KABA KUYU AND HILL 60
“Oh, bad the march, the weary march, beneath these alien skies,
But good the night, the friendly night, that soothes our tired eyes;
And bad the war, the weary war, that keeps us waiting here,
But good the hour, the friendly hour, that brings the battle near.”
—_Emily Lawless._
After the close of the battle of Sari Bair, the 29th Brigade of the
10th Division was in urgent need of re-organisation. The Brigade
Staff had ceased to exist, and the Hampshires and Rifles were in
almost as bad a case, since almost every officer was killed or
wounded. The Leinsters, though they had sustained serious losses,
had still a fair number of senior officers left, and the Connaught
Rangers had suffered less severely, having up to the 11th only lost
five officers. The latter unit was therefore retained in the front
line, while the other battalions were withdrawn to refit.
Throughout the 11th the Rangers held the line, which had been
entrenched by two of their companies on the 10th, between the foot of
Rhododendron Ridge and the north-eastern extremity of the Damakjelik
Bair. This line, based on two natural ravines, was a strong one,
but General Cayley considered that it was too far in rear, and
accordingly after sunset on the 11th the Battalion advanced to an
under-feature at the foot of the Chunuk Bair, and commenced to dig
in there. The advance was by no means an easy one, since it had been
impossible to make a detailed reconnaissance of the ground over which
it had to take place, as by day it was exposed to the enemy’s fire
from the Chunuk. In consequence of this the left flank unexpectedly
found themselves descending a slope so steep that it was almost a
precipice. Fortunately, there were bushes at the bottom to break
the fall of those whose feet slipped, and if the bushes happened to
be prickly ones, well, it was no good complaining about trifles in
Gallipoli.
The position when reached was not an ideal one. Though protected to
a certain extent from bullets from the Chunuk, it did not afford a
very good field of fire, and lack of shelter from the sun, shortage
of water, and the smell proceeding from a gully full of corpses,
combined to make the position of those holding it unpleasant. The
greatest disadvantage, however, was the fact that the only avenue
of approach to the trench line was the Aghyl Dere, which was swept
by a hostile machine-gun. Supplies and ammunition had to be carried
up under cover of darkness, and everyone who went up or down by
daylight was obliged to run the gauntlet for about three hundred
yards. Several casualties were caused while doing this, among the
sufferers being the senior Captain of the Rangers, Captain Hog, who
received the wound from which he died in this manner. He was a man
of forty-five years of age, who had served in the 1st Battalion of
the Rangers in South Africa, and had rejoined from the Reserve of
Officers at the beginning of the war. Though double the age of some
of his comrades, he had set them a magnificent example by the way in
which he accepted hardships, and the loyalty with which he submitted
to the commands of men younger than himself.
The hardships were by this time considerable, since officers and
men alike were reduced to bully beef and biscuits. It had been
impossible to bring any mess stores to the Peninsula, and though
each officer had stuffed a tin of sardines, or some potted meat
into his haversack, these did not last long, and the rather reduced
ration of a tin of bully beef and four biscuits _per diem_ was all
that was obtainable by anyone. Cooking was practically impossible,
though occasionally one got a cup of tea, and men ate at odd moments,
seldom sitting down to a regular meal. It was noticeable that on the
whole the single men stood this discomfort better than those who were
married. In part, no doubt, this was due to the fact that they were
younger, but some of the oldest men proved to be the toughest. One
old sergeant, who had marched to Kandahar with Lord Roberts in 1879,
went through the whole Gallipoli campaign with the Division, and also
through the operations in Serbia in December without once going sick.
The married men were more used to being looked after, to having their
comfort considered, and to decent cooking, and to regular meals, and
the semi-barbaric existence upset them. Those who stood it best were
the tinkers, members of that strange nomad tribe who in Ireland take
the place of the English gipsies. It was no new thing for them to eat
sparingly, and sleep under the stars, and their previous life made it
easy for them to adapt themselves to circumstances.
