THE LANDING
_24th April, 1915. H.M.S. "Queen Elizabeth." Tenedos._ Boarded the Queen
Lizzie at 1.30 p.m. Anchored off Tenedos just before 4 p.m. Lay outside
the roadstead; close by us is the British Fleet with an Armada of
transports,--all at anchor. As we were closing up to them we spotted a
floating mine which must have been passed touch-and-go during the night
by all those warships and troopships. A good omen surely that not one of
them fell foul of the death that lurks in that ugly, horned devil--not
dead itself, but very much alive, for it answered a shot from one of our
three pounders with the dull roar and spitting of fire and smoke bred
for our benefit by the kindly German Kultur.
I hope I may sleep to-night. I think so. If not, my wakefulness will
wish the clock's hand forward.
_25th April, 1915. H.M.S. "Queen Elizabeth."_ Our _Queen_ chose the cold
grey hour of 4 a.m. to make her war toilette. By 4.15 she had sunk the
lady and put on the man of war. Gone were the gay companions; closed the
tight compartments and stowed away under armour were all her furbelows
and frills. In plain English, our mighty battleship was cleared for
action, and--my mind--that also has now been cleared of its everyday
lumber: and I am ready.
If this is a queer start for me, so it is also for de Robeck. In sea
warfare, the Fleet lies in the grip of its Admiral like a platoon in the
hands of a Subaltern. The Admiral sees; speaks the executive word and
the whole Fleet moves; not, as with us, each Commander carrying out the
order in his own way, but each Captain steaming, firing, retiring to the
letter of the signal. In the Navy the man at the gun, the man at the
helm, the man sending up shells in the hoist has no discretion unless
indeed the gear goes wrong, and he has to use his wits to put it right
again. With us the infantry scout, a boy in his teens perhaps, may have
to decide whether to open fire, to lie low or to fall back; whether to
bring on a battle or avoid it. But the Fleet to-day is working like an
army; the ships are widely scattered each one on its own, except in so
far as wireless may serve, and that is why I say de Robeck is working
under conditions just as unusual to him as mine are to me.
My station is up in the conning tower with de Robeck. The conning tower
is a circular metal chamber, like a big cooking pot. Here we are, all
eyes, like potatoes in the cooking pot aforesaid, trying to peep through
a slit where the lid is raised a few inches, _ad hoc_, as these blasted
politicians like to say. My Staff are not with me in this holy of
holies, but are stowed away in steel towers or jammed into 6-inch
batteries.
So we kept moving along and at 4.30 a.m. were off Sedd-el-Bahr. All
quiet and grey. Thence we steamed for Gaba Tepe and midway, about 5
o'clock, heard a very heavy fire from Helles behind us. The Turks are
putting up some fight. Now we are off Gaba Tepe!
The day was just breaking over the jagged hills; the sea was glassy
smooth; the landing of the lads from the South was in full swing; the
shrapnel was bursting over the water; the patter of musketry came
creeping out to sea; we are in for it now; the machine guns muttered as
through chattering teeth--up to our necks in it now. But would we be out
of it? No; not one of us; not for five hundred years stuffed full of
dullness and routine.
By 5.35 the rattle of small arms quieted down; we heard that about 4,000
fighting men had been landed; we could see boat-loads making for the
land; swarms trying to straighten themselves out along the shore; other
groups digging and hacking down the brushwood. Even with our glasses
they did not look much bigger than ants. God, one would think, cannot
see them at all or He would put a stop to this sort of panorama
altogether. And yet, it would be a pity if He missed it; for these
fellows have been worth the making. They are not charging up into this
Sari Bair range for money or by compulsion. They fight for love--all the
way from the Southern Cross for love of the old country and of liberty.
Wave after wave of the little ants press up and disappear. We lose sight
of them the moment they lie down. Bravo! every man on our great ship
longs to be with them. But the main battle called. The Admiral was keen
to take me when and where the need might most arise. So we turned South
and steamed slowly back along the coast to Cape Helles.
Opposite Krithia came another great moment. We have made good the
landing--sure--it is a fact. I have to repeat the word to myself several
times, "fact," "fact," "fact," so as to be sure I am awake and standing
here looking at live men through a long telescope. The thing seems
unreal; as though I were in a dream, instead of on a battleship. To see
words working themselves out upon the ground; to watch thoughts move
over the ground as fighting men....!
Both Battalions, the Plymouth and the K.O.S.B.s, had climbed the high
cliff without loss; so it was signalled; there is no firing; the Turks
have made themselves scarce; nothing to show danger or stress; only
parties of our men struggling up the sandy precipice by zigzags,
carrying munitions and large glittering kerosine tins of water. Through
the telescope we can now make out a number of our fellows in groups
along the crest of the cliff, quite peacefully reposing--probably
smoking. This promises great results to our arms--not the repose or the
smoking, for I hope that won't last long--but the enemy's surprise. In
spite of Egypt and the _Egyptian Gazette_; in spite of the spy system of
Constantinople, we have brought off our tactical _coup_ and surprised
the enemy Chief. The bulk of the Turks are not at Gaba Tepe; here, at
"Y," there are none at all!
