The Arrival of the Mounteds.
During the first few days the troops were exhorted to hold on. There
was no option. The line could not go forward, and it dare not go back.
First it was rumoured that the East Lancashire Division, associated
with us in Egypt, was coming to Anzac; then the 29th Indian Infantry
Brigade from the Suez Canal; but Helles absorbed these. Worst still! On
May 5 the New Zealand Infantry Brigade and the 2nd Australian Brigade
were taken out of Anzac to assist in the thrust towards Krithia. On the
left flank of Anzac, two weak battalions of the Royal Naval Division
took over the line the New Zealand Brigade had vacated.
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Sergt. P. Tite, N.Z.E._
THE TANGLED SLOPES OF MULE GULLY.]
The Anzac position was now reorganized in four defence sections
numbered from right to left. General Bridges, with the 1st Australian
Division, held Sections 1 and 2--that is, from Chatham's Post on the
sea up to, but not including, Courtney's Post. General Godley, with
the N.Z. and A. Division, was responsible for the rest of the line.
No. 3 Defence Section contained the three famous posts at the head of
Monash Gully--Courtney's, Quinn's, and Pope's. Russell's Top, Walker's
Ridge, No. 1 and No. 2 Posts made up No. 4 Section. General Birdwood,
the Army Corps General, was at his headquarters in Anzac Cove, and each
Divisional General was in charge of half the defensive line.
The sections were held as follow:--
No. I Section (Colonel Sinclair-Maclagan)--3rd Australian Infantry
Brigade.
No. 2 Section (Brigadier-General Walker)--1st Australian Infantry
Brigade.
No. 3 Section (Brigadier-General Trotman, R.M.L.I.)--4th Australian
Infantry Brigade; Royal Marine Brigade (Chatham and Portsmouth
Battalions); 3 sections No. 1 Field Company, N.Z.E.
No. 4 Section (Brigadier-General Mercer, R.M.L.I.)--Royal Naval
Brigade (Nelson and Deal Battalions); 1 section No. 1 Field Company,
N.Z.E.
We, as a nation, are prone to underrate our efforts and laud those of
our adversaries. Before and during the war it was loudly asserted that
the German Secret Service and German diplomacy always outwitted the
British. To-day the world knows the truth of the matter. Likewise, it
was contended that the Turkish Intelligence Department was superior to
ours. "Look how they always know what we are about to do," said the
critics. Truly, anything planned in Egypt was bound to leak out if it
had to be printed or circulated, as Egypt was always a cosmopolitan
place, where it was unsafe to trust a stranger. But if the Turks knew
so much, why did they not attack Walker's Ridge that anxious week
in May? Any attack must have succeeded, and the thin line of single
trenches once broken, Anzac must have crumpled.
The enemy did nothing serious, and on May 12 the joy at Anzac was
unbounded. The Mounteds had arrived! Every face on the beach was
wreathed in smiles. Here they all were--without their horses, but keen,
and spoiling for a fight--the Australian Light Horse; the New Zealand
Mounted Rifles Brigade, consisting of the Auckland, Wellington, and
Canterbury Regiments; the field troop to reinforce the overworked 1st
Field Company in its sapping and mining; the signal troop, to help with
the telephone and buzzers; and the mounted field ambulance, to assist
their overworked confreres with the wounded.
Whatever the trudging infantry men had thought in Egypt as the mounted
men swept by, to-day there was nothing but the good humoured banter of
"Where's your horses?" As the eager troopers climbed the goat tracks of
Walker's Ridge a great sigh of relief was heaved by the sorely tried
garrison of Anzac. Never were troops more welcome.
[Illustration: THE BEACH SWEEPING TOWARDS NIBRUNESI POINT.]
The same day, Colonel Chauvel, with the 1st Australian Light Horse
Brigade, took over No. 3 Defence Section from Brigadier-General
Trotman, who embarked with the Chatham and Portsmouth Battalions that
night for Cape Helles.
Brigadier-General Russell relieved Brigadier-General Mercer on Walker's
Ridge. The New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade took over the line from
the Nelson and Deal Battalions, who also left Anzac to rejoin the Royal
Naval Division at Cape Helles.
