Chemen
Tepe, generally known as Hill 971 (its height in feet). The top, being
thrown back to the north-east, is invisible from Anzac, but plainly
seen from Imbros, the sea, and Suvla, dominating the region. The ravine
is not revealed till Suvla is reached.
These joint heights of Chunuk and “Hill Q,” together with the
disconnected height of Koja Chemen, were the first objectives in the
main attack of August 6 to 10. The ultimate objective remained as
before--the clearing of the Narrows by reaching Maidos, cutting the
Turkish communications with Achi Baba and Krithia over the Kilid Bahr
plateau, and dominating the forts on the Asiatic side. Some critics,
both at the time and since, have maintained that the ultimate objective
could better have been won by making the main attack from Suvla with
all available forces. But at the time, when many believed this to be
Sir Ian’s design, an advance from Suvla into the heart of the Peninsula
appeared to me impossible so long as the enemy held the Sari Bair range
as a perpetual threat to the right flank of our advancing columns;
and not merely the heart of the Peninsula, but the coast-line of the
Straits, would have to be reached before the enemy’s forces to the
south could be cut off. It is true that an advance from Anzac, or even
from Suvla, was partially threatened by forces on Kilid Bahr plateau.
But from Anzac the passage to the Straits was brief, and from Suvla
it was protected by Sari Bair itself, provided only that we held that
mountain range. Otherwise it was out of the question.
[Sidenote: THE NATURE OF THE COUNTRY]
So the objective of the main attack from Anzac was simple; but the
means of approach presented extraordinary difficulties. As at Anzac
itself, the front of the range breaks down to the sea in a crumbled and
complicated formation of edges, ridges, spurs, cliffs, and ravines,
the haphazard and perennial work of winter storms and rains acting
for ages upon soft sandstone and sandy deposits mixed with clay
and a little chalk. This labyrinthine region naturally follows the
north-easterly course of the hills out of which water has carved it,
leaving a gradually extending plain along the seacoast as far as the
low hills forming Nibrunesi Point, the southern extremity of Suvla
Bay. Sometimes at night small parties of chosen New Zealand officers
stole out to explore the labyrinth, and their reconnaissance was of
the highest value. But the district had never been surveyed, and the
tortuous watercourses, the unexpected cliffs and ravines, complicated
by almost impenetrable and spiky bush, threatened inextricable error to
any wanderer there, even by daylight and in peace. Imagine, then, the
perplexity of threading those unknown ways in a total darkness haunted
by the expectation of deadly fire at every turn in the ravines, from
the blackness of every thicket, and the edge of every cliff! One or
two Greek and Turkish guides were available, but employed without much
confidence.
For the better understanding of the great assault, the following points
in the geography might be remembered. Proceeding by the Long Sap,
then lately constructed, parallel with the seashore from Ari Burnu
northward, soon after passing No. 1 Post one crosses Sazli Beit Dere,
a dry watercourse on which the “Fishermen’s Huts” of the first landing
stood. About 600 yards farther on, after passing No. 2 and No. 3 Posts,
one reaches Chailak Dere, close to the mouth of which the “diviner”
discovered copious subterranean water, as previously described. Both
these Deres, or dry watercourses, run at right angles to the coast,
coming down from the fort of Chunuk Bair by devious, zigzag courses,
but generally parallel in direction, though the upper courses tend
to converge. The steep and lofty ground standing between the two
Deres is marked by the three points of Old No. 3 Post, Table Top, and
Rhododendron Spur, which runs up to the shoulder of Chunuk Bair itself.
Emerging from the Long Sap near the mouth of Chailak Dere, and
proceeding along the flats sheltered after this attack by a parapet
for about 1000 yards, one reaches the Aghyl Dere, which runs fairly
parallel with the other two in its lower course, but splits into two
Deres about a mile from the mouth, the right-hand tributary converging
rapidly with Chailak Dere, till they almost meet at the foot of Chunuk
Bair, the left-hand tributary bearing away north-east towards the foot
of Hill Q and Koja Chemen Tepe. The ground between Chailak Dere and
Aghyl Dere is chiefly marked by Bauchop’s Hill and Little Table Top.
At the source of Aghyl Dere’s southern tributary, high up the front of
the mountain, and just at the foot of Chunuk Bair’s precipitous cliff,
lies a small patch of cultivated ground, in that year yellow with corn
stubble, conspicuous from Suvla and the sea. A few brown sheds and a
sort of dwelling stood on the farther side. This was the Farm.
[Sidenote: THE MAIN WATERCOURSES]
Proceeding northward again along “Ocean Beach” from the mouth of Aghyl
Dere, one reaches a Dere commonly called Asmak, though it has other
names (Iram Chai or Kasa Dere). This is the main watercourse draining
the broad and open valley in which Biyuk (or Greater) Anafarta stands
in a beautiful grove of cypresses, about three and a half miles from
the sea. Several other Deres in the district are called “Asmak,” and it
is probable that the name “Asma,” by which we knew the main tributary
to this Dere, is really the same word. But, to keep the distinction,
the Asma Dere runs into the Asmak nearly a mile from the mouth, and
following its course, instead of going straight on to Biyuk Anafarta,
one proceeds by a wide arc southward till the foot of Koja Chemen is
reached. There one finds that the source is not far removed from the
source of the northern branch of the Aghyl Dere, since both drain the
highest section of the main ridge. The large space of ground thus
almost enclosed between the Aghyl Dere on the south and the Asmak and
Asma Deres beyond is singularly difficult and intricate. The low but
steep hills and cliffs are sharply intersected by ravines running in
every direction. The district is a jumble of sandy but hard mounds
and scarps and fissures, with here and there a narrow slip or tongue
of level ground running up among them. Few distinctive features mark
locality, but about a mile from the sea stands a mass of low hill or
broken plateau called Damakjelik Bair or Hill 40; and about another
two-thirds of a mile inland to the north-east, across a brief but steep
watercourse called Kaiajik Dere (another tributary to the Asmak),
rises a similar but slightly higher mass of low hill or broken plateau
called Kaiajik Aghala, soon to be famous as Hill 60. The Asma Dere runs
past the farther side of Hill 60, and beyond the Asma rises the steep,
long ridge of Abdel Rahman Bair, one of the main northern spurs or
buttresses of Koja Chemen itself.
This bare analysis of a difficult country covers the ground of the main
August attack, and the hills or watercourses named may serve as guides
to the comprehension of the obscure and desperate conflicts. But no
analysis or map or description can adequately express the roughness
and complexity of that desert jungle, the steepness of its cliffs and
spurs and edges, or the bewilderment of its dry watercourses, creeks,
fissures, and ravines. Neither in the British island nor in Ireland is
there a scene to compare with it, because in our islands the frequent
rain and prevailing moisture smooth off the edges, fill the ravines
with water, and cover even the crags with moss and ferns or grasses.
The nearest resemblance I have seen was in the crinkled hills and
cliffs upon the West Coast of Africa near Benguela. But there the
yellow spurs and ravines are absolutely bare. On the Sari Mountains,
parts of the lower slopes are concealed with the thick, prickly bush
so often mentioned; parts with low pines. The summits are coated with
thin grass and heath, while some of the ravines and sheltered spurs
were then brilliant with the crimson flowering oleander, which our
men called rhododendron, though it differs from the alien product
introduced as an embellishment into English parks.
[Sidenote: GENERAL GODLEY’S FORCE]
The design of the main attack was drawn by Brigadier-General A.
Skeen, the very able Chief of Staff at Anzac. It was accepted by
Lieut.-General Birdwood, and approved by Sir Ian. Its execution was
entrusted to Major-General Sir Alexander J. Godley, commanding the New
Zealand and Australian Division. It was a complicated scheme--perhaps
necessarily complicated owing to the intricacy of the ground, which
prevented the united action of large bodies of troops, and rendered
advance impossible except by thin columns sinuously winding up the
Deres like snakes. Accordingly, General Godley was compelled to divide
his troops. For the night attack of August 6–7 he divided them into
two columns--a right and a left--each column being subdivided into a
covering or advanced force, and an assaulting or main force. In Anzac
as a whole (Sir Ian in his dispatch tells us) the troops at General
Birdwood’s disposal amounted in round numbers to 37,000 rifles and 72
guns, with naval support from two cruisers, four monitors, and two
destroyers. Of these military forces the following contingents were
allotted to Major-General Godley for his enterprise:
His own New Zealand and Australian Division (less the 1st and 3rd Light
Horse Brigades, desperately engaged upon the Anzac heights and the
Nek, as we have seen);
The 13th Division under Major-General Shaw (less the 38th Brigade
allotted to Army Corps Reserve and two battalions of the 40th Brigade
at Anzac);
The 29th Indian Infantry Brigade (Major-General Cox);
The Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade (Lieut.-Colonel Parker, R.A.).
The Army Corps Reserve was the 29th Brigade, 10th Division (less one
battalion), the 38th Brigade, 13th Division, and two battalions of the
40th Brigade.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: HIS ARRANGEMENT OF THE FORCE]
For the approach and first assault General Godley divided this force as
follows, assigning to each of the four parts the objective mentioned
below:
(1) _Right Covering Force_--
Brigadier-General A. H. Russell, New Zealand Mounted Rifles--
New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, and
Wellington Regiments);
Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment (Divisional Troops);
New Zealand Engineers Field Troop;
The Maori Contingent (about 500 under Lieut.-Colonel A. H.
Herbert).
This force was to advance up Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres, and seize
Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, and Bauchop Hill.
(2) _Right Assaulting Column_--
Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston, New Zealand Infantry Brigade--
New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, Otago, and
Wellington Battalions);
26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);
No. 1 Company New Zealand Engineers.
This assaulting column was to follow the covering force up the Sazli
Beit and Chailak Deres, and push on to the attack of Chunuk Bair.
(3) _Left Covering Force_--
Brigadier-General J. H. du B. Travers, 40th Infantry Brigade--
Two Battalions of the 40th Infantry Brigade, _i.e._ 4th South
Wales Borderers and 5th Wiltshire;
Half the 72nd Field Company Royal Engineers.
This force was to occupy Damakjelik Bair so as to cover the advance up
Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the troops landing at Suvla.
(4) _Left Assaulting Column_--
Brigadier-General H. V. Cox, 29th Indian Infantry Brigade--
29th Indian Infantry Brigade (14th Sikhs, 5th, 6th, and 10th
Gurkha Rifles);
4th Australian Infantry Brigade (13th New South Wales, 14th
Victoria, 15th Queensland and Tasmania, 16th South and West
Australian Battalions);
21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);
No. 2 Company New Zealand Engineers.
This left assaulting column was to advance up the Aghyl Dere to the
attack on Koja Chemen (Hill 971), and at the same time to protect
the left flank of the whole force as soon as it had cleared its own
covering force.
The Divisional Reserve was made up of remaining battalions of the 13th
Division under Major-General F. C. Shaw, two battalions being stationed
at Chailak Dere, and the 39th Brigade at Aghyl Dere, with half the 72nd
Field Company R.E.
The total forces under General Godley’s command were estimated at about
12,000 men.[161]
* * * * *
For the sake of clearness, the ensuing movements may be divided into
four stages of about twenty-four hours each, counting from evening to
evening.
_Evening, August 6, to evening, August 7._
In the gathering darkness, about 9 p.m., on Friday, August 6, the whole
force mustered between No. 2 and No. 3 Posts, having marched out from
Anzac concealed by the shelter of the Long Sap. General Godley fixed
his headquarters at No. 2 Post, and here the main supply of ammunition
and water-cans was organised. The movements of the two covering forces
and the two assaulting columns may be followed in the order given
above, but it must be remembered that, in point of time, they were
frequently simultaneous. The first task of the Right Covering Force
(Brigadier-General Russell with his New Zealanders) was to clear the
Turkish positions which dominated the lower course of the Sazli Beit
and Chailak Deres--Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, between the Deres,
and Bauchop’s Hill on the farther side of Chailak.
[Illustration:
_Elliott & Fry_]
MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ALEXANDER GODLEY]
[Sidenote: OLD NO. 3 POST CAPTURED]
Old No. 3 Post is a steep and prominent hill, some 200 feet high,
which we occupied as an extreme outpost soon after the landing, but
lost on May 30, since when No. 3 Post, a similar but lower hill close
to the shore, had been held as outpost by Lieut.-Colonel Bauchop with
his Otago Mounted Rifles, other New Zealanders, and Maoris in turn.
Since the Turks had recovered the Old Post they had converted it into
a fortress of great strength, with entanglements, deep trenches, and
head cover of solid timber balks. For its recapture a successful ruse
was practised. For some weeks past, the destroyer _Colne_ (Commander
Claude Seymour) had turned a vivid searchlight on to the hill, and
bombarded it from 9 p.m. to 9.10 p.m. precisely, always repeating
both operations from 9.20 to 9.30. This regularity had persuaded the
Turks to regard the bombardment as a kind of Angelus or signal for a
consecrated interval during which it was permissible to retire from
the front trenches into the restful seclusion of tunnels and dug-outs.
When the rite concluded, an old Turk, naturally nicknamed Achmet, used
to trot round like a lamplighter, tying up the broken wires, and in a
friendly spirit the New Zealanders agreed not to shoot him.[162] But
now there was no more work for Achmet. Hidden beneath the blaze of
the searchlight during the second customary bombardment, the Auckland
Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Mackesy) stole across to the hill and climbed
to the very top of the trenches. The moment that the light was switched
off they were in among the Turks with bayonet and bomb (no rifle
cartridges were issued to the covering forces that night). They found
many Turks taking their ease in the cool of the evening, without coats
or boots. Seventy were captured. The rest died, or scurried away down
communication trenches. These trenches were not finally cleared till 11
p.m.
Meanwhile the attack on Big Table Top had far advanced. This hill,
so conspicuous from northern Anzac for its precipitous sides and a
flat top which appears even to overhang the sides, in reality forms
part of the same long spur as Old No. 3 Post, and is connected with
it by a ridge worn to a razor-edge by weather. The main hill, which
rises to about 400 feet, was heavily bombarded by howitzers from the
shore and by the _Colne_, as she turned her guns off the Old Post at
9.30. It appears probable that the destroyer _Chelmer_ (Commander
Hugh T. England) joined in this bombardment; at all events, for this
or other service she was coupled with the _Colne_ in dispatches. The
bombardment lasted half an hour, and at 10 p.m. the infantry assault
began upon a precipice steeper than the angle noted in text-books as
“impracticable for infantry.” The Canterbury Regiment led the way.
Impeded by rifles, fixed bayonets, packs, and other equipment, in
darkness lit only by stars, they scaled a height which appears as
precipitous as any overhanging English cliff, held by a brave and
religiously inspired enemy. Of this exploit Sir Ian in his dispatch
justly observes, “there are moments during battle when life becomes
intensified.” In such a moment the New Zealanders, some of whom
had practised mountain-climbing in the New Zealand Alps under such
mountaineers as Mr. Malcolm Ross, their correspondent, climbed that
seemingly inaccessible redoubt, more like a huge fortress tower than
a hill. Pulling themselves up by their arms, while their legs hung
in air, they stood upon the summit and stormed in upon the Turkish
defences. The surviving Turks escaped up a long communication trench
running across a narrow dip or Nek to the main Rhododendron Ridge, and
the second dominating height between the Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres
was won. The time was close upon midnight.
Whilst part of the covering force was thus victorious, the Otago
Mounted Rifles, with some Maoris, had been for a while checked in
attempting to penetrate up the Chailak Dere. Not more than a few
hundred yards up this watercourse (then no more watery than those
mounted troops were on horseback) the Turks had constructed an
enormously strong barricade of thick wire and beams, commanded by an
outpost only a few yards farther up. Right against this obstacle the
Otago men came. A sudden outburst of fire from the trench beyond cut
many down. They were so thick and close that no bullet which made its
way through the deep network of wires could miss. The cutters came
forward and began snipping the spiky ropes of iron. But many fell
before a party of New Zealand Engineers (Captain Shera) forced a narrow
passage. The advance up the Dere was thus delayed; but we who saw the
remains of that barricade after it was partially cleared know there was
nothing to choose between the heroism of those who cut the way through
and of those who scaled the Table Top.
[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF BAUCHOP’S HILL]
Perhaps owing to this delay, or perhaps by plan, the main body of Otago
Mounted Rifles did not follow up the Chailak Dere, but crossed it
near the mouth, and turning sharply to the right a little farther on,
advanced to assault the mass of low and complicated hill already known
as Bauchop’s owing to his reconnaissance. Nature and military art had
entrenched the position throughout, and it was intersected criss-cross
by deep ravines. But the Turks did not hold it strongly. Startled by
the Otago men, who worked round their right flank and attacked from the
north side, they began to clear out of the bivouacs in which they had
long lived in fairly comfortable leisure and were now surprised. At the
first assault, Lieut.-Colonel A. Bauchop, while shouting, “Come on,
boys! Charge!” fell mortally wounded by a bullet in the spine. The army
thus lost one of its most capable officers, and a man of exceptionally
attractive nature, who for months had commanded a position of great
risk and responsibility. The occupation of the hill or system of
ravines was completed just after 1 a.m. (August 7). The task set the
Right Covering Force was accomplished.
[Illustration: BIG TABLE TOP]
[Sidenote: CLIMBING OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]
Half an hour after midnight the Right Assaulting Column was thus
enabled to begin its advance up the two Deres. As above mentioned, its
main force was the New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General
F. E. Johnston). The Canterbury Battalion proceeded alone up the Sazli
Beit Dere, and met with small difficulty except from the nature of
the ground, which, indeed, was so intricate that half the battalion
lost its way and found itself back at the starting-point.[163] In
consequence, Colonel J. G. Hughes could not muster the battalion for
the ascent of the main spur (Rhododendron Ridge, at first called
Canterbury Ridge) till just before dawn. The other three battalions
(Otago, Auckland, and Wellington, in that order) advancing up the
Chailak Dere were equally hampered by the obscure and tangled country.
They also encountered violent opposition, which compelled the leading
battalion to deploy in the darkness. Some of the troops were told
off to assist the covering force on their left in finally clearing
Bauchop’s Hill and another smaller eminence known as Little Table
Top.[164] But pushing steadily forward, the three battalions
succeeded, though late, in joining up with the Canterbury Battalion on
the lower slopes of the main Rhododendron Ridge, which ran straight
up to the right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair, now deep purple
against the rising sun.
The attack upon this central height was to have been made before dawn.
It was late. Under increasing daylight, shrapnel began to spit and
shower overhead, striking with cross-fire from Battleship Hill and a
position on the left crest of Chunuk. The men were much exhausted.
They had accomplished a night march of extreme difficulty, exposed to
continuous perils and surprises. Nevertheless, the united battalions
struggled forward up the ridge, rough with every obstacle and rising
with a steep gradient. After a toilsome climb, at 8 a.m. they reached a
point (almost at once called the Mustard Plaster, but afterwards known
as the Apex) where a depression in the ridge afforded some slight cover
from the guns, and there they hurriedly entrenched a position. On the
left it hangs above the Farm, upon which the farthest end of it looks
steeply down. A narrow but uninterrupted Nek of some 400 or 500 yards
(roughly a quarter-mile) extends the ridge to the sky-line summit--the
right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair.
[Sidenote: THE ASMA DERE AND THE FARM]
Meantime, on the previous evening, the Left Covering Force
(Brigadier-General Travers) had followed so closely upon the heels of
the Right Covering Force along the shore that they had to pass through
them at the mouth of Chailak Dere. When clear, they proceeded straight
forward along the level to Aghyl Dere, though exposed to desultory fire
from Bauchop’s Hill, not yet fully occupied. Turning sharply up the
Dere, they emerged from it to the left and seized the entrenchments
on the confused heights of Damakjelik Bair with so impetuous a rush
that some Turkish officers were caught in the unsuspecting security
of pyjamas. In this attack the 4th South Wales Borderers (under
Lieut.-Colonel F. M. Gillespie, an exceptionally fine officer)
especially distinguished themselves, and by 1.30 a.m. the position was
securely held. The force was thus able to cover the advance of the
assaulting column up the Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the
Suvla landing farther north.
The Left Assaulting Column, consisting, as was mentioned, of the 4th
Australian Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General Monash) and the Indian
Brigade, the whole under command of Brigadier-General Cox, after
breaking from their permanent camp at the foot of the Sphinx, came at
once under a storm of shrapnel. They followed the Covering Force almost
too closely, and found themselves strongly opposed after advancing some
distance up the Aghyl Dere. General Monash threw out one battalion
as a screen, and progress was very slow, the intersecting ravines
making the ground almost impenetrable. At the confluence of the two
tributaries which form the main Dere, General Monash moved up the
northern fork, keeping two battalions well away to his left in the hope
of co-operating with the Suvla force in the projected assault upon Koja
Chemen Tepe. During this slow and obstructed advance, the Australians
discovered the emplacements of two “75’s,” which had long troubled
Anzac, where they were called “the Anafartas,” but the guns had been
hurried away. It was not till dawn that the brigade reached the ridge
above the upper reaches of the Asma Dere. There General Monash received
the order to concentrate the battalions, leave a guard for his present
position, and attack the towering height of Koja Chemen. The Sikh
Battalion of the Indian Brigade was sent up from the southern branch of
the Aghyl Dere in his support. But the enemy in front was now strong
and fully aroused. The Australians were exhausted by their toilsome
and hazardous march. No farther advance could be made, and the ridge
overlooking the Asma was hurriedly entrenched.
The remaining three Indian Battalions (Gurkha Rifles) persistently
clambered up the steep course of the Aghyl Dere’s southern fork, till
they reached a position facing the Farm. Their right thus came into
touch with the New Zealanders on Rhododendron Ridge, while their
centre and left stood ready to climb the steep front of the main range
and assault “Hill Q.” By about 9 a.m. (August 7) the whole force was
thus extended in a broken and irregular line from the upper slopes of
Rhododendron Ridge, past the front of the Farm, down the southern fork
of the Aghyl Dere, along the northern fork, and across the rugged
ground above the Asma Dere. The right flank rested on Anzac and held
the important positions of Old No. 3 Post and Table Top. The left
flank was guarded by Damakjelik Bair and by the division now landed at
Suvla, whose co-operation was counted upon. Except for a delay of about
three hours, all the movements had been carried out as designed. But
the Turks could now be seen swarming along the summits from Battleship
Hill. Every hour the heat was increasing to extreme intensity. General
Birdwood truly said in his report, “The troops had performed a feat
which is without parallel.” But by this feat they were now exhausted.
A general attempt to renew the attack was made at 9.30 a.m., but the
task was too heavy. About 11 a.m. again, the Auckland Battalion,
hitherto in reserve, bravely struggled up the narrow Nek (only some 40
yards broad), which, as described above, forms the end of Rhododendron
Ridge, connecting it with the summit. But they were swept by Turkish
guns apparently near “Hill Q,” and on reaching a Turkish trench only
about 200 yards from the top, they were driven back.[165] Orders were,
therefore, issued to both columns to strengthen and hold their present
positions with a view to further advance before dawn on the following
day. Meantime, supplies were sent up, so far as possible, from the
advanced base at No. 2 Post. As usual throughout the campaign, the
supply of water was the greatest need and the greatest difficulty, fine
as was the conduct of the Indian drivers of water mules. The convoys
were also continually exposed to shrapnel from the heights, and to the
rifle-fire of snipers still lurking in large numbers invisible among
the bushes and ravines of the wide stretch of country occupied during
the night.
_From the evening of August 7 to the evening of August 8._
[Sidenote: RE-ARRANGEMENT FOR AUGUST 8]
During the evening both of the Assaulting Columns were reinforced. The
Right Column (Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston) received the Auckland
Mounted Rifles and the Maori contingent from the Right Covering Force,
together with two battalions (8th Welsh Pioneers and 7th Gloucesters)
from the 13th Division in reserve. The Left Assaulting Column
(Brigadier-General H. V. Cox) received three battalions from the 39th
Brigade, 13th Division (9th R. Warwicks, 9th Worcesters, and 7th North
Staffords, the 7th Gloucesters going to the Right Column, as above),
together with the 6th South Lancashire (38th Brigade). The Right
Column was to proceed with the attack on Chunuk Bair; the Left Column
to assault “Hill Q” in the centre, and with its left to work round
north-east to the steep ridge called Abdel Rahman Bair for an assault
upon Koja Chemen Tepe.
[Sidenote: THE SUMMIT OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]
Before daylight on Sunday, August 8, the edge of the heights from
Battleship Hill to “Hill Q” was heavily bombarded by monitors and
cruisers, together with the batteries on the flats. At the first dawn
(4.15) a column, led by Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Malone, the hero of
Quinn’s Post, with his accustomed enthusiasm, dashed up the steep and
narrow slope to the summit of Rhododendron Ridge. Colonel Malone’s own
Wellington Battalion went first. The 7th Gloucesters closely followed.
The Auckland Mounted Rifles and Welsh Pioneers came in support. The
Wellingtons reached the actual top of the ridge. They sprang into a
long Turkish communication trench, which they found empty but for an
isolated party with a machine-gun just arrived from Achi Baba. They
spread out towards the right. Immediately on their left, two companies
of the Gloucesters also reached the summit, and sprang into the trench.
Against the sunrise their figures could be dimly discerned from the
sea, and the hope of victory rose high. Two other Gloucester Companies
swung slightly to the right and entrenched below the sky-line in rear
of the Wellingtons. But during the rush the Gloucesters had been
exposed to a terrible storm of shrapnel and rifle-fire coming from the
higher ground northward on their left, and were already much reduced.
As often happens in a charge, the supports came under a heavier fire
than the first lines, and though the Auckland Mounted Rifles got
through and joined the Wellingtons, it was not till the afternoon. The
remainder appear to have been checked.[166]
In the meantime the position of the British and New Zealanders upon the
summit was indeed terrible. Perceiving how small their numbers were,
the Turks turned every kind of fire upon the trench. Large parties of
them kept creeping up the trench itself from the right or southern
end, and hurling bombs. So exposed was the position that Colonel Malone
drew his men out of the trench, and marked out a fresh trench 15 yards
in rear of it. Here they dug; but tools were short, bombs were short,
and water had run out. The trench was less than a foot deep. On the
left, the Gloucester companies were almost annihilated. Attack after
attack swept up against them. Every officer was killed or wounded. In
his dispatch, Sir Ian says that by midday the battalion (apparently the
other two companies had by that time come into line) consisted of small
groups of men commanded by junior non-commissioned officers or privates.
“Chapter and verse,” he adds, “may be quoted for the view that the
rank and file of an army cannot long endure the strain of close
hand-to-hand fighting unless they are given confidence by the example
of good officers. Yet here is at least one instance where a battalion
of the New Army fought right on, from midday till sunset, without
_any_ officers.”
In a few hours Colonel Malone was compelled to withdraw again to a new
trench a few yards to the rear, because the trench recently dug was
too full of dead and dying to give the slightest cover. He himself,
as was told me by one present, carried a rifle pierced with bullets,
which he said he was keeping as a trophy for his home. Whilst he was
still carefully marking the completion of the new trench, sedulously
cultivating the domestic virtues to the last, a terrific outburst of
shrapnel showered down upon his devoted party, and he fell. It was
about 4 p.m., just after the Auckland Mounted Rifles had succeeded
in reaching the position. At 5 o’clock he died. Colonel Moore of the
Otago Battalion succeeded him, but was wounded during the night while
the dwindling force still clung to the position, and the south-west
shoulder of Chunuk Bair was ours--was uncertainly ours.
In the centre, around the Farm at the foot of the precipitous front
of Chunuk Bair, the remaining three battalions of the 39th Brigade
attempted to advance up the mountain side by keeping to the right or
south of the cultivated yellow patch and empty buildings. Similarly,
on the left or north-east side, the three Gurkha battalions crept some
distance up the spurs leading to the dip or saddle between Chunuk Bair
and “Hill Q.” This advance served them well on the following day, but
on the Sunday the proposed attack upon this section of the summit line
came to nothing owing to the murderous fire poured upon both attempts.
[Sidenote: ATTEMPT AT ABDEL RAHMAN]
On the same Sunday (August 8) the extreme left of Brigadier-General
Cox’s assaulting columns was under orders, as mentioned, to attack the
dominating height of Koja Chemen Tepe itself by way of the precipitous
northern ridge or spur called Abdel Rahman Bair. The advance began in
darkness at 3 a.m. Leaving the 13th (New South Wales) Battalion to hold
the ridge overlooking Asma Dere and now entrenched, Brigadier-General
Monash placed the 15th (Queensland and Tasmania, under Lieut.-Colonel
Cannan) Battalion of his 4th Australian Brigade in front, the 14th
(Victoria, under Major Rankine) and the 16th (S. and W. Australia,
under Lieut.-Colonel Pope) following closely. Sliding down the steep
descent of sandstone rock from the top of their ridge, the men formed
up into column in the valley of Asma Dere below, and cautiously
advanced, avoiding a field of standing wheat lest the rustle should
arouse the enemy. They had not gone far over the rough and pathless
waste when a few shots and dimly discerned figures hastening away
showed that they had struck into the enemy’s outposts. The 15th
Battalion accordingly deployed, and threw a platoon forward as a
screen. Thus the advance was continued for about half a mile, when the
dark mass of Abdel Rahman was seen against the gradually increasing
light, running like a vast barrier straight across their course.
Hardly had their right touched the first slopes when an overwhelming
machine-gun and rifle-fire burst upon them from the whole length of the
front. All three battalions deployed into platoons, and attempted to
continue the advance in spite of continuous loss. A screen was thrown
out to protect the left flank, which hung “in air,” exposed to attack
from Biyuk Anafarta valley and any guns there chanced to be on Ismail
Oglu Tepe (“W Hill”) beyond it.[167] If only the Divisions landed at
Suvla had seized that vital hill! Now if ever was their support called
for. But no help came. The platoons struggled up the steep bastions
of the ridge in their attempt to scale the height. But the fire was
impenetrable: the deaths too numerous. It appears that the brigade had,
in fact, fallen up against strong Turkish reinforcements coming from
Biyuk Anafarta to the main range. Sir Ian’s dispatch describes the
battalions as “virtually surrounded.” Overwhelmed, at all events, by
numbers and forced into an untenable position, they had no choice but
to hew their way back. Their loss was already 1000--more than a third
of their force. Grimly they retired, bringing their wounded in. By 9
a.m. they were back behind the ridge they had entrenched the night
before. There, though exhausted by heat, thirst, and the weariness of
prolonged effort without sleep, they maintained themselves for the rest
of the day against violent and repeated attacks.
That Sunday evening the Right Assaulting Column lay upon Rhododendron
Ridge, the main body partially sheltered in the depression afterwards
called the Apex, and the relics of three battalions clinging to the top
where it reaches the summit of the Chunuk Bair right shoulder. The Left
Assaulting Column was divided, part round the Farm and high upon its
north-east ridges, part entrenched but heavily attacked upon the ridge
overlooking Asma Dere.
_From the evening of August 8 to the evening of August 9._
[Sidenote: BALDWIN’S COLUMN ON AUGUST 9]
For the renewed attack next morning, a third assaulting column was
organised out of the 10th and 13th Divisions in the Army Corps reserve.
Brigadier-General A. H. Baldwin (38th Brigade) was instructed to
take two battalions of his own brigade (6th East Lancashire and 6th
Loyal North Lancashire) together with two from the 29th Brigade (10th
Hampshire and 6th Royal Irish Rifles) and one from the 40th Brigade
(5th Wiltshire), and assemble in the evening of August 8 in the
Chailak Dere. Advancing thence through the night, he was to follow up
Rhododendron Ridge, and co-operating with the Right Assaulting Column
(General Johnston’s) was to move in successive lines to the summit,
and thence to the left towards “Hill Q.” This was to form the main
attack of the day. General Baldwin sent the Loyal North Lancashires
forward in advance, and with the remaining four battalions began the
long and toilsome march upward. The track was by this time fairly well
trodden, and every precaution was taken to keep it clear of wounded and
“empties” coming down. Guides for the column were also provided. It
is true, the night was pitch dark, the ascent rough and, towards the
end, very steep. The column moved slowly, and was behind the appointed
time; but it is difficult to imagine that, in Sir Ian’s words, “in
plain English, Baldwin lost his way--through no fault of his own.” It
was sunrise by the time the main ascent was reached. His column would
be perfectly visible to the enemy’s artillery, and the fire was very
heavy. Perhaps the officers were attracted by the Farm as a sheltered
place in which to pause and reorganise. At all events, the column did
not reach its appointed destination, but found itself at 5.15 a.m. down
in the deep hollow of the Farm on the left of the ridge which it should
have climbed to the Apex. The Farm, being a definite point visible for
miles around owing to its patch of yellow stubble, and affording also a
certain amount of cover against fire from the height, probably tended
to attract or mislead guides and troops from their proper direction.
[Sidenote: SUMMIT NEAR HILL Q STORMED]
Just at the very time when General Baldwin’s brigade began at last
to emerge upon the Farm, a tragic and much disputed scene was being
enacted upon the summit far above them. On the previous day, as we
have noticed, part of General Cox’s column had worked their way up
the spurs on the left (north-east) of the Farm. During the night they
pushed still farther up the height, which, as noticed, appears almost
precipitous. The 6th Gurkhas were leading, under command of Major Cecil
G. L. Allanson. The 6th South Lancashires (38th Brigade) were close
behind, supported by the 9th Warwicks and 7th North Staffords (39th
Brigade), sent up to reinforce this column on the night of August 7–8,
as above mentioned. The Gurkhas climbed during the darkness to a line
about 150 yards below the crest. Here they dug what trench or shelter
was possible upon such an angle of slope, and two companies of the
South Lancashires joined them. At early dawn, about 4.30, the warships,
monitors, and guns along the shore began a terrible bombardment of the
whole crest along Chunuk Bair, “Hill Q,” and the saddle between. The
enormous shells burst upon the edge just above the small assaulting
party which crouched below, almost deafened but unharmed. A monitor’s
shell striking the sky-line flings up a spout of black smoke, huge
fragments, and dust which spreads fan-shape like the explosion of a
sudden volcano. With such explosions the whole mountain edge smoked and
shook. All parapets and shallow trenches lining the top were torn to
pieces, uprooted, and flattened out. It seemed impossible for any human
being to endure so overwhelming a visitation or to remain alive. Yet
Turks remained.
According to orders, this terrific bombardment was to be switched off
on to the flanks and reverse slopes at 5.16 a.m.[168] The moment came.
Suddenly the guns were silent. It was the signal for the storming
party. The little Gurkha mountaineers crawled up the precipice like
flies. The South Lancashire crawled, mixed up among them. They reached
the topmost edge. Hand to hand the Turks rushed upon them as they rose.
The struggle was for life or death. Major Allanson was wounded. Men
and officers fell together. But the fight was brief. Shaken by the
bombardment, overcome in daring and activity by some 400 startling
Gurkhas and solid Lancastrians, the surviving Turks suddenly turned and
ran for life down the steep slope to the refuge of the steeper gullies
below.
For a moment Major Allanson and his men paused to draw breath. They
were standing on the saddle between Chunuk Bair and “Hill Q.” The dead
lay thick around them. But below, straight in front, lit by the risen
sun, like a white serpent sliding between the purple shores, ran the
sea, the Narrows, the Dardanelles, the aim and object of all these
battles and sudden deaths. Never since Xenophon’s Ten Thousand cried
“The sea! the sea!” had sight been more welcome to a soldier’s eyes.
There went the ships. There were the transports bringing new troops
over from Asia. There ran the road to Maidos, though the town of Maidos
was just hidden by the hill before it. There was the Krithia road.
Motor-lorries moved along it carrying shells and supplies to Achi Baba.
So Sir Ian had been right. General Birdwood had been right. This was
the path to victory. Only hold that summit and victory is ours. The
Straits are opened. A conquered Turkey and a friendly Bulgaria will bar
the German path to the East. Peace will come back again, and the most
brilliant strategic conception in the war will be justified.
In triumphant enthusiasm, Gurkhas and Lancastrians raced and leapt down
the reverse slope, pursuing the Turks as they scattered and ran. Major
Allanson, though wounded, himself raced with them. They fired as they
went. It was a moment of supreme exultation. Suddenly, before they had
gone a hundred yards, crash into the midst of them fell five or six
large shells and exploded. In the words of Sir Ian’s dispatch: “Instead
of Baldwin’s support came suddenly a salvo of heavy shell.”
[Sidenote: WHENCE CAME THE DISASTROUS SHELLS?]
Where those fatal shells came from was at the time, and still remains,
a cause of bitter controversy. All on the summit believed them British.
This may have been a mistake. It is a common error for an advance line
to suppose it is being shelled by its own side. But probably the shells
were British. Outside the navy, nearly every one at the time believed
them to be naval,[169] and though the range must have been some four
or five miles, the accuracy of the naval shooting at a visible mark had
been proved by that morning’s bombardment, over the same distance. But
the general belief may have been founded on a mere suspicion constantly
repeated. It has long appeared to me that two sentences in Sir Ian’s
dispatch suggest a more probable explanation. As quoted above, he says
the orders were for the bombardment to be switched on to the flanks
and reverse slopes of the heights at 5.16 a.m. He further says that
the Gurkhas and South Lancashires, after reaching the crest, “began to
attack down the far side of it,” _i.e._ down the reverse slopes of the
hill. It would be natural for our gunners to wait some minutes before
bombarding the reverse slope, so as to catch the enemy retreating
or reinforcements coming up. In any case, they were under orders to
bombard the reverse slope, and they obeyed. But what guns could bombard
a reverse slope? As was proved throughout the campaign, the trajectory
of naval guns was so flat that either they hit the top of the mountain
(as they almost invariably did) or their shells skimmed across the top
to burst miles away in Asia. A reverse slope would be exactly the thing
they could never hit. For a reverse slope, mortars or howitzers are
wanted. There were howitzers near No. 2 Post and along the flats beside
the shore, and their orders were to bombard the reverse slope after
5.16 a.m. This explanation is suggested, but the controversy will be
forgotten before settled.
Whatever the cause, the effect was disaster irretrievable--disaster
leaving its lamentable mark upon the world’s history. Amid the
scattered limbs and shattered bodies of their comrades, the exultant
pursuers stopped aghast. They began to stumble back. They scrambled to
the crest and over it. Major Allanson with a small group stood firm,
taking one last look upon that scene of dazzling hope. But the Turkish
officers with the supports had observed the check. Seizing the moment,
they urged their fresh companies upward, in turn pursuing. Against the
gathering crowd a handful could not stand. Wounded and isolated, Major
Allanson withdrew the last of his men. Down the face of the mountain
they came upon the little trench from which they had adventurously
started less than half an hour before. They alone had witnessed and
shared the crisis. They alone had watched the moment when the campaign
swung upon the fateful hinge. No soldier in our army was ever to behold
that triumphant prospect again.[170]
Why the troops who were a little lower down the slope, in support, did
not at once push up to the assistance of the Gurkhas and Lancastrians
on the summit has not been explained. They belonged to the New Army,
and were rushed into a most difficult and terrible conflict. It was
Monday morning, and they had been given little sleep since Saturday,
and little if any food or water except in the rations and water-bottles
(1½ pint) which they brought with them. No doubt they were exhausted.
But every one was exhausted, and others had been out longer in the
assaulting column. One might have supposed that here their great
opportunity had come. Why they did not take it, we are not informed.
[Sidenote: TURKS RECAPTURE THE SUMMIT]
It was in vain now that General Baldwin’s brigade, arriving at the Farm
at the very crisis of frustrated design, began to push up the steep
with the 10th Hants and two companies of the 6th East Lancashires. They
appear to have attempted a spur nearer the Farm than the point where
the Gurkhas climbed, which was half a mile away to the left. But they
made little progress. The Turks, crowding the summit, now exultant in
their turn, poured down such storms of fire that the new advance was
checked, and General Baldwin was compelled to order re-concentration at
the Farm, where the brigade remained.
The Turks in their triumph, though not daring as yet to advance far
over the crest, turned in exultant assault upon the exhausted body of
New Zealanders and Gloucesters still lying exposed near the summit of
the Chunuk Bair shoulder, just to the right of the Nek on Rhododendron
Ridge, up which Baldwin’s brigade ought to have advanced at dawn. About
800 men still clung to the shallow and hastily constructed trenches
there. They lay unprotected by wire, and below the sky-line, so that
when the enemy came swarming over the summit with bayonet or bomb, our
rifles had only some twenty or thirty yards’ interval in which to mow
them down. This mistake in position was thought at the time to spring
from a memory of old South African tactics, in which the sky-line was
always avoided. But we have seen the reasons why Colonel Malone had
been compelled twice to remove the trenches a few yards farther from
the top.
Through the heat of the day and afternoon the men lay there
resisting repeated onset. Late on that Monday evening, they were at
last withdrawn and relieved. The New Zealanders had been fighting
continuously and under extreme strain since Friday night; the
Gloucesters since Saturday. The noblest endurance could stand no more.
The 6th Loyal North Lancashires (38th Brigade) and the 5th Wilts (40th
Brigade) were sent up to occupy the extreme position which had been so
steadfastly retained.
_From the evening of August 9 to the evening of August 10._
No more than these two battalions were ordered because, in Sir Ian’s
words, “General Sir William Birdwood is emphatic on the point that the
nature of the ground was such that there was no room on the crest for
more than this body of 800 to 1000 rifles.” Had Major Allanson been
able to hold his splendidly won position to the right of “Hill Q,” the
whole crest of Chunuk Bair would have been free for our occupation. Had
the expected advance from Suvla been pushed forward with vigour between
August 7 and 9, the Turks could not have concentrated forces for the
fatal counter-attack upon Chunuk Bair on the 10th. Those two failures
combined to frustrate the admirably designed movement of August, and
ultimately involved the whole campaign in failure.
As it was, the 6th Loyal Lancashires passed up the Rhododendron Ridge
in good time during the night, and duly occupied the trenches near the
summit as the New Zealanders and Gloucesters were withdrawn. Their
commandant, Lieut.-Colonel H. G. Levinge, even attempted to improve
the position by throwing out observation posts to the sky-line, so
as to command the reverse slope. The 5th Wiltshire (Lieut.-Colonel
J. Carden), delayed by the difficulties of the steep and encumbered
ascent, did not arrive till 4 a.m., just as dawn was breaking, and lay
down in a position believed to be covered but really exposed.
[Sidenote: LANCASHIRES AND WILTSHIRES DESTROYED]
Hardly had they settled down when every available Turkish gun was
turned upon the two weak and harassed battalions. The bombardment
was endured for about an hour, and then, at 5.30 a.m., the Turks
under German leaders directed an overwhelming counter-attack upon the
devoted New Army men. For this attack they were able to employ a full
Division and three extra battalions, certainly not less than 12,000
men, probably more. Crouching in their unfortunate positions, our two
battalions were engulfed or swept away, as by an irresistible tide.
They were driven from their shallow and hurriedly constructed trenches.
Both their Colonels were killed. The Wiltshires were “literally almost
annihilated.”[171]
Recognising the significance of the summit’s reoccupation, and
triumphant as never before, the Turks swarmed over the edge down
into the deep gullies on the right or south of Rhododendron Ridge,
probably with the design of cutting our assaulting columns off from
the base at Anzac and encircling them to destruction. This threatening
movement was checked partly by the battalions in support upon the
Ridge itself, but mainly by the naval guns (now secure of a visible
target), the New Zealand, Australian, and Indian guns, and the 69th
Brigade R.F.A. The service of a ten machine-gun battery, part of the
New Zealand Machine-gun Section organised and commanded by Major J.
Wallingford (Auckland Battalion),[172] was the subject of great eulogy
at the time. This battery “played upon their serried ranks at close
range until the barrels were red-hot. Enormous losses were inflicted,
especially by these ten machine-guns.”[173] Reinforcements hurrying
along the sky-line from Battleship Hill were similarly exposed to the
larger guns. Brave as the Turks showed themselves in this their hour
of apparent triumph, they could make no progress against so violent a
storm of destruction. The attack melted away. Few struggled back into
safety over the summit, and the right flank of our columns was secured.