In a sense, and no mean sense either, I am as much relieved, and as
sanguine too, at the _coup_ we have brought off here as I was just now
to see Birdie's four thousand driving the Turks before them into the
mountains. The schemes are not on the same scale. If the Australians get
through to Mal Tepe the whole Turkish Army on the Peninsula will be done
in. If the "Y" Beach lot press their advantage they may cut off the
enemy troops on the toe of the Peninsula. With any luck, the K.O.S.B.s
and Plymouths at "Y" should get right on the line of retreat of the
Turks who are now fighting to the South.
The point at issue as we sailed down to "X" Beach was whether that
little force at "Y" should not be reinforced by the Naval Division who
were making a feint against the Bulair Lines and had, by now, probably
finished their work. Braithwaite has been speaking to me about it. The
idea appealed to me very strongly because I have been all along most
keen on the "Y" Beach plan which is my own special child; and this would
be to make the most of it and press it for all it was worth. But, until
the main battle develops more clearly at Gaba Tepe and at Sedd-el-Bahr
I must not commit the only troops I have in hand as my
Commander-in-Chief's reserve.
When we got to "X" Beach the foreshore and cliffs had been made good
without much loss in the first instance, we were told, though there is a
hot fight going on just south of it. But fresh troops will soon be
landing:--so far so good. Further round, at "W" Beach, another lodgment
had been effected; very desperate and bloody, we are told by the Naval
Beachmaster: and indeed we can see some of the dead, but the Lancashire
Fusiliers hold the beach though we don't seem yet to have penetrated
inland. By Sedd-el-Bahr, where we hove to about 6.45, the light was very
baffling; land wrapped in haze, sun full in our eyes. Here we watched as
best we could over the fight being put up by the Turks against our
forlorn hope on the _River Clyde_. Very soon it became clear that we
were being held. Through our glasses we could quite clearly watch the
sea being whipped up all along the beach and about the _River Clyde_ by
a pelting storm of rifle bullets. We could see also how a number of our
dare-devils were up to their necks in this tormented water trying to
struggle on to land from the barges linking the River Clyde to the
shore. There was a line of men lying flat down under cover of a little
sandbank in the centre of the beach. They were so held under by fire
they dared not, evidently, stir. Watching these gallant souls from the
safety of a battleship gave me a hateful feeling: Roger Keyes said to me
he simply could not bear it. Often a Commander may have to watch
tragedies from a post of safety. That is all right. I have had my share
of the hair's breadth business and now it becomes the turn of the
youngsters. But, from the battleship, you are outside the frame of the
picture. The thing becomes monstrous; too cold-blooded; like looking on
at gladiators from the dress circle. The moment we became satisfied that
none of our men had made their way further than a few feet above sea
level, the _Queen_ opened a heavy fire from her 6-inch batteries upon
the Castle, the village and the high steep ground ringing round the
beach in a semi-circle. The enemy lay very low somewhere underground. At
times the _River Clyde_ signalled that the worst fire came from the old
Fort and Sedd-el-Bahr; at times that these bullets were pouring out from
about the second highest rung of seats on the West of that amphitheatre
in which we were striving to take our places. Ashore the machine guns
and rifles never ceased--tic tac, tic tac, brrrr--tic tac, tic tac,
brrrrrr...... Drowned every few seconds by our tremendous salvoes, this
more nervous noise crept back insistently into our ears in the interval.
As men fixed in the grip of nightmare, we were powerless--unable to do
anything but wait.
[Illustration: S.S. "River Clyde" "Central News" photo.]
When we saw our covering party fairly hung up under the fire from the
Castle and its outworks, it became a question of issuing fresh orders to
the main body who had not yet been committed to that attack. There was
no use throwing them ashore to increase the number of targets on the
beach. Roger Keyes started the notion that these troops might well be
diverted to "Y" where they could land unopposed and whence they might be
able to help their advance guard at "V" more effectively than by direct
reinforcement if they threatened to cut the Turkish line of retreat from
Sedd-el-Bahr. Braithwaite was rather dubious from the orthodox General
Staff point of view as to whether it was sound for G.H.Q. to barge into
Hunter-Weston's plans, seeing he was executive Commander of the whole
of this southern invasion. But to me the idea seemed simple common
sense. If it did not suit Hunter-Weston's book, he had only to say so.
Certainly Hunter-Weston was in closer touch with all these landings than
we were; it was not for me to force his hands: there was no question of
that: so at 9.15 I wirelessed as follows:
"G.O.C. in C. to G.O.C. _Euryalus_."
"Would you like to get some more men ashore on 'Y' beach? If so,
trawlers are available."
Three quarters of an hour passed; the state of affairs at Sedd-el-Bahr
was no better, and in an attack if you don't get better you get worse;
the supports were not being landed; no answer had come to hand. So
repeated my signal to Hunter-Weston, making it this time personal from
me to him and ordering him to acknowledge receipt. (Lord Bobs'
wrinkle):--
"General Hamilton to General Hunter-Weston, _Euryalus_.
"Do you want any more men landed at 'Y'? There are trawlers available.
Acknowledge the signal."
At 11 a.m. I got this answer:--
"From General Hunter-Weston to G.O.C. _Queen Elizabeth_.
"Admiral Wemyss and Principal Naval Transport Officer state that to
interfere with present arrangements and try to land men at 'Y' Beach
would delay disembarkation."
