Still farther up the coast, at the head of the Gulf of Xeros, the Royal Naval Division (less the Plymouth Battalion detailed for Y Beach) was engaged upon a feint, as though a landing were intended either north of the Bulair lines, or at Karachali on the opposite coast. Accompanied by destroyers and the battleship Canopus (Captain Grant) of Admiral Thursby’s squadron, the division proceeded in its own transports. The destroyers opened fire at Karachali and other points along the shore. Towards nightfall the Canopus bombarded the Bulair lines, and preparations as though for a landing were ostensibly made. There was no answer from the enemy, but silence never proved that their trenches were not manned, and their guns ready. Later in the campaign one heard rumours of a landing having been effected here without opposition by a party of Marines, but the only man who went ashore was Lieut.-Commander Bernard Freyberg of the Hood Battalion. Painted brown and thickly oiled, he was dropped from a destroyer into a boat at 10 p.m. on the 24th and from the boat swam ashore, about two miles, carrying four Homi flares and three oil flares. Landing at midnight, he crawled 400 yards up to a trench, and there heard talking, which proved that the trenches were occupied. Crawling back, he lit three lots of flares a quarter of a mile apart, along the shore in the direction of Bulair. Two of the destroyers at once opened fire, and the Turks fired back. Lieut.-Commander Freyberg then swam out, and was picked up an hour later.

During the night the Canopus was recalled to Anzac to support the dubious contest there.

Another feint, on a much larger scale, was made by the French Division upon the Asiatic entrance to the Straits. The object was partly to hold a Turkish force, partly to check the fire from the Asiatic side upon the S and V landings. For this purpose, General D’Amade selected the 6th Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Noguès), mixed Senegalese and Lyons men, of the Brigade Coloniale, supported by the Jeanne d’Arc and the Russian cruiser Askold (called the “Woodbines,” because she has five thin funnels close together, like the five cigarettes in a penny “Woodbine” packet). At the same time, the remainder of the French squadron was ordered to Besika Bay, five or six miles south of the point. Landing from the boats of their own transports, the infantry captured Kum Kali and Yenishehr villages after severe fighting, taking about 600 prisoners. In spite of violent counter-attacks, they held on through that night and the following day, not advancing farther along the coast than the mouth of the Mendere, but drawing the fire of the Asiatic guns, and thus defending both our transports and landings. The action was in every respect successful, but the regiment was re-embarked after nightfall on the 26th in accordance with pre-arranged plans, since Lord Kitchener had forbidden Asiatic adventures. The French lost 167 killed, 459 wounded, and 116 missing. They put the Turkish casualties at 2000, apart from prisoners.94

When night came, the small force at De Tott’s Battery (Eski Hissarlik) was fairly secure; the landing at V Beach had failed, and the few survivors ashore were barely sheltered from extreme peril by the low bank of sand; W Beach was held, but the partially entrenched troops on the plateau which protected it were exposed to repeated attack; X Beach was comparatively safe, owing to dead ground and the Implacable’s guns, and connection with W had been established; in shallow trenches above the ravine on Y Beach the diminishing companies desperately clung to the ground, but were exposed to irresistible numbers; at Z Beach (Anzac) the cove and a rough triangle of unexplored cliffs and ravines were barely held against persistent onsets; near Bulair the feint was probably successful in holding a certain number of Turkish troops, and Captain Freyberg was lighting his flares, a daring and lonely figure; at Kum Kali the French were fulfilling their task, but under orders to withdraw. Of the three Brigadier-Generals in the 29th Division, one had been killed and the other two wounded. Upon those scenes of anguish and death, of scarcely endurable anxiety and a self-devotion unsurpassed in any annals, the Sabbath evening closed, but scarcely for one moment did the tumult of battle cease.