The highest part of Walker's Ridge became known as Russell's Top,
because, close at hand, practically in the firing line, the commander
of the N.Z. Mounted Rifles Brigade established his headquarters.
Hereabouts No Man's Land was very narrow. Away to the right ran the
deep gully, which, passing behind the back of Pope's Hill, became
Monash Gully. So far, Pope's and Russell's Top were unconnected,
the Turks holding the head of this gully, which made their sniping
of Monash Gully so effective. It was from here, on May 15, that a
Turkish sniper mortally wounded General Bridges, as he was proceeding
up Shrapnel Gully. At that time no place in the Anzac area could be
considered safe.
[Illustration: THE SPHINX.
Owing to the steep cliffsides, the bullets could not reach the dug-outs
on the slope.]
To the left was another gully running down and losing itself in the
ramifications of the outlying spurs of Walker's Ridge. The little flat
watershed separating these two gullies ran like an isthmus across
No Man's Land, and connected Russell's Top with that part of the
main Turkish position known as "Baby 700" and "The Chessboard." This
connecting link was known as "The Nek." Only a few yards behind our
main fire trench were precipitous cliffs, which, running round to the
right, culminated in a remarkable knife-edged cliff eventually known as
the "Sphinx"; while to the extreme left flank these cliffs, scored with
the torrential winter rains, eventually resolved themselves into broken
under-features of Walker's Ridge, sprawling out and forming one side
of the Sazli Beit Dere. Near the bottom of this dry watercourse was
the little Fishermen's Hut, so often used as a landmark. Just south of
these huts was No. 1 Post, and a few hundred yards past the valley and
on the coast was the little knoll eventually to become famous as No. 2
Post.
[Illustration: NO. 2 POST.]
This No. 2 Post was the northern extremity of our line. Measured on the
map, it was a distance of 3600 yards--just two miles--from Chatham's
Post on the extreme right. As Quinn's Post was about 1000 yards from
the sea, a rough calculation will show that the area of Anzac was
approximately 750 acres. Seven hundred and fifty acres of prickly scrub
and yellow clay, stony water-courses, sandy cliffs and rocky hill
tops, land that would not support one family in comfort, yet for eight
long months, men of divers races lived a Spartan life there, studding
the hillsides so thickly with their rude dugouts that a Turkish shell
seldom failed to find a victim.
No time was lost after taking over this No. 4 Sector. The engineers
had made a track for guns and mules up to Russell's Top. This road was
regraded and improved in parts; trenches were deepened and made more
habitable; saps were pushed out wherever the field of fire required
improvement. The line from "the Top" to No. 2 Outpost was very broken,
with many rough gullies intervening; secret saps were dug, and machine
guns placed to cover this "dead" ground, up and down which the scouts
of both sides roamed as soon as it was dark.
The panorama from Walker's Ridge was magnificent. Looking across the
yellow clay hills, decorated in patches with green scrub oak and
prickly undergrowth, red poppies and purple rock roses, one saw the
beautiful beach sweeping up towards the Suvla Flats; the Ægean Sea
was generally as calm as a mill pond, dotted all over with leisurely
trawlers, barges, and restless destroyers; the white hospital ships,
with their green bands and red crosses, lay a few miles out to sea;
over in the distance the storied isles of Imbros and Samothrace stood
out in all the glory of their everchanging tints. The men of the
Wellington regiments recognized a strong resemblance to the view from
the Paekakariki Hill, looking out towards Kapiti and the long white
stretch of the Otaki beach.
[Illustration: THE SUVLA FLATS FROM WALKER'S RIDGE.]
Later in the month the Otago Mounted Rifles were stationed down at No.
2 Post. Between the post and the sea was a delightful little strip of
level ground, ablaze with poppies and other wild flowers, but under
the eye, and within the range of the enemy. Near this outpost was
discovered an old Turkish well. Elsewhere men searched for water, and
sometimes found it, but when pumps were applied the flow ceased after
a day or so. This, on the contrary, was a most reliable well, a godsend
to the thirsty men and mules, and a most welcome addition to the scanty
supply procured from the barges. Soldiers came from far and near to
draw the precious water.