There was some fuss about the _Cornwallis_. She ought to have been back
from Morto Bay and lending a hand here, but she had not turned up. All
sorts of surmises. Now we hear she has landed our right flank attack
very dashingly and that we have stormed de Tott's Battery! I fear the
South Wales Borderers are hardly strong enough alone to move across and
threaten Sedd-el-Bahr from the North. But the news is fine. How I wish
we had left "V" Beach severely alone. Big flanking attacks at "Y" and
"S" might have converged on Sedd-el-Bahr and carried it from the rear
when none of the garrison could have escaped. But then, until we tried,
we were afraid fire from Asia might defeat the de Tott's Battery attack
and that the "Y" party might not scale the cliffs. The Turks are
stronger down here than at Gaba Tepe. Still, I should doubt if they are
in any great force; quite clearly the bulk of them have been led astray
by our feints, and false rumours. Otherwise, had they even a regiment in
close reserve, they must have eaten up the S.W.B. as they stormed the
Battery.
About noon, a Naval Officer (Lieutenant Smith), a fine fellow, came off
to get some more small arm ammunition for the machine guns on the _River
Clyde_. He said the state of things on and around that ship was "awful,"
a word which carried twentyfold weight owing to the fact that it was
spoken by a youth never very emotional, I am sure, and now on his mettle
to make his report with indifference and calm. The whole landing place
at "V" Beach is ringed round with fire. The shots from our naval guns,
smashing as their impact appears, might as well be confetti for all the
effect they have upon the Turkish trenches. The _River Clyde_ is
commanded and swept not only by rifles at 100 yards' range, but by
pom-poms and field guns. Her own double battery of machine guns mounted
in a sandbag revetment in her bows are to some extent forcing the enemy
to keep their heads down and preventing them from actually rushing the
little party of our men who are crouching behind the sand bank. But
these same men of ours cannot raise head or hand one inch beyond that
lucky ledge of sand by the water's brink. And the bay at Sedd-el-Bahr,
so the last messengers have told us, had turned red. The _River Clyde_
so far saves the situation. She was only ready two days before we
plunged.
At 1.30 heard that d'Amade had taken Kum Kale. De Robeck had already
heard independently by wireless that the French (the 6th Colonials under
Nogués) had carried the village by a bayonet charge at 9.35 a.m. On the
Asiatic side, then, things are going as we had hoped. The Russian
_Askold_ and the _Jeanne d'Arc_ are supporting our Allies in their
attack. Being so hung up at "V," I have told d'Amade that he will not be
able to disembark there as arranged, but that he will have to take his
troops round to "W" and march them across.
At two o'clock a large number of our wounded who had taken refuge under
the base of the arches of the old Fort at Sedd-el-Bahr began to signal
for help. The _Queen Elizabeth_ sent away a picket boat which passed
through the bullet storm and most gallantly brought off the best part of
them.
Soon after 2 o'clock we were cheered by sighting our own brave fellows
making a push from the direction of "W." We reckon they must be
Worcesters and Essex men moving up to support the Royal Fusiliers and
the Lancashire Fusiliers, who have been struggling unaided against the
bulk of the Turkish troops. The new lot came along by rushes from the
Westwards, across from "X" to "W" towards Sedd-el-Bahr, and we prayed
God very fervently they might be able to press on so as to strike the
right rear of the enemy troops encircling "V" Beach. At 3.10 the leading
heroes--we were amazed at their daring--actually stood up in order the
better to cut through a broad belt of wire entanglement. One by one the
men passed through and fought their way to within a few yards of a
redoubt dominating the hill between Beaches "W" and "V." This belt of
wire ran perpendicularly, not parallel, to the coastline and had
evidently been fixed up precisely to prevent what we were now about to
attempt. To watch V.C.s being won by wire cutting; to see the very
figure and attitude of the hero; to be safe oneself except from the off
chance of a shell,--was like being stretched upon the rack! All day we
hung _vis-à-vis_ this inferno. With so great loss and with so desperate
a situation the white flag would have gone up in the South African War
but there was no idea of it to-day and I don't feel afraid of it even
now, in the dark of a moonless night, where evil thoughts are given most
power over the mind.
Nor does Hunter-Weston. We had a hurried dinner, de Robeck, Keyes,
Braithwaite, Godfrey, Hope and I, in the signal office under the bridge.
As we were finishing Hunter-Weston came on board. After he had told us
his story, breathlessly and listened to with breathless interest, I
asked him what about our troops at "Y"? He thought they were now in
touch with our troops at "X" but that they had been through some hard
fighting to get there. His last message had been that they were being
hard pressed but as he had heard nothing more since then he assumed they
were all right--! Anyway, he was cheery, stout-hearted, quite a good
tonic and--on the whole--his news is good.
To sum up the doings of the day; the French have dealt a brilliant
stroke at Kum Kale; we have fixed a grip on the hills to the North of
Gaba Tepe; also, we have broken through the enemy's defences at "X" and
"W," two out of the three beaches at the South point of the Peninsula.