For three days the Rangers held this position, and during this period
the re-organisation of the Brigade proceeded. The only Battalion
Commander left unhurt was Lieutenant-Colonel Jourdain, of the
Connaught Rangers, who took over command as a temporary measure,
but on the 13th he was succeeded by Lieutenant-Colonel G. K. Agnew,
M.V.O., D.S.O., Royal Scots Fusiliers. Captain R. V. Pollok, 15th
Hussars, was appointed Brigade-Major, and on August 20th, Captain R.
J. H. Shaw, 5th Connaught Rangers, took up the post of Staff Captain.
The officers and men of the first reinforcement who had been left
at Mudros rejoined their units on the 11th, and were very welcome.
In two cases officers arriving with this draft found themselves in
command of their battalions, since Major Morley, of the Hampshires,
and Captain R. de R. Rose, of the Rifles, were senior to any of the
few surviving officers of their units. The task before them was by
no means a light one, for the whole company organisation had been
destroyed, and nearly all the officers and senior N.C.O.’s were
_hors de combat_. However, they buckled to it with a will, and every
suitable man received temporary promotion.
On August 13th, the Connaught Rangers were withdrawn from the line
they were holding and given four days’ rest, which was, of course,
broken by numerous demands for fatigues. It is the universal
experience of soldiers that in this war one never works so hard as
when one is supposed to be resting. On the 17th they relieved the
6th South Lancashire and 6th East Lancashire Regiments in trenches,
which they held for three days, and considerably strengthened. On the
20th they were withdrawn from these trenches, and ordered to hold
themselves in readiness to join General Cox’s Brigade and take part
in an attack on the following day.
This attack had been planned in order to co-operate with the
movements at Suvla. Reinforcements in the shape of the 29th Division
from Cape Helles, and the 2nd Mounted Division (without their
horses) from Egypt, had arrived there, and an attack on Ismail
Oglu Tepe had been planned. This steep, thickly-wooded hill acted
as buttress to Koja Chemen Tepe, and as it overlooked the whole
of the Suvla Plain, afforded a valuable observation post to the
enemy’s artillery. With it in our hands we should not only be able
to interrupt communication between the two Anafartas, but would have
gained a valuable _point d’appui_ for any further attack.
Communication between the Anzac and Suvla forces had been obtained
on the 13th at Susuk Kuyu, north of the Asmak Dere, but it hung by
a narrow thread. It was therefore decided that simultaneously with
the attack on Ismail Oglu Tepe, General Birdwood should attack the
Turkish trenches north of him, and endeavour to win enough ground to
safeguard inter-communication. The execution of this operation was
entrusted to Major-General Cox, who was allotted the whole of his own
Indian Brigade, two battalions of New Zealand Mounted Rifles, the 4th
South Wales Borderers from the 11th Division, and the 5th Connaught
Rangers and 10th Hampshires from the 29th Brigade. All these units
had suffered heavily in the fighting a fortnight before, and the
Indian Brigade in particular was terribly handicapped by the fact
that it had lost almost all its British officers.
[Illustration: THE ANAFARTA PLAIN FROM THE SOUTH
(_From a water colour by Captain Drummond Fish, Royal Irish Rifles_)]
The objective of this attack was contained in the salient enclosed
by the sea on the west, and the Damakjelik Bair on the south. A thin
line of outposts close to the sea connected Anzac and Suvla, but the
low ground which they held was commanded by a hill known as Kaiajik
Aghala, or Hill 60. At the point where this eminence began to rise
in a gentle slope from the plain, about four hundred yards north of
the Damakjelik, stood two wells called Kaba Kuyu. These wells were
extremely valuable to the Turks, since they, too, were short of
water, and it was against them that the first stages of the attack
were to be directed. There was, indeed, no object for which any man
in the rank and file would more willingly fight in Gallipoli in
August than a well. At the same time the wells, which the Turks were
known to have entrenched, were not the sole objective. The capture
of Hill 60 was extremely desirable, since not only did it menace
inter-communication between Suvla and Anzac, but with it in our hands
we should be in a position to enfilade a considerable portion of the
Turkish forces, which were opposing the attack from Suvla. General
Cox disposed of his forces as follows. On the extreme left the 5th
Ghurkas were to sweep across the low ground near the sea and get in
touch with the right flank of the Suvla force. In the centre, the
5th Connaught Rangers were to deploy in a gully of the Damakjelik
Bair, known as South Wales Borderers’ Gully, and charge across three
hundred yards of open ground to capture the wells. On the right, the
two battalions of New Zealanders, under Brigadier-General Russell,
forming up behind the trenches on Damakjelik Bair were to make an
attack on Hill 60 direct. Still further to the right a feint attack,
intended to draw off the Turkish reserves, was to be executed by the
10th Hampshire Regiment. The remainder of the force was in reserve.
