Do not let me forget, though, that a slice of solid stuff is sandwiched into this cable—we are to get some 4.5 shell via Marseilles; H.E. we hope: also, two batteries of 4.5 howitzers: also that the A.G. has been trying hard to feed the 29th Division. The Territorials are the people who are being allowed to go to pot—not a word of hope even, and before the eyes of everyone.
1st August, 1915. Imbros. The usual rush before leaving. No time to write. Sent two cables, copies attached. The first to the War Office, in answer to one from the A.G. wherein he plumes himself upon the completeness of the 29th Division. That completeness, alas, is only so relatively; i.e., in comparison with the sinking condition of the Territorial Divisions:—
"We are deeply grateful to you for the drafts you have despatched for the XXIXth Division as the fighting existence of that fine formation has been prolonged by their timely arrival, but I fear that you are very wide of the mark in your assumption that these drafts have completed the Division.
"As I have ventured to point out incessantly since my arrival here, constant large numbers of casualties must occur between the demands for and the arrival of drafts owing to the length of the sea voyage. It was for this very plain reason that it was doubly necessary to have here the 10 per cent. margin granted in the case of battalions going to France. We must always be considerably under establishment in the absence of some such margin.
"I fully realize, in saying this, that it may be quite impossible to meet such demands as I suggest, but I feel bound to let you know the only possible terms on which any unit in this force can ever be up to establishment.
"At the present moment, excluding 1,700 drafts coming on Simla and Themistocles, the actual infantry strength of the XXIXth Division is 219 officers and 8,424 other ranks."
The second cable is to K. The War Office Army has melted into thin air and it only remains to express my heartfelt thanks for the real Army:—
"With reference to your No. 6645. Very many thanks. You have done everything for us that man can do. The ship will probably not reach me in time but since I know that the ammunition is actually en route for me, and that it will (D.V.) arrive, I need not husband what we have, but can fire freely if I see great results thus obtainable. The Turk, at any rate, where he knows that he is fighting for Constantinople, is a stubborn fighter, and the difficulty is not so much in the taking of positions as in the maintaining of them.
"Hence the extra ammunition you are sending me will come in the nick of time. The ship will arrive at Marseilles 7 p.m. 4th August, as I telegraphed to the Quartermaster-General yesterday. Many thanks for the two batteries of 4.5-inch howitzers, they are worth their weight in gold to us."
At 5 p.m. embarked on H.M.S. Chatham (Captain Drury Lowe) with George Lloyd of the General Staff and young Brodrick. At 6 p.m. sailed for Mitylene.
2nd August, 1915. H.M.S. "Chatham," Mitylene. We opened Mitylene Harbour at 5.30 a.m. So narrow was the entrance, and so hidden, that at first it looked as if the Chatham was charging the cliffs; next as if her long guns must entangle themselves in the flowering bushes on either side of the channel; then, as we sailed out over a bay like a big turquoise, I felt as though we were at peace with all men, making a pilgrimage to the home of Sappho, and that we had left far behind us these giant wars. But only for a moment!
After early breakfast, where I met Captain Grant of H.M.S. Canopus, left in a steam pinnace to inspect the 30th Brigade under Brigadier-General Hill.
Inspected:—
H.M.T. Alaudia, 9.30 a.m.
6th Royal Dublin Fusiliers,
7th Royal Dublin Fusiliers,
Col G. Downing, 7th R.D.F., in command.
H.M.T. Andania, 10.30 a.m.
6th R. Inniskilling Fusiliers,
5th Royal Irish Fusiliers,
Lt.-Col. M. Pike, 5th R.I.F., in command.
H.M.T. Canada, 11.30 a.m.
6th Royal Irish Fusiliers,
Lt.-Col. F. A. Greer in command.
H.M.T. Novian, 12 p.m.
5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers,
Lt.-Col. H. Vanrennan in command.
The Royal Irish Fusiliers and Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers had not got back on board ship by the time I was ready for them, so I hurried off by motor launch to a landing in another part of the Bay and, walking through a village, caught them resting by their piled arms after a route march. All of these men looked very well and cheery. The villagers were most friendly and had turned out in numbers, bringing presents of flowers and fruit. Not more than 60 per cent. of the men are Irish, the rest being either North of England miners or from Somerset.
In the evening, crossed the glassy bay and motored to pay a double-barrelled visit to the Military and Civil Governors. Topping the watershed, yet another pleasure shock. Through the sea haze Mitylene shines out like an iridescent bubble of light. Never had I seen anything so vivid in its colour and setting as this very ancient, very small, very brilliant city of Mitylene. Rio de Janeiro, Sydney, the Golden Horn are sprawling daubs to flawless Mitylene.
Hesketh Smith and Compton Mackenzie were with us. The Governors very polite. The soldier man is a Cretan and seemed a good sort. We took tea at the Hotel and then made our way back to the Chatham. Found messages from G.H.Q. to say all's well and stuff being smuggled in without hitch at Anzac. At 7 p.m. we sailed for Imbros; a breeze from the West whipping up little waves into cover for enemy periscopes. So the moment we left the harbour we took on a corkscrew course, dodging and twisting like snipe in an Irish bog, to avoid winding up our trip in the dark belly of a German submarine. Soon emerged from the sea a huge piled up white cloud, white and clear cut at first as the breast of a swan upon a blue lake, slowly turning to deep rose colour flecked here and there with gold. As it swallowed up the last lingering colours of the sunset, the world grew grey, then black, and we were, humanly speaking, safe.
