MUDROS AND MITYLENE
“When in Lemnos we ate our fill of flesh of tall-horned
oxen.”—_Homer._
It will now be proper to describe the doings of the Division in
somewhat fuller detail.
The immediate result of the warning received on June 27th, which was
officially confirmed on July 1st, was to throw an enormous amount of
work upon officers and N.C.O.’s. Already the gaps in our strength
had been filled up by drafts drawn from the 16th (Irish) Division,
and now it was necessary for the whole of the men to be re-equipped.
Helmets and khaki drill clothing had to be fitted, much of the latter
requiring alteration, while the adjusting of _pagris_ to helmets
occupied much attention, and caused the advice and assistance of men
who had served in India to be greatly in demand. At the same time
new English-made belts and accoutrements were issued, the American
leather equipment, which had been given out in March and had worn
very badly, being withdrawn. We had gained one advantage from the
numerous false alarms that rumour had sprung upon us, the men’s
field pay-books and field conduct-sheets were completely filled in
and ready. This turned out to be extremely fortunate, as the company
officers, sergeant-majors, and platoon sergeants found that the time
at their disposal was so fully occupied that they would have had
little leisure left for office work. The pay lists were closed and
balanced, and sent with the cash-books to the Regimental Paymaster;
any other documents which had not already been sent to the officer in
charge of records were consigned to him, and at last we felt we were
ready.
One symptom of the conditions under which we were going to fight was
to be found in the fact that we lost some of our comrades. The Heavy
Battery and the squadron of the South Irish Horse were transferred
to other divisions destined for France, while the transport, both
Divisional and Regimental, was ordered to stand fast at Basingstoke.
Worse than this, all regimental officers’ chargers were to be handed
over to the Remount Department. This indication that we were intended
for a walking campaign caused considerable dismay to some machine-gun
officers, who had invested in imposing and tight-fitting field boots,
and were not certain whether they would be pleasant to march in.
As for the men of the machine-gun detachments, their feelings were
beyond expression. The knowledge that gun, tripod, and belts would
have to be carried everywhere by them in a tropical climate deprived
them of words. However, they were too delighted to be on the move at
last to grumble for long.
In the week beginning July 5th the departure began. The trains left
at night, and battalions would awake in the morning to find tents
previously occupied by their neighbours empty. The weather had
changed to cold showers, and the men marching through the night to
the station had reason to be thankful that their drill clothing was
packed away in their kit-bags, and that they were wearing ordinary
khaki serge. The helmets, however, were found to keep off rain well.
Units were so subdivided for entraining purposes that there was
little ceremony and less music at the departure. The men paraded in
the dark, marched through the empty echoing streets of the silent
town, sometimes singing, but more often thoughtful. The memory of
recent farewells, the complete uncertainty of the future, the risks
that lay before us, alike induced a mood that if not gloomy was
certainly not hilarious. The cheerful songs of the early training
period were silent, and when a few voices broke the silence, the tune
that they chose was “God Save Ireland.” We were resolved that Ireland
should not be ashamed of us, but we were beginning to realise that
our task would be a stiff one.
The composition of the Division was as follows:—
DIVISIONAL STAFF.
G.O.C.: Lieut.-General Sir B. T. Mahon, K.C.V.O., C.B., D.S.O.
Aide-de-Camp: Capt. the Marquis of Headfort (late 1st Life Guards).
General Staff Officer, 1st Grade: Lieut.-Col. J. G. King-King,
D.S.O., Reserve of Officers (late the Queen’s).
General Staff Officer, 2nd Grade: Major G. E. Leman, North
Staffordshire Regiment.
General Staff Officer, 3rd Grade: Captain D. J. C. K. Bernard, The
Rifle Brigade.
A.A. and Q.M.G.: Col. D. Sapte, Reserve of Officers (late
Northumberland Fusiliers).
D.A.A. and Q.M.G.: Major C. E. Hollins, Lincolnshire Regiment.
D.A.Q.M.G.1: Major W. M. Royston-Piggott, Army Service Corps.
D.A.D.O.S.: Major S. R. King, A.O.D.
A.P.M.: Lieutenant Viscount Powerscourt, M.V.O., Irish Guards, S.R.
