CHAPTER II

THE LANDING AT SUVLA BAY, AUGUST 6-7

The strictest secrecy was maintained with regard to the new landing in

Gallipoli, thus preventing anything but the vaguest rumours leaking

out as to the point chosen for disembarkation. It was presumed that

the Turks must have taken every possible protective measure to guard

against surprise. I was very fortunate in being attached to the ship

which the Admiral conducting operations had chosen as his temporary

flagship.

It is difficult to give any idea of the strange feelings that possessed

us as we crept through the darkness on the night of August 6, knowing

that big events loomed ahead. Would it be a surprise to the enemy? Had

they any information of our movements? A single bright light showing

on the northerly end of Imbros looked suspiciously like a signal to

the Turks, a simple matter when one realised that our bases in these

islands were held entirely on sufferance and we had practically no

jurisdiction over spies. Our occupation of the various islands

was somewhat Gilbertian; after the war between Turkey and Greece

both parties claimed the islands in the Ægean, neither being in a

position to hold them successfully. Consequently, when the Dardanelles

operations commenced, we naturally decided to regard the islands

as "No Man's Land," although the Greeks knew that, in the event of

a successful campaign, we should probably hand them over to their

keeping. It is certain that without them we could never have carried on

the operations in this theatre of war.

We left the anchorage of Kephalo with every light obscured and silence

enjoined, even white clothes and cigarettes being forbidden on deck. It

was fortunately a dark night even for these parts. At slow speed with

a picket-boat close on our quarter we crept across the twelve miles

separating us from Suvla Bay, which by now was generally presumed to

be the place chosen for what we hoped would be a surprise landing.

Two cruisers, the _Theseus_ and _Endymion_, carrying large numbers

of men, and specially fitted with gangways over their sterns to

allow the troops to walk down into motor-lighters, were sent on with

destroyers towing motor-lighters full of troops to be at the point

of disembarkation at about 11.30 p.m. We on the flagship steered a

slightly more northerly course, in order not to interfere with these

vessels in the darkness, and arrived in Suvla Bay at about 12.30 a.m.

The fact that the landing had already begun was shown by desultory

rifle-fire from the shore, but of so spasmodic a character that a

feeling of hope arose that the surprise was complete. Impatience now

became general for the first gleam of daylight. After an apparently

endless wait the dawn began to make in the eastern sky, and there was

enough light to get some idea of the general state of affairs.

On C beach the troops had landed from the cruisers and destroyers in

the darkness with practically no opposition. A beautiful sandy shore,

sloping at sufficiently steep an angle to allow the motor-lighters to

beach without difficulty, facilitated the landing. The troops, dashing

forward, were able to penetrate inland and drive the small bodies of

Turks out of their trenches. They then advanced over the now dry salt

lake some considerable distance.

On A beach things were not so successful. Here, a shallow ridge

of sand, running parallel to the shore, held up three of the

motor-lighters carrying some 1500 men at a point where wading was

impossible, owing to the deeper water inside the ridge. Here the men

were subjected to considerable rifle-fire from bodies of Turkish troops

and suffered a number of casualties. Picket-boats, however, succeeded

in taking them off and landing them on the beach.

By this time it was possible to see more plainly what was taking place.

Two batteries of Turkish field-guns opened fire with shrapnel and high

explosives on the landing-parties and on the three lighters which were

firmly fixed on the sand reef. The lighters specially claimed the

attention of the enemy's guns, doubtless under the impression that they

still contained troops. Beyond the lighters large numbers of men could

be seen filing along the beach, or forming up, and amongst these, large

columns of sand and dust showed where the shells pitched, causing many

casualties.

At about five o'clock an enemy aeroplane was sighted, but so occupied

was everyone with the work in hand that practically no attention was

paid to her; and shortly after, four large bombs were dropped in quick

succession in the harbour, causing huge columns of discoloured water to

rise, but doing no damage to the shipping, which by now had grown in

numbers. Five fleet sweepers arrived bringing large numbers of men,

who were landed rapidly to support those already ashore, and as quickly

disappeared into the scrub beyond the beach. The _Talbot_ and _Chatham_

were now busy with their 6-inch guns driving back those Turks who still

endeavoured to oppose our landing. The _Talbot_ by a few well-placed

shots entirely disposed of a battery which had considerably annoyed us

during the early part of the operations. It was impossible now to see

exactly what was taking place, as the low-lying land, over which the

troops were advancing, was hidden by sand dunes from the harbour.

By now large transports were arriving with more troops and stores,

and a battery of field artillery was landed and quickly galloped into

a position on Lalla Baba, where they could give good support to the

advance.