3rd August, 1915. Imbros. Anchored at Imbros roadstead 5.30 a.m. Braithwaite not up yet so Altham got first innings about transport and supply.
Next the G.S. All our preliminaries are working on quite smoothly towards the climax and, so far, it seems likely the Turks have no notion of the scheme.
Girodon steamed over from Helles to see me and went back again in the evening. He is the mirror of French chivalry, modesty and good form, besides being an extraordinary fine soldier.
The 33rd Brigade, sent by me to gain wisdom at Helles, have now been brought here so that the whole 11th Division can start off together.
Just as the peculiar foggy air of Lancashire is essential to the weaving of the finer sorts of tissues, so an atmosphere of misunderstandings would really seem to suit the War Office.
In the cable telling me I would have 205,000 troops for my push, the S. of S. had informed me categorically that the 8,500 Yeomanry and mounted troops in Egypt, as well as 11,500 Indian troops and the Artillery stationed there were mine.
As the present garrison of Egypt numbers over 70,000 and as the old peace garrison of Egypt was 5,000 and as, further, there is no question of serious attack on Egypt from outside, it seemed to us there might be men in this part of the message. Leaving the Indian troops out of the account, for the moment, I therefore wired to Maxwell and asked him if he thought he would be able to organize a portion of the 8,500 mounted men, in order that, at a pinch, they might be able to come and reinforce us here. So the matter stood when I got another cable from the S. of S. telling me 5,000 drafts are "en route or under orders" to join the 29th Division and that the War Office are "unable to carry out your views about additional marginal drafts." S. of S. then goes on:—
"Maxwell wires that you are taking 300 officers and 5,000 men of his mounted troops. I do not quite understand why you require Egyptian Garrison troops while you have the LIIIrd Division at Alexandria, and the LIVth, the last six battalions of which are arriving in five or six days, on the Aquitania.
"When I placed the Egyptian Garrison at your disposal to reinforce at the Dardanelles in case of necessity, Maxwell pointed out that Egypt would be left very short, and I replied that you would only require them in case of emergency for a short time, and that the risk must be run. I did not contemplate, however, that you would take troops from the Egyptian Garrison until those sent specially for you were exhausted. How long will you require Maxwell's troops, and where do you intend to send them? They should only be removed from Egypt for actual operations and for the shortest possible time."
We may read this cable wrong but it seems to us to embody a topsy-turvy tactic! To wait till one part of your forces are killed off (for that is the plain English of "exhausted") before you bring up the other part of your forces.
It is not easy to know what to do. The very best we can do, it sometimes seems to me, is to keep quiet rather than add one iota to the anxieties of people staggering under a load of responsibilities and cares. In the good old days the Gordons fought in two decisive battles in two Continents within a few months and no one worried the War Office about drafts! The 92nd carried on—had to carry on; they fell to quarter strength—still they were the Gordons and they carried on, just as if they counted a thousand rifles in their ranks. Now, I am quite prepared to do that to-day—if that is the policy. If that were the policy; not one grouse or grumble should ever cross my lips. But that is not the policy. Press and People believe a Division is a unit made up in scientific proportions of different branches and numbering a certain number of rifles. They are told so; the War Office keep telling them so; they believe it, and, in fact, it is an absolute necessity of this modern trench war that it should be so. Although the Gordons got no drafts between the battle of Kandahar and the battle of Majuba Hill, they got six months' rest; which was even better. In those days, apart from sieges, a battle was an event, here it is the rest or respite that is an event. Even British soldiers can't stick day and night fighting for ever. The attack spirit begins to ebb unless it is fed with fresh blood. Whether K.'s mind, big with broad views, grasps this new factor with which he has never himself come into personal contact, God knows. But for his sake, every bit as much as for my own, it is up to me to keep hammering, hammering, hammering at drafts, drafts, drafts.
Dined with the ever hospitable and kind hearted de Robeck on Triad. The Navy are still divided. Some there are who would wish me to urge the Admiral to play first fiddle in the coming attack. This I will not do. I have neither the data nor the technical knowledge which would justify me to my conscience in doing so.
4th August, 1915. Imbros. Have been out seeing the New Army at work. Some of the XIth Division were practising boat work in the evening and afterwards a Brigade started upon a night march into the mountains. The men are fit, although just beginning to be infected with the Eastern Mediterranean stomach trouble; i.e., the so-called cholera, which saved Constantinople from the Bulgarians in the last war.
5th August, 1915. Imbros. The day so longed for is very near now. O that it had come at the period of our victories! But there is time enough still, and the first moves of the plan are working smooth as oiled machinery. For the past few nights there has been steady flow into Anzac of troops, including a Division of the New Army. This has taken place, without any kind of hitch, under the very noses of the Turkish Army who have no inkling of the manœuvre—as yet! The Navy are helping us admirably here with their organization and good sea discipline. Also, from what they tell me, Shaw and the 13th Division of the New Army are playing up with the clockwork regularity of veterans. All this marks us up many points to the good, before even the flag drops. For, given the fine troops we have, the prime factors of the whole conception; the factors by which it stands or falls; are:—
(1) Our success in hoodwinking the Turks; i.e., surprise.
(2) Our success in getting the 13th Division and the Indian Brigade unnoticed into Anzac.
(3) Our success in landing the Divisions from Imbros, Lemnos and Mitylene, at moments fixed beforehand, upon an unknown, unsurveyed, uncharted shore of Suvla. Of these three factors (1) and (2) may already be entered to our credit; (3) is on the knees of the Navy.