A.D.M.S.: Lieut.-Col. H. D. Rowan, Royal Army Medical Corps.
D.A.D.M.S.: Major C. W. Holden, Royal Army Medical Corps.
29TH BRIGADE.
G.O.C.: Brigadier-General R. J. Cooper, C.V.O.
Brigade-Major: Capt. A. H. McCleverty, 2nd Rajput Light Infantry.
Staff Captain: Capt. G. Nugent, Royal Irish Rifles.
Consisting of:—
10th Hampshire Regiment, commanded by Lieut.-Col. W. D. Bewsher.
6th Royal Irish Rifles, commanded by Lieut.-Col. E. C. Bradford.
5th Connaught Rangers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. H. F. N. Jourdain.
6th Leinster Regiment, commanded by Lieut.-Col. J. Craske, D.S.O.
30TH BRIGADE.
G.O.C.: Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol.
Brigade-Major: Major E. C. Alexander, D.S.O., 55th Rifles, Indian
Army.
Staff Captain: Capt. H. T. Goodland, Royal Munster Fusiliers.
Consisting of:—
6th Royal Munster Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. V. T.
Worship, D.S.O.
7th Royal Munster Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. H. Gore.
6th Royal Dublin Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. P. G. A. Cox.
7th Royal Dublin Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. G. Downing.
31ST BRIGADE.
G.O.C.: Brigadier-General F. F. Hill, C.B., D.S.O.
Brigade-Major: Capt. W. J. N. Cooke-Collis, Royal Irish Rifles.
Staff Captain: Capt. T. J. D. Atkinson, Royal Irish Fusiliers.
Consisting of:—
5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. A. S.
Vanrenen.
6th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. H. M.
Cliffe.
5th Royal Irish Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. M. J. W. Pike.
6th Royal Irish Fusiliers, commanded by Lieut.-Col. F. A. Greer.
DIVISIONAL TROOPS.
5th Royal Irish Regiment (Pioneers) commanded by Lieut.-Col. The
Earl of Granard, K.P.
DIVISIONAL ARTILLERY.
Brigadier-General, R.A.: Brigadier-General G. S. Duffus.
Brigade-Major: Capt. F. W. Barron, R.A.
Staff Captain: Captain Sir G. Beaumont.
Consisting of:—
54th Brigade Royal Field Artillery, commanded by Lieut.-Col. J.
F. Cadell.
55th Royal Field Artillery, commanded by Lieut.-Col. H. R. Peck.
56th Brigade Royal Field Artillery, commanded by Brevet-Col. J.
H. Jellett.
The 57th (Howitzer) Brigade, R.F.A., remained in England.
ROYAL ENGINEERS.
Commanding Officer, Royal Engineers: Lieut.-Col. F. K. Fair.
Consisting of:—
65th Field Company, R.E.
66th ditto
85th ditto
10th Signal Company, commanded by Capt. L. H. Smithers.
ROYAL ARMY MEDICAL CORPS.
30th Field Ambulance, commanded by Lieut.-Col. P. MacKessack.
31st Field Ambulance, commanded by Lieut.-Col. D. D. Shanahan.
32nd Field Ambulance, commanded by Lieut.-Col. T. C. Lauder.
10th Divisional Cyclist Corps, commanded by Capt. B. S. James.
There is one particular in which the British Army may fairly claim to
be superior to any force in the world, and that is in embarkation.
Years of oversea expeditions, culminating in the South African War,
have given us abundant experience in this class of work, and the
fact that even in a newly-formed unit like the 10th Division every
battalion contained at least one officer who had taken a draft to
India, helped to make things run smoothly. The voyage itself was
uneventful. For the most part the troopships employed were Atlantic
liners, and the accommodation and food provided for officers might be
called luxurious. There were, however, two flies in the ointment. The
architect of the boats had designed them rather for a North Atlantic
winter than for summer in the Mediterranean, and the fact that at
night every aperture had to be tightly closed for fear lest a gleam
of light might attract an enemy submarine, made sleep difficult. The
men, who were closely packed, found it impossible in their berths
down below, and the officer of the watch was obliged to pick his way
among hundreds of prostrate forms as he went from one end of the deck
to the other.