[Sidenote: THE FIGHTING AT THE FARM]
Simultaneously with the onset which overwhelmed our two battalions
on the summit, the Turks appearing in similar massed lines along the
sky-line of Chunuk Bair itself and the saddle between that and “Hill
Q,” began to pour down the face of the range. They must have swept over
the thin defences which had sheltered the 6th Gurkhas. They broke
through the outposts of General Baldwin’s central column. They broke
through our line at various points. They reached the Farm. Some of our
companies were driven in confusion down the tangled spurs and ravines.
Near the foot of the mountain they were finely rallied by Staff-Captain
Street, who was looking after the supply of food and water. By sheer
force of personality, he led them unhesitatingly back into the thick of
the intense conflict upon that conspicuous stubble-field. In Sir Ian’s
words:
“It was a series of struggles in which Generals fought in the ranks
and men dropped their scientific weapons and caught one another by
the throat. So desperate a battle cannot be described. The Turks came
on again and again, fighting magnificently, calling upon the name of
God. Our men stood to it, and maintained, by many a deed of daring,
the old traditions of their race. There was no flinching. They died
in the ranks where they stood.”
Here fell General Baldwin, whom I had known first as a Captain in
the 1st Manchesters on Cæsar’s Hill in Ladysmith, and later in the
lines at Helles. As in some medieval battle, all his Staff fell with
him. Lieut.-Colonel M. H. Nunn, 9th Worcesters, was killed. The
Worcesters were left that day without a single officer. So were the
Warwicks. So, as we have seen, were the Gloucesters. At the Farm
also Brigadier-General Cooper (29th Brigade) was severely wounded.
Brigadier-General Cayley (39th Brigade) was mentioned for distinguished
courage. The Farm, though recovered that day, was ultimately abandoned
to the Turks, who drove an enormous trench across the stubble-field,
and entangled the whole front with wire. But to the end the shrunken
relics of the dead who fell that morning remained in lines and heaps
upon the ground.
Hearing of the violent and almost successful counter-attack, General
Birdwood hurried up the last two battalions of his Corps Reserve--the
5th Connaught Rangers (29th Brigade) being one.[174] But by 10 a.m. the
immediate danger was over. The force of the attack was spent. The few
surviving Turks began to scramble back over the summit. As Captain Bean
wrote at the time:
“A few Turks could still be seen at about two o’clock, hopping
desperately into any cover that suggested itself. Out of at least
three or four thousand who came over the ridge only twos and threes
got back--probably not five hundred in all. But the attack had one
result. It had driven the garrison down from the trenches which
Wellington and the Gloucesters had won on the summit of Chunuk Bair,
and back on to the high spur 500 yards distant which New Zealand
had won the first night. The lines were now beginning to coagulate
into the two settled rows of opposing trenches in which every modern
battle seems to end.”
The Turks cleared the dead from the summit by dropping them over the
edge at the highest point of Chunuk Bair, and letting them slide down
that precipitous ravine or “chimney” which was mentioned above. To the
end of the campaign that chimney was black with corpses and uniforms,
weathered and wasting between the rocky sides.
Far away to the left, on the low but deeply intersected hills and
ridges overlooking the Asma Dere, General Monash’s 4th Australian
Brigade and the 4th South Wales Borderers were also compelled on the
morning and afternoon of the same day (August 10) to resist violent
counter-attacks coming across from the Abdel Rahman spur. They held
their position, but the South Wales Borderers lost their commandant,
the excellent soldier, Lieut.-Colonel Gillespie, who left his name on
part of the district he had helped to win.
[Sidenote: OUR LOSSES]
The total casualties in General Birdwood’s Army Corps from the Friday
night to the Tuesday night amounted to 12,000,[175] by far the greater
proportion of whom were lost in General Godley’s two divisions allotted
for the main attack on Sari Bair. The gallantry and skill of divisions
cannot be estimated by losses. But still it is noticeable that the
New Army Division (13th, under Major-General Shaw) lost more than 50
per cent. (6000 out of 10,500), and 10 commanding officers out of 13.
The proportion of officers killed and wounded was, indeed, unusually
high in all brigades. As to the troops in general, perhaps only those
who are well acquainted with the extreme complexity of the country,
and with the strain of night marches into the heart of an enemy’s
positions, followed by assaults upon strongly held mountain heights at
dawn, can fully appreciate the true significance of the last paragraph
in General Godley’s report, as quoted in Sir Ian’s dispatch:
“I cannot close my report without placing on record my unbounded
admiration of the work performed, and the gallantry displayed, by the
troops and their leaders during the severe fighting involved in these
operations. Though the Australian, New Zealand, and Indian units had
been confined to trench duty in a cramped space for some four months,
and though the troops of the New Armies had only just landed from a
sea voyage, and many of them had not been previously under fire, I
do not believe that any troops in the world could have accomplished
more. All ranks vied with one another in the performance of gallant
deeds, and more than worthily upheld the best traditions of the
British Army.”
[Illustration: VIEW OF OCEAN BEACH, LOOKING TOWARDS SUVLA BAY (END OF
AUGUST)]
[Sidenote: THE FAILURE AND ITS CAUSES]
In his dispatch, Sir Ian mentions that at times he thought of throwing
his reserves (the 53rd and 54th Divisions, coming up through Mudros)
into this central battle. He thinks they probably would have turned
the scale. The Corps and Divisional Commanders assured him there was
no room for additional troops. But it was the water difficulty, he
says, which made him give up the idea. The thirst of the troops in
this part of the general attack was such that when the mules with
the water “pakhals” arrived at the front, the men rushed up to them
just to lick the moisture oozing through the canvas bags. Thirst is
the most terrible of physical sufferings, and no one who has known it
will wonder at Sir Ian’s decision. Still the want of water was almost
equally cruel at Suvla, whither the Reserve Divisions were ultimately
sent. There they arrived after the decisive days were passed, and fell
under the curse of an inert spirit, very different from the spirit
of the Sari Bair assault. If their presence at Anzac would indeed
have turned the scale, it is part of the Dardanelles tragedy that the
Commander-in-Chief, unable to foresee the Suvla conditions, or still
hoping too much from the new landing there, did not venture upon the
risk, however dangerous.
For in spite of all the gallantry and endurance (which Napoleon counted
a more essential quality in a soldier than courage), and in spite of
all the careful organisation of supply and medical care, the main
attack had failed by sunset of Tuesday, August 10. A large extent of
ground had been occupied. From Rhododendron Ridge on the right to Asma
Dere on the left, and all between those two points and the sea, the
country was now in our possession. Anzac was enlarged from barely 300
acres to about 8 square miles.[176] It was possible now to walk or ride
from Anzac to Suvla Bay, though snipers always endangered the route.
Yet the attack had failed. The summits of Sari Bair were not held. The
Straits were still closed; Constantinople still distant. Mistakes,
no doubt, had been made, but mistakes could have been retrieved. The
ultimate cause of failure was simply this: our attacking forces were
outnumbered and checked by an enemy holding positions of enormous
natural strength, and the task of diverting and reducing the enemy’s
force from Suvla, or of actually contributing new troops thence to the
central movement, was not fulfilled.
CHAPTER XII
SUVLA BAY
Beyond the Asmak Dere, which, as described in the last chapter, formed
the northern limit of the Anzac movement against the Sari Bair range,
the coast continues its north-westerly trend till the sharp and rocky
headland of Nibrunesi Point is reached. Inland, the plain naturally
increases in area as the hills diverge towards the north-east. It is
flat and open land, studded with low trees and bushes. Nearly all
the surface is waste, but small farms, surrounded by larger trees
and patches of cultivation, occur here and there, as at Kazlar Chair
close to the Asmak, and Hetman Chair about a mile north of it (“Chair”
meaning meadow). The soil becomes more and more marshy as one proceeds,
and in winter the region nearest the Salt Lake is waterlogged. The bush
also grows more dense, but is crossed by sheep tracks, and is nowhere
impenetrable. The plain, as we have seen, forms the entrance to the
broad and open valley of Biyuk (Big) Anafarta, the cypress groves of
which are clearly visible about three and a half miles to the right.
[Illustration: THE SUVLA LANDING]
[Sidenote: HILLS COMMANDING THE BAY]
Nibrunesi Point, or Kuchuk Kemikli, rises with steep cliffs on both
sides, but steeper on the north, where they fall abruptly into Suvla
Bay. It is the extremity of what was once a high ridge or chain of
reddish conglomerate rock, hard but friable. The chain is now marked
by a series of isolated knolls--first the low knolls upon the Point
itself; then the broad-based rounded hill of Lala Baba, which rises
to about 150 feet; then, beyond the southern end of the Salt Lake and
a stretch of marsh and bushy plain, Yilghin Burnu (better known to us
as “Chocolate Hill,” from its reddish-brown colour even before it was
burnt), which is a similar but larger rounded hill, like an inverted
bowl, rising about 160 feet; then, beyond a brief but steepish dip
or saddle, Hill 50 or “Green Hill” (so called because the thick bush
covering it was not burnt), rising to nearly equal height, but not
so round or definite in shape; lastly, beyond a wide and distinctive
break, the formidable mass of Ismail Oglu Tepe (known to us as “W
Hill” from the waving outline of its crest, but more officially called
“Hill 112” from its approximate height in metres). Ismail Oglu, thus
rising about 330 feet, forms the rectangular corner of the high plateau
on which Anafarta Sagir (Kuchuk or Little Anafarta) stands, and from
the southern face it commands the Biyuk Anafarta valley and the hills
across it at the foot of Sari Bair, while from the western face it
commands Green and Chocolate Hills, almost the whole of the plain north
of them, the Salt Lake, and the northern shores of Suvla Bay. It is,
therefore, the most vital and dominating position, unless long-range
guns were placed on the much loftier height of Tekke Tepe.
But of almost equal importance in the campaign was a rounded hill
which projects sharply from the Anafarta ridge or plateau north of
Ismail Oglu Tepe. Down the western front of this hill, which looks
over the plain to the very centre of the Salt Lake, and to Suvla Bay
beyond, runs a broad yellow “blaze” of bare ground, showing a marl
and soft sandstone surface (the formation of this plateau being again
of the same character as the Sari Bair range). This “blaze” appears
from the sea to be shaped like a Gurkha’s “kukri” or an old-fashioned
Turkish scimitar, and so the hill came to be called “Scimitar Hill.”
But officially it was “Hill 70” from its height in metres (say 200
feet), and commonly the soldiers called it “Burnt Hill,” which was no
distinction. It was connected, apparently without much break or dip,
with the plateau behind it bearing the general name of Baka Baba, on
which the windmills, the white minaret, and some of the houses of
Little Anafarta could be distinctly seen from the beach. The minaret,
however, was destroyed by the Turks on Sept. 6, as affording a sighting
point for naval fire. This description covers the southern and
south-east positions to be attacked in the Suvla district.
[Sidenote: THE SALT LAKE AND BAY]
From Nibrunesi Point the coast-line curves sharply into a semicircular
bay, the diameter of which is close upon two miles. The north side of
the Point itself falls, as described, in steep cliffs to a narrow and
rocky beach. The cliff continues till the foot of Lala Baba is passed,
and then it suddenly ends in low dunes of soft and drifting sand. These
in turn sink into a spit or isthmus, about 700 yards long, and some 200
yards across at its broadest part. It is all of loose sand, very tiring
to walk on, though bent grass and patches of heath bind it together
here and there. The shallow bay lies on the left; the large expanse
of the Salt Lake on the right. The Salt Lake measures about a mile and
a half at its greatest length and breadth each way, forming a kind of
square with irregular sides. Its surface in summer is thinly crusted
with salt deposit upon caked and fissured mud, fairly sound for walking
or riding, though in places the foot sinks above the ankle, and on
the south side above the knees. Consequently, the south side, thickly
covered with high reeds and ending in the marshy plain, is always
impassable for troops, though a track not far from the edge can be used
in summer for carts and even guns.
At the end of the sandy spit is a channel, which in winter admits the
sea into the lake under a strong west wind, and drains it out again.
In summer, though sticky, it can be crossed on foot, but we bridged
it. After crossing it, one continues upon loose and wearisome sand,
the sandhills on the right combining to form a low, heathy plateau,
at first mistaken for “Hill 10” (so called from its height in metres)
about 1000 yards inland. The beach continues sandy, the sea shallow,
and walking very tedious till nearly half-way round the northern
side of the semicircle, when one strikes the rocky formation of the
northern point. The coast-line then rises into rocky cliffs of no great
height under a low hill called Ghazi Baba, and runs into rocky inlets
or creeks. The sea becomes deeper, the land undulates and is thickly
covered with heath and prickly bush. So it continues up to the final
hill, where the bay ends in the jagged rocks of the extremity called by
us Suvla Point, and by the Turks Biyuk Kemikli.
There the coast turns suddenly north-east, and forms the side of the
Gulf of Xeros. The land rises into a steep razor-edge or whale-back
of grey limestone, looking white in the sun, and bare but for shrubs
and aromatic plants growing in the crannies between the rocks. This
razor-edge is really continuous except for notches, knolls, and
shallow scoops along the sky-line. But the Turks have given the ridge
the separate names of Karakol Dagh (Coastguard Mountain) and Kiretch
Tepe Sirt. This Tepe Sirt or Hill Summit rises to the height of 600
feet at the points which we afterwards called Jephson’s Post and the
Pimple. Thence the ridge runs at a varying but lower level till it
reaches Ejelmer Bay, where there is good anchorage and an opening into
a central plain of the Peninsula. The distance from Suvla Point to
Ejelmer Bay is nearly 7 miles.
[Sidenote: HILLS NORTH AND NORTH-EAST OF BAY]
The whole of this ridge is steep and rocky on the south side
overlooking Suvla Bay, but is everywhere accessible by climbing, and
admits of paths being cut obliquely or in zigzag. The northern side
falls abruptly into the Gulf of Xeros, across which the opposite coast
of Thrace, from the mouth of the Maritza eastward, can be distinctly
seen. Near Suvla Point the cliffs are precipitous, and leave little
or no beach. Farther along, the face of the ridge, though always very
steep, becomes accessible, and spreads out at the bottom into a kind
of “undercliff” above the shore, which is indented by a succession
of miniature bays, like bathing coves. All this part of the slope is
deeply scored by ravines, rocky, steep, and covered with thick bush.
This face was commanded by the enemy’s guns only from Kartal Tepe,
a barren promontory of fantastic cliffs, different in formation, and
apparently of dark and slaty shale, which projects from the coast a
mile or so beyond the farthest point reached by our lines.
Farther along the coast towards Ejelmer Bay the razor-edge meets
almost at right angles with a mass of mountain running south towards
the Anafarta plateau. The range rises rapidly to the conjoined heights
of Kavak Tepe and Tekke Tepe (Saint’s Hill), each about 850 feet. It
completely shuts in the Suvla region on the north-east side, presenting
a steep, though not really a precipitous, western face towards the
bay, and commanding the whole district from end to end. It is dark
with thick scrub to the rounded summits, and always reminded me of the
Wrekin’s western face, looking towards Shrewsbury, as seen from the
site of Uriconium. At the southern end it falls by a similar steep
slope to the Anafarta plateau, throwing up one little isolated hill
above the plateau, like the spadeful of rocks which the devil dropped
in his hurry to pile the Wrekin.
From these descriptions of the northern, eastern, and southern
positions around Suvla, it will be seen that the heights, starting from
Kiretch Tepe and running round over Kavak Tepe and Tekke Tepe to the
elevated Anafarta plateau, Scimitar Hill, and Ismail Oglu Tepe, form an
irregular semicircle, roughly corresponding to the regular semicircle
of Suvla Bay, and commanding it from a wide circumference. This outer
semicircle encloses a fairly open plain, cultivated in parts by ancient
farms, such as Anafarta Ova (Plain) and Sulajik. Large trees, so rarely
seen in the Near East, give that part of the plain the appearance of
a park in one of the fatted counties of England. But most of it is
bare except for heath and thin grass, until the foot of the hills is
reached, when the prickly bush becomes thick as usual, interrupting
any advance in line, effectively concealing numberless snipers, and
impenetrable except by devious and isolating paths. Each farm has
a well or fountain, and one of the watercourses, running into the
north-east corner of the Salt Lake, contains water. There is a spring
at the foot of the Karakol Dagh, not far from the bay. Two good running
fountains, constructed with low bridges, stone spouts, and troughs,
are to be found on the plain north-east of the Salt Lake among the
large trees mentioned; and there is a smaller source just south-west
of Chocolate Hill. But these wells and springs might easily be missed
by troops advancing under fire across an unknown and almost pathless
country.
[Sidenote: GENERAL STOPFORD AND THE IXTH CORPS]
Such was the district into which the IXth Army Corps was launched in
the night of August 6–7. As has been mentioned, Lieut.-General Sir
Frederick Stopford had arrived in the middle of July to take command,
and for a short time had succeeded General Hunter-Weston in command of
the VIIIth Army Corps at Helles, so as to gain experience in Peninsula
warfare. He had entered the Grenadier Guards in the early “Seventies”;
had seen the usual service of officers at the end of last century, in
India, West Africa, and Egypt; during the South African War he was
Military Secretary to General Buller, and entered Ladysmith with him
at the relief. Since then he had occupied various military positions
at home and was still on the Active List though a little over sixty.
His reputation stood high as a student and teacher of military history,
and long experience had given him an accurate knowledge of army
routine. But he had never held high command in the field, and neither
history nor routine in itself inspires to action; still less do years
of official duty in the Metropolis. Rather they suppress the hopeful
buoyancy of spirit and rapid fertility of resource essential for
generalship, while they tend to accentuate the hesitating deliberation
and cautious apprehension of risk which too often develop with
increasing years. Habits mainly sedentary are also likely to reduce the
enthusiasm for physical activity as middle age is passing.
At the same time it is fair to remember that the force now entrusted
to General Stopford for this vital enterprise was an Army Corps only
in name. Nominally it consisted of the 10th, 11th, and 13th Divisions,
composed as we have seen. But the 13th Division (Major-General Shaw)
had been deflected to Anzac for the assault against Sari Bair, together
with the 29th Brigade (Brigadier-General Cooper) of the 10th Division.
General Stopford was thus left with only the 11th (Northern) Division
under Major-General Hammersley, and two brigades of the 10th (Irish)
Division under Lieut.-General Sir Bryan Mahon. All the battalions in
these Divisions were New Army men, and had never been in action before.
Normally each Division should have possessed sixteen batteries of
artillery (including the H.Q. Divisional Artillery), so that (allowing
for the absence of the 13th Division and the 29th Brigade) the IXth
Army Corps should have commanded twenty-eight batteries, or 112 guns;
whereas, at the time of landing, it had only one Field Artillery
battery and two Highland Mountain batteries of small calibre--old and
useless for service--counting twelve guns in all.[177] It is true that
General Stopford could also command the support of naval guns, but by
the nature of the case the guns had been unable to register for fear of
thwarting the surprise, the maps were uncertain, and most of the Suvla
plain was invisible from the sea owing to its flatness.
Of the Divisional Generals, Sir Bryan Mahon was fifty-three, was a
cavalryman (8th Royal Irish Hussars), held a long record of service in
India and Egypt, and had won distinction by the relief of Mafeking in
1900. Since then he had been Military Governor of Kordofan, and had
commanded the Lucknow Division till the outbreak of the war. Possessing
many of the fine Irish qualities, and some of the supposed Irish
defects, he was regarded with patriotic affection by his Division; but,
like most of our Generals, had seen no active service for fourteen
or fifteen years, and then in wars unlike the present. Major-General
Frederick Hammersley (Lancashire Fusiliers) had also served in India,
Egypt, and South Africa, and on various Staff appointments; but owing
to serious illness had recently held no military position.
As in the last chapter, on Sari Bair, it will be convenient to divide
the Suvla fighting by days and nights, counting from evening to evening.
_From the evening of Friday, August 6, to the evening of August 7._
[Sidenote: THE FORCE AT SEA]
By the time darkness set in, Brigadier-General F. F. Hill was making up
the Asiatic coast from Mitylene (120 miles) with his 31st Brigade and
two battalions of the 30th (10th Division), which had been transhipped
from their transports into ten trawlers and passenger steamers.
Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol was on his way from Mudros (60 miles)
with the remaining two battalions of his 30th Brigade and the 5th Royal
Irish (Pioneers), accompanied by Sir Bryan Mahon and his Divisional
Staff. At Imbros, the three brigades of the 11th Division (the 32nd,
33rd, and 34th, under Brigadier-Generals Haggard, Maxwell, and Sitwell)
were embarked in destroyers and “beetles” (motor-lighters), about 500
men being packed in each destroyer and “beetle.” The “beetles” were
under charge of Captain Unwin, the hero of the _River Clyde_. Three
of each kind of vessel were allotted to each brigade, the destroyers
towing the “beetles.” Two cruisers (“blister ships”) also carried
1000 men apiece, to be landed by the “beetles” as soon as their own
contingents and those on the destroyers had been discharged. Behind
the infantry followed trawlers towing horse-boats with horses and
guns;[178] and the sloop _Aster_ with 500 men, presumably gunners,
towing a lighter with eight mountain-guns, and four water-lighters
specially provided by Brigadier-General Lotbinière, then Director of
Works.
[Sidenote: THE WATER SUPPLY]
Each of the water-lighters carried about 50 or 60 tons, and was to be
refilled from two water-ships, the _Krene_ and _Phido_, each carrying
250 tons of water brought from Alexandria. The men embarked with full
water-bottles, and each “beetle” and destroyer was supplied with water
for refills on landing, and for the wants of beach-parties. It was also
confidently expected that plentiful water would be discovered during
the advance. But, though some water was there, it was not discovered,
or was not accessible. Inexperienced soldiers might be expected to
drain their water-bottles soon, and in the excitement and confusion
of landing to neglect the precaution of refilling. So it happened,
and to this natural carelessness must be added the absence of the
_Prah_, an Elder Dempster vessel of 3000 tons, carefully equipped
with water-pumps, hose, tanks, troughs, and the implements required
for the development of wells or springs--exactly the stores which
the experience of the April landings had proved essential to relieve
the torture of thirst among men exhausted by the nervous excitement
of battle, and by the heat, which in August had risen to glaring
intensity. The danger of thirst had always been present in the minds
of General Headquarters and the Administrative Staff. Petrol tins,
milk cans, camel tanks, water-bags, and pakhals for mules had been
provided in large quantities from India and Egypt. More than 4000 mules
for carrying water as well as rations and ammunition were by this time
collected for Anzac and Suvla, about 600 being allotted to Suvla alone
for the first landing. Critics after the event suggested that the men
should have carried half a dozen water-bottles apiece instead of their
packs. But, as a matter of fact, the 11th Division, at all events,
carried only their haversacks with two days’ iron rations, and left
their packs at Imbros. As to carrying more water-bottles, no one could
have foreseen the partial failure of the most elaborate precautions,
partly owing to the inexperience of a New Army Staff.[179]
The naval side of the whole landing--the organisation of all transport
until each detail came ashore--was in charge of Rear-Admiral Arthur
Christian, on board the sloop _Jonquil_, together with General Stopford
and his Chief of Staff, Brigadier-General H. L. Reed, V.C. Vice-Admiral
de Robeck, with his Chief of Staff, Commodore Roger Keyes, was also
present on the light cruiser _Chatham_, and on the light cruiser
_Talbot_ was Brigadier-General S. C. V. Smith, R.A., in command of the
guns. Soon after 8 p.m. the flotilla began to glide northward through
the winding narrows of the netted and buoyed passage from Kephalos Bay.
The last of the vessels except the _Prah_ and water-lighters cleared
about 10 p.m. We heard the firing round the Vineyard at Helles, and the
perpetual whisper and rumble of rifles and guns at Lone Pine. On our
right front as we advanced past Anzac the New Zealanders were standing
mustered for the great assault. The water was dead calm, which was a
mercy for the soldiers crowded on the destroyers and “beetles.” No
lights were shown. There was no light but the brilliant stars. No one
except the Generals and Admirals knew our destination.
[Sidenote: THE LANDING BEACHES]
Sir Ian’s original design had been to land the whole of the 11th
Division at the continuous beach just south of Nibrunesi Point. Here
the shore is “steep to,” and the water comes up deep. A large part of
the force would be concealed or sheltered by the cliffs and hills, but
the beach itself is level and wide enough for mustering. The brigades,
after capturing the Lala Baba promontory, could then have advanced in
unison along the marshy but practicable ground south of the Salt Lake,
or before dawn even over the centre of the Lake itself, to the assault
upon Chocolate and W Hills. Meantime, we must suppose, Sir Ian had
intended the two brigades of the 10th Division to land on the north
side of the bay near Suvla Point and occupy the commanding razor-edge
of Kiretch Tepe Sirt. Most unfortunately, as it turned out, against
his better judgment he accepted General Stopford’s desire to land
one brigade inside the bay itself, apparently with the intention of
advancing across the plain on the north of the Salt Lake. Accordingly,
the navy was directed to put the 34th Brigade (Sitwell’s) ashore on the
sands of the north-east segment of the bay, while the 32nd (Haggard’s)
and the 33rd (Maxwell’s) were to land on the beach south of Nibrunesi
Point. This beach was divided into C (nearer the Point) for the
artillery, and B for the infantry, but it was one and continuous. The
navy originally chose the south-east arc of the bay for landing, hence
called “Old A Beach.” Among the rocky creeks near Suvla Point, A East
and A West were found on the 7th, and A West ultimately became the
main landing-place. But the true A Beach on which the 34th Brigade was
ordered to land was the long and sandy stretch just beside the entrance
or “cut” into the Salt Lake; and there the 34th Brigade landed.
Together with the two brigades of the 10th Division the total number of
all ranks and arms, including transport and supply, was from 25,000 to
27,000 to be landed. There was no wire entanglement along the shore;
the entrenchments were few and slight; the Turkish force holding the
district was estimated under 4000, apart from possible reserves behind
Sari Bair; and the actual bay was guarded, as was believed, only by
about 1000 gendarmes--700 on Lala Baba, 300 on Suvla Point. Sir Ian
confidently expected, therefore, that the two Divisions, though short
in numbers (showing a total of about 20,000 rifles or rather less),
almost destitute of guns apart from the fleet, and unavoidably
destitute of experience in actual war, would certainly be able to
occupy the inner semicircle of the bay and the outer semicircle of the
commanding heights, or at all events the vital points of Kiretch Tepe
and W Hill, by the following morning.
But, like nearly every movement in war, the landing took longer
than was expected, and the customary delay was increased by partial
confusion. In the darkness of midnight the 32nd and 33rd Brigades
approached the shore at B Beach south of Nibrunesi Point. The
destroyers stopped and slipped the “beetles,” which crept ashore
under their own power. Driving close in, they dropped their elevated
drawbridges right on the beach itself, and the crowded men swarmed
over them as over a landing-stage. The “beetles” then returned to the
destroyers for their second load, and so the two brigades came to
shore in good time and without mishap. As soon as the battalions were
formed up, two from the 32nd Brigade (the 6th Yorkshire and the 9th
West Yorkshire) were instructed to occupy Lala Baba. Advancing in that
order along the beach and up the hills from the south, they stormed
the trenches with the bayonet in the darkness, but the 6th Yorks lost
heavily. Colonel Chapman, in command, was killed while cheering on his
men. Fifteen officers fell and 250 men, but apart from that battalion
the loss was not great, and the occupation of the Hill gave us command
of the southern side of the bay.
[Sidenote: MISFORTUNE OF THE 34TH BRIGADE]
With the 34th Brigade things did not go so smoothly. The navy brought
up the destroyers with the “beetles” in time with the rest; but after
the “beetles” had been cast off as they approached the shore in the
middle of the bay, it was found that they could not make A Beach at
all, but went aground with their weight on the sandy shallows. The
disaster might have been anticipated even from the distant appearance
of shelving shore, which possessed all the familiar features of a
children’s bathing-place. Led by their officers, the men plunged into
the water, which in places came up to their armpits, and struggled
ashore. Dripping wet, they reached the sands well below the centre of
the bay’s arc, and south of the entrance to the Salt Lake, considerably
south of the appointed position. Both in the lighters and on shore they
were exposed to considerable fire from Lala Baba (not yet occupied)
and the rocky promontories towards Suvla Point. Many Turks even crept
into their midst in the darkness, and at close quarters killed them
unawares. Nearly the whole of the northern shore had also been sown
with land-mines, exploding on contact and causing some casualties.
The delay and confusion due to the oversight of obvious shallows were
serious. They were the first step in failure. For by the time the
brigade got ashore and sorted itself out it was useless to think of
reaching W Hill, or even Chocolate Hill, under cover of darkness. In
fact, by the time the battalions were reorganised it was nearly dawn.
To protect the left, one battalion (11th Manchester) was now sent up
the rocky steep of Karakol Dagh, which it succeeded in clearing of the
concealed parties of gendarmes. The Colonel was wounded, the second in
command killed, and nearly half the strength put out of action.[180]
But its service in saving the rest of the brigade from enfilading
fire was inestimable. The 5th Dorsets appears to have followed the
Manchesters by mistake of direction.
About the same time another of the battalions (9th Lancashire
Fusiliers) succeeded in the task of clearing the low eminence of
heath-covered sandhill which stood close at hand to the left front of
the landing beach, and was mistaken for Hill 10. The Turks had a strong
outpost there, and the loss to this battalion was also considerable.
In fact, the brigade stood in an isolated and unsatisfactory position
when, just as the eastern sky began to show streaks of brown among the
purple, the 32nd Brigade (Haggard’s) began to appear along the sandy
spit, coming from Lala Baba, which it had seized and left in charge
of the 33rd Brigade (Maxwell’s). As it approached it opened fire upon
the low plateau, where confused fighting was still going on. The 9th
West Yorks (32nd Brigade) also joined in the attack, and suffered
considerable loss.
[Sidenote: HESITATION AND CONFUSION]
Brigadier-General Sitwell, as senior in command, had now two brigades,
half of each still untouched by action. It was the moment for him, one
would have thought, to advance at all hazards upon Chocolate and W
Hills. Yet he hesitated. Perhaps he thought it went beyond his orders
to cross the open plain now that daylight was increasing every minute.
Perhaps he was deterred by a brief counter-attack which the Turks,
noticing the confusion or supineness of the brigades, attempted against
the plateau, though the 9th Lancashire Fusiliers again drove them off
with the bayonet, compelling them to retreat through the low bushes
on the north edge of the plain. Now that the sun was rising, shrapnel
from the two Turkish batteries posted on the hills across the Salt
Lake began to burst over his position, and the naval guns, attempting
to harass the groups of enemy as they stole away, set fire to a large
area of bush straight in his front and to the left.[181] Perhaps he
thought enough had been done by battalions already thirsty, tired after
a sleepless night, and probably shaken by their first losses in battle.
At all events he allowed at least one battalion to gather in crowds
under the shelter of some high sand dunes along the shore north of the
spit, and there for many hours they lay immovable. The second step in
failure had been taken.
The third was already preparing. About an hour before dawn, the ten
trawlers and steamers bringing Brigadier-General Hill’s six battalions
from Mitylene punctually arrived off the bay. As they all belonged to
Sir Bryan Mahon’s 10th Division, General Stopford had intended them
to land near A Beach, to seize the whole length of the razor-edge on
the north of the bay, to occupy the Kiretch Tepe Sirt, and advance as
far as possible towards Ejelmer Bay, whence the great hills of Tekke
Tepe could be turned. They were, of course, to be joined by Sir Bryan
Mahon’s other three battalions on their arrival with their General from
Mudros. But the General had not yet arrived: the navy had witnessed
only too plainly the failure of A Beach as a landing-place owing to
the shallows, and they had not yet discovered the practicable creeks
among the rocks near Suvla Point. Accordingly, General Stopford was
advised to land them at B Beach, and after the delay of more than two
hours this was done.[182] That is to say, five of the six battalions
were landed there with Brigadier-General Hill; but before the 5th Royal
Inniskilling Fusiliers (of Hill’s own 31st Brigade) had disembarked,
Sir Bryan Mahon put into the bay from Mudros with the remaining three,
and was landed in the creeks which the navy had now discovered among
the rocks east of Suvla Point. Accordingly, the Inniskilling Fusiliers
were counter-ordered to join him there. Thus the 10th Division was
now divided into three entirely different parts: the 29th Brigade
was at Anzac; three battalions of the 31st and two of the 30th were
with Hill at B Beach; two battalions of the 30th, one of the 31st,
and the 5th Royal Irish (Pioneers) were at Suvla Point, where the
Divisional General landed with nothing of his Division left under
his command except these four. Confusion of command and position was
inevitable.[183]
[Sidenote: GENERAL HILL’S NEW ORDERS]
Confusion immediately resulted. As Hill with his five battalions was
landed in the sphere of the 11th Division on the right, instead of
being with his own 10th Division on the extreme left, he was ordered
by General Stopford to put himself under the command of Major-General
Hammersley. His battalions did not begin to disembark till 5.30 a.m.,
when it was nearly full daylight. The enemy’s shrapnel was bursting
over his boats and the beach. Two of our mountain-guns were hurried up
into the Turkish trenches on Lala Baba, though the battery of Field
Artillery did not come into action from behind the cover of that hill
until evening. The ships also maintained a heavy but ineffectual fire
upon invisible or unregistered positions. But the loss at the landing
was considerable while Hill was away looking for the Divisional General
and new orders. This was a long process. Finding at last that his
orders were to combine with the 32nd and 34th Brigades, now under
Sitwell’s command upon the dunes near Hill 10, and then to attack
Chocolate Hill and advance to W Hill, he mustered the five battalions
behind the slopes of Lala Baba, and ordered an advance along the sandy
spit. The march round by Hill 10, and then along the north side of
the Salt Lake, and again south-east to Chocolate Hill, would describe
three parts of a circle. An advance from B Beach along the south
side of the Salt Lake would have followed an almost straight line to
Chocolate Hill; the ground, though marshy in places, was better going
than loose sand, and the apprehended wire was afterwards found to be
negligible. By this route General Hammersley could have brought these
five battalions into action many hours earlier, could have occupied
Chocolate Hill by noon, and pushed on to W Hill before night. It is
true they would not then have co-operated with the brigades under
Sitwell, but the value of that co-operation was not great.
As it was, owing to the delay of changed command, and to co-operation
with a Brigadier in another Division, with whom Hill, having just come
from Mitylene, was probably unacquainted, Hill’s column did not begin
to leave Lala Baba for the sandy spit till noon. The march across that
unprotected spit was a trying passage. The Irishmen (6th Inniskilling
Fusiliers, 5th and 6th Royal Irish Fusiliers, of the 31st Brigade, and
6th and 7th Royal Dublin Fusiliers of the 30th Brigade) had started
closely packed together for their long sea voyage on the previous
afternoon; except for a cup of tea at 3 a.m. and a snatch of their
rations after landing, they were empty of food; for some hours they
had stood uncertain under a blazing sun and exposed for the first time
to shrapnel, often fatal and continually unnerving. The Turkish guns
on Anafarta and W Hills had carefully registered the sandy spit, and
now swept it with shrapnel from end to end. For sleepless, hungry, and
miserably thirsty men, loose sand is the worst of trials. They crossed
in batches, or “by a section at a time rushing over.”[184]
[Sidenote: HILL’S ADVANCE ROUND SALT LAKE]
As each battalion arrived after this ordeal, it formed up under the
slight cover of the sand dunes about Hill 10, but it was 3 p.m. before
all the five mustered there and Hill could organise the attack upon
Chocolate Hill, which was to have been completed before dawn. Keeping
only the 6th Dublin Fusiliers in reserve, he pushed the other four
battalions forward across the dry bed of the Asmak on the north side of
the Salt Lake, and began the difficult movement of wheeling the whole
force southward through the open country round the lake shore. It was
thus marching across the enemy’s front--an operation of proverbial
risk. The farther it advanced, the more exposed the left flank became.
Sitwell, as senior officer, was, as we have seen, in command of the
34th and 32nd Brigades, which had lain so many hours under the sand
dunes. He was now, indeed, in sole command, since Haggard had been
seriously wounded at noon. But he considered he was justified in
sparing only two battalions in support (6th Lincolns and 6th Borders,
which, however, belonged to the 33rd Brigade and must have been sent
over from Lala Baba by their Brigadier-General Maxwell under General
Hammersley’s order). Even these two appear to have been moved too late
to protect the left flank, for Hill was compelled to defend it, as
it was “in air,” by deploying the 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers (Colonel
Pike, an excellent officer, who was with the regiment in Ladysmith)
and advancing them so as to face half-left. An increasing gap was thus
formed between left and right as the force slowly wheeled round the
lake, and the 7th Dublins had to be brought up to fill it.
As the rough country in front of Anafarta plateau was thus being
crossed, the line was continually harassed by an enfilading fire from
swarms of snipers concealed in the bushes on the left, as well as by
copious shrapnel and high explosives from the hills. Contact mines
also exploded, and a Taube dropped a few bombs. Fortunately, about
4 p.m. a sudden squall and shower of rain swept over the bay and
plain, obscuring the enemy’s view, and refreshing the troops, who were
suffering greatly from the extreme heat and from thirst, though they
were passing close to two excellent water-sources, had they but known
it. Their Brigadier Hill, a man of almost excessive indifference to
danger, as I observed on several occasions, did not follow them in
person till midnight. By 5 p.m. they had reached a line within 300
yards of Chocolate Hill, and there they lay down while the ships and
the few batteries on land bombarded.[185]
[Sidenote: CHOCOLATE HILL TAKEN]
The moment the bombardment ceased, the men rose and charged up the
steep and bushy slopes of that rounded hill with fixed bayonets. The
two Royal Irish Fusilier battalions were on the left (the side of
greatest danger), the Dublins in the centre, the Inniskillings on
the right. The 6th Lincolns and 6th Borders then passed through the
line, and were, in fact, first in the charge. The hill was fortified
by an old trench which ran completely round the circumference some
yards below the summit. One long communication trench afterwards ran
down the saddle or neck connecting the hill with “Hill 50” or “Green
Hill” beyond, and probably followed the line of an old excavation. The
Turks poured rifle-fire from the parapets, and fought gallantly with
bayonets. But they were at last all killed or chased away. Just as the
sun set over the distant peaks of Samothrace, the summit was gained. If
only it had been gained as that sun rose!
The battalions spent the night in sorting themselves out, burying the
dead, trying to collect the wounded in the darkness, bringing up what
supplies they could find on the beach (all of which had to be carried
on men’s backs), and, above all, in the endeavour to bring up water. A
certain amount was being distributed on the beach, more than 2 miles
off by the nearest way, which probably no one could find in the dark.
And every drop had to be carried by hand in camp kettles or even in
ammunition boxes or in water-bottles strung by the dozen round one
man’s neck. The night was thus occupied, but thirst was not appeased.
Before sunrise the 6th Lincolns and the 6th Borderers were withdrawn to
rejoin their own brigade, the 7th South Staffords replacing them.
To return to the remaining battalions of the 10th Division. As we have
seen, the Divisional General, Sir Bryan Mahon, arrived from Mudros
with only three battalions--the 6th and 7th Munster Fusiliers of the
30th Brigade (Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol), and the 5th Royal Irish
(Pioneers). In addition he was able to retain the 5th Inniskilling
Fusiliers (31st Brigade) before it disembarked with Hill’s force.
Ordering it to follow, he landed soon after 11 a.m. with the three
battalions among the rocks near Suvla Point, where his men suffered
much from contact mines. He then proceeded to climb Karakol Dagh,
and passed through the shattered companies of the 11th Manchesters,
who had early occupied this part of the rocky razor-edge. Deploying
the Munsters in two lines, he advanced to the attack on Kiretch Tepe
Sirt, the more lofty but continuous edge beyond. The ground is very
difficult, being a steep hillside broken into rocks and craggy ravines,
the lower slopes covered with high bush. The enemy delayed the advance
along the whole mountain-side by accurate and concealed fire, causing
many wounds and deaths, especially among officers. It was past sunset
when the attacking force of Munsters, supported by the Royal Irish,
came within about 100 yards of the highest knoll, which the Turks held
strongly. Here the battalions, wearied and tormented by thirst, like
the whole army corps, lay for the night. But next morning (August 8),
the 6th Munsters under Major Jephson took the knoll by assault. It was
afterwards known as Jephson’s Post, was fortified, in spite of its
rocky and exposed position, and, but for a few hours in the next week,
remained the farthest point in our lines along the north side of the
bay.
[Sidenote: RESULTS OF THE FIRST DAY]
Thus, on the late evening of the 7th, we held the bay and both
extremities, the Salt Lake, Hill 10, a point near Jephson’s Post on the
north, and Chocolate Hill on the south-east. We had not even attempted
W Hill, or Scimitar Hill, or the Anafarta plateau, or the Tekke Tepe
mountain, and from all those points the bay was commanded. Except
along the shore we had established no connection with Anzac, and could
give no support at Sari Bair. Still, something had been gained. The
landing had been effected punctually and with small loss. The 32nd
and 34th Brigades had certainly lost much time in hanging about Hill
10, as though their work was done. The 31st Brigade had been hampered
and delayed by confused commands and the varied positions allotted
to it apart from its own Division. But the situation seemed fairly
hopeful, and with energy and organisation all might be retrieved. Some
battalions had lost heavily, but as a whole the loss was not great--for
so large a movement. Only a little over 1000 wounded were taken off to
the hospital ships.
_From the evening of August 7 to the evening of August 8._
So satisfied was General Stopford with the situation that he
telegraphed to Sir Ian that in his opinion Major-General Hammersley and
his troops deserved great credit for the result attained. Anxiously
awaiting news in General Headquarters at Imbros, Sir Ian replied with
congratulations to General Stopford, stating also how much was hoped
from Hammersley’s bold and rapid advance. The message must have been
prompted by Sir Ian’s inborn optimism or by official courtesy and a
desire to encourage action. For even before the telegram was sent,
tormenting doubts intruded. It was Sunday morning. The Wellingtons
and 7th Gloucesters had climbed the shoulder of Chunuk Bair; the 4th
Australian Brigade was advancing to the assault up Koja Chemen Tepe
by way of Abdel Rahman Bair; at Lone Pine the battle still raged
desperately. If ever help from Suvla was called for, it was now. But
from Suvla came only silence. Hardly a gun could be heard. No further
message arrived.
In Suvla Bay itself a Sabbath peace appeared to reign. No shells burst;
no bullets whined. It was evident that the Turks had withdrawn both
guns and infantry during the night. We could walk at leisure round the
whole beach from Suvla Point to Lala Baba. We could examine the surface
of the Salt Lake, or climb Karakol Dagh and view the calm prospect
over the Gulf of Xeros with equal security. Men whom good fortune had
stationed near the beaches enjoyed the enviable refreshment of bathing
in the sandy shallows. No attempt was being made seriously to push
forward the advance, although W Hill, the most vital point, could have
been occupied by little more than marching, and the distance even from
the beach was 4 miles at most. There was no Turk along the whole range
of Tekke Tepe.
[Sidenote: FAILURE OF WATER DISTRIBUTION]
The Divisional Generals reported to the Corps Commander that they were
unable to move owing to the exhaustion of their men.[186] Undoubtedly
the men were exhausted. The sea journey, the sleepless nights, the
great heat, the excitement of their first battle, the toilsome marching
upon loose sand, and the rations of hard biscuit and salt “bully” had
exhausted them. The 11th Division from Imbros was also infected with
the prevailing diarrhœa, and in a few cases with dysentery. But the
worst exhaustion came from thirst. In spite of all those elaborate
precautions, the water supply broke down. Plenty of water was there.
The water-lighters had arrived on the 7th. One was at A West; one went
aground at “Old A,” and men swam out to her; but Commodore Keyes towed
her near enough ashore for the hose to reach the men that afternoon.
