SARI BAIR
“So desperate a battle cannot be described. The Turks came on again
and again, fighting magnificently, calling upon the name of God.
Our men stood to it, and maintained, by many a deed of daring, the
old traditions of their race. There was no flinching. They died in
the ranks where they stood.”—_General Sir Ian Hamilton._
In order to follow the details of the battle of Sari Bair, it is
necessary to understand something of the configuration of the country
north-east of Anzac. At Lone Pine and Quinn’s Post the Australians
had gained a footing on the southern extremity of the Sari Bair
range. Thence it ran, increasing in height as it got further from
the sea, for about five miles to the north-east, forming the main
watershed of the Gallipoli Peninsula. From its sides started the
gullies known as Deres, which were of paramount importance in the
course of the fighting. In Spring they were foaming torrents, but in
August they were bone-dry and formed the only paths in the wilderness
by which it was possible to gain the foot of Sari Bair. The country
on each side of them was covered by impassable scrub intersected
by invisible precipices, but the sandy beds of the Deres afforded
smooth, if not easy going. In places they ran through deep ravines
but, for the most part, their banks were from four to six feet high
and lined with prickly scrub and an occasional barren olive tree.
They would have been invaluable as roads, had it not been for the
fact that long stretches of them were under constant fire from the
Turkish machine-guns on Sari Bair, and could therefore only be safely
used at night.
The principal gullies beginning from the North were Asmak Dere, Aghyl
Dere, Chailak Dere and Sazli Beit Dere. The last of these ran down
to what, on the 6th of August, was the Northern extremity of the
Anzac position. Between it and Chailak Dere, a spur left the main
ridge of Sari Bair and ran down towards the sea: after it came into
Christian hands, this spur was christened Rhododendron Ridge and
played an important part in the August fighting. The portion of the
Sari Bair range, which was joined by Rhododendron Ridge, was known
as the Chunuk Bair and here the battle was to rage most fiercely. It
culminated to the northward in a summit called Hill Q., and thence
the range trended eastward to Koja Chemen Tepe, the culminating
height of the position and the objective of the Suvla force. Half-way
down the slope of the Chunuk Bair facing the Gulf of Saros, was a
patch of cultivation known as The Farm. The whole of the seaward
face of the Chunuk Bair was covered with prickly scrub about four
feet high and cut by narrow ravines running down to the Aghyl Dere
which starts just below The Farm.
On the night of August 6th General Godley had launched his attack
northward from Anzac. By 1.30 a.m. on the 7th the mouths of the
Chailak Dere and Aghyl Dere had been seized and a strong lodgment
made on Damakjelik Bair, a detached hill between the Asmak and Aghyl
Deres. This lodgment protected the left flank of the assault on the
Chunuk Bair which was then launched.
By dawn the left assaulting column had forced its way up the Aghyl
Dere, and the Indian Infantry Brigade had occupied The Farm, while
on the extreme left the 4th Australian Brigade had reached the Asmak
Dere, and were advancing towards Koja Chemen Tepe. The advance of the
New Zealanders up the Chailak Dere had been slower, but soon after 6
a.m. they had stormed the Turkish trenches on Rhododendron Ridge, and
established themselves at the point where that ridge joins the Chunuk
Bair. At the same time they got into touch with the Indian Brigade on
their left. Preparations were made for an assault on the main Chunuk
Ridge, but the troops were terribly exhausted by their night marches
in an impossible country, and the arrival of Turkish reinforcements
made further advance by daylight impossible. It was decided to allow
the troops to rest, and attack again just before dawn on the 8th.
For this attack the New Zealanders, Australians and Indians who
had taken part in the first day’s fighting were reinforced by six
battalions of the 13th Division. On the right the assault from
Rhododendron Ridge on the Chunuk Bair was successful, and a firm
footing on the crest was gained; but the centre attack was unable to
advance much further than The Farm, and the attempt on Koja Chemen
Tepe was unsuccessful. The General resolved to attack again under
cover of darkness, and called up the two battalions of the 29th
Brigade, which had not already been allotted any duty, to take part
in it.