The second grievance was lack of deck space, which precluded anything
in the shape of violent exercise. Attempts at physical drill were
made wherever there was an inch of spare room, and for the rest
lectures and boat drill whiled away the tedium of the day. Almost
the only soldiers on board with a definite occupation were the
machine-gunners perched with their guns on the highest available
points, and keeping a keen look-out for periscopes. Responsibility
also fell upon the officer of the watch, who was obliged to make a
tour of the ship, looking out for unauthorised smoking and unscreened
lights every hour, and reporting “All correct” to the ship’s officer
on the bridge. For the rest, the foreseeing ones who had provided
themselves with literature read; officers smoked and played bridge;
men smoked, played “House” and dozed; but through all the lethargy
and laziness there ran a suppressed undercurrent of suspense and
excitement.
The bulk of the transports conveying the Division called at Malta
and Alexandria, on their way from Devonport to Mudros, but one
gigantic Cunarder, having on board Divisional Headquarters, 30th
Brigade Headquarters, the 6th Leinster Regiment, 6th and 7th Royal
Munster Fusiliers, and detachments of the 5th Royal Irish Regiment
(Pioneers), and 5th The Connaught Rangers, sailed direct from
Liverpool to Mudros, and cast anchor there on July 16th. These
troops were the first of the Division to reach the advanced base of
the Dardanelles operations, and it was with eager curiosity that
they looked at the novel scene. They were in a land-locked harbour,
which from the contour of the hills surrounding it might have been
a bay on the Connemara coast had not land and sea been so very
different in colour. Soft and brilliant as the lights and tints of
an Irish landscape are, nothing in Ireland ever resembled the deep
but sparkling blue of the water, and the tawny slopes of the hills
of Lemnos. Northward, at the end of the harbour, the store-ships and
water-boats lay at anchor; midway were the transports, and near the
entrance the French and British warships.
On the eastern shore dust-coloured tents told of the presence of
hospitals; and to the west, lines of huddled bivouacs indicated
some concentration of newly-arrived troops. The heart of the
place, from which every nerve and pulse throbbed, was a big, grey,
single-funnelled liner, anchored near the eastern shore. Here were
the headquarters of the Inspector-General of Communications, and the
Principal Naval Transport Officer; here the impecunious sought the
Field Cashier; and the greedy endeavoured (unsuccessfully, unless
they had friends aboard) to obtain a civilised meal. Next to her a
big transport acted as Ordnance Store, and issued indiscriminately
grenades and gum-boots, socks and shrapnel. At this time, no ferries
had been instituted, and communication with these ships, though
essential, was not easy. If you were a person of importance, a launch
was sent for you; if, as was more likely, you were not, you chartered
a Greek boat, and did your best to persuade the pirate in charge of
it to wait while you transacted your business on board.
We had ample time to appreciate this factor in the situation as it
was three days before we disembarked. During that time we succeeded
in learning a little about the conditions of warfare in what we
began to call “the Peninsula.” Part of the 29th Division, which
by its conduct in the first landing had won itself the title of
“Incomparable,” was back at Mudros resting, and many of its officers
came on board to look for friends. Thus we learned from men who had
been in Gallipoli since they had struggled through the surf and
the wire on April 24th the truth as to the nature of the fighting
there. They taught us much by their words, but even more by their
appearance; for though fit, they were thin and worn, and their eyes
carried a weary look that told of the strain that they had been
through. For the first time we began to realise that strong nerves
were a great asset in war.
At last the order for disembarkation came, and a string of pinnaces,
towed by steam launches from the battleships, conveyed the men
ashore. Kits followed in lighters, and wise officers seized the
opportunity to add to their mess stores as much stuff as the purser
of the transport would let them have. It was our last contact with
civilisation.
On the beach there was a considerable amount of confusion. The
western side of the harbour had only recently been taken into
use by troops, and though piers had been made, roads were as
yet non-existent. Lighters were discharging kit and stores at
half-a-dozen different points, and the prudent officer took steps to
mount a guard wherever he saw any of his stuff. In war, primitive
conditions rule, and it is injudicious to place too much confidence
in the honesty of your neighbours.