The Connaught Rangers reached South Wales Borderers’ Gully after dark
on the 20th and bivouacked there for the night. As the attack was not
to be launched till 3 p.m. on the 21st, they had a long wait before
them, but there was plenty to be done. Officers spent the morning in
visiting the trenches held by the South Wales Borderers on Damakjelik
Bair and inspecting their objective through a periscope, for the
enemy snipers were too active to permit of any direct observation.
The Turks had constructed a trench in front of the wells to guard
them, which was connected with their main position by a communication
trench improvised from a deep water course which ran eastward. To
the northward a sunken road led from the wells in the direction of
Anafarta. No barbed wire appeared to have been erected, but it was
obvious that the crest of Hill 60 was strongly entrenched and held.
After this reconnaissance, orders were issued for the attack, and
while they were being prepared, officers and men alike were receiving
the consolations of religion. For the Church of England men, the
Rev. J. W. Crozier celebrated Holy Communion; and Father O’Connor
gave absolution to his flock. The bullets of snipers were whistling
overhead, and ploughed furrows through the ground as the men knelt in
prayer and listened to the message of peace and comfort delivered by
the tall khaki-clad figure. In a few hours they were to plunge into
a hand-to-hand struggle with the old enemy of Christendom, and their
pulses throbbed with the spirit of Tancred and Godfrey de Bouillon,
as they fitted themselves to take their places in the last of the
Crusades.
Nor was encouragement from their Generals lacking. Two hours before
the advance was due to begin, Major-General Godley visited the gully
and addressed as many of the men as could be collected. His speech
was not a long one, but he told them what he expected them to do. One
regiment had already failed to capture the wells; now the Rangers
were to do it with the cold steel. The men were not permitted to
cheer, but their faces showed their feelings. General Godley, himself
an Irishman, showed an intimate knowledge of the Irish character
by delivering this address. The knowledge that the credit of their
regiment was at stake and that the eyes of their leaders were on
them, was sufficient to nerve every man to do his utmost. As a matter
of fact, the spirit of the men was excellent; though dysentery and
enteric were raging not a man reported sick that morning for fear of
missing the fight.
At 2 p.m. the men paraded and worked slowly forward to the old
Turkish trench running across the mouth of the gully from which
the attack was to be launched. There was only sufficient frontage
for a platoon at a time to extend, so the advance was to be made
by successive waves of platoons, “C” Company leading, followed by
“D,” whilst “A” and “B” Companies were kept in support. Though every
precaution was taken to avoid making dust and so attracting the
attention of the Turks, yet bullets were continually falling among
the men, and two officers were wounded before the hour to advance
arrived. This was prefaced by a violent bombardment of the enemy’s
position, conducted not only by the batteries at Anzac, but also by
the monitors in the Gulf of Saros, which were in a position that
enabled them to enfilade the enemy’s line. The noise and dust were
terrific, but most of the Turks were well under cover and did not
suffer seriously.
Meanwhile, the men waited. A hundred years earlier an officer of
the Connaught Rangers had described the appearance and feeling of
his battalion as they stood awaiting the signal that was to call
them to the assault of the great breach of Ciudad Rodrigo, and his
description might have been fitted to their descendants in Gallipoli.