The "hold-up" at the third, "V" (or Sedd-el-Bahr) causes me the keenest
anxiety--it would never do if we were forced to re-embark at night as
has been suggested--we must stick it until our advance from "X" and "W"
opens that sally port from the sea. There is always in the background of
my mind dread lest help should reach the enemy _before_ we have done
with Sedd-el-Bahr. The enveloping attacks on both enemy flanks have come
off brilliantly, but have not cut the enemy's line of retreat, or so
threatened it that they have to make haste to get back. At "S" (Eski
Hissarlick or Morto Bay) the 2nd South Wales Borderers have landed in
very dashing style though under fire from big fortress artillery as well
as field guns and musketry. On shore they deployed and, helped by
sailors from the _Cornwallis_, have carried the Turkish trenches in
front of them at the bayonet's point. They are now dug in on a
commanding spur but are anxious at finding themselves all alone and say
they do not feel able, owing to their weakness, to manoeuvre or to
advance. From "Y," opposite Krithia, there is no further news. But two
good battalions at large and on the war path some four or five miles in
rear of the enemy should do something during the next few hours. I was
right, so it seems, about getting ashore before the enemy could see to
shoot out to sea. At Gaba Tepe; opposite Krithia and by Morto Bay we
landed without too much loss. Where we waited to bombard, as at Helles
and Sedd-el-Bahr, we have got it in the neck.
This "V" Beach business is the blot. Sedd-el-Bahr was supposed to be the
softest landing of the lot, as it was the best harbour and seemed to lie
specially at the mercy of the big guns of the Fleet. Would that we had
left it severely alone and had landed a big force at Morto Bay whence we
could have forced the Sedd-el-Bahr Turks to fall back.
One thing is sure. Whatever happens to us here we are bound to win
glory. There are no other soldiers quite of the calibre of our chaps in
the world; they have _esprit de corps_; they are _volunteers_ every one
of them; they are _for it_; our Officers--our rank and file--have been
so _entered_ to this attack that they will all die--that we will all
die--sooner than give way before the Turk. The men are not fighting
blindly as in South Africa: they are not fighting against forces with
whose motives they half sympathise. They have been told, and told again,
exactly what we are after. They understand. Their eyes are wide open:
they _know_ that the war can only be brought to an end by our joining
hands quickly with the Russians: they _know_ that the fate of the Empire
depends on the courage they display. Should the Fates so decree, the
whole brave Army may disappear during the night more dreadfully than
that of Sennacherib; but assuredly they will not surrender: where so
much is dark, where many are discouraged, in this knowledge I feel both
light and joy.
Here I write--think--have my being. To-morrow night where shall we be?
Well; what then; what of the worst? At least we shall have lived, acted,
dared. We are half way through--we shall not look back.
As night began to settle down over the land, the _Queen Elizabeth_
seemed to feel the time had come to give full vent to her wrath. An
order from the bridge, and, in the twinkling of an eye, she shook from
stem to stern with the recoil from her own efforts. The great ship was
fighting all out, all in action. Every gun spouted flame and a roar
went up fit to shiver the stars of Heaven. Ears stopped with wax; eyes
half blinded by the scorching yellow blasts; still, in some chance
seconds interval, we could hear the hive-like b rr rr rr rr rr r r r r
of the small arms plying on the shore; still see, through some break in
the acrid smoke, the profile of the castle and houses; nay, of the very
earth itself and the rocky cliff; see them all, change, break, dissolve
into dust; crumble as if by enchantment into strange new outlines, under
the enormous explosions of our 15-in. lyddite shells. Buildings gutted:
walls and trenches turned inside out and upside down: friend and foe
surely must be wiped out together under such a fire: at least they are
stupefied--must cease taking a hand with their puny rifles and machine
guns? Not so. Amidst falling ruins; under smoke clouds of yellow, black,
green and white; the beach, the cliffs and the ramparts of the Castle
began, in the oncoming dusk, to sparkle all over with hundreds of tiny
flecks of rifle fire.
Just before the shadows of night hid everything from sight, we could see
that many of our men, who had been crouching all day under the sandy
bank in the centre of the arena, were taking advantage of the pillars of
smoke raised between them and their enemy to edge away to their right
and scale the rampart leading to the Fort of Sedd-el-Bahr. Other small
clusters lay still--they have made their last attack.
Now try to sleep. What of those men fighting for their lives in the
darkness. I put them there. Might they not, all of them, be sailing
back to safe England, but for me? And I sleep! To sleep whilst thousands
are killing one another close by! Well, why not; I _must_ sleep whilst I
may. The legend whereby a Commander-in-Chief works wonders during a
battle dies hard. He may still lose the battle in a moment by losing
heart. He may still help to win the battle by putting a brave face upon
the game when it seems to be up. By his character, he may still stop the
rot and inspire his men to advance once more to the assault. The old
Bible idea of the Commander:--when his hands grew heavy Amalek
advanced; when he raised them and willed victory Israel prevailed
over the heathen! As regards directions, modifications, orders,
counter-orders,--in precise proportion as his preparations and operation
orders have been thoroughly conceived and carried out, so will the
actual conflict find him leaving the actual handling of the troops to
Hunter-Weston as I am bound to do. Old Oyama cooled his brain during the
battle of the Shaho by shooting pigeons sitting on Chinese chimneys.
