SUVLA BAY AND CHOCOLATE HILL
“Death is nothing; but to live vanquished and without
glory is to die every day.”—_Napoleon._
If you sail up the western coast of the Gallipoli Peninsula, soon
after passing Anzac Cove, you will notice that the hills which have
fringed the shore all the way from Cape Helles begin to run further
inland, and that a gradually widening strip of level ground becomes
visible between the cliffs and the sea. The coast line, too, which
has hitherto pointed north and south, turns in a north-westerly
direction, and thus increases the extent of plain until it culminates
at the end of four miles in a cape known as Nibrunesi Point. Two
miles north of Nibrunesi is another promontory called Suvla Point,
and these are the two extremities of a semi-circular bay, which had
no name on the original maps issued to the army, but which was soon
to be well known as Suvla Bay. It is a name which has brought sorrow
to many homes, and which will be perpetually associated with failure,
but there are many glorious memories associated with it.
There are old and historic regiments that think more proudly of
Maiwand and Chillian-wallah than of victories gained with less stern
fighting; and it may well be, that in the future the four Fusilier
regiments from Ireland and the Royal Irish Regiment will be glad to
remember that their service battalions fought at Suvla. A year later,
at Salonica, when the gates of the Supply Depôt were christened after
great battles of the war, the name of Suvla was thought not unworthy
to be associated with those of Ypres and Verdun. Greater glory no man
could ask for, and none of the few survivors of the 10th Division
could pass that gate without a throb of pride.
Suvla was well suited to a landing, since the beach shelved gently
and offered a long slope of sand on which lighters could run ashore.
West of Nibrunesi Point an isolated hill, known as Lala Baba, rose to
a height of a hundred and fifty feet close to the shore, while behind
this was the curious feature known as the Salt Lake. In August, this
was dry and presented a surface of white sticky mud nearly a mile
across gleaming brightly in the sun. North-east of the Salt Lake the
ground rose gently till it culminated in Tekke Tepe, nine hundred
feet high and four miles inland. South of Tekke Tepe and about three
miles east of the Salt Lake, was the village of Anafarta Saghir in
a cultivated valley. South of this again was a lower ridge known
as Scimitar Hill, and then another valley containing the village of
Biyuk Anafarta. South of Biyuk Anafarta the ground rose steeply to
form the main chain of the Sari Bair. Between the two Anafartas and
the Salt Lake was a cultivated plain, studded with little cornfields
and isolated olive trees, but from this plain, nearly two miles
inland, rose two isolated hills, about two hundred feet high, known
as Yilghin Burnu (or Green Hill) and Chocolate Hill.
[Illustration: (map of Suvla Bay area.)]
The landscape was finally framed by a high crest running inland in a
north-easterly direction from Suvla Point, falling steeply in cliffs
to the Gulf of Saros on the north, but presenting a gentler slope
to the southern plain. This ridge reached a height of 400 feet near
the sea and was there called the Karakol Dagh, while further inland,
where it maintained an average height of 600 feet, it was known as
the Kiretch Tepe Sirt. From its crest could be seen the whole of the
plain enclosed by Tekke Tepe, Sari Bair and Damakjelik Bair, on which
the battle was destined to be fought.
[Illustration: SUVLA, SHOWING LALA BABA AND THE SALT LAKE
(_From a water colour by Captain Drummond Fish, Royal Irish Rifles_)]
The Commander-in-Chief had planned that the transports conveying the
11th Division from Imbros were to leave as soon as night fell on
the 6th, and effect their landing under cover of darkness. The 10th
Division, having a longer voyage (Mudros being 60 and Mitylene 120
miles away) were intended to reinforce them on the following day.
It was believed that the Turks would be taken by surprise, and that
little or no resistance was to be anticipated. Three landing places
had been arranged for; one known as Beach A in Suvla Bay itself, the
others, Beach B and Beach C, on the shore south of Nibrunesi Point.
The three Brigades of the 11th Division landed simultaneously, and
met with slight resistance from a Turkish picket entrenched on Lala
Baba. The hill was, however, taken with the bayonet, and the whole of
the beaches made good, while the 11th Manchester Regiment drove the
enemy’s outposts on the Karakol Dagh back on to the Kiretch Tepe
Sirt. By the time this much had been gained, day dawned and the first
portion of the 10th Division began to appear on the scene.