Here and there a man murmured a prayer or put up a hand to grasp his
rosary, but for the most part they waited silent and motionless till
the order to advance was given. At last, at 3.40, the bombardment
ceased, the word came, and the leading platoon dashed forward with a
yell like hounds breaking covert. They were met with a roar of rifle
fire, coming not only from the trench attacked, but also from Hill
60, and from snipers concealed in the scattered bushes. Not a man
stopped to return it; all dashed on with levelled bayonets across
the four hundred yards of open country, each man striving to be
the first into the enemy’s trench. That honour fell to the platoon
commander, Second-Lieutenant T. W. G. Johnson, who had gained Amateur
International Colours for Ireland at Association Football, and was a
bad man to beat across country. Rifle and bayonet in hand, he made
such good use of his lead that before his platoon caught him up
he had bayoneted six Turks and shot two more. For these and other
gallant deeds he was awarded the Military Cross.
The Turks stood their ground well, but succumbed to superior numbers,
for soon the supporting platoons came up, while “D” Company
moving more to the left was prolonging the line in that direction.
The whole of the trenches guarding the wells, together with the
wells themselves, were now in the hands of the Rangers, while the
communication trench leading to Hill 60 was cleared and blocked, and
the two companies in support were moved forward.
Meanwhile the New Zealanders’ attack on Hill 60 was not making quite
such satisfactory progress. The hill was both fortified with care
and held in strength by the enemy, and though General Russell had
succeeded in making a lodgment at its foot, he was unable to get
further. The Rangers had been ordered, after seizing the wells, to
do their utmost to assist his attack, and accordingly “A” Company
was detailed to advance and attack the western slopes of the hill.
By this time companies had become very mixed, and the charge was
composed of a crowd of men belonging to all the companies, mad with
the lust for battle. Their officers did little to restrain them,
for their Irish blood was aflame, and they were as eager as the
men. The line surged up the bare exposed glacis, only to encounter
tremendously heavy rifle and machine-gun fire from the crest. At the
same moment the enemy’s guns opened, displaying marvellous accuracy
in ranging, and the attack was annihilated.
In spite of this the men went on as long as they were able to stand,
and fell still facing the foe. From the wells below their bodies
could be seen, lying in ordered ranks on the hillside, with their
bayonets pointing to the front.
It was clear that further advance was impossible, and it only
remained for the survivors to consolidate the captured position,
which was now being heavily shelled. At 5.15 p.m. the 5th Ghurkas,
who had been unable to advance earlier in the afternoon, came up and
took over the left flank, including the sunken road running towards
Anafarta. The Rangers were then concentrated near the wells, which
they protected by a sandbag barricade, while steps were taken to get
in touch with General Russell’s New Zealanders, who were digging
themselves in at the foot of Hill 60, a little further to the east.
A portion of the gap between them and the Rangers was bridged by
the captured Turkish communication trench, and a sap to cover the
remainder was begun at once.
Contrary to anticipation, the enemy did not launch a counter-attack
to endeavour to recapture the wells, but their artillery was taking
a heavy toll of the conquerors, and officers and men were falling
fast. The Adjutant of the Rangers, Captain Maling, an officer to
whose judgment and courage the battalion owed an incalculable debt,
was severely wounded here, and the Sergeant-Major, who had joined in
the charge, had already been carried off with a wound in his leg.
“D” Company had only one officer left, and its sergeant-major and
quartermaster-sergeant had fallen, while “C” Company had had all
its officers hit, two of them fatally. Nevertheless, the men worked
hard to put their position in a good state of defence, and before
nightfall their object was achieved. At 7 p.m. communication with the
New Zealanders was obtained, and two platoons under Lieutenant Blake
effected a junction with them.
All through the afternoon the devoted stretcher-bearers were
transporting their burdens to the dressing-station in South Wales
Borderers’ Gully, where the doctor and the priest waited to render
devoted service. The labour imposed upon them may be imagined from
the fact that over a hundred and fifty cases passed through this
dressing-station alone. Now, nightfall made it possible to get up
supplies and ammunition. By this time the lesson of the battle
of Sari Bair had been learnt, and everything had been carefully
pre-arranged. The staff of the 29th Brigade were indefatigable in
getting up food and water, and though the Brigade-Major, Captain
Pollok, was wounded by a stray shot, his place was well filled by the
Staff Captain. By daylight the whole position was in a thoroughly
defensible state, being well-stocked with food, water and ammunition.