A third was on C Beach, and probably the fourth, for the _Krene_ had
tugged in two, and was there herself, her stem on the shore. What was
wanting was not water, but the troughs and receptacles for issuing and
distribution. Men came with nothing but water-bottles, sometimes a
dozen or more, slung round their necks, and went naked with them into
the sea in hopes of drawing from the tanks. When a hose was attached,
they pierced holes in the cover, and drank, then leaving the water
to run waste. By Sunday morning a poor and leaking trough was stuck
up at one point, but it would not hold water, and the men and mules
crowding round it impeded distribution. The _Prah_ (containing all the
requisites for supply--troughs, hose, and implements for well-sinking),
owing to some over-scrupulous observance of regulations, did not issue
them till some days later. The anguish of thirst was intolerable.
Up in the firing lines some went almost mad.[187] The suffering of
the men exposed to the glaring sun upon the rocks of Kiretch Tepe was
most severe during Sunday, though it was afterwards (perhaps that
night) relieved by the kindly generosity of a destroyer (some say the
_Grampus_, but evidence is for the _Foxhound_), which was deputed
always to patrol that Gulf of Xeros coast, and on this occasion cut her
own water-tank loose and brought it ashore. Even on the beach, where
fresh water was running to waste, men filled water-bottles from the
sea. So serious were the reports from the front that General Stopford
ordered the disembarkation of the artillery horses to be delayed till
the mules for carrying up water had been landed.[188] Thus one thing
acted upon another, for it was want of artillery which finally induced
the Corps Commander to believe that immediate advance was impossible.
Brigades and even battalions were also much confused and scattered,
as we have seen. But the ultimate cause of the confusion, and of the
failure in water supply, and so of the lack of guns, was the decision
to land part of the force inside the bay, and at a beach where any
observer might have suspected shallows fit only for wading.[189]
[Sidenote: SIR IAN AT SUVLA]
Meantime Sir Ian, growing continually more impatient at the silence,
resolved about noon to leave his central position at Imbros and
investigate for himself the situation of his northern force. For some
unexplained reason his destroyer, the _Arno_, instead of keeping
steam always up, had just had her fires drawn, and could not start
till 4 p.m. During those hours of maddening delay, Sir Ian’s worst
suspicions were confirmed by a telegram from a General Staff Officer
(Lieut.-Colonel Aspinall, a trustworthy judge of military affairs)
“drawing attention to the inaction of our own troops, and to the fact
that golden opportunities were being missed.”[190] Arriving at Suvla
at 5 p.m., Sir Ian at once visited General Stopford on board the
_Jonquil_, where he still kept his headquarters so as to advise upon
any action, if any action seemed advisable. There Sir Ian heard, as he
dreaded to hear, that nothing could be done that day. The exhaustion of
the men, the confusion of units, and other pleas mentioned above were
given as reasons. But the deeper reason lay in comfortable satisfaction
with present results, and in the absence of inspiring or remorseless
energy. It is an old military principle that “A General who refuses to
pursue a retreating enemy on the plea that his troops are tired, should
be at once relieved of his command.” In Sir Ian’s own words: “Driving
power was required, and even a certain ruthlessness, to brush aside
pleas for respite for tired troops. The one fatal error was inertia.
And inertia prevailed.”
Finding it so, Sir Ian, driven by the extremity of the crisis, took a
step unusual in a Commander-in-Chief. He resolved to try what personal
influence he could use upon the Divisional Commanders. The Corps
Commander raised no objection, and, accompanied by Commodore Roger
Keyes and Lieut.-Colonel Aspinall, Sir Ian hastened to Major-General
Hammersley’s headquarters at the foot of Lala Baba. He pointed out
that time above all price was slipping away unused; that “the sands
were running out fast”; that information showed Turkish reinforcements
already approaching. General Hammersley replied that his force was much
scattered; it was impossible to get orders for a night attack round to
the battalions; and that a general attack was arranged for the early
morning. He admitted, however, that the 32nd Brigade (formerly under
Haggard, who was wounded on the previous day, and now under Colonel
Minogue) was more or less concentrated and could move. His General
Staff Officer, Colonel Neil Malcolm, an experienced soldier, confirmed
this opinion, and Sir Ian took the further unusual step of directly
ordering this brigade or any force, even if it were only a company, to
advance at once without waiting for the morning’s general attack. Their
objective was to be the high ground rising towards Tekke Tepe on the
north of Anafarta Sagir. They were to act as the advance guard to the
attack.
[Illustration: POSITION OF 32ND BRIGADE, EVENING, AUGUST 8]
[Sidenote: SCIMITAR HILL ABANDONED]
It was now 6 p.m. In ignorance, Sir Ian had given an order destined
to entail disaster. It appears almost certain that neither General
Hammersley nor his Chief of Staff knew exactly where the battalions
of the 32nd Brigade stood at the time. Otherwise they must have
informed Sir Ian that, as a matter of fact, one of the battalions (the
6th East York Pioneers) had advanced that day, had occupied Hill 70
(Scimitar Hill), and were at that moment in position there--Scimitar
Hill, next to W Hill the most vital of all the semicircle of heights
overlooking the bay! Closely supported by the 7th South Staffords, the
Pioneer Battalion was there only waiting for the brigade’s further
advance upon W Hill or Anafarta Sagir, to both of which it is the key.
Lieut.-Colonel Moore, in command of that battalion, had even sent out
three officers’ patrols, one of which actually reached the top of
Tekke Tepe, another the outskirts of Anafarta Sagir, the third a point
near Abrikja, though unable to return till dark. But no one in high
authority appears to have known of these movements. In consequence
of this ignorance, the Divisional General, instead of leaving the
selection of battalions to the Brigadier, named the 6th East York
Pioneers as the battalion to lead the advance, believing it to be
the freshest and least tried. Colonel Minogue obeyed and ordered the
battalion to rejoin the brigade concentrated at Sulajik. Colonel Moore,
commanding the 6th East Yorks, obeyed also, but did not receive the
order till 3 a.m. of the 9th. He then withdrew his tired and sleepless
battalion to Sulajik. Without a blow, Scimitar Hill was abandoned. It
was one of those apparently casual misfortunes which throughout the
campaign balked the fairest hopes just at the moment of victory, as
though an evil and ironic destiny mocked at the best-laid schemes.
Having heard from General Hammersley that the water supply was now
arranged and the troops rested, Sir Ian returned to the _Arno_ and
remained on board that night in the bay. Hearing no sound of fighting,
he assumed that the brigade had accomplished its task and established
itself on the slopes of Tekke Tepe overlooking Anafarta, without
opposition.[191]
_From the evening of August 8 to the evening of the 9th._
Unfortunately, Sir Ian’s assumption was groundless. The 32nd Brigade
was far from being concentrated as was supposed by the Divisional
General. One battalion, as we have just seen, was actually on Scimitar
Hill. The 9th West Yorks were half-way up the Anafarta Ridge, and they
tried to advance before dawn, but were overwhelmed by the enemy’s
reinforcements, thus proving that the intended morning attack would
have been dangerously late in any case.[192] The remainder were among
the trees near the farm Sulajik, where there was water. Verbal orders
reached them at 7.30 p.m., but no definite written orders arrived till
nearly 3 a.m. The mistakes were chiefly due to ignorance of location.
Instead of beginning at eight on Sunday evening, as Sir Ian intended,
the movement did not start till 4 a.m. on Monday. Then the brigade
attacked the steep slope leading up to Anafarta. It is covered with
thick and high bush, up which men can advance only in single file along
the cattle-tracks. On their right, Scimitar Hill had been abandoned,
its reverse slope being now occupied by swarms of Turkish snipers and
troops in formation, which were coming up in strong reinforcement. On
their left, one company of the 6th East Yorks (the selfsame battalion
which had occupied Scimitar Hill) succeeded in reaching that isolated
offshoot from Tekke Tepe above mentioned. But the brigade retired to
the line of Sulajik. The losses were heavy, chiefly among the Royal
Engineers, one company of whom (the 67th) accompanied the brigade.
Colonel Moore of the 6th East Yorks (Pioneers), who had shown such
grasp of the situation, was killed.
[Sidenote: THE TURKS RETURN REINFORCED]
As day advanced, the position only grew worse. It was the morning when
the party of Lancastrians and Gurkhas reached the summit near Hill Q
and stared upon the Dardanelles below. As at Chunuk Bair, so at Suvla,
the Turks were rushing up reinforcements. Three Divisions, starting
from Bulair, were beginning to debouch along the valley between the
two Anafartas, and to crowd the heights. Perceiving our inactivity
or hesitation throughout the previous day (Sunday), they now brought
back the guns they had removed on Saturday night, and increased the
number. Hill’s 31st Brigade, and that General himself, were still on
Chocolate Hill, but three battalions of Maxwell’s Brigade had now
arrived there, and the orders for the attack devolved upon him. On the
right he pushed forward those battalions of his own 33rd Brigade, which
made fair progress. Some of the leading troops were reported as even
reaching W Hill, but that appeared to me very doubtful, as I watched
the movements all day from a machine-gun emplacement near the top of
Chocolate Hill. In the centre Brigadier-General Maxwell ordered part
of the 32nd Brigade to advance again, reinforced by two of the 10th
Division battalions under Hill (6th Royal Irish Fusiliers and 6th Royal
Dublin Fusiliers). Their objective was Scimitar Hill--that hill which
had been quietly occupied and quietly abandoned only the day before!
On the left the line was extended by the 6th Lincolns (33rd Brigade)
and the whole of the 34th Brigade, which had moved from the sand dunes
near Hill 10 at last, and arrived in two detachments. Beyond them were
two battalions from the 53rd (Welsh) Division, which had been held by
Sir Ian as part of his special reserve, and was being thrown into Suvla
early that morning.
[Sidenote: OUR ADVANCE CHECKED]
Partly owing to the mixture of brigades, the attack went to pieces.
There was little combination, and no cohesion. Battalions advanced
separately here and there, and separately came back. Two or three times
one or other of them (especially the two battalions of Hill’s brigade)
came close to the summit of Scimitar Hill. A fraction of the 7th South
Staffords in the centre actually reached it. But every hour the enemy’s
fire increased. Shrapnel burst low over us. The men of the 32nd Brigade
were much shaken by their experience and heavy losses in the early
morning. All were much exhausted. Fire broke out on the left side of
the hill itself, and swept over the front and summit, consuming the
dry scrub in sheets of flame. The wounded, both British and Turk, came
creeping out on hands and knees to seek safety upon that yellow open
space or “blaze” which, as I mentioned, gave the name of “Scimitar”
to the hill. But many perished from suffocation and the extreme heat.
Many also were burnt alive, being unable to move. Except a few isolated
parties, which bravely endeavoured to hold their ground, the firing
lines and supports came swarming back. It was no wonder. The situation
was intolerable. The most hardened Regulars could not have endured it,
and hardly any of these officers and men of the New Army had known
fighting before. At length they were formed up into a confused line
along the ditches and shallow trenches between the Sulajik and Green
Hill. It was about noon.
From Chocolate Hill General Maxwell ordered the battalions to be
reorganised at once for another attack, but reorganisation was
impossible. One of the wells, which in the early morning I had found
safe, was now exposed to almost continuous rifle-fire. The usual
scenes of a battlefield added to the distress and alarm. The dead
were lying about; the wounded crying for help; the hands and faces of
hastily buried men protruded from the ground. The 6th Lincolns and
6th Borders, posted on either flank, were mentioned for “steady and
gallant behaviour” during this ordeal. The 9th Sherwood Foresters (same
Brigade) and the Herefords of the 159th were also mentioned. No further
movement was attempted. Walking back to Lala Baba towards evening, I
was asked to report to General Hammersley in his headquarters there,
but could report little good. I found, however, that he had now three
R.F.A. batteries in position behind the seaward slope of Lala Baba,
and three batteries of mountain-guns ashore, some of the guns being
close behind the summit of the hill. The warships were also firing at
intervals upon W Hill and the farthest points of Kiretch Tepe Sirt.
Along that razor-edge or whale-back ridge, Sir Bryan Mahon had now
firmly established himself with the few battalions left to his
command out of the 10th Division. Near the sea-end of the ridge,
about three-quarters of a mile from Suvla Point, General Stopford
was engaged upon the construction of a permanent Corps Headquarters
in a partially sheltered depression among the rocks. Having visited
him there in the morning, Sir Ian climbed along the ridge to Mahon’s
headquarters among the stones close behind his firing line. He found
that General confident of carrying the whole summit of Kiretch Tepe,
and it was probably whilst on that point of widely commanding view over
the whole plain to Koja Chemen Tepe and the Anzac heights that Sir Ian
resolved to press forward the attack upon the left, since the advance
upon W Hill and Anafarta Sagir was obviously now impeded. If Mahon’s
Division could fight its way along the ridge to Ejelmer Bay, and fresh
troops could win the line from Ejelmer Bay over Kavak and Tekke Tepes
to Anafarta Sagir, not only would Suvla remain safe from interference
on that side, but the Turkish reinforcements on W Hill and Scimitar
Hill would be paralysed by the threat from their right, and rendered
incapable of advancing farther towards the sea.
In the afternoon Sir Ian went to Anzac with Commodore Keyes, and, after
consultation with Generals Birdwood and Godley, telephoned to General
Stopford, urging upon him the importance of immediately seizing Kavak
Tepe and the rest of the Ejelmer-Anafarta line, which an aeroplane
reported as still unoccupied and unentrenched. At the same time he
determined to devote to this purpose the last of his own reserve--the
54th (East Anglian) Division, which, however, like the 53rd, consisted
of infantry only, and those little over half strength. The battle to
hold the summit just south of Chunuk Bair was raging at the time.
It is possible that reinforcement by a new Division might have made
all the difference there. But to supply water up those heights was
difficult, as we noticed in the last chapter, and the Generals on the
spot considered there was scarcely room for more troops in the ravines
and up the ridges. So to Suvla the 54th Division was ordered to follow
the 53rd, and Sir Ian was left without reserve. The new Division was to
arrive on the next day but one, the 11th.
_From the evening of August 9 to the evening of the 10th._
[Sidenote: RENEWED ATTACK ON SCIMITAR HILL]
General Stopford, however, was naturally still anxious to retrieve
the check suffered by General Hammersley’s command, and indeed W Hill
was still the most vital and threatening point upon the encompassing
heights. He, therefore, determined to renew the attack upon Scimitar
Hill and the more open field country between it and W Hill, around
the Abrikja farm. For this task he allotted nine battalions of the
53rd Division (Major-General Lindley), supported by two battalions of
the 11th Division on each flank. The result was more lamentable even
than the failure of the previous day. The troops of the 53rd Division
set off about six a.m. across the Salt Lake. The Turkish shrapnel and
rifle-fire poured upon them as they advanced, and only increased at the
foot of Scimitar Hill. To watch parties of them attempting to steal up
sheltered portions of the hill was a piteous sight. The cover was much
reduced, because the ground was now black with burning, and most of the
bushes gone. Many fell on all sides. The corner of a small wheatfield
near Abrikja was fringed with dead who looked like a company lying down
in the shade. One saw many deeds of courage among officers and men.
Backwards and forwards, the fighting went on all morning, but without
result. In the evening the battalions were withdrawn to their original
lines, only more confused, more disheartened, and fewer in numbers.
Generals Maxwell and Hill remained on Chocolate Hill that day. Hill’s
brigade was chiefly occupied in holding Green Hill just in front of
the other, and we were much exposed to shrapnel there, as the trenches
were incomplete. That evening, however, the withdrawal of Hill’s five
battalions in turn began. They were allowed rest and the joy of bathing
on the beach till the 13th (Friday), when they rejoined their own 10th
Division upon Kiretch Tepe Sirt.[193]
On this day, the 10th, Chunuk Bair was lost, and the chance of advance
from Suvla was almost gone. It was the saddest day in the record of
the expedition. Sir Ian telegraphed to General Stopford, ordering
him not to risk the proposed renewal of the attacks with tired and
disintegrated troops, but to consolidate the line from the Asmak Dere
past the front of Chocolate Hill through Sulajik to Kiretch Tepe Sirt.
_From the evening of August 10 to the evening of the 11th._
[Sidenote: THE LAST RESERVE LANDED]
It was indeed time that the line was consolidated. During the night and
early morning, the 54th (East Anglian) Division was being landed on the
new A Beaches near Suvla Point.[194] They formed, as has been noticed,
Sir Ian’s last reserve, and were commanded by Major-General F. S.
Inglefield, a stalwart and experienced soldier, who had seen service in
South Africa and had commanded this Territorial Division for two years,
but was already sixty. As in the case of the 53rd (Welsh) Division,
some of the best battalions had been taken for France, and others
suddenly inserted without knowledge of him or of the other battalions,
so that the essential bond of the Territorial spirit was severed. The
landing of some 10,000 or 12,000 inexperienced Territorials ignorant of
cohesion was inevitably a confused business, though only the infantry
had been sent. But that would not have mattered if the confusion
upon the front lines had not been far worse. There the condition was
indeed deplorable. Along the most critical part of the line, between
Green Hill and Sulajik, battalions and brigades were hopelessly mixed
together. The men had lost sight of their officers and their units.
They lay in any ditch or cover they could find. Here and there a party
dug trenches or improved the trenches dug at night. But theirs was not
the spirit of victory. One of the bridged fountains was now almost
deserted, as it came under fire from snipers or from the troops on
Scimitar Hill. But round the other, which was concealed among large
trees, the men still swarmed. In consequence, there was much delay and
much waste of the plentiful water, nor did any attempts to get them
into file, so that each might take his turn, avail for long.
There was no help for it. The only thing to be done was to pull out the
battalions gradually and reorganise. It was now Wednesday, and so far
as action went the day was wasted, as Sunday had been, though there was
better reason for the waste.
_From the evening of August 11 to the evening of the 12th._
That evening Sir Ian again sailed over to Suvla with the object of
urging forward his project for the occupation of the Kavak Tepe and
Tekke Tepe heights before the Turkish reinforcements could arrive and
entrench there. He had expected the 54th Division to start at once
upon a night march, so as to make the ascent at dawn, while the 53rd
Division stood in reserve. But General Stopford raised objections,
foresaw difficulties, and asked for at least twenty-four hours’
delay. He hoped that by that time the 53rd Division would have been
reorganised sufficiently to clear the way for the passage of the 54th
through the jungly, tree-covered ground at the foot of the mountain.
[Sidenote: THE 5TH NORFOLKS DISAPPEAR]
Unfortunately, even this hope was disappointed. Though the 54th
Division had not come under serious fire, the Brigadiers in both
Divisions reported that they were not yet ready for the attack. General
Inglefield, however, was able to send forward one brigade in advance.
It was the 163rd (Brigadier-General F. F. W. Daniell), consisting
of the 4th and 5th Norfolks and the 5th Suffolks and 8th Hants. The
advance began in the afternoon, and the brigade reached the farm
called Anafarta Ova, though the enemy’s opposition steadily increased
as the forest and bush became thicker. Then occurred one of the minor
but startling tragedies of the war. The 5th Norfolks, on the right
of the brigade, were led by Colonel Sir Horace Beauchamp, a bold and
self-confident cavalry officer, who had commanded the 20th Hussars,
and seen hard service in Egypt, the Soudan, and South Africa. In the
army he had been known as “The Bo’sun” owing to his love and knowledge
of the sea.[195] Perhaps inspired by old memories, perhaps hoping to
inspire Territorials also with the tradition of Regulars, or to show
the Generals what this Division could do under dashing leadership, he
led his battalion rapidly forward in advance of the brigade. He was
last seen among the scattered outbuildings of the farm, carrying a cane
and encouraging his men to follow. They reached the rising ground from
which the steep front of Tekke Tepe springs. Whether Colonel Beauchamp
intended to carry the mountain unassisted, or to secure the edge of the
Anafarta plateau to his right front, cannot be known. The bush grew
thicker; the battalion lost formation; the enemy’s fire increased; many
stragglers turned back and reached the Division during the night.
“But,” in Sir Ian’s words, “the Colonel, with 16 officers and 250
men, still kept pushing on, driving the enemy before him. Amongst
those ardent souls was part of a fine company enlisted from the
King’s Sandringham estates. Nothing more was ever seen or heard of
any of them. They charged into the forest, and were lost to sight or
sound. Not one of them ever came back.”
One cannot doubt that their bones lie among the trees and bushes at the
foot of that dark and ominous hill, and the last real hope of Suvla Bay
faded with their tragic disappearance.
In spite of all discouragement, Sir Ian’s mind was still set on
securing a further advance by the occupation of Kavak and Tekke Tepes.
He agreed to the postponement of attack for another twenty-four hours,
and it was arranged for the night and morning of August 13–14. But
on the afternoon of the 13th (Friday), on returning to Suvla with
Major-General Braithwaite, his Chief of Staff, he found that General
Stopford still raised objections. Two out of his four Divisional
Generals despaired of success. The line, he considered, was already
too long for his troops. Some of the brigades were still disorganised
and shaken. Finding that this temper of uncertainty and depression
prevailed, Sir Ian could do nothing but cancel the scheme of attack,
and order the IXth Corps to reorganise and consolidate a line as far
forward as possible.
[Sidenote: THE 10TH DIVISION ON AUGUST 15]
One further effort was, however, made on Sunday, August 15, when
General Stopford called upon the Irish 10th Division to advance along
the Kiretch Tepe Sirt in the direction of Ejelmer Bay. The two brigades
now under Sir Bryan Mahon advanced along the lofty ridge, part along
the summit, the rest strung out down the steep slope towards the sea.
The brigades were the 30th (Nicol’s) and 31st (Hill’s). On the reverse
or southern slope the 162nd (De Winton’s) Brigade, 54th Division,
advanced through thick bushes and deep ravines in support. An unusual
amount of artillery was employed. The 15th Heavy Battery had arrived a
few days before. The 58th Brigade R.F.A. (10th Division) had marched
along the coast from Anzac with safety, and all these guns were
engaged, besides a mountain battery, some machine-guns, and the guns of
the destroyers _Grampus_ and _Foxhound_, firing from the Gulf of Xeros.
But in spite of this support the advance moved very slowly. It started
about noon, and crept bit by bit along the “whale-back,” a good line
being kept from the summit down to the sea, but halts frequent, and
progress difficult. The ground was all rocky, and most of it covered
with prickly scrub, burnt in parts. The summit was bare rock, and the
distance to be traversed under fire about a mile and a half. A prisoner
told us the Turks had six fresh battalions in line or in strongly
fortified redoubts, each battalion provided with twelve machine-guns.
That may be exaggerated, but the machine-guns were numerous and
deadly. Soon after the beginning of the general advance, Major Jephson
was mortally wounded upon the Post which he had originally won and
which always bore his name.
Meantime, the 5th Inniskilling Fusiliers, supported by the 6th, had
been extended over the southern slope in front of the 162nd Brigade.
Here the difficulties of advance were even greater, owing to the tangle
of very thick and lofty bush, the steep gullies, the inability of the
naval guns to afford assistance, and the deadly fire from the long
Turkish trench running down the slope in front, as well as from the
guns on the Anafarta and W Hills. Having left the summit, I happened to
be with this part of the attack soon after five o’clock, and found the
men broken up into small groups by the impenetrable bush. Their loss,
especially in officers, was very heavy. Again and again the groups
attempted to combine and advance, but were driven back by the storm of
fire. Progress on that side was impossible. Three battalions of the
162nd Brigade (10th and 11th London and 5th Beds) supported the attack
upon these foothills, and gained their supposed objective, but suffered
heavy loss.
Suddenly, hearing a yell of shouting on our left, I looked up to the
summit, and saw a body of men charging along it with flashing bayonets.
Others, standing up on higher ground behind them, were pouring out a
rapid magazine fire. Two companies of the 6th Munsters and two of the
6th Dublins had worked half-way along the edge between Jephson’s Post
and the Pimple. The remaining 250 yards they now covered with a charge,
cheering as they ran. Some Turks met bayonet with bayonet, and died.
Some threw up their hands. Most ran. One could see them scurrying back
along the ridge and down the southern slope. The Irish pursued them
through the Pimple redoubt and beyond. It was six o’clock.[196]
In the gathering darkness the men attempted to build small sangars of
the rocks, but no real trenching was possible. They lay out in lines
along the seaward slope just below the summit. Then the failure to win
the southern slope was bitterly felt. Twice in the night the Turks
counter-attacked, creeping along that landward side, and, for the first
attack, rushing over the top, only to be cut down by rifle and bayonet.
In the attack just before dawn they trusted chiefly to a deadly form
of round bomb, which they lobbed over the crest in vast numbers. The
Irish could only reply with improvised jam-pot bombs, and few of those.
Sometimes, however, they caught the Turkish bombs and flung them back.
Private Wilkin, of the 7th Dublins, flung back five, but was blown to
pieces by the sixth.
[Sidenote: FAILURE TO ADVANCE ON KIRETCH TEPE]
So the harassing conflict continued. It continued all next day under
the burning sun. The loss was extreme. Many of the very best officers
fell. The 5th and 6th Royal Irish Fusiliers were almost exterminated.
During the night of the 16th-17th the shattered brigades were withdrawn
from the untenable position. It was never recovered. Jephson’s Post and
the steep slopes leading down on either side, one to the sea, the other
to the plain, remained the farthest points held by our lines along the
Kiretch Tepe Sirt.
This attack of August 15 was General Stopford’s last order. That
evening he gave up the command of the IXth Corps, and Major-General
De Lisle took his place, awaiting the arrival of Major-General Julian
Byng. Brigadier-General H. L. Reed, however, remained as Chief of Staff
to the Corps. Meantime, in place of De Lisle, Major-General W. R.
Marshall (87th Brigade) took command of the 29th Division. A few days
later, Major-General Lindley (at his own request) gave up the command
of the 53rd (Welsh) Division, and was appointed to the military command
at Mudros. Major-General Hammersley retired from command of the 11th
Division owing to serious illness. The same cause unfortunately removed
Major-General F. C. Shaw from the 13th (Western) Division, which he had
commanded with such skill and firmness during the assault on Sari Bair.
Brigadier-General Sitwell was succeeded in command of the 34th Brigade
by Brigadier-General J. Hill. Soon afterwards the command of the 31st
Brigade was taken over by Lieut.-Colonel J. G. King-King in place of
Brigadier-General F. F. Hill, who fell seriously ill. It became known
that, besides General Julian Byng, Major-General E. A. Fanshawe and
Major-General F. Stanley Maude (afterwards the hero of Bagdad) were
coming out.
_Note._--Subsequent Turkish information gives the Turkish forces on
the Peninsula on August 6 as follow:--
At Helles, 4 divisions in the line, and 1 in reserve (_c._ 40,000
men) with 94 guns; at Anzac, 3 divisions and 1 regiment in the line,
with 2 regiments in reserve (_c._ 20,000 men) with 76 guns; at Suvla,
3 battalions (_c._ 2000 men) and 20 guns; between Helles and Anzac,
1 division on guard, and 1 in reserve (_c._ 10,000 men); at Bulair,
3 divisions (_c._ 20,000 men) and 80 guns; on the Asiatic coast, 3
divisions. Total on the Peninsula, _c._ 92,000 men and 270 guns.
CHAPTER XIII
THE LAST EFFORTS
The great assault of the second week in August, extending from Lone
Pine to Kiretch Tepe Sirt, and having the mountain height of Chunuk
Bair as the centre of its line, must be described as a failure. It
failed of its objects--the objects of the whole military campaign--to
open the Straits for the fleet, to secure the possession of
Constantinople, to hold all the Balkan States steady for our Alliance,
to complete the blockade of the Central Powers by land and sea, to
divert any possible threat towards Egypt, or towards the Persian Gulf,
and so to hasten the termination of the war. The aim of this fine
strategical conception was not accomplished, and the causes of failure
have been suggested in the narrative of the three preceding chapters.
Incidents and accidents contributed--the gallant but hopeless attempt
to cross the Nek in face of the Chessboard redoubt, the gallant but
unsuccessful attempts to hold the summits at Chunuk Bair and “Hill Q,”
the error of Baldwin’s brigade, the confusion of the landing inside
Suvla Bay, the separation of the units in the 10th Division, the
immobility of the 11th Division on August 7 and 8, the breakdown of the
water supply through want of receptacles, the unwitting recall of a
battalion from Scimitar Hill on the evening of Sunday the 8th, and the
apparent failure of the Higher Command at Suvla to realise the vital
necessity of speed and energy, no matter at what cost, during the four
critical days from the morning of the 7th to the evening of the 10th.
But at the back of all these causes of failure lay the ultimate
reason that many of the troops employed, especially at Suvla, were
not strong or experienced enough for the difficult task of attacking
an enemy posted in the most favourable positions for defence, over
an unknown, complicated, and deserted country, and in unaccustomed
conditions of intense heat and insatiable thirst. Few in the New Army
or Territorial Divisions were acquainted with the realities of war;
few had been exposed to its sudden and overwhelming perils. They had
neither the traditions, nor the veteran experience, nor the disciplined
self-confidence of the Regular Army. They had neither the physique,
nor the adventurous spirit, nor the intense national bond of the
Anzacs. What they might have done under more decisive or youthful or
inspiring leadership we can judge only from their subsequent rapid
improvement even upon the Peninsula, and from their excellent service
in later campaigns--such service as was performed in Palestine by
these Territorial Divisions. But in August 1915 their leadership was
not conspicuously decisive, youthful, or inspiring. And so it came
about that General Stopford suffered the worst fate which can befall a
commanding officer in the field.
[Sidenote: GAINS AND FAILURES]
On the other hand, the gain had been considerable. The important,
though not vital positions of the Vineyard at Helles, and Lone Pine on
the right front at Anzac, had been won. In the centre, the Anzac Corps
were relieved from an arduous, if not untenable, situation. It could
now move freely over a widely extended ground; many points formerly
harassed by the enemy’s guns and snipers were now secure; water-springs
had been gained; and the lines were drawn three or four miles nearer
the summits of Sari Bair. On the left, Suvla Bay afforded a more
sheltered winter roadstead than Kephalos. The lofty ridge of Kiretch
Tepe Sirt was ours to the summit, and the wide plain around the Salt
Lake, including Chocolate and Green Hills, was ours also. We held the
entrance of the broad valley leading up to Biyuk Anafarta, and, but for
the risk from occasional snipers, communication with Anzac was freely
open.[197] To these great advantages must be added the heavy losses
inflicted upon the Turks--losses, however, which were counterbalanced
by our own, and could be more speedily replaced.
The immediate weakness of our position was due to the enemy’s continued
occupation of the heights in the range of varied mountain and plateau
from Ejelmer Bay to W Hill; for guns on those heights commanded the
greater part of the Salt Lake plain and the positions round the
bay, especially on the north side, where our main landing-places
and headquarters were situated. Another weakness was the enemy’s
occupation of Hill 60 (Kaiajik Aghala), which faces W Hill across the
Biyuk Anafarta valley and commanded the approach to the upper reaches,
as well as threatening the communication between Anzac and Suvla.
Reckoning up the advantages gained, and refusing to be discouraged by
the ill-success of his main design, Sir Ian resolved at once to remove
these causes of weakness by a renewal of the combined attack. It was
probable also that, if the reinforced Turkish Army were allowed to
remain undisturbed, it would assume a violent offensive, especially
directed against Suvla.
[Sidenote: ADEQUATE REINFORCEMENTS REFUSED]
The losses during the second week in August had been serious--not less
than 30,000 on all three fronts together. Sir Ian estimated his total
force at 95,000 in the middle of August (40,000, including 17,000
French troops, at Helles; 25,000 at Anzac; under 30,000 at Suvla).[198]
But this was a sanguine estimate. The real fighting strength of the
British and Anzac troops was probably not over 60,000, and of the
French about 15,000. The British Divisions alone were short by nearly
1500 officers. On August 16 he telegraphed to Lord Kitchener stating
that 45,000 rifles to fill up gaps in the British Divisions, and
50,000 rifles as fresh reinforcements, were essential for a quick
and victorious decision.[199] Unfortunately, as it now appears, the
great strategic and political conception of the Dardanelles had now
less support than ever in the Cabinet. The fall of Warsaw (August 4)
had destroyed the last hope of Russian co-operation. The influence
of the “Westerners” was supreme. The attempt to break through the
German line at Loos in September was already in preparation, and all
available forces were concentrated upon that. By various means, an
increasingly despondent or hostile criticism of the Gallipoli campaign
was insinuated throughout the country, and Sir Ian’s request for
further assistance was refused. The hesitating Cabinet may have hoped
that, if the Western offensive succeeded, the Dardanelles campaign,
after remaining suspended for two or three months, might then be
pushed forward again without loss of opportunity. If that was their
expectation, they had forgotten Napoleon’s maxim, that war is like a
woman in that, if once you miss your opportunity, you need never expect
to find either war or woman the same again.
All the reinforcement allowed for the moment was the 2nd Mounted
Division from Egypt, where it had been in training since April. This
Division of four brigades, numbering just under 5000 men, was composed
of Yeomanry regiments from the Midland and Southern counties. The men
were of singularly fine physique, accustomed to hunting, and well
trained in cavalry manœuvres. But, like all “mounted” forces on the
Peninsula, they left their horses in Egypt and fought on foot. They
were under the command of Major-General William Peyton, a cavalry
officer, who had served with distinction in Egypt and South Africa, and
was now about fifty.[200] His Brigadiers and regimental officers were
also cavalrymen of distinction, and, so far as its numbers allowed,
the Division could be counted upon to strengthen any attack.[201]
[Sidenote: THE ASSAULT OF AUGUST 21]
But, however excellent in itself, the Mounted Division was not numerous
enough to give stability to the Suvla Divisions, most of which were
still fatigued and disheartened by the ill success of their first
attempts at warfare.[202] In the hope of affording the much-needed
stiffening to the IXth Corps, Major-General De Lisle, accordingly, was
instructed to bring the three brigades of his own 29th Division round
from Helles by night, and land them at Suvla for the attack. They were
under the command of their next senior officer, Major-General W. R.
Marshall of the 87th Brigade. De Lisle himself, being in temporary
command of the IXth Corps, directed the whole action. His scheme was
very simple. On his right, the 11th Division was to assault the
trenches which the Turks had now dug across the Biyuk Anafarta valley
or plain, south and a little east of Chocolate and Green Hills, and so
to protect the right flank until the moment came for a general attack
upon W Hill, the ultimate objective of the whole movement. On his
centre, the 29th Division was to storm Scimitar Hill, the possession of
which, as before explained, was essential to any advance against W Hill
itself. To his left, the long line from Sulajik Farm across the wooded
plain up to the summit of Kiretch Tepe was held by the two Territorial
Divisions, the 53rd and 54th, so as to check any attempt to turn the
flank on that side by getting behind our attacking force. Chocolate
Hill, 1000 yards from the summit of Scimitar Hill, was the centre
of our advance, and on the night of August 20–21 the 29th Division
entered the trenches close to the left of that hill, the 11th Division
stretching down the slope and into the plain on the right.
The action was to open with the customary bombardment, intended to
shatter the enemy’s trenches. For this purpose, two battleships and
two cruisers were available, and on land the IXth Corps’ artillery now
counted two R.F.A. Brigades (short of horses), two heavy batteries,
two mountain batteries, and two batteries of 5-inch howitzers.[203]
For an Army Corps of nominally six Divisions the number of guns was
absurdly small. But as the front to be attacked measured only a mile,
it was hoped the bombardment would be effective. Unfortunately, even
this hope was frustrated by a condition which could not be foreseen.
Usually, in the afternoon, the prospect from Suvla towards the hills
is brilliantly clear. The whole range stands visible in every detail.
The westering sun appears to reveal every kink and cranny, every tree
and mass of bush. Even as far away as Sari Bair, the rocks of Koja
Chemen ravine, the “chimney” down the face of Chunuk Bair, and the
yellow patch of the Farm are distinct in the clear air and sunlight.
For this reason the afternoon had been chosen for attack, the sun being
then behind us, but glaring, as might be hoped, in the enemy’s eyes.
But that day it so happened that the whole country was covered with a
thin grey mist, as on an October morning in England. From the sea, the
hills were dim. From the front, all details were obscured. Sir Ian, who
had come over from Imbros, wished to postpone the attack, and prudence
might have been wise for once. But he tells us that “various reasons”
which remain unknown, but were perhaps concerned with the presence of
the 29th Division in the Suvla sphere, made postponement impossible.
Accordingly, at 2.45 a violent bombardment began, directed upon
Scimitar and W Hills. It was a terrific sight. Our large shells flung
up great spouts and fountains of earth and stones, so that the summits
smoked with repeated eruption. At the same time, the air was full
of the white balls of bursting shrapnel. But the Turks could answer
now. At first they directed their shrapnel and high explosives upon
Chocolate Hill, where we had twenty-eight machine-guns in position.
Besides the guns on W Hill, the Turks now had guns concealed somewhere
on the Anafarta plateau or on the foothills of Tekke Tepe, whence they
could bring a converging fire to bear. Their bombardment of our
position was very heavy. The shells tore at our parapets. The air above
our trenches hissed with bullets and fragments. Many of us were struck.
But at 3.15 our infantry began to advance.[204]
[Illustration: CONTOUR IN METRES.
(1m. = 39.87 in.)
ATTACK OF 11TH DIVISION, AUGUST 21]
[Sidenote: MISTAKES IN ADVANCE ON RIGHT]
On the right the 34th Brigade (now under Brigadier-General J. Hill)
advanced successfully across the narrow front of plain between the
small farms of Hetman Chair and Aire Kavak (a quarter-mile south of
Hetman). They took the trenches on the plain without great loss. But
the 32nd Brigade (now under Lieut.-Colonel J. T. R. Wilson), which was
to have kept in touch with them at Hetman Chair, and to have seized
a long trench running thence towards W Hill, lost direction and kept
edging off to their left or north-east, instead of due east. The plain
is open but for a sprinkling of small trees, and the mist was not thick
enough to confuse. They may have been attracted by the chance of cover
among the slopes leading up to the hills on their left, and the fire
from the long communication trench was certainly very severe. It was
still more unfortunate that when the 33rd Brigade (Maxwell’s) was sent
up to capture the trench at all costs, they “fell into precisely the
same error,” as we are told. Some of the brigade followed the 32nd
to the left; some edged away to their right in the direction of Susuk
Kuyu, which must have taken them behind the 34th Brigade, almost into
the Anzac country. But as we are further told that the 32nd, though
without success, attempted to rectify the error by bravely attacking
the trench from the north-east, the solution remains uncertain.[205]
The attack on that side did not develop further. After 4.30 p.m. one
could perceive that the battalions were confused, and still suffering
heavily both from that long and loopholed trench which ran across the
open almost diagonally to their right flank, and from most formidable
trenches which the Turks had now visibly constructed right across
the sombre face of W Hill, against which they showed up as lines of
whitish grey, loopholed also and roofed with head-cover. Parties
tried to press forward here and there, and the dead lay scattered.
Two stretcher-bearers I saw quietly going up a slope under very heavy
fire, when both fell dead simultaneously, dropping on hands and knees,
so that the stretcher remained supported on their shoulders after
they were dead. But no individual courage could retrieve the error of
direction.
[Sidenote: THE 29TH DIVISION IN THE CENTRE]
The attack in the centre suffered from the mistake. The 29th Division
now contained far less than half of the troops who landed in April.
Few indeed of their original officers were left, few of the trusted
sergeants and corporals whom they knew. They had been brought hurriedly
into the midst of an unknown scene, and found themselves included
between lines of unknown and untried battalions. Their former
General was gone. His successor was compelled to remain in the Corps
Headquarters far away on Karakol Dagh. The Division was commanded by
the C.O. of a brigade. None the less, this indomitable Division, in
this its last battle upon the Peninsula, displayed to the last the
indomitable spirit habitual to its nature, and fought with the same
proud self-sacrifice and confident enthusiasm as had distinguished it
at the landing.
Between 3.30 and 4, the 87th Brigade (2nd South Wales Borderers, 1st
K.O.S.B., 1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, and 1st Border Regiment)
advanced from our front trenches, and began working up through the
bush on the left front of Scimitar Hill. At first they were partially
concealed by the thickets or covered by dead ground in ravines.
Reaching the top of the slope, they charged forward to the summit. The
Inniskillings, who were leading, actually gained it. They drove the
Turks back along the communication trenches towards Anafarta Sagir.
They even pursued them down the reverse slope, which is not steep but
runs without much fall toward the village plateau. For a few minutes
the Hill was ours. But still stronger trenches had been constructed on
the edge of the plateau beyond. They were invisible from the ascent to
Scimitar Hill; but from Chocolate Hill we could see fire flashing from
them, and Turks springing on to the parapets to pour bullets upon our
scattered line as it advanced. At the same time the enemy’s guns on
W Hill and on the concealed point near the foot of Tekke Tepe hurled
a storm of incessant shrapnel over the summit of Scimitar Hill and
all its slopes. The converging fire was intolerable. Unless help came
speedily, the position could not be held. It is doubtful whether any
help could have retained the hold. But none came.
On the right of the hill the 86th Brigade (2nd Royal Fusiliers, 1st
Lancashire Fusiliers, 1st Munster Fusiliers, and 1st Dublin Fusiliers)
was intended to storm the position in a similar manner from that side.
But as they advanced they found their progress hindered by battalions
of the 32nd and 33rd Brigades, which, as narrated above, had edged off
to their left instead of keeping their direction straight forward and
working on parallel lines with the 29th Division. Battalions in the
three brigades thus converged and became confused. The men were mixed
up in the shallow valley beyond Green Hill and upon the south-west
slopes of Scimitar Hill. Instead of being covered by the 11th Division
as intended, the right flank of the 29th Division was hampered and
almost paralysed. Such battalions as got clear attempted to work up
that side of the hill, turning north-east. But the confusion was
increased by a raging fire, which with long tongues of flame consumed
what was left of the bush around the base of the hill already called
“Burnt,” and entirely shut off co-operation with the 87th Brigade on
the left. Such parties as reached the broad bare patch of ravine from
which the other name of “Scimitar” was derived, became at once exposed
to the storm of shrapnel and rifle-fire. Sir Ian in his dispatch says,
“The leading troops were simply swept off the top of the spur, and
had to fall back to a ledge south-west of Scimitar Hill, where they
found a little cover.” If the “top of the spur” means the summit of
the hill, it is certain that none of this brigade ever reached it. The
Inniskillings were the only men who occupied it even for a time.
[Sidenote: ADVANCE OF THE YEOMANRY]
About five o’clock the Yeomanry Division was ordered to advance from
the cover of Lala Baba, where it had remained in reserve, and to take
up its position under the slighter cover of Chocolate Hill. In extended
order the small brigades, each numbering about 350, advanced with the
steadiness and regularity of parade across the bare and fully exposed
level of the Salt Lake. Some of the enemy’s guns diverted their fire
from Scimitar Hill and showered shrapnel over the slowly moving lines.
But their regularity was exactly maintained, and owing to the accurate
distance kept in the intervals the loss was small. Only too eager to
reach the firing line, they forced their way through the reserves of
the 11th Division around the slopes on the left side of Chocolate Hill,
and plunged into the brigades at the centre of the lines, already so
much confused and embarrassed. There was much delay, and in places the
crowding troops exposed themselves unnecessarily to heavy fire. But the
2nd South Midland Brigade (Bucks, Berks, and Dorsets) concentrated, as
was intended, behind Chocolate Hill itself, and was at last able to
advance with fair cohesion. Very slowly the men made their way across
our trenches to the left front of the hill, and through the difficult
and intricate ground beyond, still swept by the flames of the burning
bushes, and encumbered by groups of men who had lost leadership. It was
past seven by the time they reached the foot of the main ascent, and
began to work their way up through fire and smoke and shrapnel.