The day before the start is the worst day for a Commander. The operation overhangs him as the thought of another sort of operation troubles the minds of sick men in hospitals. There is nothing to distract him; he has made his last will and testament; his affairs are quite in order; he has said au revoir to his friends with what cheeriness he can muster. Looking back, it seems to me that during two months every conceivable contingency has been anticipated and weighed and that the means of dealing with it as it may arise is now either:—embodied in our instructions to Corps Commanders, or else, set aside as pertaining to my own jurisdiction and responsibility. To my thinking, in fact, these instructions of ours illustrate the domain of G.H.Q. on the one hand and the province of the Corps Commander on the other very typically. The General Staff are proud of their work. Nothing; not a nosebag nor a bicycle has been left to chance.[1]
Davies and Diggle, his A.D.C., lunched and the Admiral came to haul me out for a walk about 6 p.m.
Have written K. by this evening's Mail bag about the sickness of the Australians, and indeed of all the troops here, excepting only the native Indian troops, and also about our Medical band-o-bast for the battle. No question about it, the Dardanelles was the theatre of all others for our Indian troops.
Have now seen all the New Army units except six Battalions of the 10th Division.
French has written me a very delightful letter.
CHAPTER XV
SARI BAIR AND SUVLA
6th August, 1915. Imbros. O! God of Bethel, by whose hand thy people still are fed,—I am wishing the very rare wish,—that it was the day after to-morrow. Men or mice we will be by then, but I'd like to know which. K.'s New Army, too! How will they do? What do they think? They speak—and with justice—of the spirit of the Commander colouring the moral of his men, but I have hardly seen them, much less taken their measure. One more week and we would have known something at first hand. Now, except that the 13th Division and the 33rd Brigade gained good opinions at Helles, all is guess work.
Went down to "K" Beach to see the 11th Division go off. Young Brodrick, who was with us, proved himself much all there on the crowded pier and foreshore; very observant; telling me who or what I had not noticed, etc. First the destroyers were filling up and then the lighters. The young Naval Officers in charge of the lighters were very keen to show me how they had fixed up their reserves of ammunition and water. Spent quite a time at this and talking to Hammersley and Malcolm, his G.S.O. (1); also to Coleridge, G.S.O. (2), and to no end of Regimental Officers and men. Hammersley has been working too hard; at least he looked it; also, for the occasion, rather glum. Quite natural; but I always remember Wolseley's remark about the moral stimulus exerted by the gay staff officer and his large cigar. The occasion! Yes, each man to his own temperament. Some pray before battle; others dance and drink. The memory of Cromwell prevails over that of Prince Rupert with most Englishmen but Prince Rupert, per se, usually prevailed over Cromwell. To your adventurous soldier; to our heroes, Bobs, Sir Evelyn, Garnet Wolseley, Charles Gordon (great psalm-singer though he was) an occasion like to-night's holds the same intoxicating mixture of danger and desire as fills the glass of the boy bridegroom when he raises it to the health of his enigma in a veil. But I don't know how it is; I used to feel like that; now I too am terribly anxious. Disappointed not to see Stopford nor Reed. They were to have been there. Besides the men on the beetles there are men packed like herrings upon the decks of the destroyers. I had half a mind to cruise round in the motor launch and say a few words to them Elandslaagte fashion, but was held back by feeling that the rank and file don't know me and that there was too long an interval before the entry into the danger zone.
The sea was like glass—melted; blue green with a dull red glow in it: the air seemed to have been boiled. Officers and men gave me the "feel" of being "for it" though over serious for British soldiers who always, in my previous experience, have been extraordinarily animated and gay when they are advancing "on a Koppje day." These new men seem subdued when I recall the blaze of enthusiasm in which the old lot started out of Mudros harbour on that April afternoon.
Suvla from Chunuk Bair
The moral of troops about to enter into battle supplies a splendid field of research for students of the human soul, for then the blind wall set in everyday intercourse between Commander and commanded seems to become brittle as crystal and as transparent. Only for a few moments—last moments for so many? But, during those moments, the gesture of the General means so much—it strikes the attitude of his troops. It is up to Stopford and Hammersley to make those gestures. Stopford was not there, and is not the type; Hammersley is not that type either. How true it is that age, experience, wisdom count for less than youth, magnetism and love of danger when inexperience has to be heartened for the struggle.
Strolled back slowly along the beach, and, at 8.30, in the gathering dusk, saw the whole flotilla glide away and disappear ghostlike to the Northwards. The empty harbour frightens me. Nothing in legend stranger or more terrible than the silent departure of this silent Army, K.'s new Corps, every mother's son of them, face to face with their fate.
But it will never do to begin the night's vigil in this low key. Capital news from the aeroplanes. Samson has sent in photographs taken yesterday, showing the Suvla Bay area. Not more than 100 to 150 yards of trenches in all; half a dozen gun emplacements and, the attached report adds, no Turks anywhere on the move.
7th August, 1915. Imbros. Sitting in my hut after a night in the G.S. tent. One A.D.C. remains over there. As the cables come in he runs across with them. Freddie Maitland runs fast. I am watching to see his helmet top the ridge of sand that lies between. The 9th Corps has got ashore; some scrapping along the beaches but no wire or hold-up like there was at Sedd-el-Bahr: that in itself is worth fifty million golden sovereigns. The surprise has come off!
I'd sooner storm a hundred bloody trenches than dangle at the end of this wire. But now, thank God, the deadliest of the perils is past. The New Army are fairly ashore. That worst horror of searchlights and of the new troops being machine gunned in their boats has lifted its dark shadow.