At last the overworked staff were able to disentangle the different
units, and allot them their respective areas, and the nucleus of
the Division found itself installed in the crest of a ridge running
northward, with the harbour on the east, and a shallow lagoon on the
west. Across the lagoon lay a white-washed Greek village, surrounded
by shady trees, in which Divisional Headquarters were established,
and behind this rose the steep hills that divided Mudros from
Castro, the capital of Lemnos. Further south was another village
with a church; otherwise the only features of the landscape were
a ruined tower and half-a-dozen windmills. Except at Divisional
Headquarters there was not a tree to be seen. The ground was a mass
of stones. Connaught is stony, but there the stones are of decent
size. In Mudros, they were so small and so numerous that it took an
hour to clear a space big enough for a bed. Between the stones were
thistles and stubble, and here and there a prickly blue flower. In
the distance one or two patches of tillage shone green, but except
for these everything was dusty, parched and barren. On the whole an
unattractive prospect.
However, it was necessary to make the best of it, and soon the
bivouacs were up, though their construction was made more difficult
by the complete absence of wood of any kind. The men had been
instructed to supplement the blanket, which they had brought from
England, by another taken from the ship’s stores, and the hillside
soon presented to the eye an endless repetition of the word “Cunard”
in red letters. Officers soon found it impossible to obtain either
shelter, tables, or seats sufficient for a battalion mess, and
companies began to mess by themselves. Few parades could be held, for
there were very few lorries and no animals at all in Mudros West, so
that practically everything required by the troops had to be carried
up from the beach by hand. Most of the camps were nearly a mile from
the Supply Depôt, so that each fatigue entailed a two-mile march, and
by the time that the men had carried out a ration fatigue, a wood
fatigue, and two water fatigues, it was hard to ask them to do much
more. A few short route marches were performed, but most commanding
officers were reluctant to impose on the men harder tasks than those
absolutely necessary before they became acclimatized.
[Illustration: SARI BAIR]
[Illustration: MUDROS. THE AUTHORS BIVOUAC
Already we were beginning to make the acquaintance of four of the
Gallipoli plagues—dust, (_In the background is the officers’
mess_)] flies, thirst and enteritis. Our situation on the spur
was exposed to a gentle breeze from the north. At first we rejoiced
at this, thinking it would keep away flies and make things cooler;
but soon we realized that what we gained in this respect we lost in
dust. From the sandy beach, from the trampled tracks leading to the
supply depôts, from the bivouacs to windward, it swept down on us,
till eyes stung and food was masked with it. It became intensified
when a fatigue party or, worst of all, a lorry, swept past, and the
principal problem confronting a mess-president was to place the mess
and kitchen where they got least of it.
The flies were indescribable. For a day or two they seemed
comparatively rare, and we hoped that we were going to escape
from them; but some instinct drew them to us, and at the end of a
week they swarmed. All food was instantly covered with them, and
sleep between sunrise and sunset was impossible except for a few
who had provided themselves with mosquito nets. Not only did they
cause irritation, but infection. There appeared to be a shortage
of disinfectants, and it was impossible either to check their
multiplication, or to prevent them from transmitting disease. They
had, however, one negative merit: they neither bit nor stung. If
instead of the common housefly we had been afflicted with midges or
mosquitoes, our lot would have been infinitely worse.
The third plague was thirst. In July, in the Eastern Mediterranean,
the sun is almost vertical; and to men in bivouac whose only shelter
is a thin waterproof sheet or blanket rigged up on a couple of
sticks, it causes tortures of thirst. All day long one sweats, and
one’s system yearns for drink to take the place of the moisture one
is losing. Unfortunately, Lemnos is a badly-watered island, and July
was the driest season of the year. All the wells in the villages
were needed by the Greek inhabitants: and though more were dug, many
of them ran dry, and the water in those that held it was brackish
and unsuitable for drinking. The bulk of the drinking-water used by
the troops was brought by boat from Port Said and Alexandria, and
not only was it lukewarm and tasteless, but the supply was strictly
limited. The allowance per man was one gallon per day; and though on
the surface this appears liberal, yet when it is reflected that in
1876 the consumption of water per head in London was 29 gallons,[1]
it will be seen that great care had to be exercised. Even this scanty
allowance did not always reach the men intact, for the water-carts of
some units had not arrived, and so the whole of it had to be carried
and stored in camp-kettles. In order to spare the men labour,
arrangements were made by which these camp-kettles were to be carried
in a motor-lorry; but on the primitive roads so much was spilt as to
render the experiment futile. Even in carrying by hand, a certain
amount of leakage took place. In order to control the issue of water,
most of it, after the men had filled their water-bottles, was used
for tea, which though refreshing, can hardly be called a cooling
drink. However, Greek hawkers brought baskets of eggs, lemons,
tomatoes and water melons. The last, though tasteless, were juicy and
cool, and the men purchased and ate large quantities of them.
