At the Head of Monash Gully.
From the first the Turk held the high ground. Soldiers will realize
what that meant. The Anzac army was as yet an untried one, and all new
troops are apt to keep their heads down. This is but natural. It must
not be forgotten that this was strange country to the newcomers, and
that snipers lay concealed in every little dere.
[Illustration: LOOKING TOWARDS BABY 700 FROM PLUGGE'S PLATEAU.
This very interesting picture shows the long white line, the limit of
our furthest advance. The terraces of Quinn's can be seen perched on
the side of the cliff.]
The Turk as a soldier was never to be despised. Centuries of history
studded with names such as Kossovo in olden times and Plevna in modern,
show that the Turk is a good soldier even if he is a bad governor.
The operations against Turkey in this war prove that in trenches the
Turk is as good a soldier as he was of old. But the natural aptitude
of the Colonial as a hunter soon asserted itself, and cunning marksmen
proceeded to stalk the wily snipers. As the trench systems grew up,
points of vantage, screened by branches, were occupied by the best
shots, accompanied by an observer with a periscope. This gave an
Australian corporal of engineers an idea that was instantly availed
of--the application of a periscopic attachment to the ordinary service
rifle.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
BELOW POPE'S HILL: A DRESSING STATION OR THE N.Z. NO. 1 FIELD
AMBULANCE.]
The necessary glass for the mirrors was not available, but over on the
horizon were a hundred transports waiting with stores and horses.
A fleet-sweeper with a working party went out one fine morning and
called on each ship. From the ornate saloons and the cabins the mirrors
were removed, lowered gently to the deck of the trawler, and hurried
off to Anzac Cove. There the sappers cut the mirrors into little
parallelograms and slipped the pieces into the wooden frames at the
requisite angles. In a few weeks the new periscopic rifle was in use
all along the line, and from that time the superiority of fire was
ours, and it was the Turk's turn to keep his head down.
Straightening the Line.
[Illustration: A SHELL BURST ON STEEL'S POST.]
At the end of the first week it was obvious that our defensive line
could be much improved. Between Pope's and Walker's Ridge there was a
deep canyon--one of the forks at the head of Monash Gully. The Turk
held the high ground looking down the canyon, so that, troops who were
at Pope's, if they wanted to get around to Walker's, had to go away
down Monash Gully, along the beach, and up Walker's Ridge--a distance
of nearly three miles, whereas the gap in the front line between Pope's
and Walker's Ridge was only about 200 yards.
Again, between Pope's and Quinn's there was a ridge, so far unnamed.
This ridge was practically "No Man's Land," and, if occupied by the
Turks, would be a dangerous salient to us, as it looked into the back
of Quinn's Post and down the head of Monash Valley.
So it was decided that if the left flank of our line--that is, from
Quinn's to Walker's--was flung forward, a continuous front line could
be obtained and communication within the Anzac area would be much
simplified.
It was originally decided that this pushing forward of our line would
be made on May 1, but a Turkish attack was launched that evening, and
was heavily repulsed by machine guns and rifle fire from Pope's and
Courtney's Posts, which enfiladed the attacking infantry. Our attack
was postponed until the evening of May 2.
The Canterbury Infantry were to push forward from Walker's, the 4th
Australian Infantry Brigade from the head of Monash Gully, while the
Otago Infantry Regiment were to attack from Pope's and link up the
Australians with the Canterburys who were to advance from Walker's
Ridge. Two battalions of the Royal Naval Division were to be held in
reserve below Quinn's and Courtney's. To get to their appointed place
by 7 p.m., the Otago Infantry had to leave Walker's Ridge on their
three-mile march early in the afternoon.
[Illustration: THE ATTACK ON DEAD MAN'S RIDGE.
It is obvious that the further an attack is pressed on Dead Man's
Ridge, the better target is presented for the enemy gunner on the
flank.]
At 7 p.m. the attack was launched, but the Otago Regiment had suffered
considerable checks on their march round the beach and up Monash
Gully. This part of Anzac was so cut up and broken as to be almost
unbelievable. The Otagos had to pull themselves up part of the way on
a rope fastened on the steep slope of Pope's Hill.
The entire attack was carried out with great dash; but, owing to
the darkness, our unfamiliarity with the country in front, and our
misleading maps, we were brought to a standstill. The Canterburys found
they could not get on from Walker's Ridge; some of our troops were
beaten back, others, particularly the Otagos, hung on grimly through
the long night. The Turk was plentifully supplied with cricket-ball
hand-grenades, while we depended almost entirely on our rifles.