At 7.30, through the gathering obscurity of mists and evening, we
from the parapet in front of Chocolate Hill dimly discerned a crowd
of khaki figures struggling at full speed up that broad, bare patch
of the “Scimitar.” They seemed to gain the summit, and then darkness
covered them. All thought the terrible position was won at last, and
though there was no cheering, and hardly a word was said, all felt the
joy of hope renewed. We did not know the hope was disappointed as soon
as raised. The cross-fire of shrapnel, machine-guns, and rifles from
the two hidden trenches beyond the summit, swept off the Yeomanry as
it had swept off the 87th Brigade at an earlier hour. Hearing that the
position was utterly untenable, General Marshall was compelled to order
a withdrawal to the original line, and in the darkness the sorely tried
and exhausted men came back. One regiment, working round the right of
the hill later in the evening, gained a knoll between Scimitar and W
Hills, apparently near the Abrikja Farm, and reported they had taken W
Hill itself. When the mistake was discovered, they also were withdrawn,
for in daylight they would have been exterminated there.[206]
[Sidenote: FAILURE AT SCIMITAR HILL]
This unsuccessful attempt to capture the hill so ominously known as
“Scimitar,” and occupied, it may be remembered, without opposition
by a single battalion on Sunday evening, August 8, cost little less
than 6500 casualties. Most of the loss fell on the 29th Division, but
the Yeomanry lost nearly 1000 of their small force, and among the
killed were Brigadier-General F. A. Kenna, V.C. (formerly of the 21st
Lancers), Brigadier-General the Earl of Longford (formerly of the 2nd
Life Guards), whose body was never found, and Sir John Milbanke, V.C.
(formerly of the 10th Hussars), commanding the Sherwood Rangers.[207]
The failure of the attempt had proved that even when acting in
combination with the finest Regulars, inexperienced and untried
brigades cannot be hurried into the firing lines of an important attack
without risk of confusion or collapse. For neither in officers nor
in men had the sense of leadership, confidence, or even of direction
been trained into an instinct strong enough to bear the strain of
the shocks and confused impressions inevitable to a violently opposed
advance.
On the south or Anzac side of the broad valley leading up to Biyuk
Anafarta, the action was far more successful. The main object in this
region was to secure complete possession of the Kaiajik Aghala, that
rough and intersected ridge partly occupied by the 4th Australian
Infantry Brigade during the general attack upon Sari Bair a fortnight
earlier. That brigade, reduced to some 1500 men, now held a position
separated by a deep creek from the main ridge, the whole of which, and
especially the broad and flattish eminence at the northern extremity,
had been occupied by the Turks and strongly fortified. The white lines
of their trenches were visible from Suvla and the whole district, the
earth being whitish there, as though mixed with chalk. The eminence,
which we knew as Hill 60, was chequered with these lines, and resembled
the back of a large tortoise with the markings picked out in white.
It was, indeed, converted into a fortress commanding the broad and
flattish valley between it and W Hill about one and a half miles away.
As before explained, the possession of Hill 60 was essential for the
security of communication between Anzac and Suvla. If W Hill had been
occupied, Biyuk Anafarta and the northern approaches to Koja Chemen
Tepe would also have lain open.
[Sidenote: ATTACK ON KABAK KUYU WELLS]
Only a short distance west of Hill 60, just where the ridge begins
to rise from the plain, two wells called Kabak (or Kaba) Kuyu are
situated, equally desirable to the enemy and to ourselves. These
also the Turks had strongly fortified, and our first stroke was to
seize them. Major-General Sir Herbert Cox, who was in command of
the whole movement, had at his disposal his own Indian Brigade, two
regiments (Canterbury and Otago) of New Zealand Mounted Rifles, a mixed
force of the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade, the 4th South Wales
Borderers (40th Brigade, 13th Division), the 5th Connaught Rangers,
and the 10th Hampshires (both of the 29th Brigade, 10th Division,
now under Lieut.-Colonel Agnew).[208] His guns were commanded by
Brigadier-General Napier Johnston. He arranged his line so as to have
the 5th Gurkhas in the open ground on his extreme left, guarding
the communication with Suvla, the Connaught Rangers in the centre
opposite the wells, the New Zealanders under Brigadier-General Russell
to the right of them, the Hampshires in support of the Australians
who attacked on the right, and the remainder in reserve. After a
preliminary but insufficient bombardment, the advance began about 3.30
p.m. on August 21, almost exactly at the same time as the attack upon
Scimitar Hill across the broad valley.
The moment the guns ceased, the Connaught Rangers, who were finely
commanded throughout by Lieut.-Colonel Jourdain, issued from a ravine
in the maze of Damakjelik Hill, where they had lain concealed all day.
“With a yell like hounds breaking covert,” they dashed forward by
platoons in line. They had nearly 400 yards to run, and the ground was
open. A terrible fire from the parapets around the wells and from the
slopes of Hill 60 itself met them at once. Without firing a shot in
answer, they charged forward with bayonets level. It was a race which
a young officer won--an International football player for Ireland. The
Turks stood the wild onset, but not for long. In a few minutes they
had died or escaped; the wells were ours, the communications cleared.
A reserve company charged still farther forward to assist the New
Zealanders at the foot of Hill 60, but was almost exterminated.[209]
The remainder became scattered in the confusion of the assault, lost
direction, and were not re-formed till nightfall.
[Sidenote: FIRST ATTACK ON HILL 60]
To the right of the Connaught Rangers, the New Zealanders issued at
the same time from the almost inextricable gullies of the Damakjelik,
but between them and Hill 60 ran a singularly deep ravine, one of the
branches of the Kaiajik Dere. In climbing down the steep side of this
ravine, entangled in prickly bushes, many fell to the bullets poured
from the opposite trenches, and the bodies of many who fell there
could not be recovered for burial. The only chance for safety was to
rush down to the bottom of the ravine and shelter in the dead ground
against the steep side of the hill itself. The New Zealanders made
the rush, and some succeeded in climbing up the dead ground opposite
and driving the enemy out from 50 yards of his lowest trench. Others
remained clinging to the steep side, and there a few of the South Wales
Borderers, who came between the New Zealanders and the Connaught
Rangers, succeeded in joining them. Three hundred yards farther to
their right, a party of the 4th Australian Brigade rushed across the
ravine in the same manner, and the hundred who came over untouched
also clung to the side of the hill just below the trench. So the night
was passed, our men along the steep dead ground just holding their
position, but exposed to repeated bombing from the trench above them.
Fortunately, the Australian Brigade dug a deep zigzag right across the
middle of the ravine as a communication trench, thus rendering the
approach over the upper or southern reach of the Dere fairly secure.
During the night also many wounded, lying on the exposed slope of the
ravine, and drawing attention by their cries, were brought in. But the
hours passed in great peril and discomfort.[210]
[Sidenote: SECOND ATTACK ON HILL 60]
Next morning a new battalion (the 18th Australian) appeared. It had
arrived at Anzac only the day before as the first instalment of the
2nd Australian Division, commanded by Major-General J. G. Legge, who
had occupied various military positions in New South Wales, had served
in South Africa, and represented Australia on the Imperial General
Staff.[211] Early on August 22 the 18th Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel
A. E. Chapman) passed through the Gurkhas on our left, and charging
across the open, fought their way up the northern end of the hill and
captured another piece of the outer trench. Bombed and enfiladed there,
most of them struggled along the trench to their right--a difficult
task, for the Turks had dug it so deep and narrow that only one man
at a time could squeeze along it. Thus they linked up with the New
Zealanders, still in the same position where they had passed the night.
The trench, in fact, ran continuously all round the oval of the hill,
and for the next five days we could but cling on to the small segment
gained. Meantime the Connaught Rangers were withdrawn for four days to
rest. They had lost 12 officers and over 250 men.[212] After the first
attack, the 29th (British) Brigade under Colonel Agnew was employed by
General Russell to dig a communication trench past Kaba Kuyu to Hill
60. They therefore had little rest.
The hill was not taken, but so important was the position considered
that Major-General Cox was instructed to attack once more on August
27, three weeks after the beginning of the great battle of Suvla-Sari
Bair. The fighting round Hill 60 had, in fact, been almost continuous
since the 21st. The battalions were now worn so thin by losses and
sickness (especially by dysentery) that definite numbers of men were
allotted for action instead of units. On the right, 350 men were chosen
from the 4th Australian Brigade; in the centre, 100 Maoris and 300
New Zealanders from the Mounted Rifles Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury,
Wellington, and Otago), together with 100 of the new 18th Australian
Battalion; on the left, 250 of the Connaught Rangers--only 1100 men
in all.[213] This attacking party was under the direct command of
Brigadier-General Russell.
The action began at 4 p.m. with the usual, as it was the last,
bombardment. Sir Ian describes it as “the heaviest we could afford,”
and certainly it appeared sufficient to flatten out any trenches. None
the less, as was usual from first to last in this campaign, its terrors
were deceptive, and the moment that the assaulting parties advanced
they were met by overwhelming fire. The Australians on the right were
swept back by a whole battery of machine-guns. The Connaught Rangers
on the left, though much enfeebled by dysentery, charged upon the
northern trenches with their accustomed enthusiasm. Torn by accurate
shrapnel as they ran forward, they still fought their way into the
first narrow trench, and occupied it by 6 p.m. But all that evening
and night, by the light of the crescent moon, the Turks stormed down
upon them in successive waves, shouting their battle-cry of “Allah!
Allah!” At 10.30 p.m. they bombed and shot the Rangers out of the
northern extremity, and drove them along the trench upon the centre. It
was in vain that their own reserves (forty-four sick men!) came up to
reinforce, and the 9th Light Horse (3rd Australian Light Horse Brigade)
attempted about midnight to recapture the position. Only in the centre
were the New Zealanders able to cling tight to the 150 yards they had
by this time already won.
[Sidenote: THE LAST BATTLE]
All next day (August 28) the Turkish attacks upon that position
continued with repeated violence. The shattered remnants of the
Connaught Rangers were withdrawn, but still the New Zealanders held on
through the long hours and the next night, until at 1 a.m. on the 29th
all that remained of the 10th Light Horse, after their wild assault
upon the Nek three weeks before, formed up in the trenches occupied
by the New Zealanders, and stormed across the centre of the fortified
hill, driving the enemy sheer off the circumference of the western
semicircle. The eastern side of the hill was never taken, but our line
was advanced till it ran across the summit, and there consolidated. Our
loss was about 1000. The Turkish loss was roughly estimated at 5000,
and we captured 46 prisoners and a considerable quantity of rifles and
ammunition, besides three trench-mortars and three machine-guns. It
was not a great action judged by the standard of the battles in the war
elsewhere. But it was an action worthy of the persistence, courage, and
endurance displayed throughout by Anzacs, Irish, and British upon the
Peninsula; and it was the last.
The whole of the Anzac force, which had never left the fighting zone
since the landing in April, was now gradually withdrawn by battalions
(only 200 or 300 men in each) to rest in Mudros, their places being
filled in turn by the newly arrived 2nd Australian Division, which,
however, was not completely settled upon that hard-won ground till
after the first week in September.[214] The 54th (East Anglian)
Division was also brought round from Suvla, Major-General Inglefield’s
headquarters being dug upon the Aghyl Dere, and his Division extended
north over the ravines of Damakjelik up to the confines of Hill 60
itself. But the 13th Division, now under Major-General F. Stanley
Maude, was returned to the IXth Corps at Suvla, so that Anzac did not
gain.
CHAPTER XIV
SIR IAN’S RECALL
Upon the Peninsula, it was difficult to estimate the general spirit
of the army during the six weeks which followed the valiant but only
partially successful efforts of August. They were a period of enforced
inactivity seldom interrupted, and the usual effect of inactivity upon
an army, as upon civilians, is depression. During the campaign it was
often observed that in most Divisions the prospect of action, however
perilous, at once reduced the sickness, as though to prove tedium
more unwholesome than death. But in September tedium supervened, and
the diseases of dysentery and diarrhœa, always prevalent since June,
spread like a plague. The average of serious cases rose to 1000 a day,
and though by far the greater number of the patients returned to duty,
the percentage of “casualties” from sickness alone was in some weeks
calculated at 300 per annum of the total force, so that large drafts
were required to maintain the army even at its shrunken strength. It
must also be remembered that both these diseases have a peculiarly
depressing effect upon the spirit, weakening the will equally with
the bodily powers. Certainly it was expected that the approach of
winter would compel the perilous germs to hibernate in torpor, and
would reduce the multitude of flies which now enjoyed a livelihood so
rich and unexpected upon that desert land. But in other respects the
prospect of a winter campaign was not exhilarating.
[Sidenote: SICKNESS AND MONOTONOUS FOOD]
The Indians stood the climate far better than the British or
Australians, either as vegetarians or as habituated to the sun and
protected by their colour, whereas the Australians and many of the
British sought to avoid heat by going naked, and so exposed their white
skins to the unaccustomed and baleful rays. Life in the bazaar or
jungle had also rendered Indians immune to diseases against which our
civilisation stands unprotected, and flies did not pursue the cleanly
food of Hindus and Sikhs with the same persistent avidity. If some
of the British troops upon the Peninsula had been exchanged for the
Indian troops serving in France and Flanders, both armies would have
gained in health. But perhaps a greater cause of disease than sun or
flies or infection was the monotony of the diet, as mentioned before.
Sir Ian’s appeals for canteens remained unheard till August 30, when a
canteen-ship actually appeared at Anzac. Deputed purchasers from every
unit hurried down to buy. Bursting with money, they stood in queues,
but none received more than one-sixth of what he asked, and, as in
a starving town, scarcity laughed at cash. But after the arrival of
that one shipload of variety, the numbers of sick suddenly fell, and
ultimately ten shiploads came. Allowance must also be made for the
arrival of the 2nd Australian Division, which raised the average of
health, until the infection spread among its members also; and that was
soon.
But more disheartening even than inactivity or disease was the
disappearance of the dead and wounded. During August some 40,000--about
one-third of the whole force--had gone. Entirely sufficient provision
had now been made for the wounded alike in the largely increased
number of hospital ships running to Alexandria, and in the hospital
camps established near Suvla A Beach (too near the Hill 10 batteries)
and on two positions along the Suvla promontory (also disturbed by
shells owing to the proximity of store depôts, landing-places, and
Corps Headquarters); at well-sheltered points along the Ocean Beach,
near Anzac; upon the flats at the end of Kephalos Bay, in Imbros; and
especially on the breezy rising ground overlooking Mudros harbour on
the opposite side to Mudros town. The dead either lay beyond reach,
gradually shrinking to dust on “No Man’s Land,” or were buried in
carefully tended little cemeteries, their graves marked with wooden
crosses and decorated with shell-cases or white stones arranged in
patterns. Brief as regret and lamentation must be in war, it is
melancholy to return to familiar dug-outs and find that the familiar
occupants have gone, leaving possessions which they will not need
again, and perhaps a written notice to warn off intruders from the
deserted habitation. The sense of loss was especially poignant at
Anzac, where, united by the bonds of adventure and nationality, the men
had lived as in a crowded community of fellowship.
[Sidenote: DISADVANTAGES OF NEW DRAFTS]
Drafts came, but though the drafts were small they sometimes
overwhelmed the original battalions, and, partly owing to the
unavoidable suspension of drill, they were long in imbibing a good
battalion’s spirit.[215] Even more serious was the necessity of
hurrying new drafts at once into advanced positions. In a note written
at Helles on August 30, after visiting the lines before Krithia, I
observed:
“A newly arrived draft has usually to join the rest of the battalion
in the trenches or firing line at once. The men know nothing of the
realities of war and weather. Shells and bullets affect them as
they affect every one at first, and most people to the end. The sun
strikes through them like X-rays. Dust fills their eyes and mouths.
Flies cover their food, and keep them irritated and sleepless. In
the advanced trenches, ten to one they get little beyond biscuit
and bully beef, with an occasional share in an onion or pot of jam.
Diarrhœa begins to affect them. They grow weak and their spirit
sinks. In that condition they are probably called upon to resist or
deliver an attack against a tough race of semi-barbarous soldiers
famous at trench fighting for generations.”
Interrupted by only few cool and rainy days, the heat continued
through September, and the victims to dysentery increased. The shadow
of approaching winter also lay upon the army, and its horrors were
exaggerated, partly through the classic reputation of inhospitable
Thrace, partly by the inexperience of the Anzacs, who had never seen
snow or endured cold. More serious than cold was the anticipated
downpour of rain, which would convert our roads along ravines into
torrents, and fill the dusty communication trenches with mud.
Unhappily, owing to the steep ascent to such positions as Quinn’s
Post, and the far longer climb to the Apex, where we still clung to
a scarcely tenable position overhanging the Farm below the summit of
Chunuk Bair, the chief hardships of winter were likely to fall upon
Anzac, where the men were least accustomed to resist them. In a note
during the first week of September I observed:
“If we remain through the winter, Anzac will need looking to. Cement,
solid iron plates, corrugated iron to support sandbag roofs, timber
such as the Turks already use for trenches, careful and difficult
drainage in a country where the dry watercourses which become
torrents in winter are now used as roads, spiked boots to climb the
slimy paths now deep in dust--all must be prepared. The daily toil,
already severe, will be much increased, and the fighting force can
hardly be expected to carry it out. A crowd of ordinary labourers
will be needed.”
Gangs of Egyptian labourers were, in fact, brought to Imbros and set to
work upon the main road through the camps there.
As to numbers, at the end of August we had 83,000, including 15,000
French troops, on the Peninsula, as against an estimate of 100,000
Turks there, with 25,000 in reserve. During September, a few small but
serviceable units arrived, such as the Scottish Horse (about 3000 men
unmounted) under their commandant, the Marquis of Tullibardine; the
1st and 2nd Regiments of “Lovat’s Scouts,” under Lord Lovat, between
whose force and Lord Tullibardine’s a rivalry as of old Highland
clans persists; a brigade of East and West Kent and Sussex Yeomanry
(Brigadier-General Clifton-Browne); a South-Western Mounted Brigade
of North Devons, Royal 1st Devons, and West Somersets; and the 1st
Newfoundlanders’ Battalion (Colonel Burton) attached to the 29th
Division. These units, together with drafts, brought the forces upon
the Peninsula up to about half their nominal strength at the end of
September. In the beginning of that month, two brigades of the 10th
Division’s artillery also arrived at last. The 55th was stationed at
Helles, the 56th at Suvla.[216] But even so, on September 10, there
were only 60 guns at Suvla in place of the full complement of 340.
[Sidenote: BYNG IN COMMAND OF IXTH CORPS]
None the less, in spite of inactivity, sickness, and the
discouragement of decreasing strength, the Divisions continued to
improve. The improvement was most marked in the 53rd Division (now
under Major-General Marshall), the 54th (still under Major-General
Inglefield), and the 11th (now under Major-General E. A. Fanshawe).
The 13th Division, which had done so well at Anzac under Major-General
Shaw, was sure only to increase its reputation under so fine and
ardent a commandant as Major-General Stanley Maude. Finally, there was
Major-General Sir Julian Byng, who arrived from his cavalry command
in France together with Generals Maude and Fanshawe on August 23. He
took over the command of the IXth Corps at Suvla from Major-General De
Lisle, who returned to his 29th Division, which was retained at Suvla,
except that the brigades went separately to the rest camp on Imbros.
Every one expected the order for fresh advance so soon as the new
Generals had thoroughly re-established confidence and the IXth Corps
Staff had recovered a more sanguine temper. As is usual in times of
inaction, rumours flew. The French, it was stated, were sending out
new Divisions under General Sarrail. Another landing was to be made
on the Asiatic coast, perhaps at Kum Kali, perhaps at Smyrna, more
likely at Adramyti Bay, a scheme much favoured by authorities in
Mitylene. Another very persistent rumour was for sending the fleet
up the Dardanelles again, and hope rose high in the Navy, tired and
irritated at their effective but subsidiary service to the military
force. Meantime, the actual fighting was limited to the stationary
trench warfare of bombing, casual bombardments, and local assault or
defence on either side. It gradually became evident that the fate of
the expedition depended no longer upon itself, but upon events and
speculations far removed from the scene.[217]
[Sidenote: EFFECT OF EUROPEAN EVENTS]
On the Western Front, the Allied armies were occupied through September
in preparing for the combined effort which culminated during the last
week of the month in the prolonged battles known by the names of Loos
and Champagne. As I before noticed, it was mainly for fear of weakening
this effort that British reinforcements were refused to Sir Ian, and
that the scheme of advancing on the Asiatic side of the Straits with
new French Divisions was abandoned, if ever seriously intended by the
High Command in France. The efforts so carefully prepared and gallantly
carried out succeeded in gaining valuable positions for future advance,
but were not sufficiently successful to break through the German line
or to diminish the increasing peril of Near Eastern complications.
It would be difficult to compute the exact proportion of the men and
explosives thus expended without definite result in France which might
have effected a decisive and permanent victory in the Dardanelles;
but the proportion would not have been high, and how beneficent the
issue for the world’s history! Successive disasters upon the Russian
Front continued to encourage the military parties in the Balkan
States which trusted to German victory for the furtherance of their
national aggrandisement. In August the Russian armies were driven from
Warsaw, Kovno, and Brest-Litovsk; in September from Grodno and Vilna.
Although their skilful retirement won military praise, and although the
exhausted German forces were unable to break the lines beyond their
points of advance, or even to occupy Riga, it was evident that from
Russia neither danger to her enemies nor assistance to her friends
could be expected, even though her unmilitary and vacillating Autocrat
assumed command. The encouraging effect of such events as the fall of
Warsaw upon the Turkish _moral_ was distinctly marked.
In the Balkan Peninsula, fate was supposed still to hang upon the
decision of Bulgaria--a decision secretly taken two months before
(July 17), although Ferdinand, with lachrymose solicitude, continued
to profess the neutrality of a fox between two packs of hounds. From
the first, both belligerents had rightly calculated that, in spite of
the strong national sympathy with England and Russia inherited by the
Bulgarian people, their Tsar, if not their representative Government,
could be won by the highest bidder for alliance, and each side
attempted to outbid the other with profuse offers of other people’s
territory. But when, in mid-September, England and her Allies proposed
the cession of Serbian territory at Monastir (a mainly Bulgarian
district), Doiran and Ghevgheli (mainly Turkish in race), and part of
the Dobrudja, then occupied by Roumania, they had been forestalled by
more tempting promises from Turkey and the Central Powers. To the force
of such temptation was added the animosity rankling in all Bulgarian
hearts against the neighbouring states which two years before (August
1913), by the Treaty of Bucharest, had torn from their country the
reward of her decisive victories over the Turk in 1912. Especially
against Serbia was this animosity directed, and one might have supposed
that even a slight acquaintance with the Balkan States would have
warned the Allied Governments of Serbia’s extreme and imminent peril.
Yet up to September 20 they continued to hope.
[Sidenote: ATTITUDE OF BULGARIA AND GREECE]
On that day, M. Radoslavoff announced that Bulgaria had signed a treaty
with Turkey, but would maintain an armed neutrality for the protection
of her frontiers. No one, except perhaps the British Government,
was deceived as to the real intention. On September 19 a large
German-Austrian army under Field-Marshal von Mackensen had renewed
the attack upon Serbia’s capital, and Bulgaria after mobilising her
350,000 rifles could strike at Serbia’s exposed eastern flank almost
without opposition from the exhausted Serbian army. Serbia’s one poor
chance was to attack her hereditary enemy at once, before the Germans
had crossed the rivers in the north. But from this course England
discouraged her, and, with unfounded confidence, she awaited the
assistance due from Greece according to her treaty of 1913. But Greece,
always so justly apprehensive of warlike risks, was presented with a
passable means of escape by her own warrior King, that “Bulgar-slayer”
and “Napoleon of the East,” whose titles belied his earlier reputation
as a leader of panic-stricken flight at Larissa in April 1897.
As a result of the Greek elections in June, when his supporters were
returned to power by a two-thirds majority, Venizelos had resumed the
Premiership in the middle of August. Clearly perceiving the enemy’s
intention of overwhelming the relics of the Serbian forces by armies
converging from the north and east, he imagined that Greece was bound
by honour and treaty to hasten to her ally’s protection. Greece could
nominally mobilise eighteen Divisions, but their fighting strength
was probably not over 200,000, for the most part ill-equipped,
ill-instructed, and averse from war. Of the Serbian army probably
little over 100,000 organised and disciplined troops was left after the
struggles of a year. The German-Austrian invaders were estimated at
200,000; the Bulgarians at 300,000, or perhaps not more than 250,000,
since the Roumanian frontier needed watching. Attacked on two fronts,
Serbia’s strategic position, in any case perilous, became desperate
with such inferior numbers. In his zeal for the Serbian alliance, which
he recognised as the ultimate defence of Greece herself, Venizelos
called upon the Entente to furnish 150,000 men (September 21), and two
days later induced King Constantine to mobilise.
On September 28 Sir Edward Grey spoke in the House of Commons, the most
significant part of his speech being the sentence:
“If the Bulgarian mobilisation were to result in Bulgaria assuming an
aggressive attitude on the side of our enemies, we are prepared to
give to our friends in the Balkans all the support in our power in
the manner that would be most welcome to them, in concert with our
Allies, without reserve and without qualification.”[218]
[Sidenote: BRITISH & FRENCH DIVISIONS FOR SALONIKA]
Our friends in the Balkans can only have been Serbia and Greece. The
support most welcome to them was men, but arms, money, and equipment
were welcome. To provide the men, Lord Kitchener asked Sir Ian if he
could spare two British Divisions and one French for Salonika. Sir Ian
replied by offering the 53rd (Welsh) and the 10th (Irish) Divisions.
The French offered their 2nd Division on the Peninsula (156), and
the veteran General Bailloud, anxious for fresh fields of youthful
ambition, claimed command.
The 10th Division--perhaps the pick of the New Army troops on the
Peninsula--being ordered to sail at once, embarked on September 30,
and, though passing by way of Mudros, was able to land its first
detachments at Salonika on October 5, finding two French Divisions
already there.[219] General Bailloud’s Division, leaving on October
3, began to reach the rendezvous on the same day. There the whole
force soon came under the command of General Sarrail, who arrived on
October 12, and it was shortly afterwards augmented by other French and
British Divisions, two of which were believed to have left England as
reinforcements for Sir Ian, but to have been diverted to the new scene
of action upon their way.[220]
So far as the immediate protection of Serbia was concerned, the
Allied force thus hurried over from Gallipoli--not more than 15,000
men[221]--was almost an absurdity, though its arrival caused futile
rejoicing among the Serbian people. Its only possible service was to
inspire some sort of confidence in a Greek army hastening to save the
ally of Greece from destruction. But the Greek army did not hasten. On
September 28 (the day of Sir Edward Grey’s speech) Venizelos announced
the necessity of mobilisation. On October 3 Russia issued an ultimatum
to Bulgaria warning her to break off relations with the Central Powers
and dismiss their officers from Sofia. Two days later, the Entente
withdrew their representatives, and Bulgaria entered the war as an
ally of Germany, though England did not actually declare war upon her
till October 15. But on the very day upon which Bulgaria’s intentions
were declared, an unexpected blow, which might have been expected,
fell. King Constantine informed Venizelos that he did not support the
policy of intervention. “I do not wish to assist Serbia,” he said,
“because Germany will be victorious, and I do not wish to be defeated.”
After pleading the cause of honour and probable advantage, not for
the first time in vain, Venizelos resigned, and M. Zaimis, a peaceful
banker, formed a Government based on a neutrality of “complete and
sincere benevolence” toward the Western Allies.[222]
[Sidenote: BULGARIAN INVASION OF SERBIA]
It was in vain that on October 7 England again offered to cede Cyprus
to Greece as a tempting inducement to fulfil the claims of honour.
The King could only repeat his sentiment of “complete and sincere
benevolence,” while, as for honour, he maintained a benevolent
correspondence, at least equally complete and sincere, with the Court
and General Staff in Berlin. He further soothed the conscientious
scruples of his people--a task well within the limits of his
capacity--by pointing out that the treaty with Serbia did indeed bind
them to resist an attack upon her by Bulgaria, but not an invasion
supported by other Powers. Once again the people of Greece had cause
to congratulate themselves upon possessing a monarch resolute enough
to resist the popular will, and adroit enough to interpret the code of
honour in accordance with their interests and their conscience. It was
true that the most complete and sincere benevolence, as practised by
the Greek officers and officials at Salonika, was designed to hinder
rather than assist the small and war-worn body of Allies now landing
there. So far as saving Serbia went, their landing had now become a
belated and unserviceable chivalry. But a King’s function is to further
the interests of his own people, and Greeks might fairly hope to derive
material advantage from the presence of a lavishly expensive foreign
army in their port; and they derived it.[223]
As any one with some knowledge of Macedonia, Drama, and the Bulgarian
frontier might have anticipated, the objects of the Salonika adventure
were frustrated from the outset. Serbia was not saved; Bulgaria was not
penetrated; the enemy’s communication with Sofia and Constantinople
was not threatened. Salonika certainly was rescued from Austrian or
Bulgarian occupation; the enemy was thwarted of its possible use as
a submarine base (a dubious possibility, as many naval authorities
thought); the Entente retained some hold, however small, upon the
Balkan Peninsula, and could treat their position as a fulcrum for
levering the Greek monarch from his throne. Those were the only
advantages, and one may estimate them as considerable. But upon the far
grander strategic conception of the Dardanelles, the Salonika project
fell like a headsman’s blow. Little life was left beyond the subsiding
spasms of a decapitated man. Balked of reinforcement, deprived of
half the French contingent and one among his finest new Divisions, Sir
Ian called up all his reserve of indomitable hopefulness--a General’s
finest quality--for the support of himself and the army that still
remained, however diminished. But the powers of darkness gathered
round. In front lay the Turks, soon to be supplied with more German
officers, more heavy guns, high explosives, and food. Close around him,
and at the centre in London, unexpected figures could be discerned
moving in obscurity, whispering despair, and suggesting disaster
with the malign satisfaction of prophets whose gloomy forebodings
fulfil their prognostications. It became evident that a General’s
essential supports--the confidence and zealous co-operation of his own
Government, never very enthusiastic in Sir Ian’s case--were melting
away faster even than his army.
The Turks, on their side, evidently knew that the Irish and French
Divisions were going and had gone; for the morning after the departure
of the last detachments their aeroplanes dropped messages over the
Indian encampments telling the Indians that they were being abandoned
only to have their throats cut on the Peninsula. Otherwise, except
for occasional air-raids to drop bombs upon the General Headquarters
at Imbros, the impenetrable Turks remained quiescent, perhaps already
calculating that the Peninsula would be relieved of invaders without
their stir, or perhaps merely awaiting the supply of big guns and
ammunition, soon to be so easily transmitted by way of Nish and Sofia.
Their very silence was ominous; but more ominous still, for the
moment, seemed a violent southerly gale which on the night of October
8–9 swept away the two landing-piers at Anzac, sank the valuable
water-lighters there, and drove three of the motor-“beetles” ashore at
Suvla. Happily, the Australians had recently constructed a new pier in
the bay north of Ari Burnu, sheltered from the south wind by that small
promontory. There supplies could be landed in any weather both for
Suvla and Anzac, but the storm presaged evil for the approaching winter.
[Sidenote: KITCHENER INQUIRES ABOUT EVACUATION]
Two days later (on October 11) Lord Kitchener telegraphed asking
Sir Ian for an estimate of the losses which would be involved in an
evacuation of the Peninsula. After consultation with Major-General
Braithwaite, his Chief of Staff, and other members of the Staff,
Sir Ian replied that the probable loss was estimated at 50 per
cent. No estimate could be anything but a guess. All depended upon
incalculable weather and incalculable Turks. Earlier in the campaign,
General Gouraud had estimated a loss of two Divisions out of six
in case of evacuation at Helles. In any case, Sir Ian replied on
October 12 in terms showing that such a step as evacuation was to him
unthinkable.[224] Apart from losses, evacuation would release an army
of the best Turkish troops for renewed attack in Mesopotamia or Egypt,
to say nothing of the Caucasus and Persia. The risk to our position
throughout Asia, dependent as it was upon prestige rather than power,
had in such a case also to be gravely considered.
On October 16 Lord Kitchener again telegraphed, saying that the War
Council wished to make a change in the command. As he afterwards
informed Sir Ian, “the Government desired a fresh, unbiased
opinion, from a responsible Commander, upon the question of early
evacuation.”[225] To supply this fresh, unbiased opinion they had
appointed General Sir Charles Monro, with Major-General Lynden-Bell as
his Chief of Staff. Until their arrival, General Birdwood was to assume
command on the Peninsula.
During the morning of the 17th General Brulard, who had succeeded
General Bailloud in command of the French contingent, came over to
Imbros with his Staff to say good-bye. Generals Davies and Byng, with
the Staffs of the VIIIth and IXth Corps, followed. To say good-bye to
his own Staff, Sir Ian rode to the new Headquarters at the entrance of
the main valley across the bay, whither he was himself to have removed
that very afternoon. To the army he issued the following special order
as farewell:
[Sidenote: SIR IAN LEAVES THE PENINSULA]
“On handing over the command of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force
to General Sir Charles Monro, the Commander-in-Chief wishes to say
a few farewell words to the Allied troops, with many of whom he has
now for so long been associated. First, he would like them to know
his deep sense of the honour it has been to command so fine an army
in one of the most arduous and difficult campaigns which have ever
been undertaken; secondly, he must express to them his admiration of
the noble response which they have invariably given to the calls he
has made upon them. No risk has been too desperate; no sacrifice too
great. Sir Ian Hamilton thanks all ranks, from Generals to private
soldiers, for the wonderful way they have seconded his efforts to
lead them towards that decisive victory which, under their new Chief,
he has the most implicit confidence they will achieve.”
On the _Triad_ he said good-bye to Admiral de Robeck, and to Commodore
Roger Keyes, the Admiral’s Chief of Staff. He then embarked on the
cruiser _Chatham_. As she passed down Kephalos Bay, each of the war
vessels manned ship in salute. Cape Kephalos was rounded; Suvla, Anzac,
and the Helles of the landings were seen by their Commander-in-Chief
for the last time, and the Peninsula, which had been the dramatic stage
of such high hopes, noble achievement, and bitter frustration, faded in
the distance, as the living events there enacted were already fading
into a story of the past.
_Note._--After the failure of the military operations in August,
a section of responsible naval officers, foremost among whom were
Admiral Wemyss and Sir John de Robeck’s Chief of the Staff, Commodore
Keyes, held very strongly that the fleet should renew the attempt to
force the Straits in order to relieve the army. A plan of operations
had been worked out, with the assent of Sir John de Robeck. It was
thought by these officers that, if three or four battleships and
six or eight destroyers could pass through the Straits, they would
be able, in combination with the submarines, to dominate the Sea of
Marmora, thus cutting the main Turkish lines of communication and
supply, which ran from the Asiatic side of the Peninsula. Sir John
de Robeck was not in favour of this project (_Second Dardanelles
Report_, p. 55).
Nevertheless Commodore Keyes came to London at the end of October and
strongly advocated the proposal. But it was rejected.
CHAPTER XV
THE FIFTH ACT
The departure of a Commander-in-Chief acts upon an army like sudden
heart disease in a man, or the collapse of a ship’s steering-gear. All
is at once bewilderment and uncertainty. A sense of loss and change and
failure pervades all ranks. The daily routine appears hardly worth the
trouble of accurate performance, and for enterprise no spirit is left.
This is so, even when the General stands aloof and regards his men with
small esteem, as was Wellington’s way; but the depression is increased
when the recall removes one who is by nature tempted to companionship
in action, and who, at the lowest ebb of fortune, stands always ready
with the encouraging word and the outwardly serene aspect of hope.
[Sidenote: GENERAL MONRO’S REPORT]
In General Birdwood, it is true, such another leader was found. His
adventurous and sunny spirit, always alert, free of intercourse,
and incapable of depression, made him accepted as Sir Ian’s natural
successor by all except the few whose minds were set immovably towards
despair. Yet, in spite of this well-justified confidence, the mere
fact of the change suggested speculation upon other changes, and the
pulse of action flagged, as though paralysed by uncertainty. In this
condition General Sir Charles Monro found the army when, after two
days spent in the Headquarters at Imbros, he visited the Peninsula
on October 30. He was a man of fifty-five, who before the war had
performed the services usual to an officer of that period in South
Africa, India, and at home. During the war he had won reputation in
high command on the Western Front. The Government had sent him out
with a view to obtaining the report of an unbiased opinion, and by
appointing a General from the Western Front, and a man of opposite
temperament to his predecessor’s, they had ensured themselves against
any possible bias, at all events in one direction. His orders were
to report upon the military situation; to give an opinion whether
on purely military grounds the Peninsula should be evacuated; and,
otherwise, to estimate the troops required (1) to carry the Peninsula,
(2) to keep the Straits open, and (3) to take Constantinople.[226]
Upon all these points General Monro formed a rapid and decisive
opinion. He represented the military situation as unique in history,
and in every respect unfavourable. The Force, he maintained, held
a line possessing every possible military defect. The position was
without depth, the communications insecure and dependent on weather,
the entrenchments dominated almost throughout by the enemy, the
possible artillery positions insufficient and defective, whereas the
enemy enjoyed full powers of observation, abundant artillery positions
and opportunity to supplement the natural advantages by all the devices
of engineering. For the troops, they could not be withdrawn to rest
out of the shell-swept area, because every corner of the Peninsula
was exposed; they were much enervated by the endemic diseases of
the summer; there was a grave dearth of competent officers; and the
Territorial Divisions had been augmented by makeshifts in the form of
Yeomanry and Mounted Brigades. As to military objects, the Turks could
hold the army in front with a small force; an advance could not be
regarded as a reasonable operation to expect; and any idea of capturing
Constantinople was quite out of the question. These considerations, in
General Monro’s opinion, made it urgent to divert the troops locked up
on the Peninsula to a more useful theatre, and convinced him that a
complete evacuation was the only wise course to pursue.[227]
[Sidenote: THE ADVOCATES OF EVACUATION]
About that judgment there was, at all events, no hesitating
ambiguity. Having condemned the whole expedition, root and branch,
the General was obviously not called upon to discuss such minor
details as reinforcements, or the reports of Turkish exhaustion and
demoralisation, or the exact “theatre” in which the army would be
likely to immobilise so large a Turkish force (Mr. Asquith estimated
it as 200,000),[228] and restrain them from co-operating in further
assaults upon Mesopotamia or Egypt. To be sure, there was Salonika as a
possible alternative; but Sir Charles Monro must have been aware that
Serbia was by that time past saving, and that the transference of the
Gallipoli army to Salonika would simply relieve Turkey of all anxiety
and restraint. The probable loss of prestige and of men involved in
the evacuation does not appear to have influenced his decision;
and, indeed, as the event afterwards proved, the loss in both was
vastly overestimated by the advocates of evacuation as well as by its
opponents.
The report was, naturally, grateful to such of the Generals on the
spot and such of Sir Ian’s former Staff as had already abandoned hope.
Some, indeed, were now of opinion that the evacuation should have been
ordered at midsummer or before. Still more welcome was the report
to the party in England which had always distrusted the Dardanelles
adventure, and had so largely contributed to its failure both by their
depreciation and by their encouragement to irresponsible counsellors of
despair. They kept their thoughts fixed upon the Western Front, since,
by a law of human nature, interest varies directly with proximity, and
some mental or imaginative effort is required to realise the importance
of distant undertakings. Already (on October 14, two days before Sir
Ian’s recall) Lord Milner had made the following statement in the House
of Lords:
“When I hear that it would be a terrible thing to abandon our
Dardanelles adventure because this would have so bad an effect in
Egypt, in India, upon our prestige in the East, I cannot help asking
myself whether it will not have a worse effect if we persist in that
enterprise and it ends in complete disaster.”
Lord Lansdowne, naturally, deprecated so public a suggestion; but Lord
Milner found support in Lord Ribblesdale, who urged the Government to
“get out of the unfortunate adventure.”[229] A few days afterwards
(October 18) Sir Edward Carson, the Attorney-General, resigned in
protest against the Government’s hesitation to evacuate the Peninsula
and concentrate upon Serbia’s protection, for which, however, any
efforts would then have been at least a month too late. Thus impelled,
Mr. Asquith’s Cabinet, in hopes of justifying their firm resolution to
adopt one course or the other, decided upon another preliminary step.
They commissioned Lord Kitchener to visit the Dardanelles in person and
assume the responsibility of decision.
[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER VISITS THE PENINSULA]
Lord Kitchener left England on November 5, and on reaching Mudros
consulted with Sir Charles Monro, who meantime had visited Egypt and
now returned in company with Sir H. McMahon, the High Commissioner,
and Sir John Maxwell, Commanding the Forces in Egypt. On his part,
Lord Kitchener was strongly opposed to evacuation. His military and
political instinct showed him the advantage of maintaining this “thorn
in the side” of Turkey, even if no farther advance were possible during
the winter,--an advantage illustrated too late when Kut-el-Amara fell
in the following April. Some of the most active spirits in the navy
were also continually urging a renewed attempt to force the Narrows
with the fleet now that ships were far more numerous, the position
was better understood, and the army could at least effect a strong
diversion on the Peninsula and protect the communications in case
of success. To them, as to many of the Generals ashore, it seemed
still possible to retrieve the situation and terminate the war from
the Eastern side. But on the _Aragon_ at Mudros Lord Kitchener was
surrounded by advocates of evacuation. We know with what solicitous
anxiety he always regarded any possible danger that might threaten
Egypt, and the highest representatives of our authority there were
present, always ready to urge the danger of a Turco-German invasion
from the East, and trouble with the Senussi on the West. Sir Charles
Monro was also present, and we have seen his opinion--an opinion
decisively supported by his Staff. Support also came from one or two
recently attached members of Sir Ian’s old Staff. As one among them
said, “We brought Lord Kitchener round to our way of thinking.”[230]
This congenial task, perhaps less difficult than it might have
proved ten years before, was no doubt rendered easier still by Lord
Kitchener’s hurried visits to the main points on the Peninsula. At
Helles the visit was little more than a call upon the Headquarters of
the VIIIth Corps, and a walk among the remnant of the French force at
Seddel Bahr. At Anzac (November 13), the Australians received Lord
Kitchener with an enthusiasm due to his massive personality and his
record of service. With resolute energy, outdistancing his retinue,
he strode up the steep ascent of Walker’s Ridge to Russell’s Top,
and penetrated the front trenches whence the assault upon the Nek
had started to destruction. By coincidence, it was a day of singular
calm, and not a shot or shell was fired. At Suvla, in the same way, he
climbed up Karakol Dagh to a prominent cluster of rocks whence a wide
view is obtained over the Salt Lake and the plain to the encompassing
arc of heights still held by the enemy, and to the unassailed eminence
of Koja Chemen Tepe and the fateful bastion of Chunuk Bair beyond. At
the conclusion of a Special Order issued to the Anzac Corps (now under
command of General Godley), General Birdwood wrote:
“Lord Kitchener much regretted that time did not permit of his seeing
the whole corps, but he was very pleased to see a considerable
proportion of officers and men, and to find all in such good heart
and so confidently imbued with that grand spirit which has carried
them through all their trials and many dangerous feats of arms--a
spirit which he is quite confident they will maintain until they have
taken their full share in completely overthrowing their enemies.”
The passage, though apparently confident, was guarded. Upon a sudden
and hurried visit to such scenes, even the shrewdest and most rapid
mind would be likely to exaggerate the disadvantages of the unusual
positions, without taking account of trenches and shelters rendered
impenetrable, or of supplies stored in quantity to defy the weather
on sea; and Lord Kitchener’s mind was deliberative and vasty rather
than shrewdly alert to the moment. But ultimately it was the political
situation, and especially the deflection of Bulgaria into open
hostility, together with the stealthy neutrality of King Constantine,
which compelled Lord Kitchener and even the most high-spirited of the
Peninsula Generals reluctantly to assent to the surrender of hope.