Possibly they were in part to blame for the fourth affliction that
befell us in the shape of enteritis. Though not very severe, this
affliction was widespread, hardly anyone being free from it. A few
went sick, but for every man who reported himself to the doctor,
there were ten who were doing their duty without complaining that
they were indisposed. Naturally, men were reluctant to report sick
just before going into action for the first time; but though they
were able to carry on, yet there was a general lowering of vitality
and loss of energy due to this cause, which acted as a serious
handicap in the difficult days to come.
Some thought that this epidemic was caused by the food issued to the
men, and it was certainly possible to imagine a diet more suited
to a tropical climate than salt bully beef and hard dry biscuits.
An issue of rice was, however, sanctioned, and this boiled with
currants formed the men’s usual midday meal—the inevitable stew of
bully, cooked in a dixie with dessicated vegetables, being reserved
till the evening. The rice would have been nicer had it been cooked
with milk, but the small allowance of condensed milk available was
needed for tea. The bully, too, could have been made more palatable
had curry-powder been forthcoming, as the officers’ messes which
possessed this condiment found it invaluable in disguising the
peculiar flavour. Tinned meat is not suited to tropical climates.
However, very few officers’ messes had brought much in the way
of stores, as they were uncertain whether they would be able to
carry them, and all officers soon found themselves reduced to the
same rations as the men, supplemented by the few eggs and tomatoes
obtainable from Greek hawkers. Except for these hawkers, Mudros West
had no resources for shopping at this time. All villages were out of
bounds, and there was at this period no canteen—even a Greek one.
One advantage, however, the place possessed: the bathing was
magnificent. From 8 a.m. to 6 p.m. (or, as we were learning to call
it, from 8 to 18 o’clock), it was forbidden, as the doctors feared
sunstroke; but at six in the evening the bulk of the day’s work over,
everyone who could leave camp trooped down to a little bay. The
men undressed on the shore, the officers on a small pier which ran
out far enough to make a dive possible. The water was perfect—warm
enough to make it possible to stay in for an hour, and yet cool
and refreshing after the heat and dust of the day. The western
sun, no longer blazing fiercely overhead, made dressing and drying
a pleasure; and the walk up the hill to the evening meal in the
twilight made one feel that the world was not such a bad place after
all. There was more cheerfulness and laughter at the bathing place
than anywhere else in Mudros. Many friendships were made there, some
soon to be severed by Death, and men who had begun to harp on the
truth of Kipling’s words:
“Comfort, content, delight,
The ages slow brought gain.
They vanished in a night:
Ourselves alone remain.”
were forced to admit that pleasure and happiness had not completely
vanished from the world.
While the first comers were becoming hardened to the discomforts of
the Island, the remainder of the Division began to arrive. They had
called at Alexandria, the base of the Mediterranean Expeditionary
Force, and had left there the details allotted to the base and the
bulk of their kit, wagons and water-carts. The artillery had also
been ordered to remain in Egypt till further orders. The rest of
the 29th Brigade, with their Brigade Headquarters, arrived between
the 23rd and 29th of July, and they were followed by the rest of the
Pioneer Battalion, the Field Companies of the Royal Engineers, the
Signal Company, who found their motor-cycles more hindrance than help
on the roadless Island, the Cyclists, and the Field Ambulances. These
last no sooner arrived than they were called on to receive patients,
for the prevalent malady had already knocked some men out. It was a
severe test, but the doctors and orderlies rose to it splendidly,
providing for their patients from their own private stores when
Government supplies were not available.
The newly-arrived units were for the most part employed on fatigues.