During the night, however, the New Zealanders had had a bad time,
and in this the two platoons of Connaught Rangers which had joined
them shared. Their position at the foot of Hill 60 was near enough
to the Turkish trenches at the top to enable the enemy to throw
down bombs, and this they did all night. At intervals, too, they
charged down with the bayonet in large numbers only to be repulsed.
Heavy casualties were caused in this fight, and among the killed was
Lieutenant Blake. His place was taken by Sergeant Nealon, an old
soldier, who had taken his discharge long before the war and started
business in Ballina.
When war broke out he was among the first to re-enlist, and so
inspiring was his example that Ballina disputes with Belfast the
credit for having the largest number of recruits in proportion to
population of any town in Ireland. No man ever looked less martial,
but his stout, comfortable figure concealed the spirit of a hero.
When his officer fell he took over the command, led back a mixed
group of Rangers and New Zealanders to a sector of trench that had
been abandoned owing to the violent bombing that it was suffering,
and held it until he was relieved. Another N.C.O. of the Rangers who
distinguished himself here was Sergeant John O’Connell, an Irish
American, who went out under heavy fire to bring in a wounded New
Zealander who was endeavouring to get back under cover. For this and
for unvarying courage he was awarded the D.C.M.
On the morning of the 22nd, the newly-landed 18th Australian
Battalion arrived on the scene, and attacked the crest of the hill,
in company with the New Zealanders. For a time one trench was
captured, but the captors were unable to maintain themselves in it,
and were driven out by bombing. The Rangers did not take part in this
attack, and on the evening of the 22nd were relieved, and returned to
their bivouac in South Wales Borderers’ Gully.
This engagement has been described in greater detail than its
intrinsic importance perhaps deserves, because hitherto the capture
of Kaba Kuyu Wells has not been officially attributed to an Irish
regiment at all.
The Rangers had not to complain of any lack of immediate recognition,
since on the day following their withdrawal Lieutenant-General Sir
W. Birdwood, accompanied by Sir A. Godley and General Cox, visited
their bivouac. He congratulated them on their gallantry, and promised
them four days’ rest, after which he intended to call on them for
another attack. Sir A. Godley and General Cox were also warm in their
congratulations.
Nor was the applause of their comrades lacking, since the Australians
and New Zealanders were loud in their praises of the dash and
courage of the battalion. This memory long continued with them. More
than three months later, Mr. John Redmond, M.P., was showing a party
of Australian convalescents over the House of Commons, and asked them
if they had seen anything of the 10th (Irish) Division. They replied
that they had, and in their opinion the charge made by the Connaught
Rangers at Kaba Kuyu was the finest thing they had seen in the War.
This praise was worth having, since no men on earth are better able
to appreciate courage and are less prone to be imposed upon than the
Australians. They have no use for paper reputations; they judge only
by what they have seen with their own eyes. Tried by this exacting
standard, the Rangers were none the less able to abide it.
While the attack on Kaba Kuyu and Hill 60 was being executed the
10th Hampshires were carrying out their feint. They achieved their
object in distracting the enemy’s attention, but, unfortunately,
incurred heavy losses. Major Morley, the Commanding Officer, was
wounded, and Captain Hellyer, the only officer of the battalion
who had come through the stiff fighting on Sari Bair on the 10th
unhurt, was killed. The casualties among the rank and file amounted
to close on a hundred and fifty. Nor had the Connaught Rangers come
off lightly, having lost twelve officers and over two hundred and
fifty men. It is interesting to note how much more severely units
suffer in modern war than a hundred years ago. Under Wellington in
Spain and Portugal, the Connaught Rangers played a distinguished part
in many great battles and sieges. At Busaco, in company with half
a battalion of the 45th Foot, they charged and routed the eleven
battalions of Merle’s French Division. They attacked the great breach
at Ciudad Rodrigo, and stormed the Castle of Badajoz. At Salamanca,
in company with the other two battalions of Wallace’s Brigade, they
crossed bayonets with Thomieres’ Division and drove eight battalions
off the field in disorder. All these were famous engagements, and in
them the 88th deservedly won great glory, yet in none of them were
their losses as heavy as those incurred by their newly-formed service
battalion in the little-known engagement at Kaba Kuyu.[3]
Elsewhere the issue of the fighting had not been propitious to our
arms, since in spite of the never-failing courage of the 29th
Division and the magnificent gallantry displayed by the Yeomen,
the attacks made from Suvla had failed. The losses were terribly
heavy, a very brave Irish Brigadier-General, the Earl of Longford,
K.P., having fallen in the forefront of the battle. In consequence
of these heavy casualties it was impossible to conduct further
offensive operations at Suvla until reinforcements should arrive.