[Sidenote: BIRDWOOD COMMANDS ON PENINSULA]
While at Mudros, Lord Kitchener ordered General Monro to assume
command of all British forces in the Mediterranean east of Malta,
excluding Egypt. General Monro naturally divided these forces into
the “Salonika Army,” under command of Lieut.-General Sir Bryan
Mahon, and the “Dardanelles Army,” under command of Lieut.-General
Sir William Birdwood. Part of the original Headquarters Staff of the
Mediterranean Expeditionary Force was now transferred from Imbros to
the _Aragon_ in Mudros harbour, where Sir Charles Monro himself fixed
his headquarters. For there he could keep closely in touch with General
Altham, Inspector-General, Line of Communications, whose energy and
accurate organisation continued to confront the perpetual or increasing
difficulties caused by weather, submarines, and the absence of wharves
and piers for transferring all ordnance and engineering stores from
one ship to another. General Birdwood henceforward to the last
retained command upon the Peninsula, and to him the main credit for
the unexpected issue of the following weeks is due. He and his Staff
occupied the newly constructed headquarters at the foot of the hills
rather more than a mile from the chief landing-stage at Imbros, handing
over his command at Anzac to General Godley, as has been mentioned.
Few events varied the monotony of trench warfare. The mine-sweeper
_Hythe_ was sunk in collision on October 28 and 155 men lost, including
two military officers. The submarine E20 was sunk in the Sea of
Marmora early in November, Lieut.-Commander Clyfford and nine others
being rescued and made prisoner. On November 15 part of the 156th
Brigade (52nd Division) captured nearly 300 yards of Turkish trench
between the Vineyard and the Gully Ravine. Once or twice the Turks
attempted half-hearted attacks both at Helles and Anzac, but were
easily repulsed. For the rest, little was done, except bombing, mining,
and preparing for the winter. Wooden beams and sheets of plate iron
arrived in some quantity, and were especially needed at Anzac. The
beaches were, as far as possible, cleared. Stores which had been piled
up in the gullies were removed to higher positions. On the left, among
the Anzac foothills, Brigadier-General Monash ordered vast caverns
to be excavated as sheltered barracks for his 4th Brigade. Up at the
“Apex,” long subterranean galleries were dug clean through the crest
of Rhododendron Ridge, so as to command the deep ravines between it
and Battleship Hill. On one occasion the fumes in an exploded mine
tunnel caused several deaths. On another, an Anzac party was cut off
in a gallery exploded by a Turkish mine, but dug themselves out and
reappeared over the parapet after three days’ burial.[231]
[Sidenote: GREAT STORM OF NOVEMBER]
To the end of November the weather remained fairly fine, except for
heavy showers and occasional mists and frosts. The dust was laid, even
at Helles and Suvla; flies almost disappeared, and the prevailing
sickness was much reduced. But on November 27 and the following four
days a natural disaster as deadly as a serious engagement befell the
Peninsula. A heavy south-westerly gale brought with it a thunderstorm
accompanied with torrents of rain, which poured down upon the Ægean and
the Peninsula for nearly twenty-four hours. In half an hour the wind
rose to a hurricane, lashing the sea to tempest. At Kephalos one of
the ships forming a breakwater was sunk, and all the craft inside the
little harbour were driven ashore. At Helles and Suvla the light piers
and landing-stages were destroyed, and the shores strewn with wreck.
A destroyer was driven ashore in Suvla Bay. At Anzac the trenches
were filled with water, and streams roared down the gullies. The fate
of Suvla was more terrible. Across a long and deep ravine leading
obliquely down from the “whale-back” ridge of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, high
parapets had been constructed by Turks and British alike. Against these
parapets the water was dammed up, as in a reservoir. They gave way, as
when a reservoir’s embankment bursts, and the weight of accumulated
water swept down the ravine into the valley, and from the valley into
the Salt Lake and the shore, bearing with it stores and equipment, and
mule-carts and mules and the drowning bodies of Turks and Britons,
united in vain struggles against the overwhelming power of nature.
Along the other sections of the lines, the men stood miserably in the
trenches, soaked to the skin, and in places up to their waists in water.
Then, of a sudden, the wind swung round to the north and fell upon the
wrecked and inundated scene with icy blast. For nearly two days and
nights snow descended in whirling blizzards, and two days and nights of
bitter frost succeeded the snow. The surface of the pools and trenches
froze thick. The men’s greatcoats, being soaked through with the rain,
froze stiff upon them. Men staggered down from the lines numbed and
bemused with the intensity of cold. They could neither hear nor speak,
but stared about them like bewildered bullocks. The sentries and
outposts in the advanced trenches could not pull the triggers of their
rifles for cold. They saw the Turks standing up on their firing steps
and gazing at them over the parapets, and still they did not fire. It
was reported at the time that the General, knowing that the condition
of the enemy was probably worse than ours, desired a general attack.
But movement was hardly possible. Overcome by the common affliction,
our men also stood up and gazed back at the Turks. Few can realise the
suffering of those four days.
[Illustration: ANZAC IN SNOW]
[Sidenote: EFFECT OF THE BLIZZARD]
As though to test their power of endurance up to the very last, the
full weight of misery fell upon the 29th Division, detained at Suvla
since their final battle of August 21. Of that Division’s celebrated
battalions, the 2nd Royal Fusiliers (86th Brigade) suffered most,
their sentries standing immovable at their posts until they froze
to death, and being found afterwards watching from the parapet,
rifle in hand. The dead in the IXth Army Corps alone numbered over
200. From the Peninsula about 10,000 sick had to be removed. Many
were “frost-bitten”; many lost their limbs; some, their reason. It is
probable that the Turks suffered even worse; for prisoners said their
men had no blankets, no covering at all except their thin uniforms and
frozen greatcoats. But an enemy’s suffering is small consolation for
one’s own; nor throughout the campaign was the element of vengeful
hatred of the Turk ever one of the impelling motives among our fighting
men, whether British, Irish, Anzac, or Hindu.[232]
This disastrous storm, though none raged again with such fury, may have
hastened the approaching end; but the Cabinet’s decision was probably
taken immediately after Lord Kitchener’s visit. On November 15, Mr.
Winston Churchill, in resigning his office as Chancellor of the Duchy
of Lancaster--an office, it is true, which afforded little scope for
the activity of his restless interests--defended his conception of
the Dardanelles Expedition in the House of Commons, and expressed a
judgment which I believe will be the judgment of future time until the
campaign fades from memory:
“If,” he said, “there were any operations in the history of the world
which, having been begun, it was worth while to carry through with
the utmost vigour and fury, with a consistent flow of reinforcements,
and an utter disregard of life, it was the operations so daringly
and brilliantly begun by Sir Ian Hamilton in the immortal landing of
April 25.”
That was the natural and just lamentation over the decease of the fine
conception of whose being Mr. Churchill was the author. But now nothing
remained for it but decent burial. On November 30, having visited
Salonika and Italy, Lord Kitchener returned. On December 8, Sir Charles
Monro ordered General Birdwood to proceed with the evacuation of Suvla
and Anzac. By him the whole scheme was designed, in co-operation with
Rear-Admiral Rosslyn Wemyss, who was in command of the naval side owing
to the temporary absence of Vice-Admiral de Robeck through illness.
[Sidenote: THE PROBLEM OF EVACUATION]
To bring away an army from open beaches fully exposed to a resolute
enemy has always been recognised as one of the most difficult military
operations, involving risk of heavy loss if not disaster. On principle
it is not to be undertaken except after a defeat of the enemy’s
forces. But in this case there could be no question of defeat, and
the enemy was nowhere more than 300 yards distant from our front,
and at many points no more than 10 or 20 yards. At Anzac and Suvla
alone, rather more than 83,000 men had to be embarked, together with
nearly 5000 horses and mules, nearly 2000 carts, about 200 guns, and
at each place thirty days’ supply at an average of 4 lb. per man, to
say nothing of engineering and medical stores, and all the baggage of
Staffs and officers.[233]
The highest estimate of the probable loss was 50 per cent.; the lowest
(and this was the estimate I heard most commonly given by Staff
officers just before the event) was 15 per cent. At Mudros preparation
was made for 6000 to 10,000 wounded, and in case of such losses, many
of the wounded must have been left ashore.[234]
The force of the enemy opposite Suvla and Anzac was roughly calculated
at about 60,000, equally divided between the two positions, and
consisting of Anatolians, Syrians, and Arabs. But, including reserves,
it was thought there were 120,000 in all upon the Peninsula.[235]
[Sidenote: OUR SIMPLE RUSES]
They were engaged upon constructing new gun-positions with cement
platforms, especially behind Kavak Tepe. It was reported that a battery
of 12-inch howitzers and two or three batteries of 9-inch guns were
on their way from Germany, and the violence of the shell-explosions
upon our lines proved that superior ammunition had already arrived. For
the rest, the Turks laboured continuously at deepening or multiplying
their trenches, and up to the final evening we watched their spades
throwing the earth over their parapets. To keep them thus occupied
in improving their time, the army and navy employed many ingenious
devices. Men who had been embarked at night, or under tarpaulins by
day, were brought back again fully exposed to view, as in a stage army.
The Indian muleteers were ordered to drive their carts continuously to
and fro, making as much dust as possible. On the final days all ranks
were ordered to maintain the immemorial British custom of showing
themselves upon the sky-line and serving their country by walking where
they could best be observed. Both at Anzac and Suvla the guns also
had during the last few weeks been ordered not to fire a shot during
certain intervals, which sometimes lasted three days together. At Anzac
on one occasion, the Turks came creeping over towards our parapets,
and even entered the galleries to see if we still were there; but they
were so terribly received with rifles and bayonets that the question of
our intentions appeared to them settled. Prisoners and deserters (who
continued to come in up to the last hour) told us that, in consequence
of these simple artifices, the Turks were even expecting a renewed
attack. They also spread a persistent rumour that the Turks themselves
contemplated evacuation. This report was probably due to the deserter’s
natural exaggeration of his miseries; but since the tempest and snow
the condition of the men in the Turkish trenches had, no doubt, been
deplorable.
[Sidenote: ARRANGEMENTS FOR EMBARKATION]
At Suvla, so soon as the order to evacuate arrived, our men began
fortifying the points at each end of the bay, as positions where a last
stand could be made. The front line extended for 11,000 yards, running
from the shore of the Gulf of Xeros,[236] over the lofty “whale-back”
of Kiretch Tepe Sirt at Jephson’s Post, down the steep southern slope,
across the tree-covered and partly cultivated plain through the farms
of Anafarta Ova and Sulajik, in front of Green and Chocolate Hill, and
out into the swampy level of the Biyuk Anafarta valley, till it joined
up with the Anzac lines. Fortunately, the recent tempest had filled
the Salt Lake with water to an average depth of 4 feet; so that in the
centre of the Suvla position no further defence was required, and, on
the right, only about 1000 yards of marshy and waterlogged plain had to
be entrenched or covered by wire entanglement. The remaining positions
were defended by three lines, wired and entrenched, barbed-wire gates
ready to close being prepared at all openings of paths and roads.
The embarkation was carried out from the north and south points of
Suvla Bay. At the extreme end of the north or Suvla Point a small
harbour, capable of receiving rafts, “beetles,” and even trawlers, had
been constructed, chiefly by the skill of the 5th Anglesey Company R.E.
(Captain Glenn), who had blasted away the rock and built an oblong
of low walls to serve as wharves. Near the narrow entrance of this
small harbour a steamer was also run aground as a stage alongside of
which larger transports could lie. Guns, horses, mules, and stores
were taken off on rafts and “beetles” in the little harbour. The
battalions embarked from the sunken steamer, usually also on “beetles”
or trawlers. The 53rd Division went first. Of the old fighting 29th
Division, the 86th Brigade followed, getting away on the night of
December 14–15. There remained the 11th, 13th, and Mounted Divisions,
together with the 88th Brigade of the 29th, and it was arranged that
the 11th Division with the 88th Brigade and one brigade of the 13th
should leave from the north point, and the other two brigades of the
13th, together with the “mounted” forces and 500 Gurkhas of the Indian
Brigade from Anzac, from the south or Nibrunesi Point, where they could
embark from the C and B Beaches of the original landing, under cover of
Lala Baba and the cliffs. A new pier had also been constructed near the
point on the inside of Suvla Bay, fairly sheltered, though exposed to
observation and shell-fire from “The Pimple” and that part of Kiretch
Tepe Sirt. In fact, on the very last day (December 19), while I was
at General Maude’s 13th Division Headquarters overlooking the pier
from the cliff, a 5·7-inch shell tore a large gap in the middle of it;
but it was rapidly repaired by the Engineers. A similar pier had been
constructed on the far or Xeros side of Suvla Point, below the cliff
on which General Byng had now fixed the IXth Army Corps Headquarters.
This was entirely sheltered and unobserved, but was only to be used
for the withdrawal of the very last detachment. The naval part of the
embarkation at Suvla Point was under the direction of Captain Unwin,
who organised and conducted it with the same enthusiastic, not to say
explosive, energy which he had displayed during the landing on V Beach
from the _River Clyde_.
Night after night, and all night long, the anxious labour was resumed.
Guns--the “heavies,” the howitzers, and the field-guns--were drawn
down to the harbour, and pushed or pulled with ropes upon the rafts.
Mules and horses were brought down, but gradually, lest the enemy
should notice the emptiness of the horse-lines along the point.[237]
Stores were brought down, all that might have been needed only for
summer or for a long campaign coming first. Then came the men, brigade
by brigade, battalion by battalion, mustering at definite points
about half a mile from the harbour, and in turn filing down to the
transports. There was no confusion, no visible excitement. Silently the
men took their places, and moved to quiet orders. Each carried full kit
with pick and shovel or periscope.
[Sidenote: RISKS DURING THE FINAL NIGHTS]
As each night of the final week passed and the defences became weaker,
the anxiety increased, though none was shown or mentioned. Apart from
a general attack, danger lay in three points--the wind, the moon, and
shelling by night. A south-west gale, or even a strong breeze arising
in the last two days, would have stopped embarkation and left us almost
defenceless. The moon was waxing, but a thin mist veiled it almost
every night, and the half-obscured radiance helped to guide our men
down the paths, and did not betray the meaning of the thin black lines
which were just visible upon the twilit sea as trawlers, “beetles,”
and rafts slid away. The Turks had the beaches exactly registered. At
any hour of the night a dozen of their heavy shells would have reduced
the little harbour to a bloody mash of animals and men. On the morning
of December 16 they threw six 4·7-inch shells of improved bursting
quality right into the middle of the embarkation beach, but it was
almost empty then, and only one man was hurt. In the afternoon of the
17th they shelled A West Beach heavily for an hour. Such events showed
their power for our destruction, but the nights remained undisturbed,
except by our own ceaseless toil. An immense blaze of stores, lighted
accidentally at Anzac before dawn on December 18, increased the peril
of discovery, but the Turks remained indifferent to portents.
[Illustration: SCENE ON SUVLA POINT, TWENTY-FOUR HOURS BEFORE THE
DEPARTURE]
[Sidenote: THE FINAL NIGHT AT SUVLA]
The last day came. It was Sunday, December 19. Little by little the
forces at Suvla had been reduced to 12,000 men and 16 guns, whereas,
to hold a front line the length of ours, 33,000 men would be required
by regulation. The day was passed as usual, each man doing his utmost
to give a crowded appearance to the scene. At sunset, the guns fired
their parting salute and were withdrawn--the last at 9.30. The men
were then brought away--rather more than 6000 to Suvla Point, rather
less to Nibrunesi. A small party was left to keep up rifle-fire in the
front trenches. Larger parties were left to hold the second and third
lines. The rest embarked. Shortly before midnight the front line came
in, leaving lighted candles which at irregular intervals burnt a string
to discharge a rifle, so that a desultory fusillade was maintained
for about an hour. The second and third lines followed in turn, only
sappers remaining behind to close up the barbed-wire gates, to cut
the telephone wires, and to set trip- and contact-mines at points of
likely resort. A party of 200 (I think, 9th West Yorks) were to hold
the fourth line to the last, and sacrifice themselves if the Turks
attacked.
Intermittent outbursts of firing came from the Turks, and we could hear
the rumbling explosions as they toiled at blasting new trenches--an
interesting example of labour lost. Once an aeroplane whirred overhead,
invisible until she dropped one green star, which blazed for a few
seconds just below Saturn and showed her to be ours. On the earth a
few fires burned where camps were once inhabited, but gradually they
faded out. Two lights glimmered from deserted hospital tents along the
curving shore; for our doctors had remained to the last in readiness
for the deaths and wounds of disaster. But now even they had gone,
leaving notes to thank the Turks for their consideration towards the
Red Cross. Otherwise, only the sea and the moon showed light, and over
the white surface of the water those thin black lines kept moving away.
From the little harbour arose the varied noise of screaming mules,
rattling anchor chains, shouting megaphones, engines throbbing and
steamers hooting low. Still the Turks gave no sign of hearing, though
they lay almost visible in the moonlight across that familiar scene.
At last the final lines of defenders began silently to steal down
the paths of Karakol Dagh, leaving four A.S.C. officers under Col.
Hodsoll to fire vast piles of abandoned stores--biscuits, bully-beef,
and bacon. Officers of the beach party, which had accomplished such
excellent and sleepless work, collected. At 4.30 a.m. of the 20th the
defenders of the fourth line--about 200 in all--embarked from the
concealed pier on the Gulf of Xeros side of the cliffs. And at the same
time, General Byng, motioning Brigadier-General Reed, his Chief of
Staff, to pass in front of him, left Suvla Point, being the last to
leave.
From Nibrunesi Point, under the direction of General Maude, the
evacuation was accomplished in the same manner and with the same
success. The whole movement involved the loss of only two men,
and those by accident. Hospital tents remained standing, and some
provisions were burnt. Not a man or gun or cart or horse was left
behind.
Those of us who had reached the _Cornwallis_ in Captain Unwin’s pinnace
at four in the morning, were roused at six by bugles sounding to action
quarters. Dawn was just breaking, as on the day when we landed upon
that shore four and a half months earlier. But it was still dark except
for the glare of flames consuming the piles of stores on Suvla Point
and Lala Baba, and the lesser flames of a wrecked hospital lighter
ashore by the “cut” in the sandy spit. By seven it was almost daylight,
and the Turks began pouring shells into the fires to deter us from
putting them out. With the increasing light, they turned all their guns
on to the empty beaches, trenches, and especially the positions on Hill
10, where a battery had stood. Meantime our picket-boats had searched
the shores, but found no stragglers, not even an army medical, left
behind. The Turkish guns were then directed against the battleships,
but they fired wildly and without effect. The _Cornwallis_ answered,
her big guns throwing shells upon the slope of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, her
lesser armament destroying the breakwaters, piers, and little harbour,
so industriously constructed. At nine o’clock she turned and left the
long-familiar scene, passing westward towards the mountains of Imbros
over a tranquil and sunlit sea. The evacuation had been hurried forward
by a day, and fortunate indeed was that anticipation. By nine o’clock
next morning a south-west gale was raging, rain fell in deluge, and the
sea roared upon the coast. What if the movement had been delayed for
those few hours more?
[Sidenote: THE EVACUATION OF ANZAC]
At Anzac the withdrawal was carried out with equal daring and skill.
The problem was slightly different, for the position extended in an
irregular fan-shape, the centre being very short (only about 500 yards
in direct line from the Nek to the Cove) but stretching northward on
the left for rather over 3 miles to Hill 60 and the Biyuk Anafarta
plain; and southward on the right for about 1½ miles to Chatham Post.
The flanks had therefore to be brought in first, and no interior
defences were made except a strong redoubt as a kind of “keep” within
the Cove itself. It is probable that the withdrawal of the left
flank, where the ground is comparatively open, could not have escaped
observation but for the supposed presence of a large force at Suvla,
and, in that sense, Suvla may be said to have been the salvation of
Anzac. The embarkation was carried out partly from the new pier on
Ocean Beach north of Ari Burnu, partly from the repaired piers in the
Cove.
Of the 40,000 at Anzac, about 20,000 had been gradually taken off to
Mudros by December 18. That night over 10,000 more were sent away.
All but nine worn-out guns had gone, two being left close up to the
firing line, where they had been stationed from the first. Aeroplanes
kept watch all day, five being at times up together--a large number
for Gallipoli--and no hostile plane was allowed to approach. On
the morning of Sunday, 19th, the few guns kept up a brave show of
bombardment, the Turks answering with their increased number of
guns, no less than seventeen of which were now posted in the Olive
Grove, commanding the main beach of embarkation. As at Suvla, the few
remaining men (about 10,000 in all) were directed to show themselves
freely, and many spent the morning in tending for the last time the
graves of the 8000 comrades who there lay buried.
The 6000 stationed in the afternoon to guard the outer lines were
divided into three groups--A, B, and C--of 2000 each, and there arose
a violent competition to belong to the C group, known as “Die-hards,”
because they were to be the last to leave. Group A came from the
northern positions and included parties of the 1st and 3rd Light Horse
Brigades, the 4th Australian Brigade, and the New Zealand Mounted
Rifles with the Maoris (from Hill 60). They marched in absolute
silence, magazines empty, no smoking allowed, footsteps deadened by
sacking spread over the hard patches of ground and over the planks. By
ten o’clock they had all embarked from Ocean Beach. At midnight Group
B gathered in the Cove. Among them were New Zealand Infantry from the
heights of Sari Bair, 20th Infantry from the Nek, 17th Infantry from
Quinn’s, 23rd and 24th from Lone Pine, 6th Light Horse from Chatham’s
Post far on the right. Thus the veteran 1st Australian Division of the
Landing was now mingled with the 2nd Division, sent to uphold them and
give them some opportunity for relief. Descending the diverse gullies
from the fan-like extremities, each position bearing so fine a record
during the eight months of struggle and endurance, they concentrated
punctually and without confusion. The Navy held the transports ready,
and they went.
[Sidenote: ANZAC ABANDONED]
Only 2000 men now remained to guard the long and devious lines from
Chatham’s Post to the Apex and the Farm. About 1.30 a.m. of Monday the
20th, a bomb thrown from the “Apex” marked the abandonment of that
hard-won and hard-held position. Thence New Zealanders came down: from
Courtney’s and Pope’s, 18th and 19th Infantry; from Ouinn’s, the 17th.
By 3 a.m. only 800 “Die-hards” were left in groups at points where the
Turkish lines came within a few yards’ distance. By 3.30, Lone Pine,
Quinn’s, and Pope’s were finally abandoned, and Anzacs rushed down
White’s Valley and Shrapnel Gully for the last time. As they reached
the Cove, a violent explosion, which seemed to shake even the ships at
Suvla, thundered from the heights. Three and a half tons of amenol,
laid by the 5th Company Australian Engineers, had blown a great chasm
across the Nek, and that ready entrance to the deserted lines was
blocked as by a moat and rampart. Rifles continued to fire from the old
positions--fired by sand running from buckets. The Turks burst into one
of their panic rages of fire against the empty trenches, from which
they now expected a general assault. The naval guns pounded the hills.
The last of the transports departed, and Anzac shore was nothing but a
lasting name.
A few stragglers were taken off by picket-boats in the early morning.
A few guns--four 18-pounders, two 5-inch howitzers, one 4·7 naval gun
(said to have been in Ladysmith, and, in that case, called the “Lady
Anne” or the “Bloody Mary”), one anti-aircraft, and two 3-pounder
Hotchkiss guns had to be left, but were disabled. Some carts without
wheels, and fifty-six mules were also left, and some stores burnt.
The execution of the whole movement conferred just honour upon
Major-General Sir Alexander Godley and Brigadier-General Cyril B. B.
White, his Chief of Staff, not to mention other names well worthy of
mention, and now regretfully to be parted with.[238]
Even after the evacuation of Suvla and Anzac, many hoped that Helles
at least would be retained as a perpetual threat to the heart of the
Turkish Empire. But being by this time deeply entangled at Salonika,
where the French and English forces had lately been driven back from
the edges of Serbia across the Greek frontier, the Cabinet resolved to
wipe out the Dardanelles Expedition, as a gambler “cuts his losses,”
and leave no trace or profit of all the army’s incomparable deeds.
Certainly, it would have been difficult to remain at Helles now that
heavy guns were being brought down from Suvla and Anzac; superior
German shells had arrived, and German guns were on the way. Throughout
the end of December the bombardment was at times very violent, reaching
extreme intensity about 1 p.m. on December 24, when the right and
centre of our line, from the front trenches to the sea, suffered the
severest shelling experienced at Helles.[239] With the help of the
Navy, and by the construction of deeper trenches and solid shelter, it
might have been possible to hold the position as a kind of Gibraltar
guarding the Straits. But Imbros and Tenedos, for a naval Power, served
that purpose with less risk, and since the glorious hope of advancing
upon Constantinople was definitely abandoned, it was argued best to
quit Helles and the whole Peninsula.
[Sidenote: EVACUATION OF HELLES ORDERED]
On Christmas Eve, General Birdwood was directed to prepare a scheme;
four days later to complete the evacuation as quickly as possible.[240]
The problem was to bring away unnoticed rather more than 35,000 men,
about 4000 animals, about 110 guns, and over 1000 tons of stores. Most
of the remaining French Division had been gradually withdrawn during
December, and the 4000 left at the end of the year were embarked on
French warships during the night of January 1–2. By consent of General
Brulard, however, the French guns were left under command of General
Davies with the VIIIth Corps. The French lines were taken over by the
Royal Naval Division--that military maid-of-all-work. Some have said
that the soldier-sailors were dressed in French grey to deceive such of
the enemy as could not hear or understand their language; but this was
untrue.
The 42nd (East Lancashire) Division, which had throughout done
such steady and persistent work under Major-General Douglas, was
withdrawn for a much-needed rest,[241] and the 13th (Major-General
Stanley Maude), having been at Imbros since the Suvla evacuation, was
transferred to Helles. The redoubtable 29th Division was also sent
back to the scene of its early triumphs. The troops to go at the last
belonged, therefore, to the 13th, 29th, 52nd, and Royal Naval Divisions.
[Sidenote: LAST FIGHTING ON THE PENINSULA]
During the days of preparation, little happened to break the appearance
of routine. Almost the last assault from our side had been made on
December 19, when, simply to distract attention from the evacuation in
the north, parts of the 42nd and 52nd Divisions attacked beside the
Krithia Nullah, and the 5th Highland Light Infantry (157th Brigade)
especially distinguished themselves. Sir Charles Monro also mentions a
successful attack by the 52nd Division on December 29. But, for the
most part, on our side we beguiled the Turk by periods of complete
silence, especially between 8 p.m. and 2 a.m., so as to habituate
him to inattentive repose. For the last days, one British 6-inch gun
and six old-fashioned French “heavies” alone were retained, to give
a semblance of active hostility. On January 7, however, the very day
before our departure, the enemy, possessed by one of his unaccountable
moods, directed a terrible bombardment against the 13th Division on
our left from Achi Baba, and a slighter fire against the R.N.D. on
our right from Asia. It lasted all afternoon, and at 3.30 the Turks
attempted an attack near Fusilier Bluff, between Gully Ravine and the
sea. Officers were seen urging the men forward as in earlier days; but
the men had no longer the spirit of earlier days, and since they were
disinclined to move, the attack faded away. Fortunately, our want of
artillery was compensated by a naval squadron off the west coast. None
the less, we lost a hundred and six wounded and fifty-eight killed--the
last to lay their bones upon the earth of that dedicated Peninsula. The
7th North Staffords were chiefly engaged.
Next morning (January 8) rose fair, with a light southerly breeze.
The Turks kept unusually quiet, and it was resolved to accomplish the
evacuation as arranged. Major-General Lawrence (C.O. 52nd Division) had
been put in charge of the embarkation on the military side. Positions
on all the beaches were fortified as redoubts for a small garrison to
hold to the last. On Gully Beach, Major-General Maude selected the
position and prepared the evacuation of his 13th Division. Specially
selected officers superintended the W and V Beaches. The naval
arrangements were carried out by Captain C. M. Staveley, R.N., assisted
by naval officers at each point of embarkation. In addition to the
three strongly wired lines of defence across the Peninsula, a fourth
had been constructed from Gully Beach to De Tott’s Battery. Troops on
the left naturally withdrew from Gully Beach or W (four piers); on the
right from V Beach (three piers and the _River Clyde_).
[Sidenote: THE EVACUATION OF HELLES]
On the afternoon of the final day the Divisions had only four
battalions apiece remaining upon the Peninsula. They came away in three
groups or trips, the first withdrawing soon after 7 p.m. and getting
off in destroyers and “beetles” without difficulty. But at sunset the
breeze freshened, and it began to blow hard from the south-west, the
quarter to which W Beach was most exposed. The connecting platform
between the shore and the hulks which served as wharves there was
washed away by heavy seas. Still, the second group, and even guns, were
safely taken off about midnight. On V Beach, while the second group
was waiting at eleven o’clock, the Asiatic guns began to bombard, but
fortunately all but two shells fell short into the sea, and only one
man was wounded. Hardly, however, had fifty of the R.N.D. put off to
the _Prince George_ in a “beetle” at 11.30 and got under way for Mudros
with 1500 others, when they felt the dull thud of a torpedo against the
vessel’s side. The torpedo did not explode, but the presence of the
submarine, known to the navy all the evening, added to the anxiety of
the final hours. Starting from Gully Beach, a lighter also went aground
after all had left, and the 160 men had to be landed again and marched
over to W Beach for embarkation.
At 11.30 the final party or rearguard--about sixty men from each
Division--withdrew from the front lines. With bombs and rifle-fire
they had kept up as much noise as they could to conceal the movement
of the rest. Now, leaving lights and devices by which dropping water
filled tins and discharged rifles when the tins were full, they crept
away under cover of officers’ patrols, who maintained a desultory fire,
barred the gates, and connected the mines. About 2.30 all arrived at
the beaches, to find a heavy surf dashing upon the shore. Nevertheless,
though under great stress and peril, by 3.30 the beaches were cleared.
The Military Transport Officer, coming off the _River Clyde_, was the
last man to leave. Time fuses lighted the heaps of abandoned stores,
and exploded masses of ammunition. In all, fourteen of our well-worn
old 15-pounders, a 6-inch gun, and the six old French “heavies” were
abandoned and destroyed. Far worse was the fate of 508 horses and
mules, most of which were killed. All animals and stores might have
been embarked, had it been safe to wait. But the rising storm of that
night was a warning, and, as at Suvla, only by the barest luck in
weather was disaster avoided. The Turks began shelling the beaches
at the first sight of the fires, and continued that unprofitable
expenditure till 6.30 a.m. of January 9. At Helles, as at Suvla and
Anzac, those incalculable Orientals remained ignorant of our departure,
though here expecting it. No doubt they were glad at our going;
naturally, they were glad. And so, by the evacuation, our authorities,
whether political or military, were acting contrary to Napoleon’s maxim
of war: “Never do what you know your enemy wants you to do.”
So the episode of the Dardanelles Expedition, equal in splendour of
conception, heroism, and tragedy, came to an end. During the eight and
a half months of its continuance upon the Peninsula itself, the land
forces, including the Royal Naval Division, but not counting the Navy
or the French (whose losses are not published), suffered the following
loss:
+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+
| Killed. | Wounded.| Missing.| Total. |
+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+
|Officers 1,745 | 3,143 | 353 | 5,241 |
|Other ranks 26,455 | 74,952 | 10,901 | 112,308 |
| ------ | ------ | ------ | ------- |
| Totals 28,200 | 78,095 | 11,254 | 117,549 |
+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+
A large proportion of the missing must be counted as killed. The number
of sick admitted to hospital between April 25 and December 11, 1915,
was 96,683, of whom also a considerable proportion died. If we may take
about one-quarter of the missing as killed, and about one-twentieth
of the sick as having died, the total of lives lost amounts to about
36,000. The total losses of the Turks have been variously estimated
between 400,000 and 500,000, but those estimates are conjectural.
[Sidenote: MILITARY CAUSES OF THE FAILURE]
The causes of our failure have been, as I hope, reasonably signified
in the preceding account of the campaign. They may be summarised in
relation either to the movements on the spot, or to the attitude of the
home Government. On the spot, we failed chiefly owing to the premature
naval attacks, which gave the enemy warning of our intention, and owing
to the design of forcing the Straits with the Navy alone, which might
indeed have been temporarily successful if persisted in, but in the end
would have given us only a dubious advantage; for a fleet penetrating
to the Sea of Marmora would have remained dangerously isolated so
long as both sides of the Straits were strongly held by the enemy.
The second initial error was the delay in concentrating the military
forces for the land attack--a delay chiefly due to the retention of
the 29th Division in England, and to the necessity of returning the
transports from Mudros to Alexandria for the rearrangement of the
military stores and munitions. As to the actual operations on land, it
might be argued, in the light of wisdom after the event, that the first
landing had better have been made by a combined force at Suvla Bay
and on the Ocean Beach at Anzac, though, in that case, larger numbers
than those allotted to the Expedition at the beginning must have been
demanded. Again, with regard to the failure of the August operations,
it might now be maintained that the forces at Anzac were dissipated
by the assaults at Lone Pine and the Nek, and by the over-elaborate
subdivision of the attacking forces upon our left. Even in spite of
the natural intricacy of the ground, a concentration of all available
troops into one main body (or at most into two) for a grand assault
upon the Sari Bair range from Chunuk Bair to Koja Chemen Tepe might
have given better results. As to the “inertia” which prevailed at
Suvla on the critical day of August 8, and the confusion, delay, and
fatal mistakes of the preceding and following days, thus precluding
the support to the Anzac movement upon which the Commander-in-Chief
had fairly calculated, no more need be said. Owing partly to the
temperament of Generals, partly to the inexperience of their Staffs,
and perhaps chiefly to the want of confidence between the poorly
trained troops and their senior officers, the instrument to which he
trusted broke in his hand.
[Sidenote: POLITICAL CAUSE OF THE FAILURE]
The ultimate burden of failure, however, lies on the authorities at
home. The Allies were presented with the most brilliant and promising
strategical conception of the war up to the present time (spring,
1918). Success would have given them advantages already repeatedly
enumerated: a passage would have been opened for the supply of grain
from Russia, and a supply of munitions to that country; the enemy’s
hope of advancing either towards Egypt or the Persian Gulf would have
been frustrated; the Balkan States would, at worst, have remained
neutral, or, calculating on future favours, would have joined our
Alliance in hurried gratitude; Venizelos would have remained in power,
and King Constantine’s military and domestic predilections have been
suppressed; the belated attempt to rescue Serbia after her destruction
was assured would not have been required; Tsar Ferdinand would have
scented his own advantage on the side of Bulgaria’s natural sympathies;
Roumania, relieved from apprehension on her southern frontier, could
have watched the Transylvanian passes or crossed them at pleasure;
Russia might possibly have retained her front lines intact, and, at
the worst, would have immobilised large armies of the enemy. The
Central Powers would then indeed have been surrounded with an “iron
ring,” and peace secured in the spring of 1916. The main disadvantages
of such a peace to the world would have been the probable occupation
of Constantinople by Russia, the fortification of the Straits in her
interest, and the continuance in power of the autocratic Tsardom,
surrounded by its attendant supporters in bureaucrats, secret police,
provocative agents, censors of public opinion, and all the other
instruments of political and religious tyranny.
At that time the future of Russia could not be foretold, any more than
it can be foretold now. But the advantages here recapitulated should
have been too obvious even for insular statesmen to overlook. Mr.
Winston Churchill was justified in the protest already quoted, that “if
there were any operations in the history of the world which, having
been begun, it was worth while to carry through with the utmost vigour
and fury,” it was those. Far from displaying vigour, let alone fury,
the Government appears to have regarded the Expedition rather as an
overburdened father regards an illegitimate child put out to nurse in
a distant village. It was a “by-blow,” a “side-show,” something apart
from the normal and recognised order of things. A certain allowance
had, unfortunately, to be apportioned for it, but if the person who
superintended its welfare clamoured for more, that person must be kept
in the proper place, or palmed off with gifts that were no gifts.
Every breath of suspicion or detraction must be listened to, every
chance of abandonment welcomed, and the news of a peaceful ending
accepted with a sigh of relief.
[Sidenote: THE END]
For myself, in coming to the conclusion of this account--faithful as
far as I could make it, but so inadequate to the tragic splendour of
the theme--I feel again a mingled admiration and poignant sorrow, as
when for the last time I watched the scene from the battered deck
of the _River Clyde_ and, under the dying brilliance of sunset,
looked across the purple current of the Dardanelles to those deserted
plains which long ago also rang with tragic battle. The time is fast
approaching when the deserted Peninsula of Gallipoli looking across
to Troy will be haunted by kindred memories. There the many men so
beautiful had their habitation. There they knew the finest human
joy--the joy of active companionship in a cause which they accounted
noble. There they faced the utmost suffering of hardship and pain, the
utmost terrors of death, and there they endured separation from those
whom they most loved. The crowded caverns in which they made their
dwelling-place are already falling in, except where some shepherd uses
a Headquarters as more weatherproof than his hut, or as a sheltered
pen for sheep. The trenches which they dug and held to the death have
crumbled into furrows, covered with grass and flowers, or with crops
more fertile for so deep a ploughing. The graves are obliterated, and
the scattered bones that cost so much in the breeding have returned
to earth. But in our history the Peninsula of the Dardanelles, the
Straits, the surrounding seas, and the islands set among them will
always remain as memorials recording, it is true, the disastrous
and tragic disabilities of our race, but, on the other hand, its
versatility, its fortitude, and its happy though silent welcome to any
free sacrifice involving great issues for mankind.
[Illustration: THE PENINSULA, THE STRAITS, AND CONSTANTINOPLE]
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING BRITISH & FRENCH TRENCHES.
GALLIPOLI PENINSULA.
_SOUTHERN ZONE. 7TH. JULY 1915_]
[Illustration: POSITIONS AT ANZAC (END OF AUGUST)]
[Illustration: POSITIONS AT SUVLA (END OF AUGUST)]
FOOTNOTES
[1] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 46.
[2] Speech in Foreign Office Debate, July 10, 1914. The whole question
of Germany’s relations to Turkey is discussed with his usual knowledge
by Mr. H. N. Brailsford in _A League of Nations_, chap. v.
[3] Sir Edward Grey, in the House of Commons, October 14, 1915; Foreign
Office Statement, November 1, 1914. On the authority of the Kaiser,
in conversation with M. Theotokis, Greek Minister in Berlin, it now
appears that Germany had already concluded an alliance with Turkey on
August 4, 1914. (See Greek White Book, published August 24, 1917.)
[4] See _Turkey, Greece, and the Great Powers_, by G. F. Abbott
(1917), pp. 167–200.
[5] Changing their religion with their sky, the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_
became the _Jawuz Sultan Selim_ and the _Midilli_ in the Turkish Navy.
See _Two War Years in Constantinople_, by Dr. Harry Stürmer, p. 113.
In an action at the entrance to the Dardanelles, January 20, 1918, the
_Breslau_ was sunk, and the _Goeben_ had to be beached at Nagara Point.
We lost the monitor _Lord Raglan_.
[6] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 45 (omitted in first
publication, but inserted shortly afterwards).
[7] The subject was fully discussed with the present writer by M.
Skouloudis, at that time Premier in Athens (November 9, 1915). That
veteran statesman was apparently honest in his belief both in the
King’s military genius and in the King’s good faith towards the
Allies--a belief unfounded in both cases.
[8] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 47, 48.
[9] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 50–52.
[10] Speech in the House of Commons upon the Dardanelles Commission’s
First Report, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1743).
[11] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 9.
[12] Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1746).
[13] _Ibid._
[14] Mr. Asquith, Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917. Cf.
Sir James Wolfe Murray: “Lord Kitchener acted very much as his own
Chief of the Staff.” Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 18.
[15] “I suppose that upon no man in our history has a heavier burden
fallen than fell upon him, and nothing in connection with this
Report--it may be no imputation upon anybody connected with the
Report itself--has filled me with more indignation and disgust than
that the publication of the criticisms made in it of Lord Kitchener’s
conduct and capacity should have been taken advantage of by those who
only two years ago were in a posture of almost slavish adulation to
belittle his character, and, so far as they can, to defile his memory.
Lord Kitchener’s memory is in no danger. It lives, and will live, in
the gratitude and admiration of the British people and of the whole
Empire.”--Mr. Asquith, Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917
(Hansard, 1748).
[16] See his speech in the House of Commons on Woman Suffrage, March
28, 1917.
[17] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 16.
[18] Speech at Dundee, June 5, 1915.
[19] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 53.
[20] _Ibid._, pars. 54, 55.
[21] This War Staff Group took the place of the Board of Admiralty in
strategical matters, the Second, Third, and Fourth Sea Lords being
thus released for their special functions of manning, shipbuilding,
and transport. Its other members were the First Lord, the Chief of
the Staff (Sir Henry Oliver), the Secretary of the Board (Sir Graham
Greene), and the Naval Secretary (Commodore de Bartolomé).--See “The
Dardanelles Report,” by Mr. Archibald Hurd (_Fortnightly Review_,
April 1917), where the whole subject is discussed with the writer’s
well-known knowledge of naval affairs.
[22] Ἐχθίστη δὲ ὀδύνη ἐστὶ τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώποισι αὕτη, πολλὰ φρονέοντα
μηδενὸς κρατέειν.--Herodotus, ix. 16.
[23] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 19, 87; minutes 1
and 2.
[24] _Ibid._, par. 20.
[25] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 26.
[26] _Ibid._, par. 22.
[27] Speech of March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1744).
[28] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 16.
[29] _Ibid._, Majority Report, par. 68.
[30] _Ibid._, Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 11. The reference is to the
brief bombardment of November 3.
[31] _Ibid._, pars. 7–12.
[32] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 56.
[33] _Ibid._, Majority Report, par. 57; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par.
14. Admiral Jackson’s view as to the unenviable position of a fleet
bottled up off Constantinople without commanding the line of retreat
was probably influenced by the record of Admiral Duckworth’s risk when
in a similar position (1807), and Admiral Hornby’s hesitation about
entering the Straits in 1877.--See Nelson’s _History of the War_,
by John Buchan, vol. vi. pp. 130–36.
[34] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 43.
[35] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1780).
[36] Dardanelles Commission; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 16.
[37] _Ibid._, par. 20; Majority Report, pars. 60–62.
[38] Lord Fisher had himself suggested the use of the _Queen
Elizabeth_ to Admiral Oliver the day before. Mr. Roch’s Minute, par.
17.
[39] Majority Report, par. 69. Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 18.
[40] Majority Report, par. 94.
[41] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 68.
[42] _Ibid._, par. 83.
[43] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 22.
[44] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 88.
[45] M. Augagneur, Minister of Marine, had visited London after the
decision of January 13. He approved the subsequent plan, pronouncing it
“prudent et prévoyant.” Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 29.
[46] Majority Report, pars. 86, 87; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 25, 26.
[47] Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 11 and 22.
[48] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1783, 1784).
[49] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 28.
[50] Majority Report, pars. 89–93; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 28, 29.
[51] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 92.
[52] Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917.
[53] Mr. Archibald Hurd (“The Dardanelles Report,” _Fortnightly
Review_, April 1917, pp. 587, 591) considers that a military force
“was apparently a part of the original scheme.” But the whole evidence
of the Report and of Mr. Churchill’s speech of March 20, 1917, appears
to be against him.
[54] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1789). Cf.
Majority Report, par. 94, and Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 29, 32.
[55] Majority Report, par. 95.
[56] Majority Report, par. 96; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 32, 33.
[57] Mr. Asquith in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard,
1752).
[58] Majority Report, pars. 100–103; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 38.
[59]
“Nor was his name unheard or unadored
In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land
Men call’d him Mulciber; and how he fell
From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove
Sheer o’er the crystal battlements: from morn
To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,
A summer’s day; and with the setting sun
Dropt from the zenith like a falling star,
On Lemnos, the Ægean isle.”
_Paradise Lost_, Book I.
[60] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, by William Harold Price,
sometime Chaplain of the _Triumph_.