At Anzac, the most formidable entrenchment of the Turks, "Lone Pine," was stormed yesterday evening by the Australian 1st Brigade; a desperate fine feat. At midnight Birdie cabled, "All going on well on right where men confident of repelling counter-attack now evidently being prepared: on left have taken Old No. 3 Post and first ridge of Walden Point, capturing machine gun: progress satisfactory, though appallingly difficult: casualties uncertain but on right about 100 killed; 400 wounded."
At Helles a temporary success was scored, but, during the early part of the night, counter-attacks have brought us back to "as you were." Fighting is going on and we ought to be pinning the enemy to the South which is the main thing.
From Suvla we have no direct news since the "All landings successful" cable but we have the repetition of a wireless from G.H.Q. IXth Corps to the Vice-Admiral at 7.58 a.m. saying, "Prisoners captured state no fresh troops have arrived recently and forces opposed to us appear to be as estimated by G.H.Q. Apparently one Regiment only was opposed to our advance on left."
I have caused this cable to be sent to Stopford:—
"4.20 p.m. G.H.Q. to 9th Corps. Have only received one telegram from you. Chief glad to hear enemy opposition weakening and knows you will take advantage of this to push on rapidly. Prisoners state landing a surprise so take every advantage before you are forestalled."
8th August, 1915. Imbros. Another night on tenter hooks: great news: a wireless from a warship to tell us the Suvla troops are up on the foothills: two cables from Stopford: many messages from Anzac and Helles.
"2.12 a.m. IXth Corps to G.H.Q. As far as can be ascertained 33rd Brigade hold line the sea about 91.I.9 to Suvla East corner[2] of Salt Lake to Lala Baba inclusive. North of Salt Lake 31st and 32nd Brigade extended East of Asmak 117.U. preparatory. 34th Brigade advancing having followed retreating enemy towards line diagonally across 117.X. and 117.D. One battalion latter Brigade occupy high ground about square 135.X."
"5.10 a.m. IXth Corps to G.H.Q. Yilghin Burnu is in our hands. No further information."
Awful work at Lone Pine. Desperate counter-attacks by enemy, but now Birdie thinks we are there to stay. Bulk of Turkish reserves engaged there whilst Godley's New Zealanders and the new 13th Division under Shaw are well up the heights and have carried Chunuk Bair. Koja Chemen Tepe not yet; but Chunuk Bair will do: with that, we win!
At Helles we have pushed out again and the East Lancs Division have gallantly stormed the Vineyard which they hold. The Turks are making mighty counter-attacks but their columns have been cut to pieces by the thin lines of the Lancashire Fusiliers. Neither from Helles nor from the Southern area of Anzac are the enemy likely to spare men to reinforce Sari Bair or Suvla.
At 11.30 I ordered the Arno for mid-day sharp. Then happened one of those aquatic incidents which lend an atmosphere all their own to amphibious war. Rear-Admiral Nicholson, in local naval command here, had ordered the Arno to fill up her boilers. Some hitch arose, some d—d amphibious hitch. Thereupon, without telling me, he ordered the Commander of the Arno to draw fires, so that, when my signal was sent, a reply came from the Rear-Admiral saying he was sorry I should be inconvenienced, but he thought it best to order the fires to be drawn; otherwise the boilers might have suffered. When, at a crisis, a boiler walks into the middle of his calculations, a soldier is simply—boiled! I could not altogether master my irritation, and I wrote out a reply saying this was not a question of convenience or inconvenience but one of preventing a Commander-in-Chief from exercising his functions during battle. I sent the signal down to the signal tent and about an hour later Braithwaite came over and said he had taken it upon himself to tone it down.[3] Just as well, perhaps, but here I was, marooned upon an island!
No other ship could be signalled. As a rule there was a destroyer on patrol about Helles which could be called up by wireless, but to-day there was no getting hold of it. I began to be afraid we should not get away till dark when, at about 3.30 p.m. Nicholson signalled that the Triad was sailing for Suvla at 4.15 p.m., and would I care to go in her, the Arno following after she had watered. We were off like a shot, young Brodrick, Captain Anstey and myself for Suvla. Braithwaite remained to carry on with Anzac and Helles. The moment I quit my post I drop out and he takes up the reins. His hands are capable—fortunately! To-day's cables before I left were right from Helles; splendid from Anzac and nothing further from Suvla.[4]
As we sailed in, that bay, always till now so preternaturally deserted and silent, was alive and bustling with ships and small craft. A launch came along from the Chatham and I jumped in whilst we were still going pretty fast and shot off to see de Robeck. He seemed to think things naval were going pretty well and that Rear-Admiral Christian had been coping quite well with his share, but suggested that, as he was under a severe strain, I had better leave him alone. As to the soldiers' show, he said what Turks were on the ground, and there weren't many, had been well beaten—but—but—but; and all I could get him to say was that although he was well aware the fighting at Helles and Anzac demanded my closest attention; still, that was in practised hands and he had felt bound to wireless to beg me to come up to Suvla and see things for myself.
Roger Keyes said then that the landings had come off, on the whole, A.1. Our G.H.Q. idea, which the Navy had shared, that the whole of the troops should be landed South of Lala Baba had been sound. The 33rd Brigade had landed there without shot fired; the 32nd had been sharply, but not very seriously opposed; the Brigade (the 34th) which we, to meet the wish of the Corps, had tried to land for them opposite Hill 10 inside the Bay, instead of with the others as we had originally arranged, had only been able to find depth at the mouth of the Salt Lake; had suffered loss from rifle fire and had been thrown into disorder by the grounding of some lighters. The long wade through the water and mud had upset the cohesion of the Brigade.