The Christening of Dead Man's Ridge.
As dawn approached, a message came back that the wounded were lying
up in a gully between Pope's and Quinn's, and a party of New Zealand
Engineers started to cut a track up an old watercourse to get the
wounded out. They pushed on past the two battalions of the Naval
Division, and asked them to use their entrenching tools on improving
the track. The men, glad to do something to relieve the strain of
waiting, set to work with a good will, knocking off the corners and
hooking in the sides, until there was quite a passable track to get the
wounded men away.
The scene at the top of that gully will never be obliterated from the
minds of the survivors. Men were lying all over the place, in every
depression and behind every bush. These men had landed on April 25,
had fought unceasingly for over a week on scanty rations and with very
little sleep. Little wonder that they were exhausted, but it must be
said that, apart from the men who were delirious, there was little
murmuring. Hollow-eyed and with pinched faces, these Australians and
New Zealanders waited doggedly. There were no wild cries of "Stretcher
bearer," or "Water," or "Reinforcements." These men realized that
every available man was fighting; that the doctors and orderlies were
overwhelmed with casualties; that water was scarce, and no one was
available to carry it; and that reinforcements would come when they
could be spared.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
DEAD MAN'S RIDGE AND POPE'S HILL.
Taken before the scrub was cut away. Dead Man's Ridge is on the right.
The first trenches can be seen growing up along the crest of Pope's.]
As grey dawn crept in, isolated parties--wild-eyed, clothes torn,
and with blood-smeared bayonets--dashed back from No Man's Land to
the security of the crest, where the Turk must be held should he
counter-attack. One man, demented by suffering and loss of sleep, went
mad and danced on the crest, cursing the Turk, defying him to come on,
and then, in his madness, cursing his comrades taking cover in the
improvized position of defence. One man was crying bitterly because he
had lost his bayonet!
The Turk eventually did attack, but thanks to the defensive line
hastily prepared and the imperturbable Anzac soldiery, only one Turk
got through--an officer, who tumbled into our line with a revolver
bullet in his forehead.
All this took place in No Man's Land, in that little gully to the left
of Quinn's Post, and from that morning it was known as "Bloody Angle."
The units of the Naval Division were then directed to go up the ridge
between Quinn's and Pope's, and their casualties were so heavy that
the name, "Dead Man's Ridge," was instinctively applied to it by
association.
The sorely tried Colonials could not but admit the bravery of the Royal
Marine officers as they led their men up those scrub-covered slopes.
They pressed straight up the goat track, and lined the ridge. As the
ridge was a salient, the Turkish machine gunners from the trenches
opposite our right flank opened fire, and caught the entire line of
men in the back of the head. As fast as the men fell, others pressed
forward to take their places. The officers suffered excessively as
they encouraged their men. On occasions such as these, one realizes
the devilish ingenuity of modern war--bullets streaming as from a
hose, and cutting down everything in the line of fire--men and shrubs
indiscriminately, until the clay slopes of Dead Man's Ridge were
stained with British blood.
The troops holding the safe crestline just a little to the right were
fascinated by the scene--the red and yellow of the hillside, the brave
men steadily climbing up to the fatal crest, the burst of machine-gun
fire as it caught the soldiers on the ridge; then the awful tumble down
the slope until the maimed body came to rest at the foot of the gully
among the sweet wild thyme.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
THE FIRST TRENCHES AT QUINN'S POST.
This picture was taken at the end of April, before the scrub was
whittled into matchwood by the hail of bullets.]
The machine-gun fire was too deadly. The survivors reluctantly came
back to the old line, leaving Dead Man's Ridge covered with dead--our
own and the Turks'. Every night for weeks comrades risked their lives
to get the bodies away, but the Turk gradually established himself on
the ridge, and not until Armistice Day were the burials completed.
A party of the Otago Infantry had a most trying time. They did not fall
back with their comrades during the darkness, and suffered severely
all next day. They were hard pressed and given up for lost, but next
evening managed to cut their way out through the exultant Turks.
The Evolution of the Anzac Line
The evolution of the Anzac front line was most interesting. Military
text books lay down principles and often suggest their application to
different situations. It is considered most necessary to get a good
field of fire, so that the maximum loss may be inflicted on the enemy,
and good communications assured for the passage of troops and the
carriage of ammunition and food.