King Richard before Bosworth saw ghosts. My own dark hours pass more
easily as I make my cryptic jottings in pedlar's French. The detachment
of the writer comes over me; calms down the tumult of the mind and paves
a path towards the refuge of sleep. No order is to be issued until I get
reports and requests. I can't think now of anything left undone that I
ought to have done; I have no more troops to lay my hands
on--Hunter-Weston has more than he can land to-night; I won't mend
matters much by prowling up and down the gangways. Braithwaite calls me
if he must. No word yet about the losses except that they have been
heavy. If the Turks get hold of a lot of fresh men and throw them upon
us during the night,--perhaps they may knock us off into the sea. No
General knows his luck. That's the beauty of the business. But I feel
sanguine in the spirit of the men; sanguine in my own spirit; sanguine
in the soundness of my scheme. What with the landing at Gaba Tepe and at
Kum Kale, and the feints at Bulair and Besika Bay, the Turkish troops
here will get no help to-night. And our fellows are steadily pouring
ashore.
_26th April, 1915. H.M.S. "Queen Elizabeth."_ At 12.5 a.m. I was dragged
out of a dead sleep by Braithwaite who kept shaking me by the shoulder
and saying, "Sir Ian! Sir Ian!!" I had been having a good time for an
hour far away somewhere, far from bloody turmoil, and before I quite
knew where I was, my Chief of Staff repeated what he had, I think, said
several times already, "Sir Ian, you've got to come right along--a
question of life and death--you must settle it!" Braithwaite is a cool
hand, but his tone made me wide awake in a second. I sprang from bed;
flung on my "British Warm" and crossed to the Admiral's cabin--not his
own cabin but the dining saloon--where I found de Robeck himself,
Rear-Admiral Thursby (in charge of the landing of the Australian and New
Zealand Army Corps), Roger Keyes, Braithwaite, Brigadier-General
Carruthers (Deputy Adjutant and Quartermaster-General of the Australian
and New Zealand Army Corps) and Brigadier-General Cunliffe Owen
(Commanding Royal Artillery of the Australian and New Zealand Army
Corps). A cold hand clutched my heart as I scanned their faces.
Carruthers gave me a message from Birdwood written in Godley's writing.
I read it aloud:--
"Both my Divisional Generals and Brigadiers have represented to me that
they fear their men are thoroughly demoralised by shrapnel fire to which
they have been subjected all day after exhaustion and gallant work in
morning. Numbers have dribbled back from firing line and cannot be
collected in this difficult country. Even New Zealand Brigade which has
been only recently engaged lost heavily and is to some extent
demoralised. If troops are subjected to shell fire again to-morrow
morning there is likely to be a fiasco as I have no fresh troops with
which to replace those in firing line. I know my representation is most
serious but if we are to re-embark it must be at once.
(_Sd._) "BIRDWOOD."
The faces round that table took on a look--when I close my eyes there
they sit,--a look like nothing on earth unless it be the guests when
their host flings salt upon the burning raisins. To gain time I asked
one or two questions about the tactical position on shore, but
Carruthers and Cunliffe Owen seemed unable to add any detail to
Birdwood's general statement.
I turned to Thursby and said, "Admiral, what do you think?" He said, "It
will take the best part of three days to get that crowd off the
beaches." "And where are the Turks?" I asked. "On the top of 'em!"
"Well, then," I persisted, "tell me, Admiral, what do _you_ think?"
"What do I think: well, I think myself they will stick it out if only it
is put to them that they must." Without another word, all keeping
silence, I wrote Birdwood as follows:--
"Your news is indeed serious. But there is nothing for it but to dig
yourselves right in and stick it out. It would take at least two days to
re-embark you as Admiral Thursby will explain to you. Meanwhile, the
Australian submarine has got up through the Narrows and has torpedoed a
gunboat at Chunuk. Hunter-Weston despite his heavy losses will be
advancing to-morrow which should divert pressure from you. Make a
personal appeal to your men and Godley's to make a supreme effort to
hold their ground.
(_Sd._) "IAN HAMILTON."
"P.S. You have got through the difficult business, now you have only to
dig, dig, dig, until you are safe. Ian H."
The men from Gaba Tepe made off with this letter; not the men who came
down here at all, but new men carrying a clear order. Be the upshot what
it may, I shall never repent that order. Better to die like heroes on
the enemy's ground than be butchered like sheep on the beaches like the
runaway Persians at Marathon.
De Robeck and Keyes were aghast; they pat me on the back; I hope they
will go on doing so if things go horribly wrong. Midnight decisions take
it out of one. Turned in and slept for three solid hours like a top till
I was set spinning once more at 4 a.m.
At dawn we were off Gaba Tepe. Thank God the idea of retreat had already
made itself scarce. The old _Queen_ let fly her first shot at 5.30 a.m.
Her shrapnel is a knockout. The explosion of the monstrous shell darkens
the rising sun; the bullets cover an acre; the enemy seems stunned for a
while after each discharge. One after the other she took on the Turkish
guns along Sari Bair and swept the skyline with them.
A message of relief and thankfulness came out to us from the shore.