The Hampshires and Royal Irish Rifles had moved at 1 a.m. on the 8th
from their bivouacs in Shrapnel Gully, to Rest Gully. This gully was
situated near the southern end of the great sap which ran northward
from Anzac Beach towards what was known as No. 2 Post. The cove of
Anzac itself, between the headlands of Hell Spit and Ari Burnu,
though often swept by Turkish fire, was concealed from the enemy’s
view by overhanging cliffs. To the northward, however, the beach
was commanded throughout its length by the heights of the Chunuk
Bair, and men moved on it by daylight at their peril. In order to
facilitate movement by day, Australians and New Zealanders working
by night had dug a sap wide and deep enough to hold a mule, which ran
northward parallel with the sea for nearly a mile. This had acquired
the name of “_The Anzac Sap_.”
About 10 a.m. on the 8th, the Hampshires and Rifles fell in, and
followed Brigade Headquarters along this sap in single file, until
they reached its northern end at No. 2 Post. At this point General
Godley had established his headquarters, and here the two battalions
collected and waited for the greater part of the day. Late in the
afternoon they again moved northwards, and entered the area which had
just been won from the enemy. Here they came under fire from hostile
snipers, but worse was to come. They had been ordered to move up the
Chailak Dere, but the Turks were well aware that this was one of the
few paths by which reinforcements could approach the Chunuk Bair, and
were shelling its entrance persistently.
In small parties the men dashed through the barrage, and in most
cases got off without heavy losses. Lieutenant Graham Martyr’s
platoon of the Irish Rifles, however, was unlucky, and was almost
annihilated. Having passed this dangerous spot, the whole long
procession moved on in Indian file up the deep bed of the Dere.
Progress was slow, since the gully was half choked already with
supplies and reinforcements going up to the hills, as well as with
the wounded coming down. As dusk fell the two battalions bivouacked
on the slopes leading down to the Gully. They did not however have
much time for rest, since at 9.15 p.m. they were aroused to take
part in the assault on the Chunuk Bair. For this, three columns were
being organized, the Rifles and Hampshires being allotted to the
centre column, which was under the command of Brigadier-General A.
H. Baldwin, who had previously commanded the 38th Brigade. Besides
the two 10th Division battalions, General Baldwin had also the 6th
East Lancashires and 5th Wiltshires, which belonged to the 13th
Division. The column which was to move on the right of the centre
column was commanded by Major-General F. E. Johnston, and consisted
for the most part of New Zealanders. It was intended to operate
from and extend the territory already gained on the Chunuk Bair. To
the left a column under Major-General H. V. Cox, consisting of the
4th Australian Brigade, the Indian Brigade, and four battalions of
the 13th Division, was to attack Hill Q. at the northern end of the
Chunuk Bair.
General Baldwin’s column was entrusted with the task of moving up
the Chailak Dere and attacking Hill Q. from the south-west, with its
flanks protected by the columns on the right and left. The intention
of the Commander-in-Chief had been that this centre column should
start from the Chailak Dere and deploy behind the line already
occupied by the New Zealanders, moving thence at dawn along the crest
of the Chunuk Bair to assault Hill Q. Unfortunately, however, this
complicated manœuvre miscarried, as the guides allotted to the column
missed their way, with the result that the troops, after alternately
marching and halting all through the night, found themselves at
dawn on the 9th in the Aghyl Dere at the foot of the Chunuk. The
column on the left had been more fortunate, and its head succeeded
in reaching its objective, occupying the col which connects Hill
Q. with the Chunuk Bair. Hardly however had the Ghurkas and South
Lancashires gazed on the town of Maidos and the Dardanelles crowded
with transports bringing up reinforcements for the enemy, when they
were shelled off the position, which was promptly re-occupied by the
Turks.
Meanwhile General Baldwin’s column was closing up and getting into
formation for the attack. The men went forward with splendid spirit,
but the task they were called on to perform was beyond human power.
Not only did the enemy’s shrapnel fire redouble its force, but the
whole of the left flank was enfiladed by hostile machine-guns, which
almost wiped out the East Lancashires. In this advance many of the
officers of the Rifles were wounded. To climb the Chunuk in broad
daylight in the face of an enemy well supplied with machine-guns and
possessing observation posts from which he could direct the fire of
his still unsubdued artillery, was a harder feat than the storming
of the breach of a hostile fortress in the Napoleonic wars, since
the distance to be covered was so long and so rugged, that it was
impossible to maintain the impetus of the charge. An attempt to find
easier ground to the left failed, and so the Rifles and Hampshires
took up their position behind the crest of a small under-feature
which jutted out some three hundred yards from The Farm.