It was, however, eminently desirable to effect the capture of Hill
60, since it constituted a perpetual menace to the Suvla-Anzac
line of communication. So long as the Turks were able to maintain
their position on its crest, not only were they able to enfilade
the trenches at Suvla, but also they possessed the power of massing
troops behind it and launching them suddenly against our line. They
were fully aware of the advantage which this gave them, and had made
the defence of the hill extremely strong.
It was determined to make an assault on this position at 5 p.m. on
August the 27th. Brigadier-General Russell was placed in command
of the assaulting parties, which consisted of 350 Australians who
formed the right attack, 300 New Zealanders and 100 Australians, who
composed the attack on the centre, and 250 Connaught Rangers, who
formed the left attack. By this time units at Anzac were so reduced
by casualties and sickness that instead of merely detailing units
the numbers required were also specified. At the time the orders were
issued the Rangers could only muster seven officers, three hundred
men, and of these more than half the officers, and a large proportion
of the men were suffering from dysentery or enteritis.
The Australians were to attack the trenches running to the base of
the hill in a south-easterly direction. The New Zealanders had as
their objective the summit of Hill 60 itself, while the Rangers were
given as their objective the system of trenches running from the
crest northwards towards Anafarta. At 3 p.m. the assaulting parties
of the Rangers filed down the sap, which had been dug to connect Kaba
Kuyu with South Wales Borderers’ Gully, and into the trenches round
the well which they had captured a week earlier. They were narrow and
were manned by the Indian Brigade so that progress was slow, but by 4
p.m. the storming party of fifty men had reached the point from which
the left assault was to commence.
At four the bombardment began. Ships, howitzers, mountain-guns, all
combined to create a babel which if less intense than that of the
previous week, was nevertheless sufficiently formidable. The trenches
were so close to one another that our troops waiting to advance were
covered with dust from the high explosives, but no injury was done.
At last, at five, the bombardment ceased and the stormers, led by
Lieutenant S. H. Lewis, went over the top. They were into the Turkish
trenches almost before the enemy were aware of their coming and
forced their way along them with bayonet and bomb. The supporting
parties, however, were not so fortunate. The range to the parapet
from whence they started was accurately known to the enemy, and from
every part of the trench which was not actually under assault violent
machine-gun and rifle fire opened. Man after man as he climbed over
the parapet fell back into the trench dead, yet the next man calmly
stepped forward to take his place. One old soldier, a company cook,
Private Glavey, of Athlone, as his turn came, said: “I have three
sons fighting in France and one of them has got the D.C.M. Let’s see
if the old father can’t get it now,” and advanced to meet the common
fate.
Now, too, the enemy’s artillery opened, and as, unmenaced elsewhere,
they were able to concentrate all their forces on the defence of
Hill 60, their fire was terrific. Incessant salvoes of shrapnel
burst overhead, while the parapet of the trench from which the
advance was taking place was blown in by high explosive. Yet, still,
the men went on over the parapet and gradually a few succeeded in
struggling through the barrage, and in reinforcing their comrades in
the captured trench. There a stern struggle was taking place, but by
dint of hard hand-to-hand bayonet fighting the Turks were driven out,
and at six p.m. the Rangers had carried the whole of their objective.