This consisted of the 31st Brigade and the two battalions of Royal
Dublin Fusiliers, which had been waiting at Mitylene, the whole force
being under the command of Brigadier-General F. F. Hill. Early in
the afternoon of the 6th, the battalions had left the transports,
on which they had spent nearly a month, and transferred themselves
to trawlers and channel steamers. At sunset they weighed anchor and
steamed northward, all, except a few on board, being completely
ignorant of their destination. The lights on the shore told them that
they had passed Achi Baba, and as they steamed by Anzac, the noise
of battle at Lone Pine and on Sari Bair reached them from afar. Just
as the pale morning light began to make it possible to distinguish
the difference between sea and land, the ships anchored off Nibrunesi
Point.
In the original plan of operations it was designed that the 11th
Division should form the right wing and the 10th the left of the
advance, and with this scheme in view it had been arranged to land
the 10th on Beach A, inside Suvla Bay. The landing at Beach A during
the night had, however, been considerably delayed owing to the fact
that many of the lighters had run aground in the shallow waters of
the bay, and the Naval Authorities had, therefore, decided to land
General Hill’s force on Beach C below Nibrunesi Point. At the same
time, General Hill was directed to reinforce the 11th Division,
placing himself under the orders of Major-General Hammersley, who
commanded that unit.
The process of disembarkation began about 5.30 a.m., the first two
lighters taking to the shore a company of the 6th Inniskillings and a
company of the 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers, as well as General Hill and
his staff.
It was at once clear to all that the Turks had not been completely
taken by surprise. The scrub which covered the slopes of all the
surrounding hills, combined with the scattered olive groves to
make it impossible to detect the numbers of the enemy, but it was
obvious that they were well supplied with artillery. Their shrapnel
was bursting fiercely over the men of the 11th Division as they
moved forward, and as soon as the lighters reached the beaches, an
effective barrage was at once established there. Even the troops
awaiting disembarkation were under fire, and suffered the painful
experience of having to lie down, closely packed together, and unable
to retaliate. The lighters were obvious and easy targets, and in
one boat alone the 7th Dublins lost an officer and seventeen men.
On the whole, however, the force was lucky, and the casualties
on landing were not heavy. Little could be done to keep down the
hostile artillery fire, since the enemy’s guns were well concealed,
and but few of our batteries had landed. Two mountain-guns on Lala
Baba kept up a constant fire, and the warships co-operated, though
lack of facilities for observation rendered their fire comparatively
ineffective.
General Hill reached the landing place two hundred yards south of
Nibrunesi Point about 6.30 a.m. Leaving orders for units as they
landed to rendezvous on the seaward side of Lala Baba, he went in
search of General Hammersley in order to ascertain his wishes. At
this time the Turkish detachments, which had been watching the
beaches, were retiring slowly across the wooded plain which stretches
between the Salt Lake and Anafarta Saghir, pursued by the 11th
Division. This pursuit, however, was considerably impeded by the fact
that two small eminences, each about a hundred-and-sixty feet high,
about half-a-mile from the south-eastern corner of the Salt Lake,
were still in the enemy’s hands. These positions were afterwards
known as Chocolate Hill and Green Hill respectively, the Turkish name
for the range being Yilghin Burnu. As long as the Turks held these
knolls, they were in a position to bring enfilade artillery fire
to bear on the advance across the Anafarta plain; and accordingly
General Hill was directed to co-operate with two battalions of
the 11th Division in their capture. This order had unfortunately
the result of making any future junction with the portion of the
Division under Sir Bryan Mahon’s command impossible, since that was
directed to guard the left flank of the advance, while General Hill’s
force was to move to the extreme right. Owing to this detachment of
a Brigade and a half, the work of the Staff tended to become more
difficult.
By the time that General Hill rejoined his force with these orders,
he found that the 6th Inniskillings and 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers
had reached the rendezvous under Lala Baba. Two companies of the
7th Dublins under Major Lonsdale, the second-in-command, had also
arrived there, and the remainder of the battalion, followed by the
6th Dublins and 6th Royal Irish Fusiliers, were coming up. The latter
unit had been put ashore some way down the beach, and had had to
march a considerable distance in order to reach Lala Baba.
The process of disembarkation and assembly had naturally taken a
considerable time, and it was not till close on noon that the advance
began. In order to reach the northern shores of the Salt Lake, and
get in touch with the 11th Division, the units of General Hill’s
force had to pass over a narrow neck of land between the Salt Lake
and the sea, on which the hostile artillery had carefully registered.