General Baldwin was accompanied to this position by General Cooper
and the staff of the 29th Brigade, who, since the whole Brigade had
been allotted piecemeal to different Commanders, came up to assist
in passing orders. At 9 a.m. a company and a half of the Hampshires
under Major Pilleau were ordered to move up the slope to the right
and try to get in touch with the New Zealanders of General Johnston’s
column. While doing so they came under heavy shrapnel fire, but
succeeded in working their way up to that part of the ridge which was
in the hands of the New Zealanders.
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL R. J. COOPER, C.V.O., C. B.
COMMANDING 29TH BRIGADE]
The position thus gained was maintained throughout the 9th, the
Hampshires holding a line down the seaward slopes of the Chunuk
Bair, and then turning almost at right angles towards the north-east
along the crest of the under-feature above The Farm. The Rifles
prolonged this line on the left to a point where it was taken
over by the two battalions of the 38th Brigade. This left flank
was somewhat in the air, as the flank-guard on the Damakjelik Bair
was more than a mile in rear of the line. The only protection to
this flank was that afforded by the Left Column under General Cox,
which had succeeded in occupying Hill Q. at dawn and had been driven
off it. These had now withdrawn to the line of the Asmak Dere, but
they were terribly exhausted. The Australians and Indians had been
marching and fighting in a tropical climate for forty-eight hours
without relief, while the New Army battalions had lost heavily,
especially in officers.
Throughout that day Baldwin’s column lay out on the face of the
Chunuk Bair. Pinned to their positions by the Turkish shrapnel
which hailed on them without respite, they suffered terribly from
the scorching rays of the sun. Shade there was none, for the scrub
was so prickly that it was impossible to crawl underneath it, while
nothing short of direct cover afforded any protection from the sun
vertically overhead. Water was terribly scarce; although wells had
been discovered in the bed of the Aghyl Dere, it was a task of great
difficulty to convey the water up to the troops, since part of the
Aghyl Dere was swept by the enemy’s fire. The torments of thirst were
increased by the fact that the only food available for the men was
salt bully beef and hard dry biscuit. It was an effort to swallow
more than a few mouthfuls, and to the weakness caused by enteritis
was added the weakness of inanition.
The casualties did not appear heavy, but they steadily mounted up,
and in the course of the day each of the 29th Brigade battalions lost
about a fifth of its strength. Night brought relief from the sun,
but no rest, for the battalions were ordered to entrench themselves
where they stood. The exhausted men were incapable of heavy labour,
but a narrow shallow trench was gradually excavated. Night too gave
an opportunity to send the wounded away, for after hasty dressing had
been applied by battalion medical officers they had, of necessity,
been obliged to await a convenient occasion for their removal. The
nearest hospital was four miles away on the shore at Anzac, and a
terrible burden thus fell on the stretcher-bearers, who had to carry
their comrades all this distance. Every man who could limp or hobble
down to the beach, walked, but the serious cases were numerous, and
the battalion establishment of stretcher-bearers (which had not been
fixed with such an abnormal campaign in view) found itself severely
taxed. During the night the New Zealand Brigade on the right of the
Hampshires, was withdrawn and relieved by part of the Wiltshires and
Loyal North Lancashires, and also by the 6th Leinsters.
Dawn came, and with it the Turkish counter-attack. Throughout the
night their artillery had thundered unceasingly, but before daybreak
it redoubled in violence. As the light grew, an enormous mass of
the enemy threw itself against the battalions holding the lodgment
effected by the New Zealanders on the crest of the Chunuk Bair,
while further hordes moving down from the north and Hill Q. attacked
Baldwin’s column at The Farm. The two battalions on the crest were
almost annihilated, and the ground they held was lost. Fortunately,
however, as was described in the last chapter, the momentum of the
attack was checked by our artillery.
The Turks moving down the crest of the Chunuk were in full view of
the fleet, and the fire brought to bear on them was so terrific
that their reinforcements were unable to penetrate the barrage.
They pressed on against Rhododendron Ridge, but were stopped by the
concentrated fire of ten New Zealand machine-guns which were placed
in position by a famous Hythe musketry expert. But although for the
time the danger was lessened and the Turkish losses were enormous,
yet the fact that the two battalions holding the Ridge of the
Chunuk had been driven back, left the right flank of the Hampshires
dangerously exposed. Although its losses were very heavy, this
company and a half which had been sent out to maintain connection
with the ridge succeeded in holding its ground.