Seeing how much they loved us--or rather our Long Toms--we hung around
until about half-past eight smothering the enemy's guns whenever they
dared show their snouts. By that hour our troops had regained their grip
of themselves and also of the enemy, and the firing of the Turks was
growing feeble. An organised counter-attack on the grand scale at dawn
was the one thing I dreaded, and that has not come off; only a bit of a
push over the downland by Gaba Tepe which was steadied by one of our
enormous shrapnel. About this time we heard from Hunter-Weston that
there was no material change in the situation at Helles and
Sedd-el-Bahr. I wirelessed, therefore, to d'Amade telling him he would
not be able to land his men at "V" under Sedd-el-Bahr as arranged but
that he should bring all the rest of the French troops up from Tenedos
and disembark them at "W" by Cape Helles. About this time, also, i.e.,
somewhere about 9 a.m., we picked up a wireless from the O.C. "Y" Beach
which caused us some uneasiness. "We are holding the ridge," it said,
"till the wounded are embarked." Why "till"? So I told the Admiral that
as Birdwood seemed fairly comfortable, I thought we ought to lose no
time getting back to Sedd-el-Bahr, taking "Y" Beach on our way. At once
we steamed South and hove to off "Y" Beach at 9.30 a.m. There the
_Sapphire_, _Dublin_ and _Goliath_ were lying close inshore and we could
see a trickle of our men coming down the steep cliff and parties being
ferried off to the _Goliath_: the wounded no doubt, but we did not see a
single soul going _up_ the cliff whereas there were many loose groups
hanging about on the beach. I disliked and mistrusted the looks of these
aimless dawdlers by the sea. There was no fighting; a rifle shot now and
then from the crests where we saw our fellows clearly. The little crowd
and the boats on the beach were right under them and no one paid any
attention or seemed to be in a hurry. Our naval and military signallers
were at sixes and sevens. The _Goliath_ wouldn't answer; the _Dublin_
said the force was coming off, and we could not get into touch with the
soldiers at all. At about a quarter to ten the _Sapphire_ asked us to
fire over the cliffs into the country some hundreds of yards further in,
and so the _Queen E._ gave Krithia and the South of it a taste of her
metal. Not much use as the high crests hid the intervening hinterland
from view, even from the crow's nests. A couple of shrapnel were also
fired at the crestline of the cliff about half a mile further North
where there appeared to be some snipers. But the trickling down the
cliffs continued. No one liked the look of things ashore. Our chaps can
hardly be making off in this deliberate way without orders; and yet, if
they _are_ making off "by order," Hunter-Weston ought to have consulted
me first as Birdwood consulted me in the case of the Australians and New
Zealanders last night. My inclination was to take a hand myself in this
affair but the Staff are clear against interference when I have no
knowledge of the facts--and I suppose they are right. To see a part of
my scheme, from which I had hoped so much, go wrong before my eyes is
maddening! I imagined it: I pressed it through: a second Battalion was
added to it and then the South Wales Borderers' Company. Many sailors
and soldiers, good men, had doubts as to whether the boats could get in,
or whether, having done so, men armed and accoutred would be able to
scale the yellow cliffs; or whether, having by some miracle climbed,
they would not be knocked off into the sea with bayonets as they got to
the top. I admitted every one of these possibilities but said, every
time, that taken together, they destroyed one another. If the venture
seemed so desperate even to ourselves, who are desperadoes, then the
enemy Chief would be of the same opinion only more so; so that,
supposing we _did_ get up, at least we would not find resistance
organised against us. Whether this was agreed to, or not, I cannot say.
The logic of a C.-in-C. has a convincing way of its own. But in all our
discussions one thing was taken for granted--no one doubted that once
our troops had got ashore, scaled the heights and dug themselves in,
they would be able to hold on: no one doubted that, with the British
Fleet at their backs, they would at least maintain their bridge-head
into the enemy's vitals until we could decide what to do with it.
At a quarter past ten we steamed, with anxious minds, for Cape Helles,
and on the way there, Braithwaite and I finished off our first cable to
K.:--
"Thanks to God who calmed the seas and to the Royal Navy who rowed our
fellows ashore as coolly as if at a regatta; thanks also to the
dauntless spirit shown by all ranks of both Services, we have landed
29,000 upon six beaches in the face of desperate resistance from strong
Turkish Infantry forces well backed by Artillery. Enemy are entrenched,
line upon line, behind wire entanglements spread to catch us wherever we
might try to concentrate for an advance. Worst danger zone, the open
sea, now traversed, but on land not yet out of the wood. Our main
covering detachment held up on water's edge, at foot of amphitheatre of
low cliffs round the little bay West of Sedd-el-Bahr. At sunset last
night a dashing attack was made by the 29th Division South-west along
the heights from Tekke Burnu to set free the Dublins, Munsters and
Hants, but at the hour of writing they are still pinned down to the
beach.
"The Australians have done wonderfully at Gaba Tepe. They got 8,000
ashore to one beach between 3.30 a.m. and 8.30 a.m.: due to their
courage; organisation; sea discipline and steady course of boat
practice. Navy report not one word spoken or movement made by any of
these thousands of untried troops either during the transit over the
water in the darkness or nearing the land when the bullets took their
toll. But, as the keel of the boats touched bottom, each boat-load
dashed into the water and then into the enemy's fire. At first it seemed
that nothing could stop them, but by degrees wire, scrub and cliffs;
thirst, sheer exhaustion broke the back of their impetus. Then the
enemy's howitzers and field guns had it all their own way, forcing
attack to yield a lot of ground. Things looked anxious for a bit, but by
this morning's dawn all are dug in, cool, confident.
"But for the number and good shooting of Turkish field guns and
howitzers, Birdwood would surely have carried the whole main ridge of
Sari Bair. As it is, his troops are holding a long curve upon the crests
of the lower ridges, identical, to a hundred yards, with the line
planned by my General Staff in their instructions and pencilled by them
upon the map.