[61] _“Manchester Guardian” History of the War._
[62] _The Immortal Gamble_, by A. T. Stewart and C. J. E. Peshall
of the _Cornwallis_, p. 10.
[63] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 97.
[64] _Ibid._, pars. 78–82.
[65] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, pp. 38–40.
[66] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 97.
[67] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, p. 66; the
_Triumph_ was one of ships detailed for this operation.
[68] Dardanelles Commission; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 43.
[69] It appears to have been on this occasion that the King, yielding
to the representations of M. Venizelos in favour of actively sharing
in the Dardanelles enterprise, exclaimed, “So be it then, for the love
of God!” See M. Venizelos’ speech to the Chamber in Athens, August 26,
1917 (_The Times_, August 31).
[70] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 43; Mr. Churchill’s speech on March 20,
1917 (Hansard, 1793). Unhappily, M. Venizelos resigned on March 6,
1915, owing to Constantine’s renewed opposition to a combination with
the Allies.
[71] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 109.
[72] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 111.
[73] In _What of the Dardanelles?_ Mr. Martin Fortescue, an
American correspondent, gives a brief but interesting criticism of this
unfortunate action from the Turkish-German point of view (pp. 27–47).
As seen from the _Cornwallis_ the action is described in _The
Immortal Gamble_, pp. 45–53.
[74] The total British casualties during the whole naval enterprise
were 350; on March 18 they were 61.
[75] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 119. Speaking of this
naval attack, Dr. Stürmer writes: “To their great astonishment the
gallant defenders of the coast forts found that the attack had suddenly
ceased. Dozens of the German naval gunners who were manning the
batteries of Chanak on that memorable day told me later that they had
quite made up their minds the fleet would ultimately win, and that they
themselves could not have held out much longer.”--_Two War Years in
Constantinople_, p. 84.
[76] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 115, 119.
[77] _With the Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, by Chaplain D.
Creighton, p. 23.
[78] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 107, 108.
[79] See Sir Ian Hamilton’s first dispatch.
[80] The formation and subsequent exploits of this peculiar body are
described by Colonel Patterson himself in _With the Zionists in
Gallipoli_.
[81] For the history of the Australians in Egypt and Gallipoli,
see _Australia in Arms_, by Phillip Schuler, the fine young
correspondent of _The Age_, Melbourne. To the deep regret of all
who knew him, he was afterwards killed by a chance shell while teaching
cookery to some men in France. Everything written by Captain Bean and
Mr. Malcolm Ross, the authorised correspondents for Australia and New
Zealand respectively, is also invaluable for history.
[82] One of these transports, the _Manitou_, had a narrow escape
upon the voyage from Egypt. She was attacked by a Turkish destroyer,
whose captain courteously gave an opportunity for removing the men
in their boats. In the hurry two of the boats were overturned and
fifty-one men drowned. The enemy destroyer, apprehending the approach
of British ships, then drew in close, and fired three torpedoes, all of
which passed under the transport, the range being too short to allow a
torpedo to rise after its plunge. The destroyer was afterwards driven
ashore in Asia by two of our destroyers and broken up.--See _The
Immortal Gamble_, p. 67.
[83] See also _Charles Lister_, by Lord Ribblesdale, p. 164.
Charles Lister himself was one of the young men of brilliant promise
whose death was due to the Gallipoli campaign. After gallant service in
the Hood Battalion of the Royal Naval Division at Helles, he died of
his third wound, August 28, 1915.
[84] Thucydides, vi. 32; Diodorus, xiii. 3. From Athens herself only
about 3000 of the troops for the Sicilian expedition started. It is
curious to remember that Plato was a boy in Ægina at the time, and
probably watched the race.
[85] _The Immortal Gamble_, pp. 72–82 and 98–104 (account by
Captain Davidson, who went ashore himself).
[86] Besides the names here mentioned, Vice-Admiral de Robeck in his
dispatch especially noticed Able Seaman William Williams (killed),
Seaman George M‘Kenzie Samson (dangerously wounded), Lieutenant John
A. V. Morse, R.N., and Surgeon P. B. Kelly, R.N., as rendering great
and perilous service at this landing.
[87] For this incident and others at V Beach, see _The Immortal
Gamble_, pp. 81–92, besides Sir Ian Hamilton’s and Admiral de
Robeck’s dispatches.
[88] Sir Ian Hamilton’s first dispatch, “The Gallipoli Landing.”
[89] See Mr. Ashmead Bartlett’s dispatches, “Seddel Bahr Landing,” p.
92. Mr. Bartlett was not present, being at the Anzac landing, and Sir
Ian’s dispatch mentions only the company at the foot of Cape Tekke on
the left.
[90] Excellent personal accounts of W Beach landing by three 1st
Lancashire officers are given in _With the Twenty-ninth Division_,
pp. 57–63. It is hard to choose between the three; but I give some
sentences from Major Adams, who had been twenty-five years in the
regiment, and was killed a few days later, as were the other two: “As
the boats touched the shore a very heavy and brisk fire was poured
into us, several officers and men being killed and wounded in the
entanglements, through which we were trying to cut a way. Several
of my company were with me under the wire, one of my subalterns was
killed next to me, and also the wire-cutter who was lying the other
side of me. I seized his cutter and cut a small lane myself, through
which a few of us broke and lined up under the only available cover
procurable--a small sand ridge covered with bluffs of grass. I then
ordered fire to be opened on the crests; but owing to submersion in the
water and dragging rifles through the sand, the breech mechanism was
clogged, thereby rendering the rifles ineffective. The only thing left
to do was to fix bayonets and charge up the crests, which was done in a
very gallant manner, though we suffered greatly in doing so. However,
this had the effect of driving the enemy from his trenches, which we
immediately occupied.... In my company alone I had 95 casualties out of
205 men.”
A still more detailed account of the Lancashire landing, specially
describing the services of Major Frankland (killed while trying to
take assistance to V Beach about 8.30 a.m.) and of Captains Willis,
Shaw, Cunliffe, and Haworth, is given in an additional chapter by Major
Farmar (Lancashire Fusiliers) at the end of the same book, pp. 175–191.
[91] Beside Sir Ian’s dispatch, see Colonel Newenham’s own account in
_With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 55–57.
[92] Authorities differ widely as to the number of boats to each tow,
but four appears to be right, though six was more usual.
[93] During the Anzac landing, Mr. Ashmead Bartlett was in the
_London_, and his account was unusually brilliant, even for
that brilliant writer. Besides that and Sir Ian’s dispatch, the
best published account is in _Australia in Arms_, pp. 94–114.
Mr. Schuler was not present, but he had the advantage of going over
the ground and discussing the action thoroughly. I had the same
advantages, especially owing to the generous assistance of the Anzac
correspondents, Captain Bean and Mr. Malcolm Ross.
[94] _Uncensored Letter from the Dardanelles_, by a French Medical
Officer, pp. 44–74.
[95] _The Immortal Gamble_, p. 147.
[96] _Australia in Arms_, p. 122.
[97] Having held it with skill and resolution for a month, Major Quinn
was himself killed there in a furious attempt which the Turks made to
mine and break through the position (May 29).
[98] From an account privately written by a friend who knew
Doughty-Wylie intimately, I may quote the following sentences: “As the
result of many wounds, he had suffered in health and had transferred
from the army to the Consular Service, and had spent some years in Asia
Minor. I arrived in Adana after the massacres in 1909, just before he
left for Abyssinia, and stayed at the Consulate, learning much from
him about those terrible days of the preceding April. My memories
are permeated with a sense of his oneness with all the warring sects
in that fanatical province. He was the emblem of what they needed:
unity--greatness of heart and mind--an entire absence of self-seeking
or pride.... An Armenian girl described the scene to me: ‘We were all
in a church, hundreds of us huddled together, and the Turks set light
to it. But he came, the Consul Anglais. He forced his way through the
mob, and we saw his face. “Come, my children,” he called to us, and
we followed him out. Like frightened sheep we were, but he calmed us
and led us to safety.’ ... ‘The oppressor is often in the right, and
the oppressed always,’ he used playfully to quote to me.” A permanent
monument to Doughty-Wylie and Walford was erected in Seddel Bahr.
[99] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 191.
[100] The battalions in the brigades were: 125th Brigade, the 5th, 6th,
7th, and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers; 126th Brigade, the 4th and 5th East
Lancashire, and the 9th and 10th Manchester; the 127th Brigade, the
5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Manchester.
[101] In _Australia in Arms_, pp. 136–139, Phillip Schuler gives a
detailed account, obviously derived from officers who were present.
[102] Sir Ian’s dispatch; and _Australia in Arms_, pp. 139–142.
[103] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 189. The one surviving
officer of the Dublin Fusiliers was Lieutenant O’Hara, afterwards
mortally wounded at Suvla Bay.
[104] _The Immortal Gamble_, p. 145.
[105] Abdul Hamid died at last in Constantinople, February 1918.
[106] The submarine campaign began with E2, 11, 14, and 15; four or
five were subsequently added. Some were lost. On May 25 the E11 also
torpedoed the transport _Stamboul_ inside the Golden Horn, causing
great panic. On April 30 the Australian AE2 had been lost at the
entrance of Marmora. Her crew were taken prisoner.
[107] For the state of Constantinople at this time, see _Inside
Constantinople_, by Lewis Einstein, special agent at the American
Embassy, and _Two War Years in Constantinople_, by Dr. Harry
Stürmer, correspondent of the _Kölnische Zeitung_, but a writer of
decidedly pro-Entente sympathies.
[108] In this attack Mr. Asquith’s son Arthur (Hood Battalion), and
Lieutenant-Commander Josiah Wedgwood, M.P., who had come out with the
machine-gun section, were wounded.
[109] Compare Ashmead Bartlett’s _Dispatches from the
Dardanelles_, p. 118.
[110] John Masefield’s account of the soldier’s mind in this battle is
a fine instance of imaginative sympathy. _Gallipoli_, pp. 72–81.
[111] This 2nd French Division was composed as follows: _3rd Brigade
Metropolitaine_ (C.O. Colonel Ruef), comprising the 176ème Régiment
d’Infanterie (Commandant Costemalle), and the 2ème Régiment de Marche
d’Afrique (Lieut.-Colonel Hautville); _Brigade Coloniale_ (C.O.
Général de Brigade Simonin, who afterwards commanded the division),
comprising the 7ème Régiment Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel Bordeaux), partly
Senegalese, and the 8ème Régiment Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel d’Adhémar),
also partly Senegalese. The Division had six batteries of “75’s” and
two of mountain guns. The Corps of the two Divisions had two regiments
of Chasseurs d’Afrique, four 120 mm. guns, four 155 mm. guns (long),
six 155 mm. guns (short), besides detachments of engineers, supply,
army service, and ambulance.
[112] The brigade consisted of the Wellington Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel
W. G. Malone, a splendid soldier and man, afterwards killed at Anzac),
the Auckland (Lieut.-Colonel A. Plugge), the Canterbury (Lieut.-Colonel
D. M. Stewart), and the Otago (Lieut.-Colonel T. W. M‘Donald).
[113] The 2nd Australian Brigade consisted of the 5th Victoria
Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Wanliss), the 6th (Lieut.-Colonel M‘Nicol),
the 7th (Lieut.-Colonel Garside), and the 8th (Lieut.-Colonel Bolton).
[114] See _Australia in Arms_, pp. 143–156.
[115] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 94.
[116] _Ibid._, p. 112.
[117] _Australia in Arms_, p. 158.
[118] _Australia in Arms_, p. 166.
[119] _The Immortal Gamble_, pp. 167–174. Lieutenant Cather,
R.N., went down with the _Goliath_, but was kept afloat by a
safety waistcoat. This he gave to a sailor much exhausted. Ultimately
he was himself rescued, and for some months commanded on the _River
Clyde_. It is impossible to mention all such heroic actions, but
hard to omit the deeds of personal friends. One midshipman, also
protected by a safety waistcoat, was found floating about two days and
nights after the disaster, but was too exhausted to live.
[120] Our casualties by the end of May were 38,600.
[121] “We went on board the _Implacable_ on the way back, where
I met Ashmead Bartlett, the official newspaper correspondent, who was
most pessimistic. ‘The best thing we could do was to evacuate the
place. This was developing into a major operation, and we had not the
troops for it. Achi Baba was untakable, except after months of siege
warfare’” (Diary for May 13, by the Rev. O. Creighton, _With the
Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, p. 90). After his fortunate
escape from the _Majestic_ as she sank, Mr. Ashmead Bartlett
returned to London for a short time, and a memorandum by him, strongly
criticising Sir Ian’s positions, and advising an attack on Bulair,
was considered by the “Dardanelles Committee” (_Second Dardanelles
Report_, p. 26).
[122] Such as Col. Crauford Stewart of the Hood (wounded) and Col.
Roberts, R.A. (Egyptian Army), of the Anson (killed).
[123] The original Collingwood, with the Hawke and Benbow Battalions,
crossed the Dutch frontier in retiring from Antwerp, and were interned.
The new battalions were left to complete their training in England,
when the R.N.D. sailed. Thus the Collingwood (Commander Spearman, R.N.)
was now for the first time under fire. The brother of Lieut.-Commander
Freyberg (see p. 120) was killed on this occasion. The Collingwood
relics and the Benbow were incorporated soon after this battle with
the Hood, Howe, and Anson Battalions as the 2nd Naval Brigade--an
arrangement resented on both sides, but inevitable owing to reduction
of men.
[124] Notes of the battle from hour to hour were taken by a French
medical officer (_Uncensored Letters from the Dardanelles_, pp.
121–125).
[125] This fine officer was killed in the battle of July 13.
[126] One brigade of the R.N.D. alone lost 60 officers.
[127] “The worst was that the wounded had not been got back, but lay
between ours and the Turks’ firing line. It was impossible to get at
some of them. The men said they could see them move. The firing went on
without ceasing.... The General had suggested putting up a white flag,
and some one going out to the wounded. They tried this later, but it
failed” (_With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 122, 123). Who the
General was is left uncertain. The passage is from a diary of June 5.
[128] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 122–129. Of original
officers in this famous division, the South Wales Borderers now had the
most left. They had eight.
[129] The loss, unhappily, included Colonel Giraudon, Chief of the
Staff, who had been rashly put to command the 2nd Colonial Brigade of
the 1st Division on this occasion--a serious, brave, and intellectual
soldier. He was dangerously wounded, as was Colonel Noguès, commanding
the 6th Colonial Regiment in that brigade, who with his regiment had
distinguished himself greatly in the attack upon Kum Kali and elsewhere
(see _Uncensored Letters from the Dardanelles_, p. 137). Colonel
Giraudon returned to his position in the Dardanelles, and survived to
do excellent work in France, where he was, however, ultimately killed
in action.
[130] Account by Mr. Compton Mackenzie, who acted as authorised
correspondent for the London papers during Mr. Ashmead Bartlett’s
temporary absence.
[131] The division consisted of the 155th Brigade (Brig.-General J. F.
Erskine, succeeded by Lieut.-Colonel Pollok-M‘Call), containing the
4th and 5th Battalions Royal Scottish Fusiliers, and the 4th and 5th
Battalions K.O.S.B.; the 156th Brigade (Brig.-General Scott-Moncrieff,
killed on June 28; then Brig.-General H. G. Casson, succeeded by
Brig.-General L. C. Koe), containing the 4th and 7th Royal Scots, and
the 7th and 8th Scottish Rifles; and the 157th Brigade (Brig.-General
R. W. Hendry, succeeded by Brig.-General H. G. Casson), containing
the 5th, 6th, and 7th Highland Light Infantry, and the 5th Argyll and
Sutherland Highlanders.
[132] Now (spring, 1918) Commander-in-Chief in Mesopotamia in
succession to Sir Stanley Maude, who commanded the 13th Division during
the later part of the Dardanelles campaign.
[133] “Scenes of desperate fighting are plainly visible all around our
front line. On a small rise a little to the left (_i.e._ of our
advanced position up the Gully) lie half a dozen of our men killed in
the final advance, whom it had been impossible to get at and bury.
Right in front a line of khaki figures lie in perfect order only a few
yards away, yet the sniping is so heavy that even at night it is almost
impossible to bring them in. Farther up the ravine are heaps of Turkish
dead, piled together, who have fallen in the big counter-attack. In
a gorse patch farther to the left lie a further large number of the
enemy, mixed up with some of our men, for there seems to have been a
general mêlée in the open at dawn on the 29th, when our men issued
from their trenches and hunted the enemy out of the gorse, killing
large numbers of them.”--_Dispatches from the Dardanelles_, by E.
Ashmead Bartlett, p. 152 (July 4).
[134] _Uncensored Letters_, pp. 144–146.
[135] _Australia in Arms_, pp. 205–210.
[136] “A rough estimate of their number (Turkish troops) since
mobilisation is as follows: At the Dardanelles, 130,000; in Thrace,
30,000; at Constantinople and Chitaldja, 20,000; on the Bosphorus,
20,000; in the Caucasus, 60,000; at Bagdad and the Persian Gulf,
20,000; Syria, 30,000; Aleppo and Mersine, 30,000; Smyrna district,
30,000; gendarmerie, 30,000; at the depôts, 50,000; scattered, 30,000”
(_Inside Constantinople_, p. 125). This makes a total of 480,000,
and the writer estimates that Turkey had by that time (June 18, 1915)
lost 260,000, including 100,000 on Gallipoli. But these statistics are
probably of little more than Turkish value.
As to the neglect to supply the Dardanelles Expedition with guns and
shells, it must, of course, be remembered that they were then short on
all fronts, and it was only in the beginning of June that Mr. Lloyd
George was appointed to a Ministry of Munitions.
[137] This destruction of a signal and telegraph station was probably
the incident referred to at the end of Sir Ian’s second dispatch. He
tells how Corporal G. A. Walker, R.E., although much shaken, repaired
the damage, collected men, and within 39 minutes reopened communication
by apologising for the incident and saying he required no assistance.
Twelve were killed or wounded, beside the officer on duty, killed.
[138] This was the German General Weber, commanding the “Southern
Group” on the Peninsula. He was superseded by Vehib Pasha, “a grim and
fanatical Turk,” the change causing great discontent among the Germans.
“In this case, the Turkish point of view prevailed, for General Liman
von Sanders, Commander-in-Chief of the Gallipoli Army, was determined
not to lose his post, and agreed slavishly with all that Enver Pasha
ordained” (_Two War Years in Constantinople_, p. 46).
[139] See note on p. 223.
[140] The _Aragon_ was torpedoed in the Mediterranean, January
1918.
[141] First Dardanelles Commission Report, par. 14, note. It seems to
have been a section of the “War Committee” established by the Coalition
Government of May 19.
[142] This estimate does not include the French casualties, which are
not published.
[143]
The 13th Division consisted of the following brigades:
38th (Brigadier-General Baldwin)--
6th Royal Lancashire, 6th East Lancashire, 6th South
Lancashire, and 6th North Lancashire.
39th (Brigadier-General W. de S. Cayley)--
9th Royal Warwick, 7th Gloucester, 9th Worcester, and
7th North Stafford.
40th (Brigadier-General J. H. du B. Travers)--
4th South Wales Borderers, 8th Royal Welsh Fusiliers,
8th Cheshire, and 5th Wilts.
The 8th Welsh Regiment were Divisional Pioneers.
[144]
The 11th Division consisted of the following brigades:
32nd (Brigadier-General H. Haggard)--
9th West York, 6th Yorkshire, 8th West Riding, and 6th
York and Lancaster.
33rd (Brigadier-General R. P. Maxwell)--
6th Lincolnshire, 6th Border, 7th South Stafford, and 9th
Sherwood Foresters.
34th (Brigadier-General W. H. Sitwell)--
8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 9th Lancashire Fusiliers,
5th Dorset, and 11th Manchester.
The 6th East Yorkshire were Divisional Pioneers.
[145]
The 10th Division consisted of the following brigades:
29th (Brigadier-General R. J. Cooper)--
10th Hampshire, 6th Royal Irish Rifles, 5th Connaught
Rangers, and 6th Leinster.
30th (Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol)--
6th and 7th Royal Munster Fusiliers, 6th and 7th Royal
Dublin Fusiliers.
31st (Brigadier-General F. F. Hill)--
5th and 6th Inniskilling Fusiliers, 5th and 6th Royal Irish
Fusiliers.
The 5th Royal Irish Regiment were Divisional Pioneers. Only about 60
per cent. of the men in these battalions were Irish, the rest being
chiefly North-country miners and Somerset. For the complete list of the
battalions in this Division, the Artillery, Engineers, etc., see _The
Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, by Major Bryan Cooper, pp. 2
and 3.
[146] I am unable to give the exact formations of these Divisions.
The battalions were changed shortly before they left England. From
dispatches and other sources, however, one can make the following list:
_53rd (Welsh) Division_:
158th Brigade (Brigadier-General E. A. Cowans)--
5th, 6th, and 7th Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and the 1/1st
Herefordshire.
159th Brigade (Brigadier-General F. C. Lloyd)--
4th and 7th Cheshires, and the 4th and 5th Welsh.
160th Brigade (Brigadier-General J. J. F. Hume)--
4th Queen’s (Royal West Surrey), 4th Royal Sussex, a
composite Kent Battalion, and the 10th Middlesex.
_54th (East Anglian) Division_:
161st Brigade (Brigadier-General C. M. Brunton)--
4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th Essex.
162nd Brigade (Brigadier-General C. de Winton)--
10th and 11th London, 5th Bedfordshire, and 4th Northants.
163rd Brigade (Brigadier-General Brunker, later under F. F. W.
Daniell)--
4th and 5th Norfolks, 5th Suffolks, and 8th Hants.
[147] _Uncensored Letters_, p. 170. There were 10 French planes.
[148] Our estimates of the enemy’s forces for the days of fighting in
August were:
+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+
| Date. | Suvla.| Anzac. | Helles.| Reserve. |
+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+
|August 6–7 | 3,000 | 25,000 | 33,000 | 39,000 |
| „ 8 | 5,000 | 31,000 | 33,000 | 20,000[A]|
| „ 9 | 7,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 20,000[B]|
| „ 10 | 9,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 25,000 |
| „ 11 | 13,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 25,000 |
| „ 15 | 20,000 | 47,000 | 15,000 | 12,000 |
| „ 22 | 26,000 | 41,000 | 15,000 | 12,000 |
+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+
[A] 11,000 marching south. [B] 2000 marching south.
[149] Part of this small and undisciplined body actually landed, but
meeting with opposition rapidly withdrew to the ship in characteristic
disorder, assuming their object to be accomplished.
[150]
“_Special Order_.
“GENERAL HEADQUARTERS,
MEDITERRANEAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE,
_August 5, 1915_.
“SOLDIERS OF THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW.--Some of you have
already won imperishable renown at our first landing, or have since
built up our footholds upon the Peninsula, yard by yard, with deeds
of heroism and endurance. Others have arrived just in time to take
part in our next great fight against Germany and Turkey, the would-be
oppressors of the rest of the human race.
“You, veterans, are about to add fresh lustre to your arms. Happen
what may, so much at least is certain.
“As to you, soldiers of the new formations, you are privileged indeed
to have the chance vouchsafed you of playing a decisive part in
events which may herald the birth of a new and happier world. You
stand for the great cause of freedom. In the hour of trial remember
this, and the faith that is in you will bring you victoriously
through.
“IAN HAMILTON, _General_.”
[151] Here, as in other places, it is impossible to record individual
acts of courage, but the service of Lieut. W. T. Forshaw (9th
Manchesters) became almost a legend on the Peninsula. On the night
7th-8th, he was holding a northern corner of the vineyard with half a
company when he was attacked by a swarm of Turks converging down three
trenches. “He held his own, not only directing his men and encouraging
them by exposing himself with the utmost disregard of danger, but
personally throwing bombs continuously for forty-one hours. When his
detachment was relieved, after twenty-four hours, he volunteered to
continue the direction of operations. Three times during the night
of August 8–9 he was again heavily attacked, and once the Turks got
over the barricade; but after shooting three with his revolver he led
his men forward and recaptured it. When he rejoined his battalion he
was choked and sickened by bomb fumes, badly bruised by a fragment
of shrapnel, and could barely lift his arm from continuous bomb
throwing.”--Official Report for his V.C.
[152] Sir Ian’s Suvla dispatch; and _Australia in Arms_, pp.
221–223.
[153] The name was due to a repeated saying of Colonel J. L. Johnston
(11th West Australian Battalion), that if only he could bring howitzers
instead of field-guns to bear on it, he would have “a jolly good time
there.”--_Australia in Arms_, p. 188.
[154] _Australia in Arms_, p. 225. The author, Phillip Schuler,
was present, but it is noticeable that Captain C. E. W. Bean, who was
also present, does not directly mention this underground line.
[155] Of this eagerness, Capt. Bean, the Australian correspondent,
gives an example: “‘Is there any room up there?’ I heard a man in the
trench ask of those who were crouching under the parapet. One of the
men on the fire-step looked down. ‘I dare say we could make room for
one,’ he said. ‘Shift along, you blokes--we can squeeze in a little
one.’ The man in the trench was clearly relieved. ‘I want to get up
here along with Jim,’ he said. ‘Him and me are mates.’”--See the
Australian newspapers, October 17, 1915.
[156] As to these seventy prisoners (who were caught and disarmed in
one tunnel) and the Turkish wounded, Major-General Walker, commanding
the division, and my old schoolfellow at Shrewsbury, told me shortly
afterwards as we stood on the spot that, until they could be brought
safely across the open, they were carefully placed lying down in line
under the shelter of that white loopholed parapet as the most secure
place the Australians could find for their comfort.
[157] _Australia in Arms_, p. 238.
[158] Captain C. E. W. Bean, in the Australian papers, October 4, 1915.
[159] Captain C. E. W. Bean’s account in Australian papers of October
4, 1915. Phillip Schuler (_Australia in Arms_, p. 241) says his
words were: “Men, you have ten minutes to live,” and “Three minutes,
men.” But this is an unlikely utterance from so good an officer.
[160] Captain C. E. W. Bean in the Australian papers of November 2,
1915.
[161] The arrangement of these forces is given in Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[162] Captain Bean, Australian papers, October 14, 1915.
[163] See “From Quinn’s to Rhododendron,” in the _Chronicles of the
N.Z.E.F._, August 8, 1917.
[164] It was either on this position or upon a neighbouring knoll
known as Destroyer Hill that the following peculiar event occurred, as
narrated by Captain Bean (Australian papers, October 25, 1915): “The
Otago Battalion, which was clearing out the small trenches ahead of it
as its head wormed up the Chailak Ravine, swung up the slopes of this
hill. The battalion had just reached the shelf below the Table Top, and
was pushing up its line for the final rush over the hill when there
arose a strange uproar on the top above them. There was the sound of
the piling of arms, followed by vociferous cheering and wild rounds of
applause and hand-clapping. It was the Turks on the top of the hill who
had decided to surrender, and who did not want any mistake to be made
as to their intention.” The Otagos alone are said to have taken 250
prisoners that night (_Australia in Arms_, p. 253).
[165] Captain Bean, Australian papers, October 25. He adds: “I believe
that fifteen men actually managed to reach the Turkish trench on the
summit. They never came back.”
[166] Captain Bean’s account in Australian papers, October 25, 1915.
[167] Fortunately for the brigade, the Turks had withdrawn their guns
during the night (7th and 8th) owing to the Suvla landing, and had not
yet brought them back to W Hill.
[168] Sir Ian’s dispatch quotes the order.
[169] Phillip Schuler definitely says: “Mistaking the target, the
destroyers dropped 6-inch high-explosive shells amongst the Indian
troops” (_Australia in Arms_, p. 261). But, accurate though
he generally was, I believe he is here mistaken. I never heard the
destroyers mentioned at the time, and I doubt if their guns could have
shelled a _reverse_ slope. Further on (p. 263) he says that during
the Turkish counter-attack next day the _Anzac_ guns shelled “the
reverse slope.” If that was possible, another explanation besides the
one I suggest above may be considered.
[170] Apparently, it was mainly to this incident that Dr. Stürmer
referred in the following passage: “In those September” (he means
August) “days I had already had some experience of Turkish politics
and their defiance of the laws of humanity, and my sympathies were all
for those thousands of fine Colonial troops--such men as one seldom
sees--sacrificing their lives in one last colossal attack, which if
it had been prolonged even for another hour might have sealed the
fate of the Straits and would have meant the first decisive step
towards the overthrow of our forces; for the capture of Constantinople
would have been the beginning of the end.”--_Two War Years in
Constantinople_, p. 86.
[171] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[172] _The Story of the Anzacs_ (Messrs. Ingram & Son, Melbourne),
p. 87.
[173] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[174] For a detailed account of the four battalions in the 29th Brigade
during this action see _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_,
pp. 62–120. Two companies of the 5th Connaught Rangers (Colonel
Jourdain) went up to the Farm on the evening of the 10th after the
other troops had been withdrawn, and brought in many wounded whom they
found lying there in great need of water and attention.
[175] Phillip Schuler put them at 18,000 (_Australia in Arms_, p.
270).
[176] _Australia in Arms_, p. 271.
[177] Sir Ian’s dispatch twice mentions these batteries as the sole
land artillery. All three belonged to the 11th Division. Other
batteries of field-guns and howitzers arrived later, but we are
speaking of the Suvla first landing--the really critical time.
[178] Sir Ian in his dispatch reckons twelve 18-pounder guns and
eight mountain-guns as starting. Only the mountain-guns and four of
the 18-pounders were in action by August 8, but the 59th Brigade,
R.F.A., and the 4th Highland Mountain Brigade, R.G.A., were attached
to the 11th Division. On the 9th, two field batteries were on Lala
Baba. On August 13 to 15 the 58th Brigade also arrived at Suvla, and
was attached to the 10th Division. On the 19th a battery of the 4th
Howitzer Lowland Brigade, R.F.A., was placed in position on Lala Baba.
[179] Sir Ian’s dispatch gives a full account of the warships,
lighters, and trawlers sent with the landing-force, together with
details about the water-supply provided. He does not mention the large
transport _Minneapolis_, which I think must have taken the place
of the sloop Aster, for we certainly had batteries of mountain-guns
with their teams on board. She was a liner, taken over with all her
staff; and as instances of petrifying routine I remember that, as I
hoped to land at 4 a.m., I asked if one could get a cup of tea then,
and was haughtily informed, “On this ship breakfast is always at
8.30”; and later in the morning, when the fighting was at crisis, the
“stewards” were sweeping out the gangways with vacuum-cleaners as they
had swept for years. Habits of routine were, however, fatally disturbed
in the following spring when the _Minneapolis_ was torpedoed
between Egypt and Salonika.
[180] _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, p. 142.
[181] These fires appear to have arisen near the true Hill 10, which
was taken about this time by a mixed force of Northumberland Fusiliers,
Dorsets, and West Yorks, after a severe struggle against a redoubt
there.
[182] Sir Ian’s dispatch says the naval authorities were unwilling to
land them at A Beach “for some reason not specified.” Considering what
misfortune had already happened there, the above explanation appears to
me at least sufficient. But A East and A West had been discovered by
the navy before the unfortunate landing at B Beach began.
[183] _The Tenth (Irish) Division at Gallipoli_, pp. 125 and 140.
[184] So Major Bryan Cooper in _The Tenth (Irish) Division_,
p. 129. My impression at the time was of no rush, but a calm though
laborious trudge. Major Cooper, however, continues: “The 7th Dublins
in particular were much encouraged by the example of their Colonel....
While every one else was dashing swiftly across the neck, or keeping
close under cover, it is recorded that Colonel Downing--a man of
unusual height and girth--stood in the centre of the bullet-swept zone,
quietly twisting his stick.” “Dashing swiftly across” that sand would,
I think, be impossible under any impulse, and cover did not exist;
at least I never found it, though I toiled over that spit many dozen
times, and it always remained exposed to shell-fire from W Hill.
[185] The movements of Hill’s battalions, and their relation to
Sitwell’s are difficult to follow, chiefly owing to the changes of
command and intention. After speaking of these changes, Sir Ian in his
dispatch continues: “I have failed in my endeavours to get some live
human detail about the fighting which followed.” The detail has now
been largely supplied by Major Bryan Cooper in _The Tenth (Irish)
Division in Gallipoli_, pp. 127–135. In the main, I have followed
his account, the chief outstanding difficulty being the presence of
the 6th Lincoln and 6th Border Battalions, which did not belong to
Sitwell’s or Haggard’s Brigades, but to Maxwell’s (the 33rd). Major
Cooper says two battalions of the 11th Division reinforced Hill’s
column, and Sir Ian mentions those two as distinguished at the taking
of the hill. But how they came to be under Sitwell’s command, or under
Hill’s, is not yet clear. I can only suppose that, as Sitwell’s force
could not or did not move, General Hammersley ordered Maxwell to send
them over from Lala Baba. After Brigadier-General Haggard was wounded,
Colonel J. O‘B. Minogue (9th W. Yorks) took temporary command of the
32nd Brigade.
[186] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[187] For an account of the thirst, see Sir Ian’s dispatch and _The
Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 137, 145, 148, 157–158. Also _Suvla
Bay and After_, by Juvenis, pp. 37, 40–43, where the services of the
destroyer to the 10th Division are mentioned.
[188] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[189] The water question was much disputed at the time, and many
contradictory versions were given. I have here followed the account
given me in recent (1917) conversation by a naval officer who was
closely connected with the superintendence of the landing. The real
causes of the thirst, in any case, were the want of receptacles and the
distance from the firing line. As to the failure at A Beach, it must of
course be remembered that the naval chart was old and useless, and no
survey had been possible without betraying the point chosen for landing.
[190] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[191] So as not to interrupt the narrative, one is obliged to mention
only in a note the remarkable achievement of our submarines on this
critical and unfortunate day. In order to help E14, which was already
in the Sea of Marmora, E11 had forced her way through the nets in the
Straits, and on the 8th torpedoed a Turkish warship coming down towards
Maidos with reinforcements.
[192] Turkish information has since shown that Liman von Sanders had
brought up two divisions (7th and 12th) by forced marches from Xeros.
[193] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 158–161.
[194] One of these was called A East, the other A West. Between them
was Kangaroo Beach, where the Australian Bridging Train built a
landing-stage. They also built a very useful little pier close to the
“cut” into the Salt Lake, chiefly for the service of the wounded being
taken off to hospital ships. Of the Suvla beaches A West was the most
generally used, though a small harbour was afterwards blasted out of
the rocks at the extreme point.
[195] _The “Times” History of the War_, chap. cxii. p. 198.
[196] A detailed account of this small but gallant action is given in
_The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, pp. 161–180.
[197] The daring of the Turkish snipers, who crept across our lines at
night and perched in the small trees, was proved when, on September
8, General Inglefield’s horse was shot under him as he rode along the
beach from Anzac.
[198] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[199] _Ibid._
[200] In the spring of 1916, General Peyton commanded the successful
expedition against the Senussi, west of Egypt.
[201] The brigades were composed as follows:
(1) _1st South Midland_ (Brigadier-General Wiggin)--
Warwickshire and Worcestershire Yeomanry, Gloucestershire Hussars.
(2) _2nd South Midland_ (Brigadier-General Lord Longford)--
Bucks Hussars, Berks and Dorset Yeomanry.
(3) _North Midland_ (Brigadier-General F. A. Kenna, V.C.)--
Derbyshire Yeomanry, Sherwood Rangers, South Notts Hussars.
(4) _London Brigade_ (Brigadier-General Scatters Wilson)--
City of London Roughriders, 1st County of London Middlesex
Hussars, 3rd County of London Sharpshooters.
_Divisional Cavalry_--
Westminster Dragoons, Herts Yeomanry.
[202] The two brigades (30th and 31st) of the 10th Division, at Suvla,
having lost nearly three-quarters of their officers and half the men,
were withdrawn to rest near Suvla Beach on August 17, and on August 22
General F. F. Hill, the trusted Brigadier of the 31st, was invalided
away with dysentery. As previously noticed, he was succeeded in
command by Brigadier-General J. G. King-King, General Staff Officer
(1).--_The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 208.
[203] _The “Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 205.
[204] It was unfortunate that, standing beside a machine-gun at the
front parapet of Chocolate Hill, I was just at that moment struck
on the head by shrapnel, and so was unable to witness the confused
advance which led to the failure. By the time I returned to my
position at 4.15, the mistake had been made. It may, perhaps, be
medically interesting that for the previous forty-eight hours I had
been suffering from high fever, but the violent rush of blood from the
wound appeared to reduce the temperature, and at night I walked to the
dressing-station at Suvla Point in perfect health, except for mere pain
and exhaustion.
[205] Sir Ian’s dispatch. In a Supplementary Dispatch the 9th Sherwood
Foresters and 6th Borders were also specially mentioned.
[206] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[207] As usual throughout this history, I have found it impossible to
record the countless instances of individual bravery, but I may mention
the case of Captain O’Sullivan (1st Inniskilling Fusiliers). Early in
July, describing one of the actions at Helles, Sir Ian had written: “A
young fellow called O’Sullivan, in the Inniskilling Fusiliers, led a
bombing party into one end of an enemy trench, and cleared it of the
enemy. The Turks counter-attacked with bombs, and drove him and his men
out with a good deal of loss. Again he cleared the trench, filling his
pockets and belt with bombs. Again he was driven back. A third time he
led the attack, and this time the trench was held and remains in our
possession. Within an hour of this last feat of arms, a trench was lost
to the right in prolongation of the Inniskilling Fusiliers. This same
young fellow, who had already gone through enough to shake the nerves
of the most veteran soldiers, led his company down into the trench
himself, running along a few yards ahead of them out on the parapet,
exposed to a tremendous musketry fire, chucking bombs into the trench
just in front of the leading files, so as to clear the way for them.
There is a limit to luck, and this time he was wounded, but I hope he
may pull through.” He pulled through, and on August 21 twice led his
company up against the Turkish trenches on Scimitar Hill, and twice
was driven back. Collecting the men in a little hollow of the ground,
he said, “Now I depend on you, my lads, and we’ll just have one more
charge for the honour of the regiment.” He led them all by a clear 20
yards up the hill, leapt into the trench, and there died.
[208] Brigadier-General R. S. Vandeleur succeeded to the command of
this brigade on September 22.
[209] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 188–192. Until that volume
appeared, the Connaught Rangers had not received the public credit due
to this serviceable exploit, though in Gallipoli they were spoken of
with the highest praise.
[210] During the night Captain Gilleson, the Presbyterian chaplain
of the 14th Australian (Victoria) Battalion, worked incessantly at
bringing the wounded back to safety. After daylight next morning, still
hearing cries from the exposed slope over the crest of the ridge, he
crept out and found a British soldier (probably Hants or Connaught
Rangers) wounded and tormented by ants. With help of two others (one
also a Presbyterian chaplain) he had dragged the man about a yard when
he fell mortally wounded. The man, I believe, was also killed; the
Presbyterian was wounded. Later on (August 28) Captain Grant, a New
Zealand padre (the form of religion was not mentioned to me at the
time) went searching for a wounded friend along a trench filled with
dead and wounded Turks. To the wounded he attended on his way; but
hearing conversation farther on, he thought he recognised his friend’s
voice. Turning a sharp corner of a traverse, he came face to face with
the Turks, and was instantly killed.
Both Captain C. E. W. Bean (Australian papers, Oct. 28, 1915) and
Phillip Schuler (_Australia in Arms_, p. 275) mention these
incidents, which were described to me on the spot a few days after they
happened. Taken with Sir Ian’s dispatch, these two authorities give a
clear idea of the confused fighting around Hill 60. For the action of
the Connaught Rangers, _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_
should be read, as mentioned above. For myself, I had the great
advantage of going over the ground with General A. H. Russell a day or
two after the final action of August 29.
[211] Lieut.-Colonel C. W. Gwynn was Chief of Staff. The Division
consisted of:
_5th Australian Brigade_ (Brigadier-General W. Holmes)--17th,
18th, 19th, and 20th Battalions.
_6th Australian Brigade_ (Colonel R. S. Browne)--21st, 22nd,
23rd, and 24th Battalions.
_7th Australian Brigade_ (Colonel J. Burston)--25th, 26th, 27th,
and 28th Battalions.
[212] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 197.
[213] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 199.
[214] One of the transports (the _Southland_), conveying a
battalion of the 2nd Australian Division, was torpedoed on September 2,
thirty-one miles from Mudros. The firemen took to the boats, but the
engineers kept sufficient head of steam to work the pumps and electric
light. Finding she was filling only slowly, they called for soldier
volunteers to help with the stoking, and in an hour got steam up to
the blowing-off point. The destroyer _Racoon_, which had come
alongside, was then able to supply practised stokers, and they, with
the engineers, stoked the boilers into Mudros harbour.
[215] “It was not entirely an easy matter to assimilate these
reinforcements. As a rule, a draft is a comparatively small body of men
which easily adopts the character of the unit in which it is merged. In
Gallipoli, however, units had been so much reduced in strength that in
some cases the draft was stronger than the battalion that it joined,
while it almost invariably increased the strength of what was left of
the original unit to half as much again. As a result, after two or
three drafts had arrived, the old battalions had been swamped.”--_The
Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 235.
[216] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 229. The 54th Brigade
remained in Egypt.
[217] During this period of comparative inaction, it was announced
that Flight-Lieutenant Edmonds in a seaplane sank a Turkish transport
full of reinforcements with a heavy bomb, and that a submarine sank a
transport of 11-inch guns in the Sea of Marmora (September 7).--_The
“Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 211.
[218] The full speech is quoted in _Nelson’s History of the War_,
by Colonel John Buchan, vol. xi. p. 18.
[219] See Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch on the Dardanelles evacuation.
[220] The further history of the 10th Division (which I visited once
more among the mountains beyond Lake Doiran), as well as of the whole
Salonika campaign up to summer 1917, is told in _The Story of the
Salonika Army_, by my colleague, Mr. G. Ward Price.
[221] Colonel John Buchan puts the number at 13,000 (_Nelson’s
History of the War_, xi. 26).
[222] See the speech of Venizelos to the Athenian Chamber, August 26,
1917.
[223] Belgrade fell to Mackensen on October 9; the Bulgarians crossed
the Serbian frontier on the 11th, occupied Uskub on the 22nd, and
Nish on November 5, thus opening direct railway communication between
the Central Powers and Constantinople through Sofia. Monastir fell on
December 2, and by the middle of that month the Serbian army and the
Allies had been entirely driven out of Serbian territory.
[224] Sir Ian’s dispatch, last section but two.
[225] Sir Ian’s dispatch.
[226] Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch (March 6, 1916).
[227] Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch (March 6, 1916).
[228] Speech in the House of Commons, November 2, 1915.
[229] See _The “Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 213. It is
worth noticing that on November 18, Lord Ribblesdale in the House of
Lords declared that it was common knowledge that Sir Charles Monro had
“reported in favour of withdrawal from the Dardanelles, and adversely
to the continuance of winter operations there.” One can only suppose
that, in saying this, Lord Ribblesdale deliberately intended to mislead
the enemy, who could hardly believe so rash a betrayal of intention
could be made with impunity, if the statement were true.
[230] Lord Kitchener’s original objection to evacuation may perhaps
be supported by a passage in an article by Dr. E. J. Dillon
(_Fortnightly Review_, February 1918): “The evacuation of
Gallipoli was not warranted in the light of all the elements of the
problem, because from the point of view of the Coalition it meant the
asphyxiation of Russia and her ultimate disappearance as a belligerent,
and to ward off this calamity the sacrifice of several warships would
not have been excessive.”
[231] See _Australia in Arms_, pp. 284, 285. The fate of those
suffocated by fumes perhaps caused the rumour that the Turks used
poison gas. I never heard an authentic case of this, though at one time
we were all ordered to carry gas-masks.