The remainder of the Hampshires were now up in the firing line on the
right of The Farm position, but were losing very heavily. Colonel
Bewsher who commanded them had been seriously wounded in the head
about 6 a.m., and was resting before making his way down to the beach
when a wounded sergeant-major informed him that there appeared to be
no officers left unhurt. He, therefore, wounded as he was, returned
to the firing line, and discovered that although there were still
two captains with the detached company and a half, the remainder of
the battalion had not only lost all its officers but all its company
sergeant-majors and quartermaster-sergeants as well. One machine-gun
had been put out of action by a shell, but the men were holding their
ground manfully.
Meanwhile, on the left, the hostile attack developed with even
greater force. Orders had been received to send the 5th Wiltshires
to relieve the New Zealanders on the crest of the Chunuk, but one
company had been retained as its withdrawal would have left part of
the line completely unmanned. A company of the 9th Warwicks had come
up to relieve the Wiltshires, but were found to be very weak. There
were also on the left in addition to the Royal Irish Rifles, about 50
men, all that remained of the East Lancashires, and a few Ghurkas
and Maoris belonging to the left column who had retired down the hill
and joined General Baldwin.
Against these few exhausted men, less than a thousand in all, the
Turks were free to throw the whole of their reserves, since by this
time (dawn, Tuesday) it was clear that the advance from Suvla was not
likely to get much further. They came on again and again, covered
by a very heavy shrapnel fire, and again and again they were driven
back. Our losses, however, were terribly heavy and they could afford
to lose ten men to our one, for our last reserves (except for one
battalion five miles away) were already up in the firing line. Worst
of all were the casualties in officers. The dawn was misty and just
as it began to grow light General Baldwin was killed. Almost at the
same instant General Cooper fell, severely wounded in the lungs.
Colonel Bradford of the Rifles was then the senior officer with the
column, but just as he was informed that the command devolved upon
him, he, too, fell seriously wounded.
In quick succession, Major Morphy, the second-in-command of the
Rifles, received a bad wound in the thigh, and Major Eastwood, their
Adjutant, was killed. Very shortly afterwards Captain McCleverty, the
Brigade-Major, was hit by a bullet which passed through both cheeks
and broke his jaw, while Major Wilford of the Rifles, on whom the
command of his battalion had devolved and who had exhibited great
courage and resource, sustained a severe wound in the head. Colonel
Bewsher of the Hampshires, who had been wounded twice but was able
to stand, then took over the command of all that was left of General
Baldwin’s force. The oft-repeated attacks continued, nearly all
the junior officers were down, and though our thin line was never
actually pierced yet in many places the enemy came so near that they
fought with our men at close quarters. In an effort to repulse a rush
of this kind on the left about 9 a.m. Captain Gerald Nugent, Staff
Captain of the 29th Brigade, fell, revolver in hand, leading his men
forward. His death was a sorrow to the whole brigade, for he was a
man in a thousand. The surliest cynic who cultivated a grievance
against all Staff Officers found himself quite unable to resist
Nugent’s kindness of heart and wonderful charm of manner. The manner
of his death was suited to his bright and unselfish life.
About this time Colonel Bewsher came to the conclusion that the
position was untenable. On the right the enemy had re-occupied the
crest of the Chunuk Bair and were pressing the Hampshires hard, while
on the left General Cox’s column had retired to the Damakjelik Bair
in rear, leaving the Chunuk completely exposed on that flank. There
appeared nothing to prevent the Turks from establishing themselves
in the Aghyl Dere and so cutting the only line of communication. The
casualties, too, had been terrible. Every staff officer on the hill
was either killed or wounded. The Hampshires and Rifles had only four
officers left between them and the English companies were in just as
bad case. The fight had been raging for over four hours, the men were
utterly exhausted, and there was no sign of reinforcements. Colonel
Bewsher, therefore, ordered a retirement which was carried out in a
regular and orderly manner. This little mixed force, drawn from seven
different units, comprising in its number men from Winchester and
Salisbury, Birmingham, Burnley and Otago, Belfast and Khatmandu, had
held a weak position against enormous odds, with little food and less
water, for over 24 hours, and when they retired had hit the enemy so
hard that they were not pursued.