Every minute it was swept by bursts of shrapnel, and the only way
in which it crossed was by a section at a time rushing over it and
trusting to luck. It was a trying ordeal for young troops engaged in
their first action, but they faced it cheerfully. The 7th Dublins in
particular were much encouraged by the example of their Colonel. As
an old soldier, he knew that there were times when an officer must
be prepared to run what would otherwise appear unnecessary risks; so
while everyone else was dashing swiftly across the neck, or keeping
close under cover, it is recorded that Colonel Downing—a man of
unusual height and girth—stood in the centre of the bullet-swept
zone, quietly twirling his stick. The sight of his fearlessness must
have been an inspiration to his men.
As soon as each battalion had crossed the neck, it formed up on the
low ground north of the Salt Lake, under the slight amount of cover
afforded by a low eminence known as Hill 10. When all had got across,
the advance eastward began. The crossing of the neck had occupied
a good deal of time, and it was close on 3 p.m. For more than four
hours the sun had been directly overhead, a blinding glare was
reflected from the shining surface of the Salt Lake, and the heat
was almost overpowering. Few of the men had slept during the night,
since excitement and the discomfort caused by their closely-packed
quarters on board the fleet sweepers had combined to keep them
awake. Except for a cup of tea about 3 a.m., and a mouthful hastily
swallowed before moving off, they were fasting, and already many of
the more improvident had emptied their water-bottles. In addition,
these young soldiers who had never seen war before, had been since
four in the morning exposed to shrapnel fire, with but little chance
either of taking cover or of retaliating. They had seen their
comrades fall stricken at their sides without the consolation of
knowing that the enemy was suffering to an equal extent. However, the
prospect of action was encouraging, and it was with confident faces
that they turned towards the foe. Their one desire was to come to
close quarters with the enemy on their immediate front, but he was
invisible.
From the low ground across which they were moving little could be
seen but the masses of scrub backed by the semi-circle of hills, and
only broken by the minarets of Anafarta. The three leading battalions
(6th Inniskilling Fusiliers, 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers and 7th
Dublins) crossed the dry bed of the Asmak Dere, and began to turn
southward towards Chocolate Hill. Up to this point the left flank of
the movement had been protected by the troops of the 11th Division,
who were advancing in the direction of Anafarta, but every yard
gained to the southward tended to throw this flank more and more into
the air. Though invisible, the enemy was making his presence felt.
Round white balls of shrapnel were continually forming overhead, and
out of the dense bushes rifle bullets came whizzing past the men’s
heads. Now and then a Turkish sniper was caught, sometimes festooned
in boughs to enable him to escape notice; but the casualties caused
by snipers were not so serious on the first day as they became later.
The heaviest losses were caused by the artillery, for near the sea
the scrub was thinner, and the long lines of men slowly advancing
were plainly visible to the enemy’s observers on the surrounding
hills. Occasionally too, a Taube buzzed overhead, making its
observations with comparative impunity, since except on the ships,
there were no anti-aircraft guns.
Still the men pressed on, driving the Turks through the scrub before
them. It was unpleasant work, particularly for officers, since little
or nothing was known, either of the country or of the strength of
dispositions of the enemy, and at any moment a platoon might have
found itself confronted by a heavy counter-attack launched from the
depths of the scrub, or enfiladed by hidden machine guns. Also, it
proved a good deal harder to keep in touch with other units than it
had in training days at the Curragh or in the Phœnix Park. The danger
of pushing on too fast and finding oneself isolated was no imaginary
one, but was alarmingly illustrated by the disaster which befell
the 1st/5th Norfolks four days later. Nor did the tropical heat,
which wore out and exhausted the men, help to quicken the movement.
All these considerations combined with the pressure exercised by the
enemy on the left flank of the Royal Irish Fusiliers tended to make
the advance slow.