"The French have stormed Kum Kale and are attacking Yeni Shahr. Although
you excluded Asia from my operations, have been forced by tactical needs
to ask d'Amade to do this and so relieve us from Artillery fire from the
Asiatic shore.
"Deeply regret to report the death of Brigadier-General Napier and to
say that our losses, though not yet estimated, are sure to be very
heavy.
"If only this night passes without misadventures, I propose to attack
Achi Baba to-morrow with whatever Hunter-Weston can scrape together of
the 29th Division. Such an attack should force the enemy to relax their
grip on Sedd-el-Bahr. I can look now to the Australians to keep any
enemy reinforcements from crossing the waist of the Peninsula."[12]
Relief about Gaba Tepe is almost swallowed up by the "Y" Beach
fiasco--as we must, I suppose, take it to be. No word yet from
Hunter-Weston.
At Helles things are much the same as last night; only, the South Wales
Borderers are now well dug in on a spur above Morto Bay and are
confident.
At 1.45 d'Amade came aboard in a torpedo boat to see me. He has been
ashore at Kum Kale and reports violent fighting and, for the time being,
victory. A very dashing landing, the village stormed; house to house
struggles; failure to carry the cemetery; last evening defensive
measures, loopholed walls, barbed wire fastened to corpses; at night
savage counter attacks led by Germans; their repulse; a wall some
hundred yards long and several feet high of Turkish corpses; our own
losses also very heavy and some good Officers among them. All this
partly from d'Amade to me; partly his Staff to my Staff. Nogués and his
brave lads have done their bit indeed for the glory of the Army of
France. Meanwhile, d'Amade is anxious to get his men off soon: he cannot
well stay where he is unless he carries the village of Yeni Shahr. Yeni
Shahr is perched on the height a mile to the South of him, but it has
been reinforced from the Besika Bay direction and to take it would be a
major operation needing a disembarkation of at least the whole of his
Division. He is keen to clear out: I agreed, and at 12.5 he went to make
his preparations.
Ten minutes later, when we were on our way back to Gaba Tepe, the
Admiral and Braithwaite both tackled me, and urged that the French
should be ordered to hold on for another twenty-four hours--even if for
no longer. Had they only raised their point before d'Amade left the
_Queen Elizabeth_! As it is, to change my mind and my orders would upset
the French very much and--on the whole--I do not think we have enough to
go upon to warrant me in doing so. The Admiral has always been keen on
Kum Kale and I quite understand that Naval aspect of the case. But it is
all I can do, as far as things have gone, to hang on by my eyelids to
the Peninsula, and let alone K.'s strong, clear order, I can hardly
consent, as a soldier, to entangle myself further in Asia, before I have
made good Achi Baba. We dare not lose another moment in getting a firm
footing on the Peninsula and that was why I had signalled d'Amade from
Gaba Tepe to bring up all the rest of his troops from Tenedos and to
disembark them at "W" (seeing we were still held up at "V") and why I
cannot now perceive any other issue. We are not strong enough to attack
on both sides of the Straits. Given one more Division we might try: as
things are, my troops won't cover the mileage. On a small scale map, in
an office, you may make mole-hills of mountains; on the ground there's
no escaping from its features.
As soon as the French Commander took his leave, we steamed back for Gaba
Tepe, passing Cape Helles at 12.20 p.m. Weather now much brighter and
warmer. Passing "Y" Beach the re-embarkation of troops was still going
on. All quiet, the _Goliath_ says: the enemy was so roughly handled in
an attack they made last night that they do not trouble our
withdrawal--too pleased to see us go, it seems! So this part of our plan
has gone clean off the rails. Keyes, Braithwaite, Aspinall, Dawnay,
Godfrey are sick--but their disappointment is nothing to mine. De Robeck
agrees that we don't know enough yet to warrant us in fault-finding or
intervention. My orders ought to have been taken before a single
unwounded Officer or man was ferried back aboard ship. Never, since
modern battles were invented by the Devil, has a Commander-in-Chief been
so accessible to a message or an appeal from any part of the force. Each
theatre has its outfit of signallers, wireless, etc., and I can either
answer within five minutes, or send help, or rush myself upon the scene
at 25 miles an hour with the _Q.E.'s_ fifteen inchers in my pocket. Here
there is no question of emergency, or enemy pressure, or of haste; so
much we see plain enough with our own eyes.
Whilst having a hurried meal, Jack Churchill rushed down from the crow's
nest to say that he thought we had carried the Fort above Sedd-el-Bahr.
He had seen through a powerful naval glass some figures standing erect
and silhouetted against the sky on the parapet. Only, he argued, British
soldiers would stand against the skyline during a general action. That
is so, and we were encouraged to be hopeful.
On to Gaba Tepe just in time to see the opening, the climax and the end
of the dreaded Turkish counter attack. The Turks have been fighting us
off and on all the time, but this is--or rather I can happily now say
"was"--an organised effort to burst in through our centre. Whether
burglars or battles are in question, give me sunshine. What had been a
terror when Braithwaite woke me out of my sleep at midnight to meet the
Gaba Tepe deputation was but a heightened, tightened sensation thirteen
hours later.