Aspinall now turned up. He was in a fever; said our chances were being thrown away with both hands and that he had already cabled me strongly to that effect. Neither the Admiral's message nor Aspinall's had reached me.[5]
Not another moment was to be lost, so Keyes took us both in his motor boat to H.M.S. Jonquil to see Stopford. He (Stopford) seemed happy and said that everything was quite all right and going well. Mahon with some of his troops was pressing back the Turks along Kiretch Tepe Sirt. There had been a very stiff fight in the darkness at Lala Baba and next morning the Turks had fought so hard on a little mound called Hill 10 that he (Stopford) had been afraid we were not going to be able to take it at all. However, it had been taken, but there was great confusion and hours of delay in deploying for the attack of the foothills. They were easily carried in the end but by that time the men were so thirsty and tired that they did not follow up the beaten enemy.
"And where are they now?" I asked.
"There," he replied, "along the foot of the hills," and he pointed out the line, north to south.
"But they held that line, more or less, yesterday," I said.
"Yes," said Stopford, and he went on to explain that the Brigadiers had been called upon to gain what ground they could without serious fighting but that, actually, they had not yet occupied any dominating tactical point. The men had been very tired; he had not been able to get water up to them or land his guns as quickly as he had hoped. Therefore, he had decided to postpone the occupation of the ridge (which might lead to a regular battle) until next morning.
"A regular battle is just exactly what we are here for" was what I was inclined to say, but what I did say was that most of this was news to me; that he should have instantly informed me of his decision that he could not obey my cabled order of yesterday afternoon to "push on rapidly." Stopford replied that he had only made up his mind within the past hour or so; that he had just got back from the shore and was going to send me a full message when I arrived.
Now, what was to be done? The Turks were so quiet it seemed to me certain they must have taken the knock-out. All along the beaches, and inland too, no end of our men were on the move, offering fine targets. The artillery which had so long annoyed Anzac used to fire from behind Ismail Oglu Tepe; i.e., within point blank range of where our men were now strolling about in crowds. Yet not a single shell was being fired. Either, the enemy's guns had been run back over the main ridge to save them; or, the garrison of Ismail Oglu Tepe was so weak and shaken that they were avoiding any move which might precipitate a conflict.
I said to Stopford, "We must occupy the heights at once. It is imperative we get Ismail Oglu Tepe and Tekke Tepe now!" To this he raised objections. He doubted whether the troops had got their water yet; he and Reed were agreed we ought to get more guns ashore; the combination of naval and military artillery was being worked out for the morning; orders would all have to be re-written. He added that, whilst agreeing with me on principle as to the necessity for pushing on, there were many tactical reasons against it, especially the attitude of his Generals who had told him their men were too tired. I thought to myself of the many, many times Lord Bobs, French, every leader of note has had to fight that same non possumus; of the old days when half the victory lay in the moral effort which could impel men half dead with hunger, thirst and sleeplessness to push along. A cruel, pitiless business, but so is war itself. Was it not the greatest of soldiers who said his Marshals could always find ten good reasons for putting off an attack till next day!
So I said I would like to see the G.O.C. Division and the Brigadiers personally so as to get a better grip of things than we could on board ship in harbour. Stopford agreed; nothing, he said, would please him more than if I could succeed where he had failed, but would I excuse him from accompanying me; he had not been very fit; he had just returned from a visit to the shore and he wanted to give his leg a chance. He pointed out Hammersley's Headquarters about 400 yards off and said he, Hammersley, would be able to direct me to the Brigades.
So I nipped down the Jonquil's ladder; tumbled into Roger Keyes' racing motor boat and with him and Aspinall we simply shot across the water to Lala Baba. Every moment was priceless. I had not been five minutes on the Jonquil and in another two I was with Hammersley.
Under the low cliffs by the sea was a small half-moon of beach about 100 by 40 yards. At the North end of the half-moon was Hammersley. Asked to give me an idea of the situation he gave me much the same story as Stopford. The 9th West Yorks and 6th Yorks had done A.1 storming Lala Baba in the dark. There had been marching and counter-marching in the move on Hill 10. The Brigadier had not been able to get a grip of his Battalions to throw them at it in proper unison and form. A delay of precious hours had been caused in the attack on Yilghin Burnu by a Brigadier who wanted to go forward finding himself at cross purposes with a Brigadier who thought it better to hold back. At present all was peaceful and he expected a Staff Officer at any moment with a sketch showing the exact disposition of his troops. He could not, he feared, point me out the Brigade Headquarters on the ground. The general line held followed the under features of the hills.
Malcolm, G.S.O.1, was then called and came up from the far end of the little beach. He was in the act of fixing up orders for next morning's attack. I told both Officers that there had never been a greater crisis in any battle than the one taking place as we spoke. They were naturally pleased at having got ashore and to have defeated the Turks on the shore, but they must not fly away with the idea that with time and patience everything would pan out very nicely. On the contrary, it was imperative, absolutely imperative, we should occupy the heights before the enemy brought back the guns they had carried off and before they received the reinforcements which were marching at that very moment to their aid. This was no guess: it was so: our aeroplanes had spotted Turks marching upon us from the North. We might be too late now; anyway our margin was of the narrowest.