Consider for a moment what really does take place. The tide of battle
sways backwards and forwards until at the end of a desperate day,
those of the troops left alive on both sides sink exhausted behind any
natural cover--it may be a clay bank, a bush, a big stone, a natural
or artificial depression in the ground. Because these men have some
protection while they are firing they often escape becoming casualties.
These are the men who have really established the line. Other men have
got into depressions and behind crests from which they cannot fire
at the enemy at all. The energetic soldiers who have gone forward to
exposed places have undoubtedly performed great service, but generally
at the price of death. So it happens that when night comes, the men
left alive increase the cover they have by digging in; thus the front
line grows up--little "possies," as the soldier calls them, deepened
and connected up with those on the right and left. By daybreak a
line has been constructed--not sited according to the book--it is
probably in the main based on tactical strong points, but many portions
of it are incorporated because of their safety--field of fire hardly
being considered. Here it is that the tactical knowledge of ground is
valuable, and trained officers and men are not slow to take advantage
of it, thus avoiding much dangerous and laborious work later in sapping
and tunnelling.
[Illustration: SKETCH MAP OF THE ANZAC AREA IN MAY, 1915 SHOWING
THE INNER AND OUTER LINES.
The distance from Chatham's Post to the mouth of the Sazli Beit Dere is
about 3400 yards: from the centre of Anzac Cove to Quinn's Post, in a
direct line, is 1300 yards.]
At the head of Monash Gully the valley forked into three steep gullies.
The one to the left ran up behind Pope's Hill; the second between
Pope's and Dead Man's Ridge; the third branched slightly to the right
and culminated in the little ravine separating Dead Man's Ridge from
Quinn's Post. Courtney's Post was just to the right of Quinn's, and was
perched upon the side of a steep hill, in many places really a cliff.
On this general line the fighting ebbed and flowed, and on the second
day the troops began really to dig in. Harassed by snipers and bombers,
the troops clung to the ground they had so pluckily won.
The Anzac area now consisted roughly of two lines. Taking the sea as a
base, the inner line resembled a V, starting from Hell Spit, running up
Maclagan's Ridge, around to Plugge's Plateau, and then down the face
of the cliff to Ari Burnu, the northern limit of Anzac Cove. This was
the inner line of defence, and was never really manned, except by field
guns and a howitzer or two.
The outer line was shaped like a boomerang, with Quinn's Post as the
apex. The fire trench started from a point about 1000 yards south of
Hell Spit and ran up the crest of low ridges, thence to the hills
overlooking Monash Gully to Steel's Post, Courtney's and Quinn's;
next came Dead Man's Ridge and the post called Pope's Hill. Here
the impassable ravine intervened, on the other side of which was
the section later known as Russell's Top, whence the line took a
right-angled bend down Walker's Ridge to the sea. There probably never
existed a more tangled and confused line, consisting as it did of
posts perched perilously on the brink of steep cliffs, often not even
connected one to the other.
[Illustration: HEADQUARTERS OF QUINN'S.
The three officers are Colonel Johnston, N.Z.I.B.; Lieut-Col. Malone,
Post Commander; and Major Ferguson, R.E., Engineer Staff Officer for
No. 3 Defence Section.]
Quinn's Post.
Of all these posts, Quinn's became the most famous. It was the salient
of the Anzac line and the nearest point to the Turk. Looking back,
it is a marvel that the place ever held at all. If the enemy could
have shelled it, Quinn's would not have lasted five minutes. It was
first held, a ragged trench line just below the crest, by men of the
4th Australian Infantry Brigade, which formed part of the N.Z. and
A. Division. Those famous battalions--the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th
Australian Infantry--established themselves on the night of April 25
at the head of the gully named after their well-known Brigadier. The
Turk seemed determined to regain possession of Quinn's--this would
have imperilled the whole Anzac line, for the holding of Quinn's alone
ensured the communications by way of Shrapnel Valley and Monash Gully.
Because holding Quinn's meant holding Anzac, no labour was too great
to be expended on it. Men in the bomb factory, having completed a
long day's work, turned to again when it was made known that "Quinn's
was short of bombs," and pathetic it was to see these hard-swearing
Australian and New Zealand sappers nodding their heads and dropping off
to sleep with a detonator in one hand and a piece of fuse in the other,
only to wake with a start and, in the small hours of the morning,
carry the product of their toil up to their beloved Quinn's--a journey
of over a mile in the dark with a box of high explosives!