Even then they were not disposed of, for at the bottom of the hill
a staff officer (Captain Street) who was arranging to send up water
and ammunition, called to them to come on again and they responded.
The Hampshires on the right under their last officer, the Rifles in
the centre, and the Wilts and Warwicks on the left, turned their
faces again to the Hill of Death and advanced once more. The effort
was futile for by this time the Turkish line was strengthened by
machine-guns, but it was heroic, a vindication of the power of the
spirit of man to soar above hunger and thirst and the imminent fear
of death, and place itself on a level with that of the heroes.
Both battalions had suffered terribly. The Hampshires, who had
gone into action on the morning of the 9th, with a strength of
approximately twenty officers and over 700 men, had at noon on the
10th one combatant officer (Captain Hellyer) and not more than 200
men fit for duty. A few more who had lost their direction in the
retirement rejoined in the course of the following day. The Rifles
were in nearly as bad a condition. They were commanded by their
junior captain, who had only been promoted to that rank at Mudros,
and two subalterns were all the combatant officers that he had under
him. The men, too, had been driven back in small parties and had been
scattered, and it was clear that neither of the battalions was in a
position to fight again for some days. Fortunately for their personal
well-being, both of their quartermasters had survived the fight.
Lieutenant Dowling of the Rifles had toiled unceasingly in drawing
and attempting to send up rations, water, and above all, ammunition.
The Rifles, too, had obtained devoted service from their doctor,
Lieutenant Adam, R.A.M.C., who had worked like a hero in dealing with
the hundreds of cases that had passed through his hands.
The Hampshires had found their quartermaster a tower of strength.
Not only had Lieutenant Saunders worked magnificently throughout the
fight, but in the difficult days of reorganization, he turned his
hand to anything and acted as Adjutant and Company Commander and
in any other capacity in which he could be of use. In spite of the
misfortunes of his battalion he remained cheerful and imperturbable,
and it was refreshing to look at his beaming, bearded face. In
recognition for the good work he had done he was awarded the Military
Cross. A quartermaster is described as a non-combatant officer, and
his services are not always fully recognized, but in Gallipoli he
was exposed to fully as much danger as anyone else, while the load
of responsibility on his shoulders was far greater. Any negligence
on his part meant that his battalion would go hungry and thirsty and
lack ammunition at a pinch. Soldiers will agree that no man does
more important work and better deserves recognition than a good
quartermaster.
Meanwhile, the last battalion of the brigade was hurrying towards the
scene of action. At 7 a.m. on the morning of the 10th the Connaught
Rangers received orders to prepare to move at once. The detached
company, which had been doing fatigue work at Brown’s Dip all night,
was hastily recalled, and in less than an hour the battalion moved
off. It was necessary for them to take a circuitous route to the
beach for fear that the Turkish observers on Gaba Tepe should notice
that the right of the Anzac position was being weakened. At 9 a.m.
Anzac Cove was reached, and the battalion hurried on northwards. As
it entered the long sap leading to No. 2 Post, it began to realise
the severity of the fighting for the first time, for the sap was full
of wounded.
Most of these wounded, too, belonged to the Leinsters, Hampshires,
and Irish Rifles, and their number made it clear that the brigade had
suffered heavy losses. It was only, however, when checks in the march
allowed an opportunity of speaking to the less seriously injured
that the full extent of the casualties became clear. The officers
of the Rangers heard with growing sorrow that the whole Brigade
Staff were either killed or seriously wounded, and that the Rifles
and Hampshires had practically ceased to exist. They saw carried
past them, with drawn set faces, half masked by dry and clotted
blood, men who had worked and played with them at the Curragh and
Basingstoke, whose wives and children were their friends. Even in
the pale, unwashed, unshaven faces and strained and suffering eyes
of the less seriously wounded who paused to speak to them, they read
the realization of the ordeal that lay before them. Behind all was
the thought of the friends lying up on the slope of the Chunuk Bair,
whose families would never look on them again.