Hammersley assured me that sheer thirst, and the exhaustion of the troops owing to thirst, had been the only reason why he had not walked on to Ismail Oglu Tepe last night. After Yilghin Burnu had been carried, there was nothing to prevent the occupation of the heights as the Turks had been beat, but no one could fight against thirst.
I asked him how the water question stood. He said it had been solved by the landing of more mules; there was no longer any serious supply trouble. All the troops were now watered, fed and rested. They had been told they should gain as much ground as they could without committing themselves to a general action, but they had not, in fact, made much progress. Thereupon, I pressed again my view that the Division should get on to the ridge forthwith. Let the Brigade-Majors, I said, pick out a few of their freshest companies and get on to the crest right now. Hammersley still clung to the view that he could not get any of his troops under weigh before daylight next morning. The units were scattered; no reconnaissance had been made of the ground to their front; that ground was jungly and blind; it would be impossible to get orders round the whole Division in time to let the junior ranks study them. Hammersley's points were made in a proper and soldierly manner. Every General of experience would be with him in each of them, but there was one huge danger rapidly approaching us; already casting its shadow upon us, which, to me as Commander-in-Chief, outweighed every secondary objection. We might have the hills at the cost of walking up them to-day; the Lord only knew what would be the price of them to-morrow. Helles and Anzac were both holding the Turks to their own front, but from Asia and Bulair the enemy were on the march. Once our troops dug themselves in on the crest no number of Turks would be able to shift them. But; if the Turks got there first? If, as Colonel Malcolm said, it was impossible to get orders round the Division in time,—a surprising statement—was there no body of troops—no Divisional reserve—no nothing—which could be used for the purpose of marching a couple of miles? Seemingly, there was no reserve! Never, in all my long soldiering had I been faced with ideas like these. I have seen attack orders dictated to a Division from the saddle in less than five minutes. Here was a victorious Division, rested and watered, said to be unable to bestir itself, even feebly, with less than twelve hours' notice! This was what I felt and although I did not say it probably I looked it, for Malcolm now qualified the original non possumus by saying that although the Irish and the 33rd and 34th Brigades could not be set in motion before daylight, the 32nd Brigade, which was concentrated round about Sulajik, would be ready to move at short notice.
The moment had now come for making up my mind. I did so, and told Hammersley in the most distinct terms that I wished this Brigade to advance at once and dig themselves in on the crestline.[6] If the Brigade could fix themselves upon the heights overlooking Anafarta Sagir they would make the morning advance easy for their comrades and would be able to interfere with and delay the Turkish reinforcements which might try and debouch between the two Anafartas during the night or march down upon Suvla from the North. Viewed from the sea or studied in a map there might be some question of this hill, or that hill, but, on the ground it was clear to half an eye that Tekke Tepe was the key to the whole Suvla Bay area. If by dawn, I said, even one Company of ours was well entrenched on the Tekke Tepe height we should have the whip hand of the enemy in the opening moves next morning.
Hammersley said he understood my order and that the advance should be put in hand at once. Malcolm hurried off; I left a little before 6.30 and went, via the Chatham, back to the Triad. The Arno had by now come in, but de Robeck has kindly asked me not to shift quarters if Anzac and Helles troubles will permit me to stay the night at Suvla.
All was dead quiet ashore till 11 p.m. I was on the bridge until then and, seeing and hearing nothing, felt sure the Brigade had made good Tekke Tepe and were now digging themselves in.
Captain Brody dined. The scraps of news picked up from the sailormen, mainly by young Brodrick, confirm what the soldiers had told us about the landing inside Suvla Bay along the narrow strip of land West of the Salt Lake. The attacks on Hill 10 went to pieces, not against the Turks, but by mishap. The first assault made by one or two Companies succeeded, but the assailants were taken for Turks and were attacked in turn and driven off by others of our men. A most distressing affair.
If there was hesitation and mix-up in the general handling, the Regimental folk atoned and there were many incidents of initiative and daring on the part of battalions and companies.
Mahon with some of his Irish and a Manchester Battalion are fighting well and clearing Kiretch Tepe Sirt. Until this morning bullets from that ridge were falling on "A" Beach; now the working parties are not in any way disturbed.
9th August, 1915. Imbros. With the first streak of dawn I was up on the bridge with my glasses. The hills are so covered with scrub that it was hard to see what was going on in that uncertain light, but the heavyish shrapnel fire was a bad sign and the fact that the enemy's guns were firing from a knoll a few hundred yards East of Anafarta Sagir was proof that our troops were not holding Tekke Tepe. But the Officer of the Watch said that the small hours passed quietly; no firing ashore during the hours of darkness. Could not make head or tail of it!