Owing to its visibility to the snipers on the Turkish right flank, the
beach between Ari Burnu and Fishermen's Hut could not be used during
the day. Almost under the shadow of the Sphinx a group of boats and
barges lay stranded on the beach. Late one night a party of mounteds
went down and buried the remains of forty Australian infantrymen who
had been killed at the April landing.
The Mounted Rifles repulse a determined Attack.
About the middle of May, the Turks decided that one determined effort
would drive the men of Anzac into the sea. These people perched on
the hillside annoyed him enormously. Never did he make an attack in
the southern zone but these Colonials threatened to advance towards
Maidos. News was gleaned of the withdrawal of troops from Helles and
the arrival of reinforcements from Constantinople.
On May 17, the "Lord Nelson" delighted all beholders by turning her
big guns on to the village of Kuchuk Anafarta. All along the coast
line the ships joined in, until every village behind the line, and
every road running towards Helles and Anzac, was swathed in dust and
flame. The Turk retaliated with guns ranging from 11in. down to .77.
Their shooting was good--one Australian 18-pr. was put out of action
by a direct hit. The enemy reinforcements were delayed, but with the
darkness, on they came again.
Next day was fairly quiet, but the sentries were warned to prepare for
an attack, and during the night the reliefs slumbered behind the line
with their clothes on, their rifles loaded, and their bayonets fixed.
Sure enough, just after midnight, firing commenced from Chatham's
Post along to No. 2 Post. Thousands of cricket-ball hand-grenades
were hurled into Quinn's and other critical places. The big guns on
both sides renewed their efforts. The bursts of shells in mid-air
momentarily lit up the scene, intensifying the blackness of the night.
But this was only the enemy's preliminary bombardment, for about 3
a.m., the watchful sentries detected forms moving cautiously in No
Man's Land. Soon the attack was made in earnest at the junction of No.
2 and No. 3 Defence Sections. Then it burst in its fury on Quinn's and
Russell's Top.
[Illustration:
PENINSULA PRESS.
No. 44 SATURDAY, JULY 3rd 1915. Official News
The Attack that Failed.
Further details have now been received of the attack made by the Turks
on the night of the 29th-30th ult. At about 2 o'clock on Wednesday
morning the searchlights of H.M.S. "Scorpion" discovered half a Turkish
battalion advancing near the sea, North-west of Krithia. The "Scorpion"
opened fire and few of the enemy got away. Simultaneously, the enemy
attacked the knoll we had captured due West of Krithia, advancing
from the nullah in close formation in several lines. The attack came
under artillery and enfilade rifle fire and the enemy lost heavily.
The foremost Turks got within 40 yards of the parapet, but only a few
returned.
The Turks made several heavy bomb attacks during the night, our troops
being twice driven back a short distance. In the early morning we
regained these trenches by bayonet attack and they have since been
strengthened. At 5.30 a.m. 2,000 Turks moving from Krithia into the
ravine were scattered by machine gun fire. The operations reflect great
credit on the vigilance and the accurate shooting of H.M.S. "Scorpion."
The Turkish losses in the nullah and ravine are estimated at from 1,500
to 2,000 dead. At about 10 p.m. on Wednesday the Turks again attacked
with bombs a portion of the most northerly trench captured by us on the
29th.
An officer of the Gurkas being wounded (not dangerously as it turned
out) the men became infuriated: flung all their bombs at the enemy,
and then charging down out of the trench, used their kukris with great
effect. About dawn the Turks once more attempted an attack over the
open but nearly the whole of these attacking forces, about half a
battalion, were shot down; and a final bomb attack, though commenced,
failed utterly.
A further report from Anzac of the enemy's attack on Tuesday and
Wednesday last, on our right flank states that the action commenced
with very heavy fire from midnight till 1.30 a.m. to which our men
replied only by a series of cheers. The Turks then launched their
attack and came right on with bayonet and bombs. Those who succeeded
in getting into our saps were instantly killed, the remainder being
dealt with by bomb and rifle fire from the 7th and 8th Light Horse.