[232] That little animosity existed on the Turkish side either is shown
by the following note which I made early in December, though I cannot
date the incident precisely: “The community of human nature between men
who are out to kill each other was lately shown here by an interval
of friendliness, as often in France. It began with the wagging of a
Turkish periscope over the sandbags. One of the Australians (it was at
Anzac) wagged his periscope in answer. Then Turkish hands were held up,
moving the fingers together in the Turkish sign of amity. Presently
heads appeared on both sides, the few words that could be understood
were said, cigarettes and fruit were thrown from one side to the other,
and a note, written in bad French, was thrown to the Australians,
saying, ‘We don’t want to fight you. We want to go home. But we are
driven on by the people you know about.’ I presume that meant the
Germans. Then signs were made that an officer was approaching. The
heads disappeared, and bombs were thrown from trench to trench in place
of fruit.”
[233] The figures for Suvla, as given me by the Staff at the time, were
44,000 men; 90 guns of all calibre, including one anti-aircraft gun;
3000 mules; 400 horses; 30 donkeys; 1800 carts; 4000 to 5000 cartloads
of stores.
[234] The account of the Suvla evacuation is founded on notes I made
at the time and on an article of mine which passed the Military Censor
two days after the event, but was not published in full till I received
General Birdwood’s permission in the following spring. It is perhaps
worth while here contradicting the report that the Turks were bribed
to allow the army to withdraw without opposition. That malignant
depreciation of a most skilful enterprise was a libel both on the enemy
and on our own officers and men. There was not a vestige of truth in it.
[235] The following rough estimate of the Turkish forces was made by
the General Staff about a week before the evacuation:
+-----------------------------+---------+---------+
| Place. |Regiment.| Number. |
+-----------------------------+---------+---------+
|_Suvla Lines_-- | | |
| Kiretch Tepe | 126th | 2100 |
| At foot of Kiretch Tepe | 127th | 3000 |
| Farther in plain | 33rd | 3000 |
| Anafarta plain | 79th |Uncertain|
| Farther south | 35th |Uncertain|
| Still farther south | 34th | 1800 |
| Near Scimitar Hill | 66th |Uncertain|
| Foot of W Hill | 25th | 2400 |
| Opposite Hetman Chair | 66th |Uncertain|
|_Anzac Lines_-- | | |
| Opposite Kabak Kuyu | 17th | 1600 |
| Opposite Hill 60 | 16th | 1200 |
| Upper Asma Dere | 20th | 1800 |
| Abdel Rahman Bair | 19th | 2300 |
| Koja Chemen Tepe | 24th | 2000 |
| The Farm | 22nd | 1800 |
| Battleship Hill | 48th | 2000 |
| Opposite Russell’s Top | 72nd | 2000 |
| In reserve there | 48th |Uncertain|
| Opposite Quinn’s | 27th | 2000 |
| German Officers’ and | | |
| Johnston’s Jolly | 57th | 2000 |
| Lone Pine | 125th | 1600 |
| South of Lone Pine | 47th | 1800 |
| Leane’s Trench | 36th | 1000 |
| Extreme south to Gaba Tepe | 77th | 2700 |
+-----------------------------+---------+---------+
Three regiments were in reserve at Suvla, and three at Anzac. The Army
Headquarters were just south of Koja Dere; Corps Headquarters in the
north behind Anafarta Sagir; in the south at Koja Dere. There were
large camps at Ejelmer Bay and Turchen Keui (a few miles inland from
the bay) in the north, and at Koja Dere in the south.
At Helles the numbers were then uncertain or not available, but the
following regiments were posted opposite our lines from our left to
right:
+------------------------------+---------+
| Place. |Regiment.|
+------------------------------+---------+
|West of Gully Ravine | 70th |
|East of Gully Ravine | 71st |
|West of Krithia Nullah | 124th |
|East of Krithia Nullah | 38th |
|On Achi Baba Nullah | 45th |
|Between that and Kerevez Dere | 56th |
|In Kerevez Dere | 55th |
|Opposite Fort Gouez | 42nd |
|Overlooking the Strait | 41st |
+------------------------------+---------+
Taking an average of 2000 per regiment, this gives a total of 18,000,
apart from reserves; but it is a low estimate. The Headquarters were at
Ali Bey Farm.
[236] The 11th Division (Major-General Fanshawe) now held the Xeros
shore and the Kiretch Tepe Sirt. On the broad and deeply ravined
undercliff below Jephson’s Post, and even beyond it, the 32nd Brigade
(9th West Yorks, 6th Yorkshire, 8th West Riding, and 6th York and
Lancaster) had elaborately entrenched and fortified positions which
they called the “Green Knoll” and “The Boot.” Brigadier-General Dallas
was justifiably proud of the work and of his Yorkshire Brigade. After
going round the complicated trenches with me on December 11, he
whispered sorrowfully, “Pity to leave them! Pity to leave them!” And
to the last he went from man to man, adjuring one to shave, another to
wash his shirt, and all to keep smart whatever happened. To such temper
the difficult operation owed its success.
[237] The management of their mules by the Indians was remarkable. They
controlled those incalculable animals as though they were trained dogs.
It was pathetic that the Indians mistook the name of their destination
(Mudros) for Madras. “Do you want to go to India so much, then?” an
officer asked. “Does a man want to go to heaven?” was the reply.
[238] Beside my personal observation during visits from Suvla in
the final days, my chief authorities upon the Anzac evacuation are
Phillip Schuler’s _Australia in Arms_, an officer’s diary in the
_“Manchester Guardian’s” History of the War_, Part 43, p. 187; Sir
Charles Monro’s dispatch; and conversation with men who were present.
A German correspondent with the Turks on the night of the evacuation
wrote in the _Vossische Zeitung_ of January 21, 1916: “So long as
wars exist, the British evacuation of the Ari Burnu and Anafarta fronts
will stand before the eyes of all strategists of retreat as a hitherto
quite unattained masterpiece.”
[239] A dilatory and whispering 6-inch shell, thrown from a
black-powder battery north of Troy, was called “Creeping Caroline”
by our men. Similarly the French called one particular shell “Marie
pressée”--no doubt a “high velocity.”
[240] On December 30 Sir Charles Monro handed over his command to
General Sir Archibald Murray and left Mudros for Alexandria on his way
back to France.
[241] Shortly before it left, a deed of singular heroism added honour
to the 42nd Division. On December 22, in front of Krithia, Second
Lieut. Alfred Victor Smith (5th East Lancashire, 126th Brigade), only
son of the Chief Constable of Burnley, was throwing a grenade when it
slipped from his hand and fell to the bottom of the trench, close to
several officers and men. He shouted a warning, and jumped clear into
safety. But seeing that the others were unable to get into cover, and
knowing the grenade was due to explode, he returned without hesitation
and flung himself down on it. He was instantly killed by the explosion.
See the _London Gazette_ announcing that the Victoria Cross had
been conferred on him after death.
INDEX
(_I am indebted to_ MRS. E. M. WHITE _for undertaking the difficult
task of this Index_.--H. W. N.)
A Beach (true), 299, 301, 304 and _n._, 358.
A East Beach, 299, 304, 325 and _n._
A West Beach, 299, 304, 325 and _n._
Abdel Rahman Bair, 252, 265, 268, 269, 283.
Abdul Hamid, 2, 144 and _n._
Abrikja, 317, 323–4.
Achi Baba, situation of, 79;
enemy shelling from, 132, 171, 197, 403;
strength of position, 170 _n._, 220.
Achmet, 257.
Adana massacres, 99, 128 _n._
Adramyti Bay, 222, 362.
Adrianople, 55.
Aeroplanes--British, 167, 218–19, 397;
enemy, 308.
African troops, 136, 147, 149, 151, 175.
_Agamemnon_, 48–9, 51–3, 59, 91.
Aghyl Dere, 250, 251, 255, 262, 263, 355.
Agnew, Lt.-Col., 349.
Aire Kavak, 341.
_Albion_, 49, 52, 53, 60, 94, 99.
Alexandria, transports reloaded at, 69–70, 408.
Allanson, Maj. Cecil G. L., 272–6.
Altham, Maj.-Gen., 212, 381.
_Amethyst_, 49, 108, 109.
Ammunition, shortage of, 133, 148, 171, 181, 182, 185, 192, 193, 194
_n._, 200, 219, 229.
Anafarta Biyuk, 114, 251, 269, 286, 287, 335;
entrenched by Turks, 339.
Anafarta Hills, shelling from, 197.
Anafarta Ova, 291, 327.
Anafarta plateau, Turkish guns on, 340.
Anafarta Sagir--situation of, 287, 288;
Moore’s patrol on outskirts of (8 Aug.), 317;
Turkish headquarters at, 388 _n._
“Anafartas, the,” 263.
“Andarti,” 225 and _n._
Antwerp, R.N.D. at, 24, 148, 203.
Anzac Cove--conformation of, 110–12;
storming of (25 April), 111 ff.;
danger of, from shelling, 196.
Anzacs. _See_ Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.
Apex, the, situation of, 261, 360–1;
Anzac occupation of, 261, 270;
subterranean galleries made at, 382;
abandonment of (Dec.), 399.
_Aragon_--reputation of, 211–12 and _n._;
Kitchener’s entourage on, 379;
Monro’s H.Q. on, 381.
_Arcadian_, 80, 148, 166.
Ari Burnu, 112, 113, 250;
pier at, 371.
_Ark Royal_, 49, 218.
Armstrong, Lt.-Col. J. C., 81.
_Arno_, 315.
Art of war, 189.
Artillery:
Inferiority of, 181.
Loans from the French, 134, 184, 401.
Shortage of, 148, 171, 181, 184, 192, 193, 194 _n._, 219, 228, 229,
339, 361;
no anti-aircraft guns till winter, 219, 400.
_Askold_, 88, 120.
Asma Dere, 251–2, 263–4, 268–70.
Asmak Dere, 251.
Aspinall, Lt.-Col., 315, 316.
Aspinall, Capt. C. F., 81.
Asquith, Arthur, 149 _n._
Asquith, Rt. Hon. H. H., War Minister, 16–17;
agrees to Churchill’s plan, 34–5;
encourages Italy’s entry, 56;
the Coalition Ministry, 170;
estimate of, 19–21;
quoted on position of experts, 28;
cited, 376.
_Aster_, 295–6, 297 _n._
Athenian expedition to Sicily, 88–9 and _n._
Atrocities, 98.
Augagneur, M., cited, 35 _n._ 2.
Australian and New Zealand Army Corps:
Casualties of--25–6 April, 127;
2 May, 139;
4–5 June, 190;
Lone Pine, 240;
6–10 Aug., 283;
of 4th Austr. Brig. (8 Aug.), 270.
Characteristics of, 72–3.
Egypt, in, 70–1.
Engagements fought by--2 May, 138;
advance on Krithia (8 May), 155–6;
19 May, 161–2;
4 and 28 June, 188 ff.;
Lone Pine (6–9 Aug.), 231–41;
Sari Bair, 253 ff.
Evacuation of, 397–400 and _n._
Godley’s tribute to, 284.
Kitchener’s visit to, 380.
Landing of (25 April), 113 ff.;
objects, 79;
brigades confused, 124, 125.
Officers of, list of, 82–3.
Quarters of, 117–18, 125;
extension of, by 7–10 Aug. fighting, 285.
Turkish troops opposite (Dec.), 388 _n._
Units of, 83, 154 _n._ 2, 352 _n._ 1.
Withdrawn by battalions to Mudros, 355.
1st Australian Division:
1st (N.S. Wales) Infantry Brigade--landing of, 116;
Lone Pine, 233–40.
2nd (Victoria) Infantry Brigade--units of, 154 _n._ 2;
landing of, 116;
at Helles, 147, 153, 233;
Lone Pine (8–9 Aug.), 240;
the Nek (7 Aug.), 241.
3rd (Australia) Infantry Brigade:
9th (Queensland) Batt., 115, 190–1.
10th (S. Austr.) Batt., 115.
11th (W. Austr.) Batt., 231.
12th (S. Austr., W. Austr., and Tas.) Batt., 239.
New Zealand and Australian Division:
Officers’ reconnaissances, 249.
Reserve (May), 147.
Sari Bair, 253.
Machine-Gun Section, 280.
New Zealand Mounted Infantry Brigade--fighting at the Nek (30
June), 191;
Sari Bair, 254 ff.;
evacuation, 398.
Auckland Regiment--Sari Bair, 257, 265, 266, 277–8;
Hill 60 attack (27 Aug.), 353.
Canterbury Regt.--Sari Bair, 258;
Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 349;
(27 Aug.), 353.
Otago Regt.--Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 349;
(27 Aug.), 353.
Wellington Regt., 353.
1st Australian Lt. Horse Brigade--evacuation of, 398.
1st N.S. Wales Regt., 242–3.
2nd Queensland Regt., 242.
New Zealand Infantry Brigade--units of, 83, 154 _n._ 1;
landing of, 116;
at Helles, 147, 153.
Auckland Batt.--occupies Plugge’s Plateau, 116;
Sari Bair, 254, 260–1;
on Rhododendron Nek (7 Aug.), 264.
Canterbury Batt., 254, 260–1.
Otago Batt.--“Baby 700,” 139;
Sari Bair, 254, 260 and _n._ 2, 261.
Wellington Batt.--Sari Bair, 254, 260–1, 266, 277–8.
4th (Australian) Infantry Brigade--landing of, 116;
“Baby 700,” 139;
Sari Bair, 255, 262, 283;
Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 348–9, 351;
evacuation of, 398.
All Battalions of, in Sari Bair assault, 268–70.
Otago Mounted Rifles Regt., 254, 256, 258–9.
2nd Australian Lt. Horse Brigade, 84;
6th Regt., 398.
3rd Australian Lt. Horse Brigade, 84;
evacuation of, 398.
8th (Victorian) Regt., 244.
9th Regt., 354.
10th (W. Australian) Regt., 244, 354.
2nd Australian Division:
Arrival of, 355 and _n._;
of 18th Batt., 352.
Composition of, 338 _n._ 1.
Infection of, with dysentery, 357.
18th Batt., 352, 353.
Australian Engineers--5th Company, 399.
Bridging Train, 325 _n._
Maori Contingent, 254, 256, 258, 265, 268, 353, 398.
New Zealand Engineers, 254, 255, 259.
B Beach, 299, 304–5, 392.
“Baby 700,” 138, 244.
_Bacchante_, 111, 116, 125, 213, 234.
Backhouse, Commodore O., 84, 137.
Bagdad railway, 3–4, 6.
Bailloud, Gén, 152–3, 193, 366.
Baka Baba, 288.
Baldwin, Brig.-Gen. A. H., blunder of, (8–9 Aug.), 270–1;
belated arrival and retreat, 277;
killed, 281;
mentioned, 204, 216 _n._ 2.
Balfour, Rt. Hon. A. J., 15, 35, 170;
cited, 28.
Balkan races, German attitude to, 3.
Balkan States, forces available in, 365.
Balloons (“Silver Babies”), 219.
Barrage, 159, 173.
Bartlett, Ashmead, 170 _n._;
cited, 119;
quoted, 186 _n._
Basrah, British seizure of, 12.
Battleship Hill, 247, 261, 264.
Battles (after the landings phase)--6 May, 147 ff.;
8 May--advance on Krithia, 155–6;
19 May, 161 ff.;
4 June, 172 ff.;
28 June, 182 ff.;
12 July, 199 ff.;
6 Aug.--feints at Helles, 227 ff.;
at Anzac, 231 ff.;
6–10 Aug.--Sari Bair, 253 ff.;
6–12 Aug.--Suvla Bay, 295 ff.;
15 Aug., 329–32;
20–21 Aug.--Scimitar Hill, 339 ff.;
Kaiajik Aghala, 348 ff.;
27–28 Aug., 353–4;
19 Dec.--Krithia Nullah, 402;
7 Jan., 403.
Bauchop, Lt.-Col. A., 206, 259.
Bauchop’s Hill, 251, 254, 256, 259, 262.
Baumann, Gén., 84.
Bean, Capt. C. E. W., photographs taken by, xiii;
assistance from, 119 _n._;
quoted, 234 _n._ 2, 238, 264, 282;
cited, 351 _n._
Bean, Capt. J. W., 237.
Beauchamp, Col. Sir Horace, 327–8.
“Beetles,” 215–16, 295, 300.
Bennett, Col., 241.
Besika Bay, French feint at, 120–1.
Bibliography, xiii-xiv.
Binns, Capt., 225.
Birdwood, Lt.-Gen. Sir W. R., criticism by, of Carden’s
scheme--telegram of 5 March, 44, 55;
advises immediate landing (22 March), 63;
quarters of, 210;
eulogy by, of Left Assaulting Column at Sari Bair, 264;
hurries up reserves (10 Aug.), 282;
supersedes Hamilton, 372;
Special Order on Kitchener’s visit, 380;
in command of “Dardanelles Army” (Nov.), 381;
ordered to evacuate (8 Dec.), 386;
scheme for Helles evacuation, 401;
estimate of, 374;
mentioned, xii, 70, 82, 90, 118, 207, 253, 279, 322.
Birrell, Surgeon-Gen. W. E., 81, 141.
Biyuk Anafarta. _See_ Anafarta Biyuk.
Biyuk Kemiklo. _See_ Suvla Point.
“Blister ships,” 215, 295.
Boghali, 115, 118.
Bolton, Lt.-Col., 154 _n._ 2.
Bolton’s Hill, 125.
Bombardments--
of 3 Nov. 1914, 1, 29 and _n._ 2;
of 18 Feb. 1915, 50–1;
of 25 Feb., 51–2;
of 4 March, 52;
of 6 March, 53;
of 5 and 7 Mar., 53, 54;
political effects of Feb. and March bombardments, 55–6;
ineffectiveness of bombardments throughout the campaign, 340, 353.
Boomerang, the, 184.
Boot, the, 390 _n._
Bordeaux, Lt.-Col., 153 _n._
Bourne, Lt., 242.
_Bouvet_, 49, 50, 60–1.
Bouyssou, Capt., 84.
Bowman-Manifold, Lt.-Col. M. G. E., 81.
Boyle, Capt. the Hon. A., xii.
Braithwaite, Maj.-Gen. W. F., 70, 81, 162, 328, 371.
Braithwaite, Lt.-Col. W. G., 83.
Brand, Major, 115.
Brandreth, Major, 178.
Branet, Lt.-Col., 84.
_Breslau_, 8–9 and _n._
Bridges, Maj.-Gen. W. T., 70, 71, 83, 138;
death and estimate of, 160.
Brighton Beach, 231.
British troops in the campaign:
Officers, shortage of, 336, 338 _n._, 376.
Positions of (6 Aug.), 225.
Strength of (early Aug.), 219;
(mid Aug.), 336.
VIIIth Army Corps (_see also, for its components, various Divisions
under_ British troops):
Composition of, 156, 172, 219.
French guns left with, 401.
Hunter-Weston succeeded by Stopford and later Davies in command
of, 200–1, 292.
Organisation of, with French into four sections, 159.
IXth army Corps (_see also, for its components, various Divisions
under_ British Troops):
Blizzard casualties (Nov.), 385.
Composition of, 219, 293.
De Lisle succeeds Stopford in command of (15 Aug.), 332.
Godley’s tribute to, 284.
Gun shortage of, 294, 339.
Intelligence and Staff work of, bad, 316–17, 318.
Reorganisation of, ordered (13 Aug.), 329.
10th (Irish) Division:
Arrival of, from Mitylene and landing (7 Aug.), 303–4;
split up into three, 304;
only two Brigades under Stopford, 293;
task for, 298.
Composition of, 217 _n._ 2.
Guns attached to, 296 _n._, 361.
Quality of, 366.
Salonika, transfer to, 366–7.
29th Brigade--at Anzac, 225, 293.
10th Hampshires--Hill Q, 270;
on 21 Aug., 349.
6th Royal Irish Rifles, 270.
5th Connaught Rangers--at Saif-Bair (10 Aug.). 282;
fighting on 21 Aug., 349–50 and _n._;
withdrawn for rest, 352;
attack of 27 Aug., 353–4.
30th Brigade--arrival of, from Mitylene and Mudros, 295;
attack along Kiretch Tepe Sirt (15–17 Aug.), 329–31;
withdrawn to rest, 338 _n._ 2.
6th Munster Fusiliers--capture Jephson’s Post (7 Aug.), 310;
storm the Pimple (15 Aug.), 330–1.
7th Munster Fusiliers, 310.
6th Royal Dublin Fusiliers--with Brig.-Gen. F. F. Hill, 295;
advance on Chocolate Hill (7 Aug.), 306–9;
storm the Pimple (15 Aug.), 330–1.
7th Royal Dublin Fusiliers--with Brig.-Gen. F. F. Hill, 295;
advance on Chocolate Hill, 306–9.
31st Brigade--arrival from Mitylene, 295;
withdrawn from Green Hill (10 Aug.), 324;
attack on Kiretch Tepe Sirt (15–17 Aug.), 329;
Lt.-Col. King-King in command of, 332;
withdrawn to rest (17 Aug.), 338 _n._ 2.
5th Inniskilling Fusiliers--landed at Suvla Point, 304;
with Mahon (7 Aug.), 310;
on Kiretch Tepe Sirt (15–17 Aug.), 330.
6th Inniskilling Fusiliers--advance on Chocolate Hill (7 Aug.),
306–9;
(8 Aug.), 319;
on Kiretch Tepe Sirt (15–17 Aug.), 330.
5th Royal Irish Fusiliers--advance on Chocolate Hill (7 Aug.),
306–9;
(8 Aug.), 319;
almost exterminated, 331.
6th Royal Irish Fusiliers--advance on Chocolate Hill (7 Aug.),
306–9;
(8 Aug.), 319;
almost exterminated, 331.
5th Royal Irish Pioneers, 295, 304, 310.
58th Brigade R.F.A., 296 _n._, 329.
11th (Northern) Division:
Composition of, 217 _n._ 1.
Evacuation of, 392.
Guns attached to, 295–6 _n._
Hamilton’s design for landing of, 298.
Imbros, at (6 Aug.), 225–6.
Improvement of, 361.
Inexperience of, 293.
Scimitar Hill attack (21 Aug.), 338 ff.
Tenth Division battalions mixed up with (7 Aug.), 304.
Xeros shore and Kiretch Tepe Sirt held by, 390 _n._
32nd Brigade--landing of, at Suvla (6 Aug.), 300;
inaction of (7 Aug.), 302–3, 305–6, 308 _n._;
Hill to co-operate with, 305;
attack on Scimitar Hill (9 Aug.), 320;
error of 21 Aug., 341, 344;
elaborate entrenchments of, 390 _n._
9th W. Yorks--occupy Lala Baba (6 Aug.), 300;
at Hill 10, 302;
on Anafarta ridge, 318.
6th Yorks, 300.
33rd Brigade--landing of, at Suvla (6 Aug.), 300;
on Lala Baba, 302;
error of 21 Aug., 341–2, 344.
6th Lincolns and 6th Borderers--reinforce Hill’s column (7
Aug.), 307, 308 _n._;
storming of Chocolate Hill, 309;
withdrawn, 309;
attack on Scimitar Hill (9 Aug.), 320, 321.
34th Brigade--landing of, in Suvla Bay, 299, 300–1;
inaction of (7 Aug.), 302–3, 305–6, 308 _n._;
Hill to co-operate with, 305;
attack on Scimitar Hill (9 Aug.), 320;
Brig.-Gen. J. Hill in command of, 332;
attack of 21 Aug., 341.
9th Lancs. Fusiliers, 302.
11th Manchester, 301–2, 310.
6th E. York Pioneers, 317.
13th (Western) Division:
Arrival of, 200, 216.
Composition of, 216 _n._ 2.
Evacuation of, 392, 396.
Maude, Maj.-Gen. F. Stanley, in command of, 355.
Quality of, 361.
Sari Bair, allotted for, 225, 254, 255, 293;
casualties (7–10 Aug.), 283;
returned to IXth Army Corps at Suvla, 355.
Shaw, Maj.-Gen., invalided from, 333.
38th Brigade--quarters of, 204.
6th E. Lancs., 270.
6th S. Lancs.-Sari Bair, 265;
Chunak Bair and the supreme moment, 272–4;
disaster and retreat, 275–6.
6th Loyal N. Lancs.--Hill Q, 270–1;
relieve New Zealanders and Gloucesters on Rhododendron
Ridge (10 Aug.), 278–9;
overwhelmed, 279.
39th Brigade--Divisional Reserve at Sari Bair, 255.
9th Royal Warwicks, 216 _n._, 265, 268;
left without officers, 281.
7th Gloucesters--Sari Bair assault, 265–7:
attacked by Turks (9 Aug.), 277–8;
left without officers (10 Aug.), 281.
9th Worcesters, 216 _n._;
in support in Sari Bair attack, 265, 268, 272;
inactive, 276–7;
left without officers (10 Aug.), 281.
7th N. Staffords--in support in Sari Bair assault, 265, 268,
272;
inactive, 276–7;
attacked near Fusilier Bluff (7 Jan.), 403.
40th Brigade:
4th S. Wales Borderers--Sari Bair, 262;
fighting on 10 Aug., 283;
21 Aug., 349.
8th Royal Welsh Fusiliers, 245–6.
5th Wilts--Hill Q, 271;
relieve New Zealanders and Gloucesters on Rhododendron
Ridge (10 Aug.), 278–9;
“almost annihilated” (10 Aug.), 279.
8th Welsh Pioneers, 216 _n._ 2, 265–6.
29th Division:
Allotted for Dardanelles, 42;
delays, 42;
arrival at Malta, 63.
Battle of 6–8 May, 148 ff.
Casualties of, heavy, 147;
to 9 May, 157;
to 8 June, 178–9 and _n._
Composition of, 82.
Hamilton’s tribute to, 201.
Helles attack (6 Aug.), 225, 227.
Landing task of, 78–9.
Quality of, 127, 133, 201, 243;
of Territorial unit, 135.
Rested in brigades at Imbros, 362.
Scimitar Hill attack from Suvla (21 Aug.), 338 ff.;
back at Helles, 402.
86th Brigade--battle of 28 April, 133;
broken up among 87th and 88th Brigades, 147;
Scimitar Hill attack (21 Aug.), 344;
evacuation of, 391.
and Royal Fusiliers--at V Beach, 104, 105–6;
fighting of 4–6 June, 176, 178;
casualties of, 178–9;
28 June, 184;
sufferings in the blizzard (Nov.), 384–5.
1st Lancs. Fusiliers, 101–4.
1st Royal Munster Fusiliers--V Beach landing, 95–8;
storm Seddel Bahr, 127–8;
amalgamated into the “Dubsters,” 151.
1st Royal Dublin Fusiliers--V Beach landing, 94–6, 98;
storm Seddel Bahr, 127–8;
amalgamated into the “Dubsters,” 151.
87th Brigade--in the fight of 28 April, 133;
6–8 May, 150, 153, 154;
Scimitar Hill attack (21 Aug.), 343.
2nd S. Wales Borderers--at De Tott’s Battery, 91;
at Y Beach, 107–9;
battle of 8 May, 154;
casualties, 179 _n._;
28 June, 183.
1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers--at Implacable Landing, 106;
in the fight of 28 April, 133;
of 6–8 May, 150;
of 28 June, 183;
take Fusilier Bluff, 184.
1st Border Regt.--at Implacable Landing, 106;
in the fight of 28 April, 133;
of 28 June, 184.
88th Brigade--officer losses of, 99;
battles of 28 April, 133;
of 29 April, 135–6;
of 6–8 May, 150, 153;
of 4 June, 174;
Helles attack (6 Aug.), 227;
evacuation of, 392.
4th Worcester Regt.--W Beach landing, 103–4;
in the fight of 28 April, 133;
of 1 May, 136;
of 4 June, 174.
2nd Hampshire Regt.--V Beach landing, 95, 97–8;
storm Seddel Bahr, 127–8;
casualties of, 179.
1st Essex Regt.--W Beach landing, 103;
in fight of 1 May, 135;
of 6 Aug., 228.
5th Royal Scots (Territorial)--in fight of 1 May, 135;
6–8 May, 150.
87th and 88th Brigades, 29th Indian Infantry Brigade and Lancs.
Fusiliers added to, 147.
1st Newfoundlanders’ Battalion attached to, 361.
42nd (E. Lancs.) Division:
Brigades of 29th Division made up by, 147.
Composition of, 137 and _n._
Egypt, in, 70, 137.
Helles feint (6–7 Aug.), 225, 227–9.
Heroism of officer of, 402 _n._
Withdrawn for rest, 402.
125th Lancs. Fusiliers, 151, 153, 229.
126th E. Lancs.--split up among 29th Division (May), 159.
4th E. Lancs. Batt. at the Vineyard, 229.
127th Manchester Brigade--at Gurkha Bluff (12 May), 158;
battle of 4 June, 173–4;
the Vineyard (7 Aug.), 229;
quality of, 158, 174, 176.
52nd (Lowland Territorial) Division:
Arrival of, 180.
Composition of, 181 _n._
Helles, at (6 Aug.), 225.
Kereves Dere (12 July), 199.
Quality of, 181.
155th Brigade, 199.
156th Brigade--battle of 28 June, 185;
success of 15 Nov., 382.
157th Brigade--Kereves Dere (12 July), 199;
Krithia Nullah attack (19 Dec.), 402.
53rd (Welsh) Division, 225, 284:
Composition of, 218 _n._
Evacuation of, 391.
Improvement of, 361.
Salonika, for, 366.
Scimitar Hill attack (9 Aug.), 320;
renewed attack (10 Aug.), 323–4.
Sulajik-Kiretch Tepe line held by (21 Aug.), 339.
1/1st Hereford Batt., 321.
54th (E. Anglian) Division, 225, 284:
Anzac, brought to, 355.
Composition of, 218.
Improvement of, 361.
Sulajik-Kiretch Tepe line held by (21 Aug.), 339.
Suvla, ordered to (9 Aug.), 323;
landed (10–11 Aug.), 325.
162nd Brigade, 329–30.
163rd Brigade, 327–8.
2nd Mounted Division (Yeomanry):
Composition of, 338 _n._ 1.
Quality of, 337–8.
Scimitar Hill attack (21 Aug.), 345–6.
29th Indian Infantry Brigade:
Anzac, transferred to (4–5 Aug.), 225.
Arrival of, 134.
Godley’s tribute to, 284.
Health record of, 357.
Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 349.
Mule management by, 393 _n._
Reserve in battle of 7 May, 153.
Sari Bair, 254, 255, 262–3.
Turkish aeroplane messages to, 187–8, 370.
5th, 6th, and 10th Gurkhas--capture of Gurkha Bluff, 158;
battle of 4 June, 174;
of 28 June, 184;
of 2 July, 197;
Koja Chemen assault, 263, 268;
Chunuk Bair and the supreme moment, 272–4;
Disaster and retreat, 275–6;
battle of 21 Aug., 349;
evacuation of, 392, 393 _n._, 396.
14th Sikhs--in battle of 4 June, 174;
Koja Chemen assault, 263.
Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade, 254, 255.
Indian Mountain Battery--at Anzac landing, 116;
at Sari Bair, 254.
Lovat’s Scouts, 360–1.
Royal Engineers:
5th Anglesey Company, 391.
6th Company, 319.
Royal Field Artillery:
10th Battery, 197.
15th Heavy Battery, 329.
55th Brigade, 361.
56th Brigade, 361.
58th Brigade, 296 _n._, 329.
59th Brigade, 295 _n._
69th Brigade, 280.
4th Howitzer Lowland Brigade, 296 _n._
Royal Garrison Artillery--4th Highland Mountain Brigade, 296 _n._
Royal Naval Division:
Antwerp, at, 24, 148, 203.
Battle of 6–8 May, 149, 151, 153, 156.
Composition of, 84.
Feint at Karachali, 119–20.
French lines taken over by (Dec.-Jan.), 402.
Guns not with, 182.
Headquarters of, 131, 203.
Landing task of, 79.
Mudros, at, 68.
Port Said, at, 70.
Position of, on 6 Aug., 225.
Quality of, 148, 176, 203.
1st Naval Brigade:
Drake Batt., 133, 147, 149.
Nelson Batt., 138, 177, 199.
2nd Naval Brigade--part of French line taken over by (May), 137;
composite character of, after 4 June, 175 _n._:
Anson Batt., 89;
at V Beach landing, 94–5;
battle of 4 June, 173, 175 and _n._
Collingwood Batt., 175 and _n._
Hood Batt., 149 _n._;
reinforce the French, 147;
battle of 4 June, 173, 175 and _n._
Howe Batt.--reinforce the French, 147;
battle of 4 June, 173, 175 and _n._
3rd Naval Brigade:
Plymouth Batt., 89, 147;
at Y Beach, 107–8;
in battle of 6–8 May, 149.
Portsmouth Batt., 138–9.
Scottish Horse, 360–1.
South-Western Mounted Brigade, 361.
Brodrick, Lt.-Gen. St. John, 81.
Brooke, Rupert, 86–7.
Brooks, Mr., pictures by, xiii.
Brown, Col., 233.
Browne, Col. R. S., 352 _n._ 1.
Brown’s Dip, 233.
Bruce. Lt.-Col. the Hon. C. G., 158.
Brulard, Gén., succeeds Gén. Bailloud, 193, 372;
succeeds Gén. Masnou, 202;
leaves guns to British VIIIth Corps, 401.
Buchan, Col. John, 366, 367 _n._
Bulair, Turkish reinforcements from (9 Aug.), 319.
Bulair landing, drawback to, 222.
Bulair lines, bombardment of (25 April), 119.
Bulair position, 75–6.
Bulgaria:
Central Powers, leaning to (May), 169;
Secret Treaty (July), 199;
Turkish Treaty signed, 364;
joins Central Powers (Oct.), 367–8;
effect of this adhesion, 381.
Forces of, available, 365.
Importance of attitude of, 55.
Overtures to, 194.
Paget’s Report on (17 March 1917), 55.
Serbia, animosity against, 55, 221, 364.
Burnt Hill. _See_ Scimitar Hill.
Burston, Col. J., 352 _n._ 1.
Burton, Col., 361.
Byng, Maj.-Gen. Sir Julian, 332, 361, 372, 395–6.
C Beach, 299, 392.
Callwell, Gen., quoted, 9–10, 41.
Camber Beach, 98.
Camouflage, 150.
Cannon, Lt.-Col., 268.
_Canopus_, 49, 119–20, 217.
Canteen ship (Sept.), 206, 357.
Carden, Lt.-Col. J., 279.
Carden, Vice-Adm. Sir Sackville, early bombardment by (Nov. 1914), 1;
views on forcing the Straits, 25;
memorandum on four stages, 32–3;
ships under (Feb. 1915), 48–50;
bombardment of the Forts, 51;
urges military co-operation, 58;
resigns, 58.
Carey. Lt.-Col. A. B., 84.
Carruthers, Brig.-Gen. R. A., 82.
Carson, Sir E., 378.
_Carthage_, 196.
Cass, Major, 154, 156.
Casson, Col., 91, 92, 133.
Casson, Brig.-Gen. H. G., 181 _n._
Casualties:
Anzac. _See under_ Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.
Figures--first ten days, 140;
end of May, 168 _n._;
4 June, 177;
28 June, 185;
to end of July, 216;
August, 358;
second week in August (Helles, Anzac, Suvla), 336;
21 August (Scimitar Hill), 346–7;
27–28 August, 354.
French. _See under_ French Expeditionary Corps.
Inadequate provision for, 118, 140–2, 213–14.
Officers (10 Aug.), 281.
Sickness, 406; (Sept.), 356.
10th Division (15 Aug.), 330, 331.
29th Division, 157.
Total, 406.
Cather, Lt., 164 _n._
Cayley, Brig.-Gen. W. de S., 216 _n._, 281.
Chadwick. Capt., 204.
Chailak Dere, 250, 254–6, 258, 260 _n._ 2, 271.
Champagne battle, 362–3.
Chanak, 52–3, 63 _n._
Chapman, Lt.-Col. A. E., 300, 352.
_Charlemagne_, 49, 52, 60.
_Chatham_, 298, 373.
Chatham’s Post, 231, 248.
Chauvel, Brig.-Gen. H. G., 83, 137, 242.
_Chelmer_, 256.
Chessboard, the, 191, 244–5.
Chocolate Hill (Yilghin Burnu)--description of, 287;
Hill’s capture of (7 Aug.), 306–9;
centre of Scimitar Hill attack (21 Aug.), 339;
shrapnel wound at, 341 _n._;
mentioned, 298, 335.
Christian, Rear-Adm. Arthur, 297.
Chunuk Bair:
“Chimney,” 247;
dead thrown over, 282–3.
Conformation of, 247.
Nek to southern shoulder of, 261.
South-west shoulder of, ours, 268.
Struggle for, defeated, 276–8, 323, 324.
Turkish attack from (10 Aug.), 280–1.
mentioned, 244, 254, 265.
Churchill, Maj. J. S. S., 81, 170.
Churchill, Rt. Hon. Winston, bombardment of 3 Nov. 1914 ordered by, 1;
scheme for Greek seizure of Gallipoli, 9;
project for the British expedition, 12–13;
position in the War Council, 21;
siege gun misconception of, 23–4, 33, 51;
communications with Carden, 24–5;
presses his scheme, 35;
urges Carden to press attack, 57–8;
proposed visit of, to Dardanelles, 214;
his defence of the expedition, 385–6, 409.
Clapham Junction, 132, 203.
Clifton Browne, Maj.-Gen., 361.
Clyfford, Lt.-Com., 382.
Collins, Col., 173 _n._
_Colne_, 256–7.
Constantine, King of Greece, disapproves Dardanelles campaign, 10–11;
reported desirous of war (March 1915), 56 and _n._ 1;
again opposed to alliance with Entente, 56 _n._ 2;
declines to assist Serbia, 365, 368;
stealthy neutrality of, 183;
mentioned, 11 _n._, 48.
Constantinople, dismay in (Feb. 1915), 144.
Cooper, Major Bryan, 306 _n._;
cited, 308 _n._
Cooper, Brig.-Gen. R. J., 217 _n._ 2, 281.
_Cornwallis_, 49, 52, 89, 91, 99, 164, 396.
Costeker, Capt., 97.
Costemalle, Comdt., 152 _n._ 2.
Courtney-Boyle, Lt.-Com. Edward, 145.
Courtney’s Post, 161, 188.
Cox, Maj.-Gen. Sir Herbert, captures Gurkha Bluff, 158;
Hill 60 attacks (21 Aug.), 349;
(27 Aug.), 353;
mentioned, 85, 134, 254, 255, 262, 268.
Creighton, Rev. O., cited, 170 _n._
Cretan “Andarti,” 225 and _n._ 1.
Crewe, Lord, 15;
cited, 28.
Cribb, Capt., 117.
d’Adhémar, Lt.-Col., 153 _n._
Dallas, Brig.-Gen., 390 _n._
d’Amade, Gén.-de-Div., 70, 84, 120, 159–60.
Damakjelik Bair (Hill 40), 255, 264, 349, 350, 355;
description of, 252;
S. W. Borderers’ storming of, 262.
Daniell, Brig.-Gen. F. F. W., 327.
D’Annunzio, 170.
Dardanelles:
Character of the Strait, 45–6.
Current in, 45.
View of, by Lancashires and Gurkhas (9 Aug.), 273.
Dardanelles campaign:
Advantages of, if successful, vii-viii, 22–3, 408–9.
Amphibious expedition considered, 41;
delays, 42–3, 52, 54, 57, 62–3.
Conditions of life in, 152.
Failure of, causes of, 406–8.
Force required for, early estimates of strength of, 10, 23, 40;
troops not available before April, 22, 33, 40;
actual strength in April, 85;
on 6 May, 147;
units engaged, _see_ (1) Australian and New Zealand Army Corps,
(2) British troops, _and_ (3) French Expeditionary Corps.
Justification of, 172.
Military attitude towards, 64–5.
Naval expedition alone ordered, 33;
British casualties, 62 _n._
Official attitude towards, 140, 142, 170 _n._, 181, 214, 336–7,
370, 377, 408–10.
Withdrawal from the Peninsula, ease of presupposed, 14, 23, 33.
“Dardanelles Committee,” 214 and _n._
Dardanus, Fort, 52–3, 59.
Davidson, Capt. A. P., xii, 92 and _n._
Davies, Lt.-Gen. Sir F. J., 201, 230, 372, 401.
Dawnay, Capt. G. P., 81.
de Bartolomé, Comdre., 26 _n._;
cited, 1, 32.
de Laborde, Lt., 81.
De Lisle, Maj.-Gen., takes command of 29th Division, 177;
congratulated, 20;
succeeds Stopford in command of IXth Corps, 332;
attack of 21 Aug., 338;
returns to 29th Division, 362.
de Lotbinière, Lt.-Col. A. C. Joly, 82, 296.
de Putron, Capt C., 81.
de Robeck, Vice-Adm., 59, 89, 297, 386.
de Sauvigny, Com. de Cav. Brev. Berthier, 81.
De Tott’s Battery (Eski Hissarlik), 107, 121;
landing at, 91;
taken over by the French, 130.
De Winton, 329.
Dead--built into barricades, 240;
thrown down Chunuk Bair “chimney,” 282–3.
Deedes, Capt. W. H., 81.
Descoins, Lt.-Col., 84.
Desruelles, Lt.-Col., 84.
Destroyer Hill, 260 _n._ 2.
Diet, monotony of, 205–6, 357.
Dillon, Dr. E. J., quoted, 379 _n._
Djemel Pasha, 72.
Dobbin, Col., 233.
_Doris_, 49.
Doughty-Wylie, Lt.-Col., 81, 99, 127–8 and _n._
Douglas, Maj.-Gen. Sir W., ii, 9, 70, 137, 201, 402;
the Vineyard, 230.
Downing, Col., 306 _n._
Drafts swamping original units, 358–9 and _n._
Drewry, Midshipman, 86.
_Dublin_, 49, 109, 158.
Duckworth, Adm., 31 _n._ 1, 59.
Edmonds, Flight-Lt., 362 _n._
Egerton, Maj.-Gen. G. G. A., 181, 200.
Egypt:
Anzacs in, 71.
Defences of, 12.
Kitchener’s concern for, 12, 41, 70–1, 379.
Egyptian labourers, 360.
Einstein, Lewis, cited, 147 _n._
Ejelmer-Anafarta line, Hamilton’s plan for seizing (9 Aug.), 322–3.
Ejelmer Bay, 290, 335, 388 _n._
Elliot, Brig.-Gen. G. S. M‘D., 81.
Elliott, Lt.-Col. G. C. E., 83, 239.
_Emden_, 72.
England, Com. Hugh T., 257.
Enos, 76, 221.
Enver Pasha, 4, 11, 13, 144, 145, 186, 190;
von Sanders’ subservience to, 198 _n._;
quoted, 62.
Erenkeui, 52, 61.
Erskine, Brig.-Gen. J. F., 181 _n._
Eski, the, 132.
Eski Hissarlik. _See_ De Tott’s Battery.
Eski Keui, 110.
_Europa_, 212.
_Euryalus_, 89, 101.
Evacuation of the Peninsula:
Anzac, at, 397 ff.
Birdwood’s successful accomplishment of, 381, 386.
Devices to conceal, 389, 394, 399, 405.
German estimate of, 400 _n._
Helles, at, 400 ff.
Numbers dealt with, 387 and _n._ 1.
Shell fire danger during, 393–4, 398.
Suvla, at, 390 ff.
Turkish bribery story, untruth of, 387 _n._ 2.
Evelegh, Col., 177 and _n._ 2.
Fahreddin, Lt.-Col., 163.
Fanshawe, Maj.-Gen. E. A., 332, 361, 390 _n._
Farm, the, Baldwin’s force deflected to, 271;
overwhelmed at (10 Aug.), 281;
Farm abandoned to the Turks, 281;
mentioned, 251, 261, 263, 270, 360.
Farquharson, Lt.-Col. H. D., 81.
Ferdinand, Tsar, 364.
Fisher, Lord, opposed to the naval scheme, 28–9, 32, 34–7;
reluctantly agrees, 36–8;
reinforces de Robeck, 62;
resigns, 170;
estimate of, 25.