The Australians on the right had encountered concentrated machine-gun
fire and had been unable to make any progress, but the New Zealanders
had carried the trenches on the southern side of the crest and a few
of them had worked along and joined up with the Rangers. When night
fell the whole of the southern face of the hill was in British hands,
but the Turks were not disposed to acquiesce in this decision. As
there was no indication of any attack elsewhere, they were free to
use the bulk of their reserves at Hill 60, and wave after wave of
assailants hurled itself on the position. There was a half moon which
enabled the outlines of the charges to be seen as the mass of Turks
surged forward preluding their onset with a shower of bombs. The
Rangers suffered particularly badly in this respect, since parallel
to the trench they held ran two newly-dug Turkish communication
trenches which were within bombing distance. There were not enough
men available to assault these trenches or to hold them if they were
taken, for the losses in the attack had been heavy. It was true
that the remainder of the Connaught Rangers had been sent up as a
reinforcement, but this only amounted to forty-four men, most of
whom were weakened by dysentery.
Again and again, the Turks attacked, mad with fanaticism, shrieking
at the top of their voices and calling on Allah. The Irish, however,
were not impressed. As one Connaught Ranger put it, “they came on
shouting and calling for a man named Allen, and there was no man
of that name in the trench at all.” Still, however, the merciless
bombing continued and the trenches slowly became encumbered with
dead. It was a soldiers’ battle: every officer but one on the
Rangers’ position was wounded, and in any case the trench was so
blocked with débris from the bombardment and Turkish and Irish
corpses, that it became almost impossible to move from point to
point. Lieutenant Lewis who had led the charge, was wounded in two
places. He had himself lifted on to the parapet in the hope of being
able to make his way down to the dressing-station, but was never seen
again.
At last about 10.30 p.m., after the fight had lasted five hours, a
crowd of Turks succeeded in entering the Rangers’ trench near its
northern extremity. This northern end was held by a small party of
men who died where they stood. The remainder of the trench was,
however, blocked and further progress by the enemy arrested. Still
the fight raged and bombs and ammunition were running short, while
the losses became so heavy that it was growing harder and harder to
procure. Major Money, who was in command of the advanced position,
sent for reinforcements, but found that they were unobtainable.
Fresh Turkish attacks kept coming on, and for every assailant that
was struck down, two more sprang up in his place. It was clear that
soon the defenders would be swept away by force of numbers, and they
were compelled at midnight to fall back to the southern end of the
captured trench. This point they blocked with a sandbag barricade
and held until at last they were relieved at 8.30 a.m. on the 28th.
Five hours earlier the 9th Australian Light Horse had attempted to
recover the trench from which the Rangers had been driven, but found
that the Turks were too strong. It was not until the 29th that a
combined attack launched from the position which the New Zealanders
had taken and had been able to hold, finally established our line on
the northern slopes of Hill 60.
The Turkish losses were enormous and were nearly all inflicted in
fighting at close quarters. The captures from them included three
machine-guns, three trench mortars and 60,000 rounds of small-arm
ammunition, while Sir Ian Hamilton estimated that 5,000 Turks had
been killed and wounded. When it is remembered that the total
strength of our attacking columns was under a thousand, and that the
reinforcements received in the course of the fight barely reached
that figure, it will be realized that each of our men must have
disposed of at least two of his opponents. Unfortunately, our losses
were by no means small: of 250 Connaught Rangers who charged over the
parapet on the 27th, less than a hundred returned unwounded.
The battalion had, however, no reason on this occasion to complain of
lack of official recognition, since Sir Ian Hamilton in his official
despatch paid an eloquent tribute to the deeds of the Connaught
Rangers. His words may be quoted:
“On the left the 250 men of the 5th Connaught Rangers excited
the admiration of all beholders by the swiftness and cohesion of
their charge. In five minutes they had carried their objective,
the northern Turkish communications, when they at once set to and
began a lively bomb fight along the trenches against strong parties
which came hurrying up from the enemy supports and afterwards from
their reserves. At midnight fresh troops were to have strengthened
our grip on the hill, but before that hour the Irishmen had been
out-bombed.”
That the battalion acquitted itself so well was in the main due to
the manner in which it had been trained by its Commanding Officer,
Lieut.-Colonel Jourdain. He thoroughly understood the men with
whom he had to deal, and had instilled into all ranks a rigid but
sympathetic discipline which proved invaluable in time of trial. He
was unwearied in working for the comfort of his men, and was repaid
not only by their respect and affection, but by a well-earned C.M.G.