By 2 a.m. the enemy broke and many were killed while withdrawing. The
enemy's attack was strongest on his right. They were completely taken
aback by a concealed sap constructed well ahead of our main line, and
their dead are lying thickly in front of this. Some got into the sap
and several got across it, and all these were wiped out by fire from
the main parapet farther back. Following the defeat of this attack, the
enemy attacked at 3 a.m. on our left and 30 men came over the parapets
in front of the right of Quinn's Post. These were duly polished off.
Prisoners brought in state that three fresh battalions were employed
in the main attack which was made by the personal order of Enver Pasha
who, its they definitely assert, was present in the trenches on Tuesday
the 20th ult.
Wednesday was very quiet at Anzac, except for heavy musketry fire along
our left and centre during the storm in the evening. Latest report
of enemy casualties on 29th, estimates them at between 400 and 500
actually seen to fall on those areas alone that are exposed to view and
exclusive of any loss inflicted by our bombardments of reverse slopes
and gullies in which reserves are known to be collecting.
It is manifest with what apprehension the Turks regard our latest gains
and how bravely they have tried to neutralize them and at what cost.
On the West Front.
Paris, July 2nd.
After a continuous bombardment which lasted three days, the Germans
attacked the French positions in the Argonne, between the road from
Binarville and the Four-de-Paris. Twice driven back, they eventually
succeeded, after a third attempt in setting foot in some parts of the
French lines near Bagatelle, and were repulsed everywhere else after
a very fierce struggle. Two fresh attacks against the trenches to the
East of the road from Binarville were defeated. A violent attack in
the neighbourhood of Metzeral was completely repulsed, the Germans
suffering heavy losses.
(Official Report by wireless).
Letters to a Turkish Soldier at the Front.
The following characteristic letters, written to a Turkish soldier at
the front, will be read with interest:--
"To my dear son-in-law, Hussein Aga. First, I send you my best salaams
and I kiss your eyes. Your mother Atrf also kisses your eyes. Mustafa
also kisses your eyes and Mrs. Kerim also sends her salaams. Your
daughter Ayesha kisses your eyes. Should you inquire after our health,
thank God I can tell you we are all in health, and I pray God we may
continue to be so. Your letter of the 4th February we have received.
Your mother kisses your eyes and Abdullah kisses both your hands. Your
brother, Bairham's wife, has died--may your own life be long--but
before dying she brought into the world a child. The child also has
died.
What can I say about the decrees of God? Your brother Bairham has also
been taken as a soldier. We pray God that his health may be preserved.
The money you sent has arrived. Thank God for it, for money is scarce
these days. Everybody sends salaams: everybody kisses your hands and
your feet. God keep you from danger."
Your father,
Faik.
To my dear husband, Hussein Aga. I humbly beg to inquire after your
blessed health. Your daughter sends her special salaams and kisses
your hands. Since you left I have seen no one. Since your departure I
have no peace. Your mother has not ceased to weep since you left. Your
daughter declares that she is enceinte and weeps all day. We are all
in a bad way. Your wife says to herself "While my husband was here we
had some means." Since your departure we have received nothing at all.
Please write quickly and send what money you can. All your friends
kiss your hands and your feet. May God keep you and save us from the
disasters of this war.
Your wife,
Fatima.
R.E. Printing Section, G.H.Q., M.E.F.
"THE PENINSULA PRESS."
Printed by the R.E. Printing Section at Imbros.]
The machine guns sprayed the front with a shower of lead, and for an
interval the attack seemed held up, but in the grey dawn the mass
advanced again. Crying on their God--"Allah! Allah! Allah!"--they
surged forward in tremendous strength. From their trenches opposite
Russell's Top and Turk's Point on Walker's Ridge they sallied forth
in thousands. This was the first real test of the New Zealand Mounted
Rifles. The Turks flung themselves against the trenches held by the
Auckland Mounted Regiment; but with rifle and machine-gun fire the
troopers beat them off, hardly a Turk reaching the trench.
This was a field day for the machine guns posted in No. 4 Section.
Carefully trained by some of the greatest experts in the world,
who were not slow to recognize their golden opportunities, these
excellently placed weapons carried disaster into the enemy's attacks,
enfilading them time and again. To the intense delight of the gunners,
the Turks advanced in lines that presented ideal machine-gun targets.