Fisher, Andrew, 27.
Fishermen’s Huts, 114, 117, 250.
Flies, 192, 357.
Food, monotony of, 205–6, 357.
Forces engaged. _See_ (1) Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, (2)
British troops, _and_ (3) French Expeditionary Corps.
Forshaw, Lt. W. T., 230 _n._
Forsyth, Brig.-Gen., 242.
Fort No. 1, 100, 104.
Fortescue, Martin, cited, 62 _n._ 1.
Forts on the Dardanelles, 50.
_Foxhound_, 314, 329.
Frankland, Major, 103.
French Expeditionary Corps:
African troops of, 136, 147, 149, 151, 175.
Artillery of, 148, 153 _n._;
75’s lent to British, 173, 200, 401;
captured by Turks, 245, 263.
Casualties--(25 April), 121;
(21 June), 180;
in early July, 202;
figures not published, 216 _n._ 1.
Composition of, 84–5.
Engagements--feint at Kum Kali and Yenishehr, 120–1;
8 May (advance on Kereves Ridge), 156;
4 June, 174–5;
12 July, 199.
Evacuation of, 401.
Haricot Redoubt captured by, 179–80.
Health record of, 192.
Helles, at (6 Aug.), 225.
Landing at V Beach, 129;
task of, 80.
Position of, 131–2.
Relations of British with--friendly, 129, 30;
out of bounds to British, 129, 202.
Royal Naval Division reinforcing, 147;
substituted for, 401.
Strength of, middle of Aug., 336.
Tenedos the headquarters of, 166.
V Beach depôt constantly shelled, 196.
2nd Division:
Composition of, 152 _n._ 2.
Salonika, Bailloud’s contingent at, 366–7.
Freyberg, Brig.-Gen., xii.
Freyberg, Lt.-Com. Bernard, 120, 122.
Fullerton, Maj. (Surgeon), 237.
Fusilier Bluff, 184, 403.
Gaba Tepe, nature of, 109–10;
drawbacks to landing at, 78;
enemy guns on, 116;
effort to seize (4 May), 139;
mentioned, 53, 77.
Gallipoli:
Campaign. _See_ Dardanelles campaign.
Churchill’s scheme for Greek seizure of (Sept. 14), 9.
Enemy strength on (March), 68.
Routes across, 110.
Garside, Lt.-Col., 154 _n._ 2.
_Gaulois_, 49, 50, 52, 61.
George, Rt. Hon. D. Lloyd, 15, 56, 194 _n._;
cited, 28.
Gerard, Lt.-Col., 219.
German Officers’ Trenches, 190, 241.
Germans:
Atrocities by, 98.
Guns and ammunition supplied to Turkey by, 388–9, 400–1.
Turkish relations with. _See under_ Turkey.
Ghazi Baba, 289.
Gilleson, Capt. Rev., 351 _n._
Gillespie, Lt.-Col. F. M., 262, 283.
Giraudon, Col., 180 _n._ 1.
Glasgow. Maj. T. W., 243 _n._
Glenn, Capt., 391.
Glossop, Capt., 72.
_Gloucester_, 8.
Godley, Maj.-Gen. Sir Alex. J., xii, xiii, 70, 83, 138, 253, 256,
322, 380;
quoted on the 7–10 Aug. fighting, 284;
the Anzac evacuation, 400.
_Goeben_, 8–9 and _n._, 139, 177.
_Goliath_, 108, 109, 164.
Gouraud, Gen., 160, 172, 180, 193, 371.
_Grampus_, 329.
Grant, Capt., 119, 217, 351.
Grant, Rear-Adm. Heathcote, xii.
Great Sap, the. _See_ Long Sap.
Greece:
British support of, in 1897 campaign, 2.
Cyprus offered to, 368.
Dardanelles bombardment as affecting, 55–6.
Forces available in, 365.
Russian jealousy of, 11, 56.
Salonika. _See that heading._
Greek “Andarti,” 225 and _n._
Green Hill (Hill 50), description of, 287;
next to Chocolate Hill, 309;
held by Hill’s Brigade (10 Aug.), 324, 335;
confusion between Sulajik and, 326.
Green Knoll, 390 _n._
Greene, Sir Graham, 26 _n._
Grey, Sir Edward, 14, 35;
cited on experts, 2–8;
quoted on the Balkan situation, 366.
Gully Beach--conformation of, 106–7;
deserted by Turks, 130;
evacuation from, 402–5.
Gully Ravine (Saghir Dere), nature of, 106–7;
Turkish snipers in, 149;
counter-attacks down, 178;
gains in (28 June), 185;
Turkish attack on (2 July), 197;
success near (15 Nov.), 382;
mentioned, 108, 131, 150.
Gurkha Bluff, 159.
Gurkhas. _See under_ British troops--29th Indian Infantry Brigade.
Gwynn, Lt.-Col. C. W., 332 _n._ 1.
Haggard, Brig.-Gen. H., 217 _n._ 1, 295, 299;
seriously wounded, 307, 308 _n._ 1.
Haldane, Lord, 17;
cited, 28.
Hamilton, Sir Bruce, 201.
Hamilton, Gen. Sir Ian--Kitchener’s orders to, 63, 64;
arrives at Tenedos, 63;
in Egypt, 69–70;
address to his forces, 85;
decides against withdrawal, 124;
Order of 29 April, 134;
Administrative Staff of, delayed in Egypt, 141;
Orders of 9 May, 156;
of 12 May, 157;
headquarters on Imbros, 166–7;
Order of 25 May, 167–8;
orders assault of 4 June, 172;
vain attempts at white flag truce, 178;
refuses burial armistice, 198;
eulogy of 29th Division 201;
Order of 5 Aug., 226 and _n._;
approves design of Sari Bair attack, 253;
scheme for landing at Nibrunesi Point, 298;
congratulates Stopford on achievements of 7 Aug., 311;
visits Stopford, 315;
urges on Hammersley the need for prompt action, 316;
returns to the _Arno_, 318;
plan for seizing Ejelmer-Anafarta line (9 Aug.), 322–3;
orders consolidation of existing line (10 Aug.), 324–5;
repeatedly frustrated by Corps Commander and Divisional Generals,
326–8;
asks for further reinforcements (16 Aug.), 336;
refused, 337, 363;
attitude towards evacuation, 371;
superseded by Birdwood, 372;
farewell special Order, 372;
leaves Gallipoli, 373;
effect of his recall, 374;
career of, 65–6;
estimate of, 66–7;
troops under, _see_ Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, _and_
British troops;
acknowledgments to, xii.
Hammersley, Maj.-Gen. Fred., 11th (Northern) Division under, 217, 293;
career of, 294;
orders Hill to co-operate with Sitwell’s Brigade, 305;
inaction of (8 Aug.), 316;
orders 6th E. York Pioneers from Scimitar Hill, 317;
retires from command of 11th Division, 332;
mentioned, 321.
Hankey, Col. Sir Maurice, 214;
cited, 28.
Hare, Brig.-Gen. S. W., 82, 89, 102.
Haricot Redoubt, 175, 179–80.
Harris, Lt.-Col. H., 190.
Hautville, Lt.-Col., 152 _n._ 2.
Headquarters--on _Queen Elizabeth_, 89, 123;
on the _Arcadian_, 142;
at Kephalos Bay, 166–7;
farther inland, 167.
Hell Spit, 112.
Helles:
Aeroplane landing at, 218.
Evacuation of, 401–5.
Feint at (6 Aug.), 227–31.
Shelling of, perpetual, 157, 171.
Storm havoc at (27 Nov.), 383.
Turkish troops opposite (Dec.), 389 _n._
Helles, Cape:
Fort on, bombarded (19 Feb.), 50, 51;
bombardment to cover landing, 91;
the landings, 100, 102, 103;
French railway to, 129.
Hendry, Brig.-Gen. R. W., 181 _n._
_Henri IV._, 62.
Herbert, Lt.-Col. A. H., 254.
Hetman Chair, 286, 341.
Higher Commands, influence of, 226.
Hill, Brig.-Gen. F. F., arrival of, from Mitylene and landing (7
Aug.), 295, 303–4;
under Hammersley’s orders, 305;
on Chocolate Hill (9–10 Aug.), 319, 324;
invalided and succeeded by Lt.-Col. J. G. King-King, 332, 338 _n._
2;
estimate of, 308;
mentioned, 217 _n._ 1.
Hill, Brig.-Gen. J., 332, 341.
Hill 10, 289, 302.
Hill 40. _See_ Damakjelik Bair.
Hill 50. _See_ Green Hill.
Hill 60 (Kaiajik Aghala)--situation of, 252;
Turkish possession of, 336;
attacks on (21 Aug.), 348 ff.;
(27 Aug.), 353–4;
importance of, 348.
Hill 70. _See_ Scimitar Hill.
Hill 112. _See_ W Hill.
Hill 114, storming of, 105.
Hill 138, 102.
Hill 141, capture of, 103–4.
Hill 971. _See_ Koja Chemen Tepe.
Hill Q, 247–8, 263–5.
Hill W. _See_ W Hill.
Hobbs, Col. J. J. T., 83.
Holbrook, Lt., 45.
Holmes, Brig.-Gen. W., 352 _n._
Hordern, Rev. A. C., 81.
Hornby, Adm., 31 _n._ 1.
Hospital camps, 358.
Hospital ship accommodation inadequate, 118.
Howse, Col. N. R., 118, 124.
Hughes. Brig.-Gen. F. G., 84;
attack of 30 June, 191;
the Nek, 244, 246.
Hughes, Col. J. G., 260.
_Humber_, 234.
Hunter-Weston, Maj.-Gen., 70, 176;
battle of 28 June, 182;
breakdown of (July), 200–1.
Hurd, Archibald, cited, 26 _n._, 40 _n._
_Hythe_, 382.
Iero inlet, 217.
Imbros:
Aeroplane camp at, 218–19.
Birdwood’s H.Q. at, 381.
Greek vendors at, 205.
Description of, 165–6.
Strategic value of, 401.
_Implacable_, 62, 89;
at X Beach, 105–6.
“Implacable Landing,” 105.
_Indefatigable_, 29.
Indian Brigade. _See under_ British troops--29th Indian Infantry
Brigade.
_Inflexible_, 48–9, 59–61.
Inglefield, Maj.-Gen. F. S., 325, 327, 335 _n._, 355, 361.
Iram Chai. _See_ Asmak Dere.
_Irresistible_, 49, 51, 60–1.
Irvine, Maj., 126.
Ismail Oglu Tepe (Hill 112). _See_ W Hill.
Istomine, Gen., 169.
Italy--declares war on Austria, 56, 170;
Isonzo victories, 194.
Jackson, Adm. Sir Henry, Memorandum of, on proposed naval attack,
30–1;
memorandum to Carden (Feb.), 42;
succeeds Lord Fisher, 170;
cited, 1;
quoted, 31;
mentioned, 26.
Jackson, Brig.-Gen. R. W. M., 81, 213.
_Jeanne d’Arc_, 120.
Jenkinson, Capt., 178–9.
Jephson, Maj., 310, 330.
Jephson’s Post--height of, 290;
storming of, 310;
farthest point held by British, 311, 331.
Jerrold, Lt. Douglas, xii.
Jewish Refugee Mule Corps. _See_ Zionists.
Johnston, Brig.-Gen. F. E., 83, 154, 254, 260.
Johnston, Lt.-Col. G. N., 83.
Johnston, Brig.-Gen. Napier, 349.
“Johnston’s Jolly,” 233 and _n._, 238.
_Jonquil_, 297.
Jourdain, Lt.-Col., 282 _n._, 349.
Kaba Kuyu, 348, 353.
Kaiajik Aghala. _See_ Hill 60.
Kaiajik Dere, 252, 350.
Kangaroo Beach, 325 _n._
Karachali, feint at (25 April), 119;
(6 Aug.), 225.
Karakol Dagh, 395;
description of, 290;
cleared by 11th Manchesters (7 Aug.), 301–2, 310;
Corps H.Q. at, 343;
Kitchener’s visit to, 380.
Kartal Tepe, 290–1.
Kasa Dere. _See_ Asmak Dere.
Kastro, 166.
Kavak Tepe--height of, 291;
Hamilton’s proposed occupation of, 322, 326, 328;
Turkish emplacements behind, 388.
Kazlar Chair, 286.
Keble, Lt.-Col. A. E. C., 82;
in charge of arrangements for wounded, 141.
Kelly, Surg. P. B., 97 _n._
Kelly, Sapper Stephen, 206.
Kenna, Brig.-Gen. F. A., 338 _n._ 1, 347.
Kephalos Bay:
Hospital camps at, 358.
Storm at (27 Nov.), 383.
Suvla, compared with, 335.
11th Division at, 226.
Kephalos, Cape, 165.
Kephez Point, 52, 86.
Kereves Dere--effort to reach (28 April), 131, 133;
French capture of redoubt at (4 June), 175;
French gain (21 June), 180;
redoubt captured by 157th Brigade, 199.
Kereves Ridge, 156.
Keshan, 76.
Keyes, Commodore Roger, xii, 80, 297, 313, 322.
Kilid Bahr, 52–3;
fortifications of, 110, 118;
Turkish drill ground, 208.
King-King, Lt.-Col. J. G., 332, 338 _n._ 2.
Kiretch Tepe Sirt--description of, 290;
10th Division on (10 Aug.), 324;
their advance along (15–17 Aug.), 329–31;
flood water from (27 Nov.), 383;
mentioned, 298, 300, 303, 335.
Kitchener, Lord, concern of, for Egypt, 12, 41, 70–1, 379;
opposed to Gallipoli Expedition (Nov. 1914), 13, 14;
agrees to naval attack, 14, 24, 33, 36;
orders to Hamilton, 63, 64, 85, 222;
telegraphs for estimated loss by evacuation, 371;
visits Mudros and Gallipoli, 378–9;
opposed to evacuation, 378;
converted to it, 379, 381;
estimate of, 15–18;
his masterful way, 18 and _n._, 43.
Koe, Col. (K.O.S.B.), 108.
Koe, Brig.-Gen. F. W. B., 81, 213.
Koe, Brig.-Gen. L. C., 181 _n._
Koja Chemen Tepe (Hill 971), 127;
situation of, and approach to, 244, 248, 251–2;
assault on, ordered (8 Aug.), 255, 263, 265, 268.
Koja Dere, 115, 118, 388 _n._
Krene, 296, 313.
Krithia, 108, 185;
situation of, 131;
effort to reach (28 April), 131, 133.
Krithia Nullah, 402.
Kuchuk Anafarta. _See_ Anafarta Sagir.
Kuchuk Kemikli. _See_ Nibrunesi Point.
Kum Kali, 50, 51, 54, 180 _n._ 1;
French capture of (25 April), 121–2.
Kut-el-Amara, 378.
Lala Baba--situation of, 287;
shelter from, for Nibrunesi landing, 298, 392;
Turkish forces on, 299;
Turkish fire from, on Suvla Bay, 301;
stormed by British (6 Aug.), 300;
British guns on and behind (9 Aug.), 296 _n._, 321.
Lancashire Landing. _See_ W Beach.
Lancashire names, 203.
Land mines, 301, 308, 310.
Landings of 25 April, results of, 121–2.
Lansdowne, Lord, cited, 377.
Larissa (1897), 365.
Lawrence, Maj.-Gen. H. A., 181;
succeeds Egerton, 200;
Helles evacuation, 403.
Leane, Maj., 231.
Lee, Gen. Noel, 176.
Legge, Maj.-Gen. J. G., 352.
Lemberg, fall of, 193.
Levick, Staff-Surgeon, xii, 213–14.
Levinge, Lt.-Col. H. G., 279.
Libau, German seizure of, 169.
Lindley, Maj.-Gen., 323, 332.
Lister, Charles, 87.
Little Anafarta. _See_ Anafarta Sagir.
Little Table Top, 251, 260.
Lloyd, Lt. E. E. L., 190.
Lockyer, Capt., 105.
Logan, Maj., 242.
_London_, 62, 90, 111.
Lone Pine, 232–41.
Long Sap or Great Sap, The, 117, 250, 256.
Longford, Brig.-Gen. Lord, 338 _n._ 1, 347.
Loos, 337, 362–3.
_Lord Nelson_, 48–9, 52, 53, 59, 91, 165.
_Lord Raglan_, 9 _n._
Lorrimer, Surg., 214.
Lotbinière. _See_ de Lotbinière.
Louis of Battenberg, Prince, 26.
Lovat’s Scouts, 360–1.
“Lowland” Division. _See_ British troops--52nd Division.
Lula Burgas, 146–7.
Lynden-Bell, Maj.-Gen., 372.
M‘Cay, Brig.-Gen. J. W., 83, 154.
M‘Donald, Lt.-Col. T. W., 154 _n._ 1.
M‘Grigor, Brig.-Gen. C. R., 81.
Mackenzie, Compton, 222, 224;
cited, 180 _n._ 2.
Mackenzie, Sir Thomas, 27.
Mackesy, Lt.-Col., 257.
Maclagan, Col. E. G. Sinclair, 83, 89.
Maclagan’s Ridge, 113–14.
McLaurin, Col. H. N., 83, 116, 126.
McLaurin’s Hill, 116, 117, 125.
McMahon, Sir H., 378.
Macnaghton, Col., 233.
McNicol, 154 _n._ 2.
Mahon, Lt.-Gen. Sir Bryan T., career of, 294;
in command of 10th (Irish) Division, 217;
landing of, at Suvla Point, 304, 310;
attack on Kiretch Tepe Sirt, 310;
on ridge from W Hill, 322;
attack of 15–17 Aug., 329;
mentioned, 293, 303.
_Majestic_, 48–9, 53, 86, 111;
forcing of the Narrows, 60;
torpedoed, 164, 170 _n._
Malcolm, Col. Neil, 316.
Malleson, Midshipman, 96.
Mallet, Sir Louis, 11.
Malone. Lt.-Col. W. G., on Rhododendron Ridge, 265–8, 278;
estimate of, 154 _n._ 1, 189.
_Manitou_, 80 _n._
Maps, xiii, 111.
Margesson, Maj., 92.
Marinetti, 170.
Marshall, Maj.-Gen. J. W. R., xii, 82, 182 and _n._;
wounded at the landing, 106;
commanding 29th Division, 332, 338;
improvement of 53rd Division under, 361.
Martyn, Maj., 239.
Masefield, John, cited, 152 _n._ 1.
Masnou, Gén., 84, 202.
Matthews, Col., 108.
Maude, Lt.-Gen. Sir F. Stanley, xii, 182 _n._, 332, 355;
directs evacuation at Nibrunesi Point, 396;
evacuation of 13th Division, 403–4;
estimate of, 361.
Maxwell, Maj.-Gen. Sir John, 70, 137, 378.
Maxwell, Brig.-Gen. R. P., 217 _n._ 1, 295, 299, 307;
attack on Scimitar Hill (9 Aug.), 319–21;
on Chocolate Hill (10 Aug.), 324.
Maxwell, Capt. William, 81.
Mehmed v., Sultan, 6, 144.
Mercer, Maj.-Gen. Sir D., xii, 84.
_Messoudieh_, 45.
Millbanke, Sir John, 347.
Milner, Lord, quoted, 377.
Mine-sweepers, 53.
Mines in the Dardanelles, 61–2;
land mines, 301, 308, 310.
_Minneapolis_, 297 _n._
_Minnetonka_, 212–13.
_Minnewaska_, 90.
Minogue, Col. J. O’B., 308 _n._
Mitrofanoff, Prof., quoted, 6.
Mitylene, half 10th Division stationed at, 215;
scare at, arranged, 222, 224.
Monash, Brig.-Gen. J., 83, 138, 262–3;
Sari Bair, 268;
orders construction of subterranean galleries (Nov.), 382.
Monash Gully, 117, 138, 188, 243;
Turkish failure at, 192.
Monitors, 214–15.
Monro, Gen. Sir Charles, appointed to supersede Hamilton, 372;
report of, on Gallipoli, 375–6;
Lord Ribblesdale’s public disclosure of it, 378 _n._;
consultation with Kitchener, 378;
H.Q. of, on the _Aragon_, 381;
hands over command to Murray, 401 _n._ 2.
Moore, Lt.-Col., 268, 317, 319.
Morse, Lt. John A. V., 97 _n._
Morto Bay, 78, 79, 91;
situation of, 92–3.
Mudros harbour--description of, 47;
crowding at, 80;
hospital camps above, 212, 358.
Mudros village, 212.
Murray, Gen. Sir Archibald, 401 _n._ 2.
Murray, Sir James Wolfe, 18, 26, 33;
quoted, 18 _n._
Mustard Plaster, the, 261.
Naismith, Lt.-Com. Eric, 145.
Nameless Hill. _See_ Hill Q.
Napier, Brig.-Gen. H. E., 82, 97.
Narrows, the--description of, 45;
forcing of, attempted, 59;
capture and loss of hill commanding (9 Aug.), 273–6.
Naval bombardments of Nov. 1914 and Feb. 1915, 50 ff.
Naval guns, flat trajectory of, 51, 275;
bush fire started by, 303 and _n._;
help from (9 Aug.), 322.
Nek, the (from Russell’s Top), situation of, 243;
Shrapnel Gully under fire from, 126;
attack of 30 June, 191–2;
fighting of 7 Aug., 243–6;
blocking of, at evacuation, 399.
Nek of Rhododendron Ridge. _See_ Rhododendron Ridge Nek.
Neuve Chapelle, 23, 33, 43, 87.
Newenham, Lt.-Col., 105, 106.
Nibrunesi Point, 249, 286;
Hamilton’s scheme for landing Suvla force south of, 298–9;
evacuation from, 392, 396.
Nicholas, Tsar, 363.
Nicholson, Rear-Adm. Stuart, 164.
Nicol, Brig.-Gen. L. L., 217 _n._ 1, 295, 310.
No. 1 Post. _See_ Fishermen’s Huts.
No. 2 Post, 250, 255–6, 264;
howitzers near (9 Aug.), 275.
No. 3 Post, 250, 255.
Noguès, Lt.-Col., 85, 120, 180 _n._ 1.
Notes quoted, 202–4, 207–10, 359, 360, 385 _n._
Nunn, Lt.-Col. M. H., 281.
_Ocean_, 49, 52, 53, 60, 61.
Ocean Beach, 117, 243–4, 251;
hospital camps along, 358;
evacuation from, 397, 398.
Officers, shortage of, 336, 338 _n._ 2, 376.
Old A Beach, 299.
Old No. 3 Post, 250, 254;
capture of (6 Aug.), 256–7, 264.
Oliver, Vice-Adm. Sir Henry, 26, 32.
Ollivant, Lt.-Col. A. H., 84.
Onslow, Lt. B. W., 210.
Orkhanieh, 50.
O’Sullivan, Capt., 347 _n._
Paget, Gen., report of, on Bulgarian attitude, 55.
Panaghia, 165.
Paris, Maj.-Gen. A., 24, 70, 84, 154.
Parker, Lt.-Col., 254.
Patterson, Col. J. H., 71 _nn._
Peirse, Vice-Adm., 54.
Pelliot, Lt., 81.
Peshall, Rev. C. J. C., xii.
Peyton, Maj.-Gen. Wm., 337 and _n._
_Phido_, 296.
Philippe, Lt.-Col., 84.
Phillimore, Adm., 210.
Pike, Col., 307.
Pimple, the, height of, 290;
stormed by Munsters and Dublins, 330–1;
Turkish entrenchments opposite, 232;
Suvla pier commanded by, 392 _n._
Plugge, Lt.-Col. A., 154 _n._ 1.
Plugge’s Plateau, 112, 117.
Plunkett, Maj. E. A., 81.
Poison gas--Germans’ earliest use of, 87;
rumours of Turkish use of, not substantiated, 382 _n._
Pollen, Capt. S. H., 81.
Pollok-M‘Call, Lt.-Col., 181 _n._
Pope, Lt.-Col. H., 126, 188, 268.
Pope’s Hill, 117, 125, 188;
value of, 126;
fighting of 7 Aug., 241–3.
_Prah_, 296, 313.
Price, G. Ward, cited, 367 _n._ 2.
Pridham, Lt.-Col. G. R., 83.
_Prince George_, 49, 53, 59–60, 404.
_Prince of Wales_, 62, 90, 111.
Przemysl, captured by Russians, 87;
fall of, 169, 172, 193.
_Queen_, 62, 90, 111.
_Queen Elizabeth_, 33 and _n._ 1, 48–49;
the preliminary bombardments, 51–3;
the forcing of the Narrows, 59;
general headquarters, 89, 123;
assisting at V Beach and Anzac Cove, 99, 124–5;
sinks a transport, 139;
sent home, 165.
Quilter, Col. Arnold, 86–7.
Quinn, Maj., 126 and _n._ 2, 189.
Quinn’s Post, situation of, 189, 360;
holding of, 126;
danger of, 189;
assault of 19 May, 161;
fighting of 7 Aug., 241–3;
mentioned, 117, 125, 138, 188.
Rabbit Island, 61;
monitors off, 215.
Radoslavoff, M., 364.
Rankine, Maj., 268.
Reed, Brig.-Gen. H. L., 297, 332, 395.
Regimental spirit, 179.
Reinforcements:
Arrival of--29th Indian Infantry Brigade, 134;
42nd East Lancashire Division, 137, 172;
52nd Division (mid June), 172;
13th and 11th Divisions (July), 200, 216–17;
Yeomanry (Aug.), 337;
(Sept.), 360–1.
Denial of, 130, 363;
10 per cent. drafts refused, 127.
Insufficiency of, 192.
_Reshadie_, 7–8.
Rhododendron Ridge or Spur (Canterbury Ridge), situation of, 250;
7 August attacks on, 260–1, 263, 266, 270;
annihilation of 5th Wilts on (10 Aug.), 279–80;
subterranean galleries made through, 382.
Rhododendron Ridge Nek, 258, 261, 264;
Turkish attack on New Zealanders near, 277–8.
Ribblesdale, Lord, 377–8 and _n._
Richardson, Brig.-Gen., xii;
maps of, xiii.
Rifaat, Col., 187.
_River Clyde_ at the landings, 94–5, 98–9;
breakwater at V Beach, 129;
mentioned, 164 _n._, 404, 405, 410.
Roberts, Col., 173 _n._
Robertson, Lt.-Com. Eric, 86.
Romieux, Maj., 84, 202.
Ross, Malcolm, 119 _n._, 258.
Roumania, 408.
Routine, 297 _n._
Royal Engineers, R.F.A., and R.N.D. _See under_ British troops.
Ruef, Col., 85, 152 _n._ 2.
Russell, Maj.-Gen. Sir A. H., xii, 83, 191, 254, 349, 352 _n._;
the Hill 60 attack (27 Aug.), 353.
Russell’s Top, 191;
7 August fighting, 241, 243–4;
Kitchener’s visit to, 380.
Russia:
British rapprochement with, 2.
Bulgaria, ultimatum to, 367.
Difficulties of (Dec.-Jan. 1914–15), 13–14;
reverses of May, 168–9;
further disasters (Aug. and Sept.), 363.
Failure to support Allies, 171, 193, 198, 221;
collapse in Poland, 224;
co-operation of, despaired of, 336.
Greece, attitude towards, 11, 56.
Ryan, Col. C. S., 82.
Ryrie, Col. G. de L., 84.
Saghir Dere. _See_ Gully Ravine.
Salonika:
Dardanelles campaign as affected by, 367, 369.
French and British troops in, 367–9.
Mahon in command at, 381.
Salt Lake, description of, 289;
“cut” into, 325 _n._;
plain round, in British possession, 335;
flood of Nov., 383–4;
mentioned, 286, 288.
Samson, Com. Ch., 218.
Samson, Seaman Geo. M‘Kenzie, 97 _n._
_Sapphire_, 49, 108, 109.
Sari Bair, 77, 79;
conformation of, 110, 247–8.
Sari Bair assault:
Battalions fighting with loss of all officers, 267.
Failure of, 285;
causes, 333–4.
Forces available for, 253–5.
Gains achieved by, 334–5.
Geographical points in, 250–2.
Left assaulting column, 262–4;
reinforced, 265, 272;
exploits of (8 Aug.), 268–70;
triumph and disaster, 272–6;
supports inactive, 272, 276–7.
Left covering force, 262.
Nature of the ground, 252.
Naval assistance, 265.
Right assaulting column, 254, 260–1;
reinforced, 265;
exploits of (7–8 Aug.), 265–8;
third column to co-operate with (8 Aug.), 271;
attacked on 9 Aug., 277–8.
Right covering force, 254, 256–60.
Suvla forces’ help relied on, 264;
not forthcoming, 269, 279, 285, 311, 312, 323, 408.
Third assaulting column, 270–1.
Sari Bair Ravine, 244, 248.
Sarrail, Gen., 362, 367.
_Saturnia_, 213.
Sazli Beit Dere, 250, 254, 256.
Schuler, Phillip, 73 _n._;
cited, 119 _n._, 245 _n._, 351 _n._;
quoted on shelling of Allanson’s force, 274 _n._
Scimitar Hill (Burnt Hill, Hill 70), situation and importance of, 288;
occupied by 6th E. York Pioneers (8 Aug.), 317;
abandoned (8 Aug.), 317;
Turkish snipers’ occupation of, 319;
Maxwell’s attack on (9 Aug.), 320–1;
fire on (9 Aug.), 320–1;
renewed attack (10 Aug.), 323–4;
assault of 21 Aug., 339 ff.;
captured, 343;
lost, 346.
Scobie, Col., 233.
_Scorpion_, 182, 197, 314.
Scott, Lt.-Col. P. C., 81.
Scott-Moncrieff, Brig.-Gen., 181 _n._, 185.
Scottish Horse, 360–1.
Sea-planes, 218, 362 _n._
Seddel Bahr, 50, 79, 93, 202;
capture of, 127–8;
Kitchener’s visit to, 379.
Senegalese troops, 136, 147, 149, 151, 175.
Senussi, 379.
Senussi expedition, 337 _n._
Serbia:
Bulgarian animosity against, 55, 221, 364.
“Corridor” through, 5, 6.
Forces available in, 365.
Peril of (Sept.), 364–6.
Rout of, 369 _n._;
hopelessness of position (Oct.), 376, 378.
Seymour, Com. Claude, 256.
Sexton, Maj. M. J., 81.
Shaw, Maj.-Gen. F. C., 200, 254, 255, 283, 332.
Shelford, Capt. Thos., 164.
Shera, Capt., 259.
Shortage of:
Artillery, 148, 171, 181, 184, 192, 193, 194 _n._, 219, 228, 229,
339, 361;
anti-aircraft shortage, 219.
Ammunition, 133, 148, 171, 181, 185, 192, 193, 194 _n._, 200, 219,
229.
Officers, 336, 338 _n._ 2, 376.
Shrapnel Gully, 114;
Anzac position on, 125;
sniper danger in, 126;
dangerous apex at, 138, 161, 188;
mentioned, 116, 117, 243.
Sickness:
Casualties, 406.
Diarrhœa, 185, 205, 313, 356.
Dysentery, 313, 353, 356, 359.
Signal station destroyed, 196 _n._
Sikhs. _See under_ British troops--29th Indian Infantry Brigade.
“Silver Babies,” 219.
Simonin, Gén., 152 _n._ 2.
Sitwell, Brig.-Gen. W. H., commanding 34th Brigade of 11th Division,
217 _n._ 1;
misses his opportunity (7 Aug.), 302–3;
Hill ordered to co-operate with, 305;
in sole command of 34th and 32nd Brigades, 307;
succeeded by Brig.-Gen. J. Hill, 332;
mentioned, 295, 299.
Skeen, Brig.-Gen. A., 82, 253.
Skouloudis, M., 11 _n._
Smith, 2nd Lt. A. V., 402 _n._
Smith, Col. Carrington, 99.
Smith, Brig.-Gen. S. C. V., 298.
Smyrna Forts, 54.
Smyrna-Panderma Railway, 146, 221, 222.
Smyth, Brig.-Gen. N. M., 233.
Soghandere, Fort, 59.
Sonnino, Baron, 56.
_Southland_, 355 _n._
Spearman, Commodore, 175.
Sphinx, the, 113, 262.
_Stamboul_, 146 _n._
Staveley, Capt. C. M., 404.
Steel’s Post, 188, 241.
Stewart, Col. Crauford, 173 _n._
Stewart, Lt.-Col. D. M., 154 _n._ 1.
Stopford, Lt.-Gen. Sir Frederick, career and reputation of, 292;
arrival of, 201;
plan for 10th Division, 303;
satisfied with achievements of 7 Aug., 311;
visited by Hamilton (8 Aug.), 315;
constructing Corps H.Q. (9 Aug.), 322;
renews attack on Scimitar Hill (10 Aug.), 323;
ordered to consolidate line, 324–5;
demands 24 hours’ delay before advance on Kavak and Tekke, 326;
still raises objections (13 Aug.), 328;
orders advance by 10th Division (15 Aug.), 329;
gives up command (15 Aug.), 332;
leadership of, 226, 334;
mentioned, 297, 299.
Street, Staff-Capt., 281.
Striedinger, Maj. O., 81.
Stürmer, Dr. H., quoted, 63 _n._, 376 _n._;
cited, 147 _n._
Submarines:
Australian (AE2), 146 _n._
British:
E11, 145–6 and _n._, 318 _n._
E14, 145–6 and _n._, 318 _n._
E15, 86.
E20, 382.
Marmora Sea invaded, 145–6 and _n._
Turkish transport sunk (7 Sept.), 362 _n._
Enemy:
Achievements of, 163–6.
_Carthage_ torpedoed, 196.
Evacuation complicated by, 404.
U51, 164.
Suez Canal, 41, 72.
_Suffren_, 49, 50, 52, 53, 60.
Sulajik, 291, 318–19, 326.
_Sultan Osman_, 7–8.
Surprise Gully, 232.
Suvla:
Kitchener’s visit to, 380.
Land mines in, 301, 308, 310.
Storm havoc at, 383.
Turkish troops opposite (Dec.), 388 _n._
Suvla Bay:
Conformation of, 288;
rocky hills about, 247, 289.
Drawbacks to, for April landing, 77. Hinterland of, 77, 291–2.
Roadstead of, better than Kephalos, 335.
Water supply near, 292.
Suvla forces:
Activities of--6–7 Aug., 295–311;
7–8 Aug., 311–18;
8–9 Aug., 318–23;
9–10 Aug., 323–5;
10–11 Aug., 325–6;
11–12 Aug., 326–8.
Confusion among, 300–2, 304, 315, 324, 325–6, 333, 342, 344–5, 408;
mixture of brigades, 320.
Co-operation of, relied on for Sari Bair assault, 264;
not forthcoming, 269, 279, 285, 311, 312, 323, 408.
Evacuation of, 387 and _n._ 1, 390 ff.
Landing of (6 Aug.), 299.
Water supply provision for, 296–7 and _n._, 313;
thirst torments, 284, 296, 308–10, 313–14 and _nn._, 333.
Suvla Point:
Distance of, from Ejelmer Bay, 290.
Mahon’s battalions landed at (7 Aug.), 304.
Pier at, 392, 395.
Rocks at, 247, 289.
Turkish force at (6 Aug.), 299.
_Swiftsure_, 49, 60.
_Sydney_, 72.
Sykes, Maj.-Gen. F. H., xii, 219.
Table Top, situation of, 250;
capture of (6 Aug.), 254, 256–8, 264.
_Talbot_, 109, 158, 182, 298.
Talbot, Capt., 164.
Tasmania Post, 231.
Tekke Tepe, dominating position of, 287;
height and situation of, 291; Stopford’s design against, 303;
Moore’s patrol on (8 Aug.), 317, 319;
Hamilton’s proposed occupation of, 322, 326, 328;
5th Norfolks lost on, 327–8.
Tenedos:
Aerodrome at, 218.
French occupation of, 166.
Situation and character of, 46–7.
Strategic value of, 401.
_Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli, The_, cited, 217 _n._ 2, 350
_n._, 351 _n._
Territorial Divisions:
Inexperience of, 325, 334, 347.
Makeshift drafts for, 376.
Quality of--in 29th Division, 135;
in 42nd Division, 137.
Theotokis, M., 7 _n._
Thursby, Adm., 90, 111.
Travers, Brig.-Gen. J. H. du B., 216 _n._ 2, 255, 262.
Treaty of Bucharest (1913), 364.
Treloar, Capt., xiii.
_Triad_, 201.
_Triumph_, preliminary bombardments, 48–9, 52, 54 _n._ 2;
forcing of the Narrows, 59–60;
covering fire from, at the landing, 111, 116, 125;
exploit by picket boat of, 86;
torpedoed, 164.
Troops in the campaign. _See_ (1) Australian and New Zealand Army
Corps, (2) British troops, and (3) French Expeditionary Corps.
Trotman, Brig.-Gen. C. N., 84.
Tullibardine, Marquis of, 360.
Turchen Keui, 388 _n._
Turkey:
British pre-war relations with, 2–4, 6–7;
declaration of war, 11.
Capitulations, 9.
German pre-war relations with, 2–9;
alliance of 4 Aug. 1914, 7 _n._
Revolution in, anticipated, 33, 59.
Young Turk revolution (1908–9), 4.
Turkey Trot, the, 184.
Turks:
Allied attitude towards, 385 and _n._
Artillery strength, 148, 161.
Camouflage by, 150.
Casualties, estimated (early May), 146;
(19–20 May), 162;
(end of May), 168;
(21 June), 180;
(first part of August), 335; (27–28 Aug.), 354;
total, 406;
burials under Red Crescent (2 May), 136;
(20 May), 162.
Divisional Order (June), 186.
Filthy lines of, 185.
Germans, attitude towards, 385 _n._
Hate frenzies of, 190, 196, 209, 399, 403.
Headquarters of, 388 _n._
Mussulman appeal of, 187–8.
Nizam troops, 148, 168, 191, 198.
Prisoners, 167, 177, 185, 199;
Australian treatment of, 238 _n._
Red Cross respected by, 395.
Reinforcements of, 145–6, 161, 198, 319;
routes of, 146, 221.
Snipers, 125–6, 150, 160, 335 and _n._
Strength of, estimated--in all quarters, 193 _n._;
in Gallipoli Peninsula--(25 April), 111;
(1 May), 135;
(6 May), 148;
(25 May), 168;
(Aug.), 220 and _n._;
(6 Aug. at Suvla), 299;
(Dec.), 387–8 and _n._
Sufferings of, in blizzard of Nov., 385.
Trenches of, roofed, 235, 256, 342.
Unwin, Com. Edwin, at V Beach landing, 95–6;
rescues the wounded, 99;
superintends Suvla landing, 295;
directs the evacuation, 392.
V Beach:
Evacuation from, 404.
French landing-place and depôt, 129.
Landing of 25 April, 94–100;
Seddel Bahr secured, 127–8.
Shelling of, constant, 148, 196.
Situation and conformation of, 79, 93–4.
Vacher, Lt.-Col., 85.
Valley of the Shadow of Death. _See_ Shrapnel Gully.
Vandeleur, Brig.-Gen. R. S., 349 _n._
Vandenberg, Gén., 84.
_Vengeance_, 49, 52, 53, 60, 165.
Venizelos, M., military aid offered by (1 March), 56;
resignation of (6 March), 56 _n._ 2;
resumes Premiership (Aug.), 365;
pro-Serbian policy of, 365–6;
resigns (Oct.), 368;
estimate of, 10.
Vineyard, the:
British capture of (Aug.), 229–30.
Success near (15 Nov.), 382.
von Biberstein, Baron Marschall, 4.
von der Goltz, Gen. Colman, 6.
von Hindenburg, 169.
von Löwenstern, Gen., proclamation by, 135.
von Mackensen, Field Marshal, 365, 369 _n._
von Müller, Capt. Karl, 72.
von Sanders, Gen. Liman, 145, 161;
Turkish army reorganised by, 6, 9;
at the armistice (20 May), 163;
subservience of, to Enver, 198 _n._
von Wangenheim, Baron, 144.
W Beach:
Conformation of, 100.
Evacuation from, 404–5.
Landing of 25 April, 101–4.
Shelling of, persistent, 129, 148, 196, 197.
W Hill (Hill 112--Ismail Oglu Tepe):
Hill ordered to attack (7 Aug.), 305.
Importance of, 287, 323.
Turkish entrenchments on, 342.
Turkish guns withdrawn from (7–8 Aug.), 269 and _n._
mentioned, 298, 300, 335.
Walford, Capt., 128.
Walker, Corp. G. A., 196 _n._
Walker, Maj.-Gen. H. B., xii, 117, 160, 233, 242;
cited, 238 _n._
Walker’s Ridge:
Kitchener’s visit to, 380.
Turkish failure at, 192.
Wallace, Maj.-Gen., 210–11.
Wallingford, Maj. J., 280.
Wanliss, Lt.-Col., 154 _n._ 2.
War Council, the, power and personnel of, 14–15;
experts on, 25–8;
meetings of 13 Jan. 1915, 33–4;
of 28 Jan., 34–6.
War Staff Group, 26 and _n._
Ward, Lt.-Col. M. C. P., 81.
Warsaw, falls of, 221, 336;
effect on Turks, 363.
Water:
Shortage of, 130, 192, 264–5:
(7–10 Aug.), 284;
at Suvla--thirst torments, 284, 296, 308–10, 313–14 and _nn._,
333.
Springs of, danger spots, 183, 326.
Supply arrangements, 104, 206;
at Suvla, 296–7 and _n._, 313;
difficulties, 323.
Watson’s Pier, 163.
Weber Pasha, 198 and _n._
Wedgwood, Lt.-Com. Josiah, 149 _n._
Wemyss, Rear-Adm., 63, 89, 312;
bombards Seddel Bahr, 127;
in command of evacuation, 386.
Westerners, 64–5, 377.
Wheat Field, the, 190.
“Whippets,” 215.
White, Lt.-Col. A. H., 244–5.
White, Brig.-Gen. Cyril B. B., 83, 400.
White flag fired on, 178.
White Gully, 161, 233.
Wiggin, Brig.-Gen., 338 _n._ 1.
Wilhelm II., Kaiser, visit of, to Constantinople and Jerusalem, 3.
Wilkin, Pte., 331.
Williams, Able Seaman Wm., 97 _n._
Williams, Lt.-Col. W. de L., 99, 127.
Wilson, Adm. Sir Arthur, 33;
reinforces de Robeck, 62;
estimate of, 25;
cited, 32, 35.
Wilson, Lt.-Col. J. D. R., 135.
Wilson, Col. Leslie (M.P.), xii.
Wilson, Brig.-Gen. Scatters, 338 _n._ 1.
Winter, apprehensions regarding, 359–60;
preparations for, 382;
storm of 27 Nov., 383–4.
Winter, Brig.-Gen. S. H., 81, 210.
Wire entanglements, 100–1, 104, 110, 139, 174, 183, 258.
_Wolverine_, 182, 314.
“Woodbines.” _See Askold._
Woodward, Brig.-Gen. E. M., 81, 141.
Woolly-Dod, Col., 103.
Worcester Flat, 185.
Wounded:
Inadequate provision for, 118, 140–2, 213–14.
Unreclaimed after 4–5 June battle, 178 and _n._
X Beach. _See_ Implacable Landing.
Xeros, Gulf of:
British warships in, 145.
Coast of, 290;
only sheltered spot, 119.
Feints at--(26 April), 119, 148;
(6 Aug.), 325.
Naval aid from, 329.
Y Beach:
Character of, 107.
Landing and failure at, 107–9;
results of failure, 151, 158.
Y 2. _See_ Gully Beach.
Yenishehr, 50, 121.
Yeomanry. _See_ British Troops--and Mounted Division.
Yilghim Burnu. _See_ Chocolate Hill.
Ypres, 2nd battle of, 87.
Z Beach. _See_ Anzac.
Zaimis, M., 368.
Zionists, 70–1.
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Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
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