It was an unnerving ordeal for a young regiment, but, fortunately,
there was little time for reflection, and the Rangers hurried on. At
No. 2 Post there was a short halt, while Colonel Jourdain interviewed
General Birdwood and General Godley, who informed him that the Turks
had broken through a section of the line, and that his battalion
was placed under the command of General Cox to help him to retrieve
matters. He was exhorted to move forward as quickly as possible, as
the need for reinforcements was urgent. Accordingly, before the rear
of the battalion had extricated itself from the sap, the head was
in motion again. It must be borne in mind that except for the brief
information which the Colonel had received from General Birdwood,
officers and men alike were completely ignorant of the previous
operations. They knew nothing of the extension of the Anzac position
northward on the night of the 6th, nor of the repeated attacks on the
Chunuk Bair; above all, they were unaware that a landing had taken
place at Suvla. It was, however, clear to them that they were in new
country, for up to No. 2 Post they had moved by well-trodden paths
protected at any point of danger by saps and sandbags. Now they were
in open country, with the sea on their left, and on the right a range
of low foothills, which in places sank sufficiently to enable them
to see the ridge of the Chunuk high above them.
Here and there accoutrements hurriedly cut off a wounded man showed
that Turkish shrapnel and snipers had to be reckoned with, but there
appeared to be a momentary lull in the fighting. Past the mouth of
the Chailak Dere the Rangers hurried in single file sweating under
the pitiless sun past Bauchop’s Hill, and over a low _nek_ into the
Aghyl Dere. Here, again, their progress grew slower, for the gully
was narrow and filled with wounded and mules and resting Ghurkas. It
was stiflingly hot, and the smell of the mules and the dust, shut
in tightly between the high scrub-fringed banks of the gully, were
almost unendurable. The Rangers moved forward for a hundred yards at
a time, until at 11.15 a.m. General Cox’s headquarters were reached.
The halt there was a brief one for the Rangers were at once directed
to place themselves under the orders of Brigadier-General W. de S.
Cayley commanding the 39th Brigade, for the purpose of reinforcing
his line. Below General Cox’s headquarters, the Aghyl Dere forked
into two branches, one coming from the Damakjelik Bair, the other,
the southern branch, from the foot of the Chunuk. Along this southern
branch the Rangers went in single file for about four hundred yards,
passing an extemporized dressing-station crowded with Ghurkas in
slouch hats, and broad, baggy shorts, until they reached a point
where a spur ran down from the Damakjelik Bair and gave a certain
amount of protection against rifle fire from the Chunuk. Here,
General Cayley had established his headquarters in the narrow
protected area; in rear of it were crowded all that remained of three
or four English battalions. Above, the crest was lined by Sikhs. Into
this zone of safety the Rangers hurried, and after forming up, lay
down to rest while their Colonel went to General Cayley for orders.
The General was established in an observatory of boughs, which gave
some shelter from the view of snipers on the Chunuk, and after giving
Colonel Jourdain and the officers who accompanied him a very welcome
cup of tea, he proceeded to explain the situation.
Although General Baldwin’s column had been driven from The Farm
position, yet, apparently, it had not yet been occupied by the Turks.
It was believed that they were greatly exhausted and had been much
discouraged by the heavy losses inflicted on them by our artillery,
and it was considered that it might be possible to re-occupy The Farm
position. Accordingly “A” and “B” Companies of the Connaught Rangers
were ordered to advance up the Aghyl Dere, climb the slopes of the
Chunuk Bair as far as The Farm, and occupy the position which was
reported to have been partly entrenched. The men were much exhausted,
since they had marched about seven miles in the noonday heat without
regular halts.
They were allowed an hour’s rest, and endeavours were made to fill
their water-bottles, but very little water was obtainable, as the
allowance at Anzac had been reduced to a pint a day per man. Extra
ammunition was given out, and sandbags and entrenching tools were
carried by the men. About two in the afternoon, “B” Company, who
were to keep The Farm on their right hand, led off into the scrub on
the left of the gully. “A” Company followed them, and for about two
hundred yards were able to work along the bed of the Dere itself,
crouching under the high bank to avoid the bullets which whistled
overhead.