As the enemy had treated the Royal Naval Battalions on Dead Man's
Ridge, so the Turk was now treated in return.
Again and again the foe came on--by their French-grey overcoats they
were identified as new picked troops from Asia. Again and again they
advanced, but, caught by the loosely-strewn barb wire, they dropped
like flies and were beaten to the earth by the machine guns. The din
was indescribable. Above the rattle of the musketry combat and between
the boom of the guns could be heard the Turk, crying on his Maker as he
advanced, yelling and squealing as he retired to the Colonial shouts of
"Imshi Yallah!" and the glorious battle chorus of "Ake, Ake, Kia Kaha!"
[Illustration:
[_Lent by Capt. Boxer, N.Z.M.C._
ON WALKER'S RIDGE.
The Field Troop, N.Z.E., regrading the road to Russell's Top.]
Down the gullies on the left flank the enemy came in the dark. A
determined attack about the Fishermen's Hut would cut off No. 2
Post and let the Turkish hordes surge along the flat beach and low
ground into the heart of Anzac. The anxious garrisons detected sounds
of men scrambling down the gully. Around the posts alert ears heard
the undertone of voices. It was some time before the listeners could
determine the mutterings as undoubtedly Turkish. Into the mysteries
of the scrub volley after volley was poured. The attackers, feeling
that they were "in the air," squealed and disappeared in the direction
of the Suvla Flats. When the sun was well up, from No. 2 Post Turkish
reinforcements were discernible in the trenches opposite Walker's
Ridge. A machine gun of the Canterbury Regiment was posted to enfilade
them. The rifles of the 10th Nelson Squadron, assisted by the machine
gun, brought a devastating fire to bear on a grey-coated battalion
of the enemy lying in the trenches and in the depressions, evidently
preparing for an advance. For a few minutes a stream of lead played
up and down their ranks, causing awful havoc. The mass heaved and
swayed convulsively, then broke and stampeded to the rear, assisted in
their flight by the ever-watchful guns of the torpedo-boat destroyers,
while the machine guns from Steel's, Courtney's, Quinn's, Pope's and
Walker's, emptied belt after belt into the enemy reserves. Now was the
opportunity of the field gunners. From Howitzer Gully, from Plugge's
Plateau, from Walker's Ridge, the New Zealand Field Artillery shells
were pumped in streams. The No. 2 Battery, N.Z.F.A., though only able
to get two guns to bear, fired 598 rounds almost without intermission.
The ships were having a day out, perfect targets presenting themselves
all along the line.
Right along the two and a third miles of front the attacks melted
away--nowhere was the Anzac line penetrated. The great attempt to drive
the infidel into the sea had miserably failed. Everywhere along the
line Turks lay dead in heaps. The mounted men--Australians and New
Zealanders alike--had demonstrated that southern-bred soldiers were as
dogged in defence as they were brilliant in attack.
The night was fairly quiet, but on the 20th the attack was resumed,
when the machine gunners had it all their own way. Perhaps the enemy
remembered the tragedy of the preceding day, for when the machine guns
spluttered, the attackers broke and fled.
In the afternoon a dramatic episode occurred. At different points
in the Turkish trenches small white flags appeared. Linguists in
the enemy's ranks made known their desire for a truce to bury their
dead. At many parts in the line, particularly opposite the Auckland
Mounted trenches on Walker's Ridge, some conversation was carried on
in German. But observers noticed men crowding in the front line and
the communication trenches. It seemed that the white flag incident was
a ruse to launch a surprise attack. The white flag parties were given
two minutes to get down out of sight. Down they scurried, and once more
the musketry battle resumed its violence. As night came the searchlight
from the warships played around the Turkish trenches and brilliantly
illuminated the gullies on the flanks. Some desultory firing took
place, but the Turk had no stomach for more infidel driving.
Burying the Dead on Armistice Day.