As the light grew stronger some of ours could be seen pushing up the western slopes of the long spur running out South-west from Anafarta. The scrub was so thick that they had to climb together and follow-my-leader along what appeared to be cattle tracks up the hill. On our right all seemed going very well. Looking through naval telescopes we thought—we all thought—Ismail Oglu Tepe height was won. Very soon the shrapnel got on to those bunches of men on our left and there was something like a stampede from North to South. Looking closer we could see the enemy advancing behind their own bursting shrapnel and rolling up our line from the left on to the centre. Oh for the good "Queen Bess," her high command, and her 15-inch shrapnel! One broadside and these Turks would go scampering down to Gehenna. The enemy counter-attack was coming from the direction of Tekke Tepe and moving over the foothills and plain on Sulajik. Our centre made a convulsive effort (so it seemed) to throw back the steadily advancing Turks; three or four companies (they looked like) moved out from the brush about Sulajik and tried to deploy. But the shrapnel got on to these fellows also and I lost sight of them. Then about 6 a.m., the whole lot seemed suddenly to collapse:—including the right! Not only did they give ground but they came back—some of them—half-way to the sea. But others made a stand. The musketry fire got very heavy. The enemy were making a supreme effort. The Turkish shell fire grew hotter and hotter. The enemy's guns seemed now to be firing not only from round about Anafarta Sagir, but also from somewhere between 113 and 101, 2,500 yards or so South-west of Anafarta. Still these fellows of ours; not more than a quarter of those on the ground at the outset—stuck it out. My heart has grown tough amidst the struggles of the Peninsula but the misery of this scene well nigh broke it. What kept me going was the sight of Sari Bair—I could not keep my eyes off the Sari Bair ridge. Guns from all sides, sea and land, Turks and British, were turned on to it and enormous explosions were sending slices off the top of the high mountain to mix with the clouds in the sky. Under that canopy our men were fighting for dear life far above us!
Between 7.30 and 8.0 the Turkish reinforcements at Suvla seemed to have got enough. They did not appear to be in any great strength: here and there they fell back: no more came up in support: evidently, they were being held: failure, not disaster, was the upshot: few things so bad they might not be worse. By 8.0 the musketry and the shelling began to slacken down although there was a good deal of desultory shooting. We were holding our own; the Welsh Division are coming in this morning; but we have not sweated blood only to hold our own; our occupation of the open key positions has been just too late! The element of surprise—wasted! The prime factor set aside for the sake of other factors! Words are no use.
Looked at from the bridge of the Triad—not a bad observation station—the tendency of our men to get into little groups was very noticeable: as if they had not been trained in working under fire in the open. As to the general form of our attack against the hills on our right, it seemed to be what our French Allies call décousu. After a whole day's rest and preparing, there might have been more form and shape about the movement. Yet it was for the sake of this form and shape that the Turkish reinforcements have been given time to get on to the heights. Our stratagems worked well, but there is a time limit set to all make-believes; the hour glass of fate was set at forty-eight hours, and now the sands have run out.
Before going over to Anzac I had to get hold of Stopford so as to hear what news had come in from Hammersley and from Mahon. If only Mahon is pushing forward to Ejelmer Bay and can occupy the high range to the East of it that would make amends for much. After breakfast, therefore, at 8.30 got into a launch and landed at Ghazi Baba with young Brodrick as my only companion. Our boat took us into a deep, narrow creek cut by nature into the sheer rock just by Ghazi Baba—a name only; there is nothing to distinguish that spot from any other. Along the beach feverish activity; stores, water, ammunition, all the wants of an army being landed. Walking up the lower slope of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, we found Stopford, about four or five hundred yards East of Ghazi Baba, busy with part of a Field Company of Engineers supervising the building of some splinter-proof Headquarters huts for himself and Staff. He was absorbed in the work, and he said that it would be well to make a thorough good job of the dug-outs as we should probably be here for a very long time. I retorted, "Devil a bit; within a day or two you will be picking the best of the Anafarta houses for your billet."
From the spot he had selected the whole of Suvla Bay and the Salt Lake lay open; also the Anafartas and Yilghin Burnu. But, being on a lower spur of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, his post was "dead" to the fighting taking place along the crest of Kiretch Tepe Sirt itself. I remarked on this and asked what news of the Irish, saying that now we were certainly forestalled at Yilghin Burnu and, apparently, on Tekke Tepe also, it was doubly essential Mahon should make a clean sweep of the ridge. Stopford said he was confident he would be able to do so, aided as he would be by the fire from the ships in the harbour—a fire which enfiladed the whole length of this feature.
As to this morning's hold up, Stopford took it philosophically, which was well so far as it went, but he seemed hardly to realize that the Turks have rushed their guns and reinforcements here from a very long way off whilst he has been creeping along at the rate of a mile a day. Stopford expected Hammersley would be in to report progress in person; he will keep me well posted in his news and he understands that the Welsh Division will be at his disposal to help the 11th Division.
As Stopford could give me no recent news from Mahon I suggested I should go and find out from him personally how matters then stood. Stopford said it was a good idea but that he himself thought it better not to leave his Headquarters where messages kept coming in. I agreed and started with George Brodrick to scale the hill.
About half a mile up we struck a crowd of the Irish Pioneer Regiment (Granard's) filling their water bottles at a well marked on the map as Charak Cheshme. In their company we now made our way Northwards along a path through fairly thick scrub as high as a man's waist. We were moving parallel to, and about 300 yards below, the crestline of the ridge. When we had gone another mile a spattering of "overs" began to fall around like the first heavy drops of a thunderstorm. So wrapped in cotton wool is a now-a-days Commander-in-Chief that this was the first musketry fire I could claim to have come under since the beginning of the war. To sit in a trench and hear flights of bullets flop into the sandbag parapet, or pass harmlessly overhead, is hardly to be under fire. An irregular stream of Irishmen were walking up the path along with us; one of them was hit just ahead of me. He caught it in the thigh and stretcher men whipped him off in a jiffy. At last we got to a spot some 2½ miles from Suvla and had not yet been able to find Mahon. So I sat down behind a stone, somewhere about the letter "K" of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, and sent young Brodrick to espy the land. He found that we had pulled up within a couple of hundred yards of the Brigade Headquarters, where portions of the 30th, 31st and 34th Brigades (sounds very formidable but only five Battalions) were holding a spur and preparing to make an attack. General Mahon was actually in the Brigade Headquarters (a tiny ditch which only held four or five people) and came back to where I was sitting. He is angry, and small wonder, at the chaos introduced somehow into the Corps. He is commanding some of Hammersley's men and Hammersley has the bulk of his at the far extremity of the line of battle. He besought me to do my utmost to get Hill and his troops back to their own command.