The dispositions of the force for the attack were as follows:—
On the right “A” and “B” Companies of the 6th Royal Inniskilling
Fusiliers were in the firing line, supported by “C” and “D” Companies
of the same unit; and by the 6th Royal Irish Fusiliers who had been
brought up from the reserve. The 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers were
on the left, having “A” and “B” Companies in the firing line and
“C” and “D” in support. Owing to the fact that the left flank was
exposed, this battalion was gradually being compelled to face in
a south-easterly direction, with the result that a gap began to
appear between it and the 6th Inniskillings. This gap was filled by
“A” Company of the 7th Royal Dublin Fusiliers, closely supported
by “D” Company (“The Pals”) of the same unit. The 6th Royal Dublin
Fusiliers, who had been the last to come ashore, were still in
reserve, and the 5th Inniskillings had not yet landed.
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL F. F. HILL, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O.
COMMANDING 31ST BRIGADE]
Steadfastly the Fusiliers went forward, moving on a line parallel
to that which they had taken in the morning, but in the opposite
direction. As they passed the Salt Lake, the Inniskillings, who were
on exposed ground, suffered severely, as many of the men stuck in the
swamp. Land-mines, too, which exploded on contact, were encountered
and caused losses, while the shrapnel burst overhead unceasingly.
Nothing, however, could have been more encouraging to the men than
the demeanour of their leader. Wherever the danger was greatest
General Hill was to be found, calm and collected, trying to save the
men as much as possible. His fearlessness, his complete disregard of
personal danger, set an inspiring example, and officers and men alike
went forward more cheerfully, thanks to the lead given them by their
General.
As the advance continued high explosive shells were mingled with the
shrapnel, and though they did not claim so many victims, they were
infinitely more trying to the strained nerves of the weary men in
the ranks. By 5 p.m. they had come within 300 yards of the hill, and
were under a heavy rifle fire. By this time the men were very weary.
They had had a long voyage of 120 miles under most uncomfortable
conditions, they had been under unceasing artillery fire for more
than twelve hours, they had marched more than five miles burdened
by rifle and ammunition through the noon of a tropical day, and it
was no wonder that they were exhausted. Chocolate Hill, too, was a
formidable proposition: though only a hundred and sixty feet high,
it rose steeply from the plain, and it was now obvious that it had
been carefully prepared as a defensive position, for its sides
were seamed by trenches. Though it was impossible to ascertain how
strongly those trenches were held, yet it was clearly imperative that
the men should have a rest before making the assault.
While the fleet and the batteries that had now been landed bombarded
the position, the men of General Hill’s force lay down in their ranks
on the sun-baked ground, firing a shot from time to time, but with
abundant leisure to look about them. On their right they could see
the white houses and tiled roofs of Anafarta Saghir, while to the
left they gazed across the shining white surface of the Salt Lake,
past Lala Baba, to the bay crowded with warships and transports and
hurrying launches, and to the calm and splendid peak of Samothrace.
Many of “D” Company (“The Pals”) of the 7th Dublins were men who had
taken degrees at Trinity or the National University, and they may
well have recalled past studies and thrilled to remember that the
word “Samothrace” had always been associated with Victory. Most of
all, however, they watched the hill in front of them and wondered
what fate might have in store for them there.
At last the bombardment ceased and the lines rose. General Hill had
ordered that at all costs the position was to be taken before dark,
and reinforced by two battalions of the 11th Division at 7 p.m. the
charge began. On one flank the Inniskillings and on the other the
Irish Fusiliers pressed forward. “A” Company of the 7th Dublins,
led by Major Harrison, a splendid soldier, closely supported by
“The Pals” under Captain Poole Hickman (a barrister who had served
in the ranks of the Company which he now commanded) made for the
centre of the hill. The gleaming line of bayonets recked little of
the Turkish fire, but rushed onward up the slopes. The Turk, on the
defensive always, stands his ground well, and in more than one place
the bayonets crossed; but the rush of the Irish charge was not to be
denied. Fatigue and thirst were forgotten as the Fusiliers, exulting
in the force of their attack, dashed over trench and communication
trench until the crest of the hill was gained.
As they reached it, the sun sank behind Samothrace, and the impending
darkness made further pursuit fruitless. There was much work to be
done in the short Southern twilight, for the hill was a maze of
trenches and dug-outs, with paths leading everywhere and nowhere, so
that it was hard to find one’s way. Outposts were hastily detailed
and pushed forward over the crest, and the battalions which were much
mixed, after a hurried reorganization, bivouacked on and around the
hill that they had taken. Their work, however, was by no means at
an end, for it was necessary to make arrangements for bringing up
food and water, to replenish ammunition, to bury the dead, and to
collect the wounded. This last was by no means a pleasant task, since
they were scattered all over the area across which the attack had
taken place, and in the darkness it was easy for an unconscious man
lying under a bush to escape notice. Here, as everywhere, however,
the stretcher-bearers worked magnificently, and the doctors who
had marched with their units all day, settled down to a night of
strenuous labour. It is impossible to exaggerate the devotion to duty
displayed by the regimental Medical Officers: they utterly ignored
their own fatigue in order to ease the sufferings of their comrades.