Next morning, the look-out on the destroyer guarding our right flank
was mystified by a Turk waving a big white flag on Gaba Tepe, previous
to coming out right into the open, and well within range. After the
tremendous losses a few days previously, some of us thought that here
at last was the long-looked-for peace. After a certain amount of
justifiable hesitation on our part, a patrol went out to meet the white
flag party. The groups met along the seashore, and finally, a Turkish
officer, blindfolded, was escorted through the lines, past Hell Spit,
and along the beach to Army Corps Headquarters. He carried no proposals
for a surrender, but only for a truce to bury the dead. In the
interests of both armies this was desirable, but extremely difficult to
carry out. No Man's Land was very narrow, especially opposite Quinn's
and the Nek, and we, for our part, did not care to have inquisitive
soldiers poking about, ostensibly burying dead, but with an eagle eye
upon our front line trenches.
[Illustration: AN INDIAN DOCTOR SEARCHING FOR WOUNDED ON ARMISTICE
DAY.]
It took some days to work out the rules to be observed. They ran into
many typewritten pages, but briefly they were as follow:--
1. The suspension of arms was to be from 7.30 a.m. to 4.30 p.m., on
May 24.
2. A line was to be pegged out down the centre of No Man's Land--the
Turkish burying parties to work their side of the line, while we
worked on our side.
3. Any dead belonging to the Turks on our side of the line were to be
carried on stretchers to the centre line. The enemy was to do the same
for us, so that each side would bury its own dead, and so identify
them.
4. Rifles found on No Man's Land were to be collected, and immediately
placed on stretchers. No man was to carry a rifle in his hand. Each
side was to carry off its own rifles found in its burying area. Enemy
rifles were to have the bolts removed, and were to be then carried on
stretchers, and handed over to the original owners.
The morning of "Armistice Day" broke with a steady drizzle. At the
appointed hour fifty Turks, with Red Crescents on their arms, and fifty
Australians and New Zealanders with Red Cross armlets, met on the
extreme right. Each party had a staff officer and a medical officer.
The men carried short stakes with little white strips of calico on the
top, and, headed by the staff officers, who each walked near his own
front-line trench, the party went right down the centre of No Man's
Land, sticking in their little white flags.
By about 10 o'clock the demarcation was complete. As the party had
moved down No Man's Land, heads appeared over both parapets, and,
cautiously first, and then quite boldly, the soldiers on both sides
scrambled up on the parapets and experienced the uncanny sensation of
safety.
The burying parties struggled up the greasy clay tracks, marched out
with their shovels and their stretchers, and the day's work began in
earnest. And what a work! In some sectors the dead lay in heaps. In one
area of about an acre, three hundred bodies were tallied--mostly Turks.
"They are lying just as thick as sheep in a yard," said a Hawke's Bay
boy in the demarcation party. It was soon realized that proper burials
were out of the question, and that it was impossible to carry the
enemy's dead to the centre line. A mutual agreement was made to cover
up friend and foe, the Turk on his side and we on ours. So the Anzac
dead in the Turkish area were not identified by us; these are the men
who eventually were described as "Missing, believed killed" by the
Court of Enquiry.
[Illustration: ARMISTICE DAY, MAY 24, 1915.
These two pictures were taken by Brig.-General Ryan, of the Australian
Medical Corps. The top one shows the Turkish Staff Officer who brought
in the flag of truce. While going through our lines he was blindfolded,
according to custom, and escorted by a British Staff Officer.]
[Illustration: The bottom picture shows the burying parties at work in
No Man's Land.]
Away in the tangled gullies on our left flank, several wounded Turks
were discovered in desperate straits. These men were evidently snipers
who had been hit while crawling round in the prickly scrub past
Walker's Ridge. One man was picked up, and as he made gestures asking
for water, an N.Z.M.C. orderly lifted his head up and discovered that
his bottom jaw was almost shot away. Another wounded Turk was carried
in a distance of two miles, and most inconsiderately died as the
hospital was reached.
Very few New Zealanders were found unburied, but there was evidence
that they died game. One Aucklander was found still grasping his rifle,
which was--barrel and bayonet--firmly embedded in the body of his dead
opponent.
By midday, the heat was tropical, and the Anzac beaches were crowded
with the battalions from the trenches. The Turk was wont to boast that
he would drive us into the sea. What Enver Pasha failed to do, the
lice achieved, and the unique opportunity to get a safe wash was fully
appreciated.
