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.
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
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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.
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).
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.
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.
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.
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.
The End
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.
“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 20,000A
„ 9 7,000 38,000 33,000 20,000B
„ 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.