While they were working, the task of replenishing supplies was going
forward, though it proved to be one of considerable difficulty. The
heaviest share of the burden fell on quartermasters of units and
on the staff at the beach, who were left to regulate this matter.
The night was pitch dark, and lighters were discharging their loads
at various points along two miles of beach, so that it was by no
means easy to find the stores required, or when they were found
to entrust them to the representative of the unit that required
them. Fortunately, however, a considerable surplus of rations and
ammunition had been brought on the fleet sweepers from Mitylene,
and this was divided among quartermasters. It was then necessary to
have it sent up to Chocolate Hill, and since no animals or transport
of any kind were available, this task became one of considerable
difficulty. However, the men of the 6th Dublins, who had been in
reserve during the day, were employed on this service, and their
fatigue parties toiled throughout the night transporting the heavy
boxes over the two-and-a-half miles of broken ground that intervened
between the beach and the hill.
The crux of the whole situation was water. The single water-bottle
that each man had brought ashore had long been empty, and all were
parched with thirst. Though some water lighters had run aground in
the bay, others had reached the shore, but there were no vessels of
any kind in which the priceless fluid could be carried up to the
firing line. In view of the facts that the position had only been
captured at dusk, and had barely been consolidated, and that it was
reasonable to expect that the enemy would counter-attack, it was felt
that it was impossible to send men down to the beach to fill their
water-bottles, and yet there appeared no method by which the water
could be conveyed to the position. Petrol cans and biscuit-tins were
not forthcoming, and though Lieutenant Byrne, the Quartermaster of
the 6th Dublins, tried the experiment of sending up water in empty
small-arm ammunition boxes, it was not wholly successful. At last
the camp-kettles belonging to units came ashore, and by utilizing
these, a scanty supply of water was sent up into the firing line.
This work of organizing the supply of water, food and ammunition
occupied the whole of the night of the 7th, and it was not till
late on the 8th that it was complete. The main responsibility for
it so far as General Hill’s force was concerned, rested on Capt. T.
J. D. Atkinson, the Staff Captain of the 31st Brigade. He received
invaluable assistance from Lieutenant and Quartermaster R. Byrne of
the 6th Dublins, who on this, as on many other occasions, displayed
such conspicuous ability and energy as to gain him the Military Cross.
Meanwhile, units began to take stock of their losses. Judged by the
scale of later fighting in the Peninsula the casualties were not
very heavy, though at first sight they appeared formidable enough.
However, having regard to the fact that the troops had been under
constant shell fire for twelve hours and at the end of it had
taken an entrenched position by assault, the force could consider
itself fortunate in not having suffered more severely. The bulk of
the wounds were caused by shrapnel, which tended to confirm the
impression that the hostile infantry who held Chocolate Hill were not
very numerous. Had they been in equal strength to our men and been
well supplied with machine-guns, the losses sustained in the attack
must inevitably have been far greater. Nevertheless, the capture
of the Chocolate Hill-Green Hill position was a highly creditable
performance for young troops who were receiving their baptism of
fire. When it is remembered that they had been on the move throughout
the greater part of the day in a temperature of well over 100°, the
dash and determination exhibited by all the Irish regiments engaged
augured well for their future.
Unfortunately, several senior officers had fallen. The 7th Dublins
lost Major Tippett, who had served for years in the old Dublin City
Militia, and had left the security of a political agent’s post
in an English country constituency to die in his old regiment.
Lieutenant Julian of the same battalion, who died of his wounds, was
a young officer of great promise, whose death was deeply mourned.
The 5th Royal Irish Fusiliers, who had suffered severely from the
enemy on their left flank, lost Major Garstin killed; and their
Adjutant and nearly a dozen more officers wounded. In traversing
the open ground by the Salt Lake and in the assault on the hill,
the 6th Inniskillings had also sustained many casualties. Colonel
Cliffe (destined to die later in France) was wounded, and so was
Major Musgrave, his second-in-command; while half-a-dozen more
officers were _hors de combat_. One of these was the Quartermaster,
Lieutenant Dooley, who was struck by shrapnel while superintending
the unloading of ammunition from a lighter on the beach.