A slight description of the country in which this attempt to straddle

the peninsula was taking place may be of interest, as seen from the

sea. On our left Suvla Point, with Nebruniessi Point to the right,

formed a small bay known as Suvla Bay some mile and a half across. To

the right of Nebruniessi Point a long gently curving sandy beach some

four or five miles in extent terminated where the Australian position

at Anzac rose steeply to the Sari Bair range. Inside and immediately

in front of us was a large flat sandy plain covered with scrub, while

the dry salt lake showed dazzlingly white in the hot morning sun.

Immediately beyond was Chocolate Hill, and behind this again lay the

village of Anafarta some four miles from the shore. As a background,

the Anafarta ridge ran from the village practically parallel with

the sea until it took a sharp turn due west to Suvla Point, where it

gradually sloped down to the coast. Beyond the plain in front of us a

number of stunted oaks, gradually becoming more dense further inland,

formed excellent cover for the enemy's snipers—a mode of warfare at

which the Turk has become an adept.

By climbing into the foretop of the vessel, it was possible to watch

the living cinema of battle. Glasses were necessary to distinguish the

light khaki of our men against the scrub and sand. The troops marching

in open order across the salt lake formed a most stirring picture as

they crossed the unbroken surface of silver-white. Overhead shrapnel

burst unceasingly, leaving small crumpled forms on the ground, one or

more of which would slowly rise and walk shorewards, while others lay

where they fell. Beyond this open space it became almost impossible

to follow the movements of the battle, but the continual rattle of

musketry showed where the advance was proceeding into the more thickly

wooded plain. Our hopes that the surrounding ridges would be taken

before nightfall were unfortunately not realised. The enemy, though not

in great strength to commence with, were continually reinforced, while

the broken nature of the ground made anything like perfect cohesion

amongst our various units extremely difficult. To make matters still

worse, the enemy's shells caused dense bush fires, which, driven by the

wind, burst into sheets of flame. Great difficulty was experienced in

dealing with snipers. Officers and men were continually shot down, not

only by rifle fire from advanced posts of the enemy, but by men and

even women behind our own firing-line. The particular kind of tree in

this part, a stunted oak, lends itself peculiarly to concealment, being

short with dense foliage. Here, a sniper would lurk with face painted

green and so well hidden as to defy detection. Others would crouch in

the dense brushwood, where anyone passing could be shot with ease. When

discovered, these snipers had in their possession enough food and water

for a considerable period as well as an ample supply of ammunition.

Although this seems a murderous kind of warfare, there is no question

as to the pluck of the sniper, of whatever nationality, for he has

little chance of getting back to his comrades and small likelihood of

quarter if caught.

Water, or rather the want of it, was a serious bar to our progress in

the initial stages. Those who formed the first landing-parties carried

provisions and water for forty-eight hours; but in a country of this

nature and under a boiling sun it is naturally impossible to convince

the young soldier fighting in a temperature he has never experienced

before, of the necessity of husbanding his water supply. So it proved

in this instance. The advanced troops were completely exhausted by

thirst. Could this have been remedied at once it is certain a different

tale would have been told.

The question which now arose amongst those who were conducting the

naval side of the operations was, how long would the Turkish guns

allow the shipping to remain in the harbour (it became a harbour,

theoretically, as soon as the steamer detailed for the work had laid

submarine defence nets).

The bay was now thickly crowded with shipping, including such tempting

bait as big transports full of troops, store-ships, and every kind

of vessel which goes to the support of an army. Yet, fortunately, we

were only subjected to intermittent shell-fire, the Turks probably

experiencing some difficulty in getting guns into position in addition

to those required against the troops.

It was not until the 12th August that any serious action was taken by

the enemy against the ships in harbour. On that day the vessels inside

the defence net consisted of a large monitor lying close in shore,

several smaller monitors at intervals off the beach, the _Cornwall_,

_Chatham_, and _Swiftsure_, and a number of transports and storeships.

The _Swiftsure_ was the flagship of Rear-Admiral Christian, who

conducted the naval side of the operations.

Shortly after midday the Turks opened fire on the monitor _Havelock_.

The range was good, but the first shells were ineffective, though they

fell close round her. As she was lying at anchor, and things were

becoming rather uncomfortable, she weighed and was just moving when

a shell burst on the upper deck behind the funnel, without, however,

doing serious damage. The enemy's gunners realising now that their

chances of hitting the _Havelock_ were small, turned their attention

to the _Swiftsure_. The latter, surrounded as she was by picket-boats

and lighters, found it difficult to get under weigh quickly. Several of

us were standing on the quarter-deck of the flagship when the shells

began to come in our direction. The first shell pitched some fifty

yards short; the next passed overhead, falling fairly close to our

port side. They had our range to a nicety. The probability that the

third would hit us caused a hurried exodus below deck, where, although

the protection afforded was not great, one felt a sense of security

which was perhaps more theoretical than practical. Almost immediately

the heavy thud of a projectile outside the ward-room told us that our

judgment was not far wrong. Fortunately this failed to explode, and was

afterwards picked up on the net shelf. Another entered the ship's side

close to the padre's cabin, and, going through three steel partitions,

brought up in the petty officers' pantry, where a peaceful domestic was

engaged in washing-up. Fortunately for him this also failed to explode.