I told him G.H.Q. had always understood Stopford would land his, Mahon's, two Brigades intact at A Beach. When the naval people could not find a beach at A, they, presumably with Stopford's concurrence, had most unluckily dumped them ashore several miles South at C Beach. This was the cause of the mix-up of his Division which Stopford, no doubt, would take in hand as soon as he could. Mahon seemed in fighting form. He said he could clear the whole of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, but that he did not want to lose men in making frontal attacks, so he was trying to work round South through the thick scrub so as to shift the enemy that way. He had reckoned five or six hundred men were against him—gendarmes. But there were more than there had been at daylight. My talk with Mahon made me happier. Here, at least, was someone who had an idea of what he was doing. The main thing was to attack before more Turks came down the coast. My own idea would certainly have been to knock the Turks out by a bayonet charge—right there. So far they had not had time to dig a regular trench, only a few shallow scrapings along a natural fold of the ground. If Mahon wished to make a turning movement, then, I think, he would have been well advised to take it by the North where the ground over which he must advance was not only unentrenched and clear of brush, but also laid quite open to the supporting fire of the Fleet. But I kept these views to myself until I could see Stopford; said good-bye to Mahon and wished him luck; found Brodrick had wandered off on his own to see the fun at close quarters; legged it, all alone, down the open southern slope of the Kiretch Tepe Sirt and got down into ground less open to snipers' fire from the scrub-covered plain.[7] Then, still quite alone, I made my way back South-west towards Ghazi Baba on Suvla Bay. After a little I was joined by two young Irish soldiers. I don't know who or what they took me for; certainly not for the Generalissimo. They came along with me and discussed identical adventures from diametrically different standpoints. One, in fact, was an optimist; the other a pessimist. One found fault with the war for not giving him enough hardship and adventure; the other was entirely fed up with adventures and hardships. This seems a trivial incident to jot down amidst issues so tremendous, but life is life, and my chat with these youngsters put some new life into me. Nearing the shore, I again struck Stopford's Headquarters, now beginning to look habitable. Braithwaite, and one or two others of my Staff turned up from Imbros at that moment. He shoved some cables into my hand and hastened off to interview Reed. Helles and Anzac have been duly warned we are both here for a few hours; all the component parts of my machine, its cranks, levers, pulleys, are assembled at Imbros, and G.H.Q. simply cannot be left under a junior much longer. Meanwhile I told Stopford about Mahon and the gendarmes. When I said that the sooner the Kiretch Tepe nettle was grasped the less it would sting, he informed me he had issued an order that Commanders were not to lose men by making frontal attacks on trenches but were to turn them.
So here is a theory which South African practice proved to be more often wrong than right being treated as an axiom at Gallipoli!
We next went into the question of digging a defensive line of trenches half-way between Corps Headquarters and Mahon's force. Here we were in accord. No man knows his luck and the tide may turn any moment. Both at Liao-Yang and the Shaho the Japanese began to dig deep trenches directly they captured a position.
Young Brodrick rejoined me here; rather anxious at having lost me. He had found Mahon with the Brigade Staff. He had been shown the exact positions on a rough sketch map made by one of the Officers. We had three Battalions in the firing line and two in reserve. The gendarmerie had been reinforced and were now estimated at 700 without machine guns or artillery. We had a mountain battery shelling the gendarmes and a monitor occasionally gave them a big fellow. The Brigade Staff had said nothing to him about a battalion working round to the South. I repeated this to Stopford and begged him to make a push for it here.
By now Braithwaite had finished with Reed, so we hurriedly discussed his budget of news. Hammersley is expected but he has not turned up yet. Indeed the situation is still by no means free from anxiety although the arrival of the Welsh Division gives confidence. A battalion of the 32nd Brigade did get up on to Tekke Tepe last night, it seems, but were knocked off this morning before they had time to entrench.[8] Seeing they should have had several hours time to dig in, that seems strange. Braithwaite handed me a bunch of signals and wires; also the news of what I had known at the back of my mind since morning,—the fact that we had not got Sari Bair! Then we started back to see de Robeck and Keyes. For the first time in this expedition Roger Keyes seemed down on his luck: we had often before seen him raging, never dejected. These awful delays:—delay in landing the Irish; delay in attacking on the 7th; delay all night of the 7th; delay during the day of the 8th and night of the 8th, have simply deprived him of the power of speech,—to soldiers, that is to say, though, to shipmates, no doubt...!
Now for Anzac. Since dawn a fever about Anzac had held me. Shades of Staff College Professors, from you no forgiveness to a Chief who runs about the mountain quitting his central post. But the luminous shade of Napoleon would better understand my desperation. Some Generals are just accumulators of the will of the C.-in-C. When that is the case, and when they run down, there is only one man who can hope to pump in energy.
Exact at noon Roger Keyes and I pushed off in the racing motor boat. On our way we stopped at "C" beach and picked up Commander Worsley. Next to Anzac, but at the Cove, found that Birdwood had left word he would meet me at the ex-Turkish Post No. 2,—so, as the water was shoal in spots, we rowed down there in a dinghy, along the shore where our lives would not have been worth half a minute's purchase just three days ago.