While Chocolate Hill was being attacked, the remainder of the
Division was hotly engaged to the northward.
When Sir Bryan Mahon arrived from Mudros with the 6th and 7th Royal
Munster Fusiliers and the 5th Royal Irish Regiment, he found that
the force under General Hill had already landed, and was in action.
Nothing remained of the Division which he had raised and trained for
nearly a year, but the three battalions which he had brought with
him and the 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, which had not begun to
disembark. It was an extraordinary position for an officer who was
a Lieutenant-General of three years’ standing, and had commanded a
division for more than six years, to find himself entering into an
action with only four battalions under his command, the whole of the
rest of his command having been diverted elsewhere. However, he made
the best of the situation and proceeded so far as the force at his
disposal would permit, to carry out the task which had been allotted
to the Division, namely advancing on the left of the 11th Division
and securing the Kiretch Tepe Sirt.
[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL L. L. NICOL, C.B., COMMANDING 30TH
BRIGADE]
Beach “A” had been found unsuitable for use, as the water near it was
so shallow that the lighters ran aground at a considerable distance
from the shore. The Navy had by this time found a better landing
place on the north shore of Suvla Bay, slightly to the east of an
isolated peak called Ghazi Baba, which rises from the shore. To this
new landing place the two Munster battalions of the 30th Brigade with
Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol and their Brigade Headquarters and the
Divisional Pioneer Battalion were directed. It proved by no means
ideal, since many of the lighters ran aground a considerable distance
from the shore, and officers and men had to plunge into the water,
which was waist deep, and wade to the land. Fortunately, wet clothes
were soon dried by the Gallipoli sun, but the stranded boats afforded
excellent targets to the Turkish artillery. On reaching the shore a
little before noon, the 6th Munsters who landed first found that the
enemy had sown the beach with land-mines which exploded on contact.
Several men were injured by these, while the Adjutant of the 6th
Munsters was knocked down, but not hurt.
The orders given to the two battalions of Munsters and the Royal
Irish who acted as support, were to climb the Kiretch Tepe Sirt
Ridge at its western end and push forward along the crest as fast as
possible. A certain amount of ground had been made good in the course
of the night by the 11th Manchester Regiment, but it was desirable
that the whole ridge should be secured as quickly as possible in
order to safeguard the left flank of the advance across the Anafarta
plain. The Munsters accordingly struggled up the steep bushy slope
under the burning rays of the midday sun, and deployed for advance
about 1.30 p.m. The 6th Munsters were on the left and the 7th on the
right. They then pushed forward, but it was at once obvious that the
country was one which offered many advantages to an enemy who wished
to fight a delaying action.
Although from a distance the Kiretch Tepe Sirt appeared to be a
long whale-backed hill six hundred feet high, yet its sides were
seamed with gullies and tiny peaks almost invisible from below,
which detached themselves from the main contour of the crest line.
Moreover, it was covered with dense oak and holly scrub, which
entirely concealed the numbers of the enemy and made it impossible to
ascertain whether a unit was being opposed by a handful of snipers
or a battalion. As they pushed through this dense thicket, the
Munsters passed many indications of this fight waged by the 11th
Manchesters, and soon the sight of fly-infested corpses ceased to
cause a shudder. Soon they came in contact with the battalion itself,
or rather what was left of it, since it had suffered heavily. Its
Colonel was wounded, his second-in-command killed, and nearly half
its strength were out of action. Those who remained were exhausted
and very thirsty, and were unable to advance further. The Turks were
holding a rocky mound which commanded the crest of the ridge for
about six hundred yards to the west of it. From this point of vantage
they were pouring a considerable volume of rifle fire on any troops
who attempted to advance. Having taken in the situation, the Munsters
went forward to attack the position, and had succeeded in getting
within about a hundred yards of it when darkness fell.
In this engagement, fought in an unknown country against an enemy
who knew every track and gully, and was able to leave snipers in the
bushes behind him as he retired, the Munsters suffered severely, but
were ready to advance again at dawn. A night attack was considered
impracticable, since the country was absolutely unknown to the
troops and very intricate. On the following day (the 8th) the
Turkish position was attacked and finally stormed. The party of
the 6th Munsters who took the culminating point, were led by the
second-in-command of their battalion, Major Jephson, and the knoll
was christened after him, Jephson’s Post. Further advance proved
impossible, the enemy being in possession of a strongly entrenched
position, extending right across the ridge, and steps were taken to
dig in on the line held.