Although the main body of the enemy had retired behind the main
crest of the Chunuk Bair, yet they had pushed forward snipers and
machine-guns in sufficient numbers to render the advance of the two
companies a decidedly unpleasant proceeding. A sudden turn in the
direction of the gully brought the commander of “A” Company, who was
at the head of his column, face to face with a long bare stretch of
sand running for three hundred yards straight in the direction of the
Chunuk Bair, which was filled with corpses and with the equipment
that showed where a wounded man had fallen. Instinctively, he ran
forward as the bullets began to throw up the sand all round him,
and was followed by his signallers and observers and the men of the
leading section. For about fifty yards they ran on until they reached
a spot where a cross gully, running down from Rhododendron Ridge,
afforded some protection from the pitiless machine-gun fire, but in
that fifty yards half of the dozen men had fallen. Accordingly, the
subaltern of the leading platoon was sent back to warn the remainder
of the company, not to attempt to use the Dere, but to work their way
through the scrub on its right. He ran the gauntlet successfully and
the advance continued slowly.
Unfortunately, it had been impossible to give the men any definite
objective, as from below The Farm was invisible, and many of them
lost their way in the thick undergrowth, but about a platoon and a
half of each company found its way through the bushes fringing the
Aghyl Dere and commenced the ascent of the Chunuk Bair. Once they
began to climb they were comparatively free from the attentions of
the snipers and machine-guns, since the lower slopes of the hill
were dead ground, but the climb itself was almost intolerable. The
ascent was extremely steep, and covered in scrub, in which lurked
enormous boulders. The sun was still tropical, and the men, most of
whom carried picks or shovels, as well as their weapons, were heavily
laden. Often a man was obliged to lay down his rifle to haul himself
up a rock, and found it an almost intolerable burden to have to take
it up again. It was only by halting and resting every ten minutes
that it was possible to make any progress. The officers, who did not
know that they might not find the whole position in the hands of the
Turks, did their utmost to retain in the men a sufficient reserve of
energy to enable them to charge if it proved necessary. As The Farm
came in sight three hundred yards ahead, an irregular extension was
formed on the hillside, and the two companies got into touch again.
“B” on the left, “A” on the right, pressed forward to reach their
objective. It was unoccupied.
Unoccupied by the Turks, indeed, yet there were many relics of the
struggle that had been waged there at dawn. A narrow ditch hardly
a foot deep showed where an attempt had been made to entrench the
position, while scattered round it were sandbags and entrenching
tools, rifles and bandoliers of ammunition in a confusion so
unnatural that it seemed horrible. Normally, such things are
carefully stored and arranged, and even more carefully accounted for,
and to see them thrown broadcast about a bare hillside was desolate
indeed. Among them lay the men who had used them; some groaning for
water, while others, under the influence of the scorching sunshine,
had already begun to give forth the unspeakably foul sweet odour
of corruption that in those August days tainted half the hills and
valleys of Gallipoli. The sight was depressing enough, but at least
the enemy were not there, and the men would be able to rest before
they had to fight.
As the senior officer on the position was congratulating himself on
this, a concealed machine-gun opened on the right about two hundred
yards away. The right flank of “A” Company was in full view of it,
and both Captain Massy, who commanded there, and a subaltern with
him were wounded. Captain Massy, however, remained calm, and after
binding up his comrade’s wounds as neatly as a man with a bullet-hole
through his right arm was able to, he withdrew his men to join the
remainder of the company on the left. These were screened from the
direct view of the hostile machine-gunners by bushes, but the gun was
firing at every sound, which made movement, and still more digging,
impossible. Gradually, however, sandbags were filled, and a traverse
made of them, which protected the men as long as they lay still. A
few picked shots were detailed to fire at intervals into the bushes
where the invisible machine-gun appeared to be, and the knowledge
that they were retaliating encouraged them greatly. Further comfort
was given by the capture of a Turkish sniper, who had been found
lurking in the bushes behind us. None of the men had ever seen a Turk
before, and the general curiosity as to his appearance served to
distract the men’s minds from their immediate prospects.
These, as they presented themselves to the officer who found himself
temporarily in command, were by no means cheerful. The trench which
the men were supposed to hold would require at least six hours’ work
before it would give decent protection from shrapnel. It was also
badly sited and only gave a field of fire of a few yards. The men
available for work on it were few in number and very weary. There
was sufficient food and plenty of ammunition, but water was very
scarce, for those who possessed sufficient self-control to refrain
from drinking during the weary climb, had been unable to resist
the entreaties of the wounded, and had allowed them to empty their
water-bottles.
The only road by which supplies of any kind could be obtained was
the Aghyl Dere, which was swept by the enemy’s fire. In addition,
it was also known that very few reinforcements were obtainable.