Everything needed on the Peninsula had to be carried up to camp:
everything else, including the base kits of the units who had not
called at Alexandria, had to be carried back again to the beach,
where a dump was being formed inside a barbed wire fence. Officers
were ordered to lighten their valises, so that they could be carried
with ease by one man, and there was much cogitation as to what should
be taken and what left behind. As a matter of fact, we saw so little
of our valises after landing in the Peninsula that the careful
distinction established between essentials (bedding, spare socks
and shirt) and non-essentials (spare coat and breeches and boots)
was wasted. Most of us determined to rely on our packs, which we
stuffed with a mackintosh, razor, soap, sponge, and (in my own case)
a couple of books. From this packing, however, the 29th Brigade were
distracted by Brigade night operations, which took the form of an
attack on a hill five miles away. The march in the dark over broken
and stony ground proved very trying to the men, who had not recovered
the condition which they had lost on the voyage, and many of them
dropped off to sleep as soon as they halted. It became clear to us
that our task was likely to be an arduous one.
Meanwhile, we began to wonder as to the whereabouts of the remainder
of the Division, since half of the 30th Brigade and the entire 31st
had not landed. The transports conveying them had reached Mudros,
but owing to the shortage of water it had been decided not to land
them there, but to send them to Mitylene. The fact that it was found
impossible to concentrate three divisions at Mudros simultaneously,
illustrates the enormous increase that has taken place in the
numbers employed in modern war. The most famous military expedition
of ancient history had its rendezvous and base at Lemnos before it
proceeded to attack Troy, and it would appear probable that Mudros
Bay, the largest and best harbour on the Island, was the one used by
the fleet of Agamemnon. There seems no reason to suppose that the
water supply there has diminished, and it is certain that as the time
needed for the voyage was longer, the sailing ships and oared galleys
in which the Greek host made their way to the Trojan plain, must have
been furnished with a copious supply of drinking-water before they
set sail. Homer does not record the fact that they suffered from
thirst, and so it is clear that the whole army was able to subsist
on what proved insufficient for less than 50,000 British soldiers.
The theory of Professor Delbrück[2] that the numbers taking part
in ancient battles were grossly exaggerated, seems to rest on some
foundation.
In some respects the units that went to Mitylene were more fortunate
than the rest of the Division. They did not disembark, but remained
on board the liners which had brought them out from England, thus
securing good food and immunity from dust and flies. Mitylene,
moreover, is far more beautiful than Mudros, and its smiling farms
set in the midst of fruit trees and olive groves, were more welcome
to the eye than the bare stony hills of Lemnos. There was, too, a
larger and more friendly Greek population. Boats from the shore came
out loaded with melons, grapes, and other varieties of fruit, so that
those men who were possessed of money could get a change of diet.
The worst that the 31st Brigade and 6th and 7th Dublin Fusiliers had
to complain of, was dullness. Except for bathing and an occasional
route march on shore, there was but little to break the monotony
of shipboard life; and after a week or so in harbour, everyone was
beginning to be a little “fed-up.”
They disliked, too, the fact that they appeared to have lost the rest
of the Division, and had no information about their future movements;
but they were no worse off in that respect than the rest of us. All
that we knew was, that we were part of the 9th Corps, commanded by
Lieut.-General Sir F. Stopford. We knew little of him, but we knew
that he was an Irishman and were prepared to take him on trust.
Battalion commanders had been issued with sets of maps which, when
put together, covered the whole of the Gallipoli Peninsula and part
of the Asiatic coast; but possibly this was only a “blind.” Rumours,
of course, were plentiful and very varied: a strong favourite was one
which may conceivably have been encouraged by those in authority,
and which suggested that we were intended to make a descent on
Smyrna. The fact that the remainder of the Division were known to
be at Mitylene tended to confirm this, though there were sceptics
who flouted this view and declared that we were to land near Enos in
order to co-operate with the Bulgarian Army.
We had already been informed by irresponsible individuals that
Bulgaria had declared war on Turkey. All these rumours undoubtedly
tried the nerves of the troops, but secrecy was absolutely essential.