In this brisk engagement the two battalions of Munsters, supported
by the Royal Irish Regiment, and on the 8th by the 5th Royal
Inniskilling Fusiliers, had had to contend with an enemy possibly
weaker in numbers, but possessing an intimate knowledge of the
country and favoured by the lie of the ground. It was believed
at Headquarters that the Turkish force on the Kiretch Tepe Sirt
consisted of close on 700 Gendarmeries, who had been for months
patrolling the Suvla district, and had the advantage of having
already prepared entrenchments on the ridge. Against such a foe it
was no mean achievement for a newly-landed force to have advanced
over two miles in a puzzling and intricate country and to have
expelled the enemy from a well-fortified position, the whole being
accomplished within twenty-four hours of landing.
Naturally, there were numerous casualties. The 7th Munsters suffered
most severely, having Captain Cullinan, Lieutenant Harper, Lieutenant
Travers and 2nd-Lieutenant Bennett killed, and Major Hendricks,
Captain Cooper-Key, Captain Henn and half-a-dozen subalterns wounded.
In the 6th Munsters, Lieutenant J. B. Lee, a Dublin barrister, was
killed on the 7th, and Major Conway, a Regular officer of the Munster
Fusiliers, fell in the assault on Jephson’s Post on the 6th. Several
subalterns were wounded, and there were numerous casualties among
the rank and file. It was, however, fortunate that the enemy had no
machine-guns, and that the thick scrub made it hard to direct their
artillery fire with accuracy, or the losses would have been far
heavier.
For a week the battalions held the line that they had captured, being
reinforced by the 5th Inniskillings, who took over the trenches on
the northern slope of the ridge looking down on to the Gulf of Saros.
This flank was guarded by a destroyer, which did invaluable service
by giving notice of enemy movements, by searchlight work at night,
and by rendering artillery support when necessary.
The period spent in these trenches was by no means an enjoyable one,
for water was very short and had to be fetched from a considerable
distance away. Shade there was none, since the sun pierced vertically
downwards, and the prickly scrub gave but little cover from above.
The trenches had been hastily constructed in a sandy soil that
crumbled and fell in at the first opportunity and required constant
work at them. By day the Turkish snipers made this impossible, so the
men lay, too hot and thirsty and tormented by flies to sleep, and
by night they were stirred up to work again. To add to the horror
of the position, the unburied bodies of those who had fallen in the
previous fighting, lying in inaccessible gullies or in the midst of
the scrub, began to spread around the foul, sweet, sickly odour of
decay. Once smelt, this cannot be forgotten, for it clings to the
nostrils, and many a man recalled how true an insight Shakespeare had
into the soldier’s mind when he made Coriolanus use as his expression
of supreme contempt the words:
“Whose love I prize
As the dead carcases of unburied men
That do corrupt the air.”
This, however, was only an aggravation of the situation; the real
trouble was thirst. Men lied to get water, honest men stole it, some
even went mad for want of it; but it was cruelly hard to obtain.
Owing to some error, an insufficient supply of vessels for carrying
it had arrived from Mudros, and it became necessary to send down
a platoon from each company with the company’s water-bottles to
the beach to fill them. It was a long and trying walk in the dark,
and even when the beach was reached, water was by no means easy to
obtain, since thirsty soldiers had cut holes in the hoses that filled
the tanks on shore from the water-boats, and consequently much was
wasted.
It had been hoped to utilise the resources of the country, but the
Turks had foreseen our difficulties, and when the Engineers examined
a well near Ghazi Baba, they found it surrounded by a circle of
land-mines. Other wells further inland were well watched by snipers.
Nor even when sufficient water was obtainable, was it easy to convey
it back to the battalion. Some water-bottles leaked; others had been
only half filled, or carelessly corked, while occasionally a thirsty
soldier took advantage of the darkness to refresh himself from one
of the bottles which he was carrying. As a result, when the bottles
were distributed, there were bitter complaints from the men who found
themselves presented with only a few spoonfuls of water as a supply
for twenty-four hours. Tea-making, too, became difficult, since it
was almost out of the question to obtain the water required in equal
quantities from each man.