Immediately afterwards three high explosive shells came inboard on the

upper deck, and bursting there killed 7 men and wounded 16. Curiosity

in this case had overcome a sense of prudence, for they had been

watching the enemy's attempt to drive us out of the harbour.

The numerous picket-boats, lighters, etc., had now left us, so we

were able to get weigh on the ship. We slowly steamed in a circle

without going outside the defence net, in case a submarine might be

lying in wait as part of a preconceived plan. The fact that we had

moved from our former billet was sufficient to stop the enemy's fire,

as practically all his guns were field artillery, making it almost

impossible to follow a moving object with the accuracy of a naval gun.

It is not my intention to attempt any elaborate description of the

land operations, as it was very difficult to obtain really reliable

news. Moreover, after the first few days, the Turks had succeeded in

bringing up a number of fresh troops and artillery, and were strongly

entrenched. It was increasingly evident, therefore, that, unless a

very large body of men could be brought up the advance had virtually

ceased and resolved itself into a digging-in competition. Up till now

the Turks had made no concerted effort to drive us out; but one night,

at about eight o'clock, a heavy bombardment suddenly commenced on the

left flank, which lasted about an hour and a half. The sky was lit

by hundreds of bursting shrapnel, high explosives and star shells:

the prelude, presumably, to an attack in force. From our position in

the bay it certainly looked as if a big fight were in progress, and a

great deal of speculation was rife on the ships in harbour as to the

outcome. About 9.30 a signal arrived from the Headquarters 9th Army

Corps, saying "Situation well in hand." It appeared, for some reason

unknown to us, that the enemy had entirely failed to follow up the

bombardment and attack. Indeed, as far as could be ascertained, not

a single Turk had left the trenches, and we afterwards learned from

deserters that even flogging and threats had failed to move them.

After this, day succeeded day with a desultory artillery duel morning

and evening, the afternoons being presumably spent by the Turks in

a siesta. Little was accomplished by the artillery fire, beyond the

annoyance caused by shells falling amongst the stores and dug-outs at

the bases. It was astonishing to see high explosive shells bursting

in what appeared to be crowded areas and to learn afterwards from the

soldiers that comparatively few casualties had resulted. Certainly, at

times, a shell would cause considerable damage, especially if it fell

on rock or hard earth: one of these killed and wounded upwards of 100

mules, and another, which I saw, killed 9 men and wounded 7; but these

were exceptions. The Red Cross dressing stations had been shelled in

the early days of the landing, as, owing possibly to the restricted

area held by us, or more probably to carelessness and want of thought,

large quantities of stores and ammunition were landed close to the

dressing stations. These suffered considerably in consequence from

shell-fire. This was not a deliberate act, as no nation could possibly

have conducted warfare in a more above-board and clean-handed manner

than the Turks. The fact that such qualities could be attributed to

the Turk was a surprise to me, though naval officers generally have

long regarded him as the gentleman of the Eastern Mediterranean. This

is further borne out by his reported refusal to use poisonous gas when

attacking.

On the afternoon of the landing the Turks sent in an emissary to

say that the Red Cross stations would be respected provided no

stores were landed in the vicinity. Also at a later date the Turkish

Headquarters made a helio to the effect that they had seen tows of

boats communicating between warships and the dressing stations. This

they very naturally resented, and said it must cease or they would feel

compelled to open fire. In another case a surgeon told me that the

enemy had actually sent to apologise to him for the accidental shooting

of one of his stretcher-bearers. All this is, of course, only what one

would expect from a chivalrous enemy. So brutally, however, have many

of the theoretical usages of war been violated that the action of the

Turk stands out in bright contrast, and shows that this much-maligned

race retains a sense of honour which seems to be lacking in others who

claim the right to lead the world in this direction.

The Turkish prisoners taken by us were few in number. Many were farmers

whose one wish appeared to be to see the end of the war. After all,

when one remembers that the Turk has always been friendly to the

British, it is not surprising that in fighting against us he should

still retain a good deal of his old feeling. At the same time he is

fighting in defence of his own country, and is regarded by all who

know him as never so effective as when on the defensive. All one hears

and reads of dissension amongst the Turkish and German officers may

be true, as no doubt the German officer has taken a high hand in his

dealings with the Turkish Army. At the same time the Turk is not so

blind but that he realises, to the full, the value of the German as a

teacher of the latest methods and devices of warfare.

The Dardanelles: Colour Sketches From Gallipoli · 第 2 / 7 章