The Island was not entirely under Allied control, a considerable part
of the population were Turks, and any leakage of information would
have proved fatal to the General’s plans. As it was, we could see
in the evening, as the ferry boats sailed out with their loads of
reinforcements past the cheering battleships, bonfires kindled on the
heights in order to inform the enemy on the mainland of the numbers
and strength of the troops being moved. Some of us, as we watched
them, recalled the beacons which signalled to Argos from the same
peaks the news that Troy had fallen, and wondered if the day was soon
to come when they would announce the capture of Constantinople.
In order that the movements of the Division may be understood, it is
now necessary to give a short summary of the plan of campaign adopted
by General Ian Hamilton; but it must be borne in mind that at the
time regimental officers and men knew nothing of what was intended.
The objective of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force was to secure
the high ground commanding the Narrows of the Dardanelles, and to
silence or capture the Turkish batteries which barred its passage to
the Fleet. In order to achieve this object, Sir Ian Hamilton had
at the end of April landed the bulk of his forces at the Southern
extremity of the Gallipoli Peninsula. The landing was achieved by the
29th Division, much assisted by a subsidiary landing on the Asiatic
coast executed by a French Division. On the following day the French
re-embarked and joined the British in Gallipoli.
At this period Sir Ian Hamilton had at his disposal at Cape Helles
the 29th Division, the 43rd (East Lancashire) Territorial Division,
the Royal Naval Division, and two French Divisions. With these
troops, he made repeated assaults on the Turkish positions, on
Achi Baba, but although he succeeded in considerably enlarging
the area held by him, the main Turkish defences remained intact.
Reinforcements in the shape of the 52nd (Lowland) Territorial
Division and the 29th Indian Brigade hardly did more than compensate
for wastage due to wounds and disease; and by the beginning of
July it was clear to the Commander-in-Chief that, in spite of the
desperate courage displayed by his troops, little was to be gained by
keeping on hammering at Achi Baba. If it were won it would only be at
a terrific cost, and its capture would not mean decisive victory, as
behind lay another and taller mountain, Kilid Bahr, which barred the
way to Maidos and the Narrows.
[Illustration: SARI BAIR FROM SUVLA
(_From a water colour by Captain Drummond Fish, Royal Irish Rifles_)]
Fortunately, Cape Helles was not the only foothold that we had
gained in the Peninsula. While the landing there was taking place on
April 25th the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, under General
Sir William Birdwood, had succeeded in establishing itself on shore
about a mile north of Gaba Tepe, about half-way up the western coast
of Gallipoli. It was a marvellous achievement for troops who had had
little more than six months’ training, but in physique and courage
Australians and New Zealanders are unsurpassed by any soldiers in the
world, and the conditions under which they were called on to fight
made initiative and endurance of greater value than rigid discipline.
In their first success they pressed on half-way across the Peninsula;
but the ground that they occupied was too great in extent to be held
by two Divisions, and they were forced to fall back to the coast.
There they held an irregular semi-circle drawn at a radius of about
a mile from the little cove, christened in their honour _Anzac_. In
parts, the Turkish lines were close to the beach, and the Australians
clung to the crest with nothing but a precipice between them and
the sea: elsewhere a narrow salient pointed inland into a tangle of
hills and gullies, meeting with the usual fate of salients in being
bombarded from both flanks. As a matter of fact, the whole Anzac
position was a salient, and even the beach was regularly swept by the
enemy’s artillery and pestered by snipers posted on the hills to
the northward. However, small as the area gained was, it provided a
foothold from which Sir Ian Hamilton could launch his next attack.
The plan adopted for this was as follows:—
He proposed to send to Anzac as many reinforcements as space and
water would permit, smuggling them in under cover of darkness. This
done, he would take advantage of the absence of moonlight on the
night of the 7th of August to break out northward from Anzac and
seize the backbone of the Peninsula—the high ridge of Sari Bair. This
hill ran north-east from Anzac for about four miles, and from its
highest point commanded Maidos, the Narrows, and the whole of the
lines of communication by which the Turks on Achi Baba were supplied.
At the same time, the remainder of the reinforcements for whom there
was not room at Anzac, were to effect a landing at Suvla Bay about
six miles up the coast, advance in a south-easterly direction across
the plain, and establish themselves on the northern end of the Sari
Bair ridge, thus protecting the flank of the Anzac force. While
the Turks were known to be in strength opposite Anzac, and to have
reserves at Maidos, it was believed that Suvla Bay was weakly guarded.