It soon became clear that the system of regulating the whole water
supply of the unit by the water-bottle of the individual soldier
was not a sound one, since the improvident consumed their day’s
supply at once, and the fool who lost his water-bottle was in a
hopeless position. Commanding officers and company commanders first
began by pooling all water-bottles, and issuing their contents in
mess-tins from time to time; while gradually they collected petrol
and biscuit-tins in which to store a reserve fund. Thanks to these
measures, and to the experience gained by the men, matters gradually
improved.
Two events that occurred during this period gave some fillip to
the spirits of the men on the ridge. The first of these was the
arrival of a mail which brought not only letters and papers, but
also parcels, and some of these parcels contained cake. Cake was a
priceless boon in Gallipoli. Home-made and home-packed ones sometimes
met with disaster and arrived in the form of crumbs, but those made
by an expert, and sealed in an air-tight tin arrived safely, and
were more welcome than anyone unacquainted with the ration biscuit
can imagine. The ration biscuit takes various forms, some of which
are small and palatable, but the type most frequently met with in
Gallipoli was large and square, possessing the appearance of a dog
biscuit and the consistency of a rock. It was no doubt of excellent
nutritive quality, but, unfortunately, no ordinary pair of teeth was
able to cope with it. Some spread jam upon it, and then licked the
surface, thereby absorbing a few crumbs; others soaked it in tea
(when there was any); while a few pounded it between two stones, and
found that the result did not make bad porridge. After a week of this
regimen, it is easily imagined how glad men were to put their teeth
into something soft again.
The second encouragement was the arrival of the first reinforcements
from Mudros. The worn and jaded men who had spent a week on the
ridge, and had lost the glamour and excitement caused by the first
experience of action, were surprised to find how glad their comrades
were to rejoin them. The tawny scrub and fresher air of Gallipoli
seemed delightful to them after Mudros, and their pleasure was so
infectious that many of the older hands came to the conclusion that
the Peninsula was not such a bad place after all.
During the first two or three days spent in holding the ridge
position, the attention of officers was given more to the details
of water supply than to the movements of the enemy. The latter had,
however, been reinforced, and were becoming more aggressive. The
Kiretch Tepe Sirt was of considerable tactical value to them, as if
they were able to regain their ground, they would be able to enfilade
our troops on the Anafarta plain, as well as being able to watch all
movements on the beaches. Not only therefore did they push forward
snipers, who picked off individual officers and men—among them
Lieutenant Burrows, Machine-gun Officer of the 6th Munsters; but more
organised attempts at lodgments were made, and patrol fights were not
uncommon. One of these may be described as typical. The 6th Munsters,
who were holding Jephson’s Post, discovered that the Turks were
digging in close to their immediate front, and Colonel Worship gave
orders that a party under Captain Oldnall were to attack them at dawn
and drive them out. Lieutenant Waller, R.E., accompanied the party in
charge of the bombers.
Just before daylight the attack was made, and after a strenuous
struggle, in which Captain Oldnall was seriously and Lieutenant
Gaffney mortally, wounded, the post was seized. Lieutenant Waller
displayed the most conspicuous courage in going out three times under
very heavy fire to rescue Lieutenant Gaffney and two other wounded
men. It is the custom of the corps of Royal Engineers to disregard
all danger in the performance of their duty, and Sapper Officers have
many splendid achievements to their credit. But no sapper officer can
ever have shown greater courage and self-sacrifice than Lieutenant
Waller did on this occasion. His action was worthy of the best
traditions of his Corps.
The post captured turned out to be the end of a Turkish communication
trench leading down to the south-east end of the ridge. It was
blocked with sandbags, and the portion nearest the Munsters’ trench
retained as an advanced post. The garrison holding this were somewhat
surprised when later in the afternoon an enormous Turk came wandering
up the trench alone with an armful of bombs, but he was promptly made
prisoner by Lieutenant J. L. Fashom, of the Munsters, who disputed
with Lieutenant Burke, of the Connaught Rangers, the claim to be the
smallest officer in the 10th Division.
Incidents like this enlivened the general monotony, but on the whole
the time spent in these trenches was a dreary, thirsty one, and all
ranks were pleased when it became evident that the remainder of
the Division was beginning to rejoin them, and that there was some
prospect of an advance.