Finally, both flanks of the position were “in the air,” the right
being already dominated by a hostile machine-gun, which was placed so
as to enfilade the line. It was clear that if, after dark, the Turks
were to attack, the detachment would be in a hopeless position, and
were bound to be either captured or destroyed. However, orders had
been given that the line was to be held, and there was nothing to be
done but obey them. The men were, therefore, instructed to rest until
darkness made it possible for them to improve their position, and all
ranks lay down and awaited the enemy’s attack.
Before it developed, however, General Cayley sent orders that the
detachment was to withdraw at dusk, bringing with it all the wounded
who were lying on the face of the hill. Major Money, of “B” Company,
who had now taken over the command, at once detailed a party under
Lieutenant Blake to cover the withdrawal, and as it was within an
hour of sunset, began to collect the wounded at once. These for the
most part belonged to the East Lancashire and Wiltshire Regiments,
with a few of the Royal Irish Rifles. They had lain out from dawn to
dusk under the burning rays of the Mediterranean sun without food,
water, or attention, and suffering agonies.
By the time they had been collected, the sun was setting, and the
pilgrimage of pain began. There were no stretchers, nor were even
waterproof sheets available, so that each wounded man had to be
carried by his shoulders and legs. The mountain was pathless, and in
the growing darkness the bearers made many a false step, which must
have caused torture to the sufferers. Some shrieked with pain, others
showered blessings on the heads of the men who were saving them from
an agonizing death by thirst, and in the growing dusk, the load of
misery was slowly carried to the foot of the hill. To the credit of
the Turkish machine-gunners it must be said that they made no attempt
to fire as soon as they perceived that wounded were being removed.
On this, as on other occasions in Gallipoli, we were glad to be able
to respect the chivalry of our foes. An attempt was made to bring
down some of the rifles and equipment that were scattered over the
face of the Chunuk Bair, but there were hardly enough men to carry
them, and some had to be abandoned. It was after 7 p.m. before the
covering party withdrew, being the last British troops to occupy the
Chunuk Bair. Among them was Captain Massy, who, ignoring his wound,
had insisted on remaining till all the wounded had been removed. For
his gallantry on this occasion he was awarded the Military Cross.
It was dark before the Aghyl Dere was reached, and the Rangers were
glad to find that the two remaining companies of their battalion had
been employed in entrenching a line on each side of the gully and
making sandbag traverses on each side of it. All the wounded who had
fallen in the earlier fighting had been dressed and removed. This
was a feat requiring extraordinary courage and endurance on the part
of the battalion stretcher-bearers. They had been obliged to go into
the exposed section of the Agyhl Dere under a storm of bullets, in
order to bring out the wounded, and yet they not only did so, but
often dressed the man’s wounds under fire before they removed him.
Then after the Medical Officer had treated him they had to bear their
heavy burden all the way to the beach, returning only to plunge into
the fire-swept zone again and rescue another comrade.
There were no men in the force who did their duty more strenuously
and fearlessly than the stretcher-bearers of the 5th Connaught
Rangers on the 10th of August, 1915, and officers who had grumbled
at having to allot some of their best and strongest men for
non-combatant duties realized how well it was that they had done
so. Nor must the part played by the medical officer be forgotten.
Lieutenant J. I. O’Sullivan, Royal Army Medical Corps, found himself
confronted by the débris of two brigades, but he rose to the occasion
magnificently. Unpacking his paniers under a bush just behind the
line, he not only worked on till long after dark without a rest, but
remained cheerful and encouraging through it all. Only those who
passed through his hands know what they owe to him.
So at sunset on August 10th ended the Battle of Sari Bair, which had
begun on the night of the 6th. It had been hard fighting, and Mr.
Ashmead Bartlett, the newspaper correspondent, has described it as
the hardest battle in which British soldiers have been engaged since
Inkerman. Those who took part in it, however, prefer to think of
General Godley’s restrained but deeply significant testimony:—
“I do not believe that any troops in the world could have
accomplished more. All ranks vied with one another in the
performance of gallant deeds, and more than worthily upheld the
best traditions of the British Army.”
NOTE.—Since this chapter was written, Brigadier-General Cooper
has been awarded a C.B., and Colonel Bewsher of the Hampshires,
and Major Wilford, Indian Army (attached Royal Irish Rifles) have
received the D.S.O. for their services in this action.