Up on the hillsides the burial parties were hard at work. The chaplains
never had a busier day, searching for identity discs, and reading the
burial service. In some parts of the line the men mingled freely with
Johnny Turk. A Melbourne medico was an object of great interest to
the Turkish soldiery, as he wore the ribbons of the Medjidie and the
Osmanieh, gained in a previous war when the Turk and we were allies. A
German doctor in Turkish uniform asked for news of his whilom friends
in Sydney. The Turks had a supply of brown bread, and many exchanges
were made with the Colonials, who were very pleased to barter their
flint-like biscuits for something that would not torture their tender
gums.
The afternoon wore on, and as 3 o'clock came, we realized that our
work was nearly done--over 3000 Turks buried. By 4 p.m., everybody had
returned to the trenches, and for the next half-hour deathly silence
reigned. To all appearances the truce had been honourably kept. At
4.30, both sides delivered tremendous volleys at nothing in particular,
and settled down quietly for the night. Thus ended one of the strangest
days in the history of the campaign.
[Illustration: RENOVATING GRAVES ON TURK'S POINT.]
During the day we had been requested not to use binoculars, but all
along the line it was noticed that Turkish and German officers were
taking the bearings of our trenches and emplacements. From the Turkish
trenches on the Chessboard, officers were quite obviously marking down
our machine gun emplacements commanding the Nek and Russell's Top.
But the New Zealand machine gun officers were equal to the Turks in
cunning. During the night all the machine guns were taken down and
the crews took cover. With the dawn came the searching shells of the
Turkish Field Artillery. The empty emplacements were badly damaged,
but as soon as the guns switched on to another target, the New Zealand
gunners rebuilt their emplacements and were again ready to fire within
twenty minutes of the bombardment.
The Sinking of the "Triumph."
In war man is often made to feel his impotence. An illustration of this
occurred the day following the armistice. About midday the workers on
the beach heard "Picket boat" cried in those anxious, agonized accents
that characterize the cries of "Stretcher bearer" or "Wire," cries
that send a shiver down the spine of the most hardened. Looking out to
sea, a great column of smoke welled up from the side of the "Triumph,"
lying about a mile off shore from Gaba Tepe. It was obvious she was
hit, for at once she commenced to heel over. Glasses revealed her decks
crowded with men, her crew falling in at their stations. Swiftly from
every point of the compass came the torpedo-boat destroyers--from
Nibrunesi Point, Imbros and Helles. Our old friend the "Chelmer" nosed
into the flank of the stricken ship, and orderly, as if on parade,
the bluejackets commenced marching off. More and more boats crowded
alongside to take off the crew. Steadily the vessel heeled until her
masts were almost parallel with the water, her port guns sticking
aimlessly into the air. Suddenly she quivered from stem to stern. Her
attendants drew back quickly, as she turned completely over amidst a
cloud of spray and steam, which, clearing away, revealed her red keel
shining brightly against the blue Ægean Sea. Once again the destroyers
and trawlers closed in to pick up the men in the water. Other
destroyers, working in ever-increasing circles, engaged in a hunt for
the submarine. Presently the old craft commenced to settle at the bows.
Slowly and gracefully she slid into the depths, and the watchers on the
Anzac hills heaved a heartfelt sigh. But out there in the blue, the
gallant sailormen gave three hearty cheers as the old ship disappeared.
An irrepressible cried, "Are we downhearted?" "No," roared the crew of
the sunken ship, and a great volume of cheering rose from the vessels
gathered round.
[Illustration: THE SINKING OF THE "TRIUMPH."
The old ship, surrounded by small craft, is near the horizon on the
left of the picture.]
This disaster cast a gloom over Anzac. To see one's friends in peril
and be powerless to help caused the Colonial soldiers more pain than
any previous experience. This old ship had been such a trusty friend,
and now, in a short twenty minutes, she was gone! Men sat up on the
hill that night, cursing the Hun and all his allies!
The Taking and Losing of "Old No. 3 Post."
Between the ridge of Chunuk Bair, held by the Turk, and our No. 2 Post,
there were three other conspicuous pieces of high ground bounded on
the north by Chailak Dere, and on the south by the Sazli Beit Dere.