A party of New Zealand Engineers was established in Quinn's and Pope's
from the second day, and their duty was to sap forward with a deep
trench through the crest, and then put T ends on the ends of the saps,
thus making farther towards the Turk a new firing line which gave a
better field of fire. This most dangerous work was much hindered by the
enemy dropping grenades in the head of the sap. Men often had bullet
holes drilled through their long-handled shovels, but despite the
casualties, the work went on.
To the right of Quinn's it was necessary to dig a sap through to join
up with Courtney's, and after much labour and loss this work was
accomplished. To the left of Quinn's was the hotly-contested Dead Man's
Ridge, which, after the morning of May 3, rested in the hands of the
Turk. This vantage point almost looked into the back of Quinn's, and
a work of great magnitude was the construction of a sandbag wall to
protect the tracks to Quinn's from the Turkish machine guns on Dead
Man's Ridge.
It was foreseen that if the enemy commenced mining in earnest, a
fair-sized charge might blow the post off the hillside into Monash
Gully. So counter-mining was decided on. There were no tunnelling
companies then in the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, and the sapper
field companies were too reduced by casualties to do the work. But
all through the Colonial armies were miners and tunnellers--these men
from Broken Hill, Coolgardie, Waihi, Westport, and other places where
coal and gold are won, were formed into companies under experienced
officers, and in a large measure the strenuous labours of these
improvized units at Courtney's, Quinn's and Pope's saved Anzac to the
British.
Right through the twenty-four hours the miners sweated at the tunnel
face, interested in only one thing: how far the man just relieved
had driven in his last shift. There was no talk of limiting the
output or of striking in Anzac, for here there was a great community
of interest--each one was prepared to labour and, if needs be, to
sacrifice himself in the interests of the common weal.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
COURTNEY'S POST.
One of the best photographs taken of an Anzac trench system. The front
line is just over the crest; the reserve trenches are near the lop left
hand corner; the white earth spilled down the cliffside is from the
mines running out to the front; the zig-zag track up the steep cliff is
clearly shown.]
Aeroplanes.
Our flying men had their headquarters in Mudros Harbour. Daily they
flew up and down the Peninsula, but they were sadly overworked. Mostly
they were seaplanes belonging to the Navy. This was a sad handicap to
our artillery ashore, for guns without aeroplanes spotting for them are
almost as ineffective as a blind pugilist.
[Illustration: ON THE RIGHT FLANK.
Notice the deep communication trenches through the crest to the firing
line, and the 25 graves in the little cemetery.]
Every day out to sea the "sausage ship" could be seen with her big
captive balloon observing for the naval gunners. For the first week no
enemy planes were seen, but one day this new sensation appeared. Eyes
were turned skyward, watching the machine, when someone cried out,
"It's a German." There, sure enough, were the big black crosses instead
of the familiar red, white and blue circles. A rather amusing feeling
of "What do we do now?" pervaded the onlookers. It seemed to be little
use going into the dugout with a waterproof sheet for a roof! But this
time he was only spying out the land, and sailed away without molesting
anyone. Next day he was back with a sting. As necks were craned
upwards, something was seen to leave the machine, and with a succession
of "Whoo! whoo! whoo!" came rapidly to earth, or rather, to water, for
splash it went into the sea 200 yards from Walker's Pier. "Splash!"
came another, and still another, whereupon the plane wheeled back over
the Peninsula and off home. Daily the machines flew over and dropped
their three bombs each, but never was any material damage done.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
LOOKING DOWN MONASH GULLY.]
At the head of Monash Gully showers of steel darts, about the size of
a lead pencil, were sometimes dropped, and at intervals the airman
wasted his energies in the distribution of leaflets intimating that
"As the English are in desperate straits, you will be well treated if
you surrender soon." This was sometimes varied by a sheet on which
was a picture of soldiers alleged to be Mohammedan deserters from our
Indian troops, telling of the good time they were having with their
co-religionists. These papers were greatly treasured by the troops as
souvenirs.
One of the most beautiful sights in the campaign was witnessed when
one of our seaplanes was attacked by a Turkish anti-aircraft. Standing
on the hillside and looking out over the blue Ægean Sea, the eye would
pick up, sailing through the azure of the Mediterranean sky, the naval
plane with the sun shining on its oiled-silk wings like those of a
great dragon fly. Suddenly, below it, a puff of pure white smoke would
open out as a silk handkerchief does when released from a closed hand.
On would sail the plane, and above it would open another puff of smoke.
So, with unders and overs, the picture would be limned in, until the
eye got tired of watching, and the plane climbed out of range.