Sir Ian Hamilton was able to dispose of the following troops to
execute this operation. He had at Anzac the two Divisions of the
Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, and reinforced them by the
29th Indian Infantry Brigade from Cape Helles. The reinforcements he
received, and was still receiving, from England, consisted of the
10th, 11th and 13th New Army Divisions, together with the infantry
of the 53rd (Welsh) and 54th (East Anglian) Territorial Divisions.
The last of these Territorials were not due to reach Mudros till
August 10th—three days after the commencement of operations. The
whole of these reinforcements on August 1st were either still at sea,
or divided between the islands of Imbros (16 miles from Gallipoli),
Lemnos (60 miles) and Mitylene (120 miles away).
The Commander-in-Chief decided to reinforce the two divisions already
serving at Anzac under Sir William Birdwood, by the Indian Brigade,
the 13th Division and the 29th Brigade of the 10th Division. All
these troops had to be conveyed to Anzac, and hidden there before the
commencement of operations. To the landing at Suvla Bay he allotted
the 11th Division supported by the 10th Division (less one brigade).
The 53rd and 54th (Territorial) Divisions were retained as general
reserve. The control of the operations at Anzac was entrusted to
Sir W. Birdwood, who placed Major-General Sir A. Godley in charge
of the attack on Sari Bair. The troops allocated to this operation
were the Australian and New Zealand Division, two Brigades of the
13th Division, and the Indian Brigade. The Anzac position was to be
held, and the feint attack on the Lone Pine position executed by
the 1st Australian Division. The 29th Brigade (10th Division) and
38th Brigade (13th Division) were held in reserve. At Suvla, Sir F.
Stopford was in command, and it was decided that the 11th Division
which was concentrated at Imbros should execute the first landing,
and that the 30th and 31st Brigades of the 10th Division should
arrive from Mudros and Mitylene at dawn in support.
It will be seen how great a part in these operations was to be
played by newly-formed units which had had no experience of war. The
Australians, New Zealanders, and Indians had been in the Peninsula
for three months, and though their ranks had been thinned yet those
who remained were hardened and acclimatized. The New Army and
Territorial Divisions had come straight from England, and though
the 13th Division had spent ten days in the trenches at Helles, the
remainder as units had never heard a shot fired in anger. It is true
that they had many experienced soldiers in their ranks. The General
Commanding the 10th Division had seen the last warriors of Mahdism
lying dead on their sheepskins around the corpse of their Khalifa.
One of the Brigadiers had witnessed the downfall of Cetewayo’s power
at Ulundi; another had marched with the Guards Brigade across the
desert to Tel-el-Kebir; while the third had played his part in the
desperate fighting outside Suakim in 1884. Nearly all the Colonels
and many of the Company Commanders had served in the South African
War, and so had a number of the senior N.C.O.’s. Nevertheless, the
men, as a whole, were inexperienced, and the organization of the
units had not been tested under the stern conditions which prevailed
in the Peninsula. To attempt the landing at Suvla with untried
troops, and staffs which had not been tested on service and were not
in the habit of working together, was a great adventure; but the
prizes of victory were great.
One thing was certain: never did soldiers go forth to battle with
sterner and more resolved determination to maintain the honour of
their country and their regiment unsullied than the men of the 10th
Division. It was the first trial of the New Army in a great battle.
We remembered the traditions of our regiments—traditions dearly
gained and dearly cherished by generations of Irish soldiers. On the
colours of the Royal Irish Fusiliers blazed the glorious name of
Barrosa, and the Connaught Rangers cherished the memory of Salamanca
and the storming of Ciudad Rodrigo and Badajoz. The Royal Irish, the
oldest Irish regiment of the line, had fought at Namur and Blenheim,
and there was no lack of glory won in more recent fighting for the
Dublins round Ladysmith and the Inniskillings at Pieter’s Hill had
performed deeds never to be forgotten. Each and every regiment had
had its name inscribed on the scroll of fame by the men of the past:
the 10th Division were resolute that their Service battalions should
be worthy of those imperishable traditions.