The highest of these was Rhododendron Ridge; the next was a little
plateau appropriately named Table Top, and nearest to No. 2, really
a higher peak of the same spur, was a Turkish post from which most
of the deadliest sniping was carried on. It was thought advisable to
occupy this ridge and deny it to the enemy. It was a hopeless position
for us--away out in a salient--and should never have been attempted.
On the night of May 28, a squadron of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles
crept up the dere and took this sniping post by surprise at the point
of the bayonet. They, in their turn, handed over to a squadron of the
Wellington Mounted Regiment, who proceeded to put the post into a
state of defence by entrenching it. The garrison was again relieved
by a squadron of the Wellingtons (9th Wellington East Coast) on the
night of May 30. Getting in about 8 o'clock at night, the men were
hardly distributed along the meagre trenches when sounds of movement
were heard. Presently, showers of hand-grenades descended on the post.
Calling on "Allah," the enemy, numbering many hundreds, surrounded
the post. The Wellingtons had no hand-grenades (the shortage of these
weapons at Anzac was deplorable), so had to depend upon their rifles.
Rushing up to the parapet and yelling their eerie cries, but never
daring to press the attack home, throwing hand-grenades and then
retreating, the Turks let the precious hours of darkness slip by.
The garrison decided to make the Turks pay a big price for the post.
The strain of hanging on through that awful night was tremendous. But
with the welcome dawn came fresh hope. All that day the garrison lay in
their trenches waiting for the final assault.
The guns from the "W" Hills broke in parts of the parapet; the
telephone wire to No. 2 Post was cut, and the Turk actually penetrated
a section of the trench, but was driven out. Things becoming
desperate--water and ammunition both running short--a message was
semaphored back to Walker's Ridge, and it was decided to attempt the
relief of the post at dusk.
[Illustration: A VIEW FROM THE LEFT FLANK.
On the left is the Sphinx; the next high ground is Plugge's Plateau,
which running down to the sea resolves itself into the point of Ari
Burnu.]
Two Wellington squadrons went out, but were held up. Later--this was
the night of May 31--two troops of the 8th (South Canterbury) Squadron
and the 10th (Nelson) Squadron proceeded to fight their way from No.
2 Outpost up to this new ill-starred outpost, now known as No. 3.
They joined forces with two Wellington squadrons, and with Turkish
hand-grenades lighting the gully, the relief party pushed aside all
opposition, got into the post, and relieved the Wellingtons. There was
to be no rest for the unlucky garrison of No. 3. On came the Turks
again, and the performance of the night before was repeated almost
without variation, the throwing of hand-grenades, calling on "Allah!"
and rushing up to the parapet, but never daring the final assault. For
some hours the inferno continued. About midnight word came through from
Headquarters that the post might be abandoned. The task of removing
the wounded presented no small difficulties, but they having been
removed down the dere, the perilous retirement commenced. In the
faint moonlight, the Turks could be seen flitting hither and thither.
Now that our retirement was commencing, their exultant yelling and
squealing burst out afresh. Down the dere slowly came the rearguard,
calmly and methodically picking off any too adventurous enemy. When the
troopers reached the "Big Sap" running out past No. 1 and 2, they lined
the two sides of the gully and the trench and waited for the Turk. A
squadron of the Auckland Mounteds now arrived, and based on No. 2 Post
and the Fishermen's Hut, the whole party made a determined stand, and
enabled the 9th Squadron, who had been fighting for forty-eight hours,
to be withdrawn.
[Illustration:
[_Photo by the Author_
THE BIG SAP RUNNING PAST NO. 2 POST.]
To the highly-strung men, many of whom had not slept for three days,
the yelling of the Turks, the ghostlike sea lapping on the beach in the
background, and the enemy jumping from bush to bush in the moonlight,
the whole business resembled a frightful nightmare. Gradually the
Turks grew tired of yelling, and retired to occupy "Old No. 3," while
the weary troopers trudged along the dusty sap to their much-needed
bivouac, leaving the squadron of the Auckland Mounted Rifles out
watching the position until daylight.
A new No. 3 Post was established by the Otago Mounted Rifles on rising
ground about 200 yards north of No. 2 Post. This became the extreme
right flank of the Anzac position until the great advance in August.