No doubt the panorama was alarming, but we all of us somehow--we on the
_Q.E._--felt sure that Australia and New Zealand had pulled themselves
together and were going to give Enver and his Army a very disagreeable
surprise.
The contrast of the actual with the might-have-been is the secret of our
confidence. Imagine, had these brave lads entrusted to us by the
Commonwealth and Dominion now been crowding on the beaches--crowding
into their boats--whilst some desperate rearguard was trying to hold off
the onrush of the triumphant Turks. Never would any of us have got over
so shocking a disaster; now they are about to win their spurs (D.V.).
Here come the Turks! First a shower of shells dropping all along the
lower ridges and out over the surface of the Bay. Very pretty the
shells--at half a mile! Prince of Wales's feathers springing suddenly
out of the blue to a loud hammer stroke; high explosives: or else the
shrapnel; pure white, twisting a moment and pirouetting as children in
their nightgowns pirouette, then gliding off the field two or three
together, an aerial ladies' chain. Next our projectiles, Thursby's from
the _Queen_, _Triumph_, _Majestic_, _Bacchante_, _London_, and _Prince
of Wales_; over the sea they flew; over the heads of our fighters;
covered the higher hillsides and skyline with smudges of black, yellow
and green. Smoky fellows these--with a fiery spark at their core, and
wherever they touch the earth, rocks leap upwards in columns of dust to
the sky. Under so many savage blows, the labouring mountains brought
forth Turks. Here and there advancing lines; dots moving over green
patches; dots following one another across a broad red scar on the flank
of Sari Bair: others following--and yet others--and others--and others,
closing in, disappearing, reappearing in close waves converging on the
central and highest part of our position. The tic tac of the machine
guns and the rattle of the rifles accompanied the roar of the big guns
as hail, pouring down on a greenhouse, plays fast and loose amidst the
peals of God's artillery: we have got some guns right up the precipitous
cliff: the noise doubled; redoubled; quadrupled, expanded into one
immense tiger-like growl--a solid mass of the enemy showed itself
crossing the green patch--and then the good _Queen Lizzie_ picked up her
targets--crash!!! Stop your ears with wax.
The fire slackened. The attack had ebbed away; our fellows were holding
their ground. A few, very few, little dots had run back over that green
patch--the others had passed down into the world of darkness.
A signaller was flag-wagging from a peak about the left centre of our
line:--"The boys will never forget the _Queen Elizabeth's_ help" was
what he said.
Jack Churchill was right. At 1.50 a wireless came in to say that the
Irish and Hants from the _River Clyde_ had forced their way through
Sedd-el-Bahr village and had driven the enemy clean out of all his
trenches and castles. Ah, well; _that_ load is off our minds: every one
smiling.
Passed on the news to Birdwood: I doubt the Turks coming on again--but,
in case, the 29th Division's feat of arms will be a tonic.
I was wrong. At 3 p.m. the enemy made another effort, this time on the
left of our line. We shook them badly and were rewarded by seeing a New
Zealand charge. Two Battalions racing due North along the coast and
foothills with levelled bayonets. Then again the tumult died away.
At 4.30 we left Gaba Tepe and sailed for Helles. At 4.50 we were
opposite Krithia passing "Y" Beach. The whole of the troops, plus
wounded, plus gear, have vanished. Only the petrol tins they took for
water right and left of their pathway up the cliff; huge diamonds in the
evening sun. The enemy let us slip off without shot fired. The last
boat-load got aboard the _Goliath_ at 4 p.m., but they had forgotten
some of their kit, so the Bluejackets rowed ashore as they might to
Southsea pier and brought it off for them--and again no shot fired!
Hove to off Cape Helles at quarter past five. Joyous confirmation of
Sedd-el-Bahr capture and our lines run straight across from "X" to Morto
Bay, but a very sad postscript now to that message: Doughty Wylie has
been killed leading the sally from the beach.
The death of a hero strips victory of her wings. Alas, for Doughty
Wylie! Alas, for that faithful disciple of Charles Gordon; protector of
the poor and of the helpless; noblest of those knights ever ready to lay
down their lives to uphold the fair fame of England. Braver soldier
never drew sword. He had no hatred of the enemy. His spirit did not need
that ugly stimulant. Tenderness and pity filled his heart and yet he had
the overflowing enthusiasm and contempt of death which alone can give
troops the volition to attack when they have been crouching so long
under a pitiless fire. Doughty Wylie was no flash-in-the-pan V.C.
winner. He was a steadfast hero. Years ago, at Aleppo, the mingled
chivalry and daring with which he placed his own body as a shield
between the Turkish soldiery and their victims during a time of massacre
made him admired even by the Moslems. Now; as he would have wished to
die, so has he died.
For myself, in the secret mind that lies beneath the conscious, I think
I had given up hope that the covering detachment at "V" would work out
their own salvation. My thought was to keep pushing in troops from "W"
Beach until the enemy had fallen back to save themselves from being cut
off. The Hampshires, Dublins and Munsters have turned their own tight
corner, but I hope these fine Regiments will never forget what they owe
to one Doughty Wylie, the Mr. Greatheart of our war.
The Admiral and Braithwaite have been at me again to urge that the
French should hang on another day at Kum Kale. They point out that the
crisis seems over for the time being both at Helles and Gaba Tepe and
argue that this puts a different aspect on the whole question. That is
so, and on the whole, I think "yes" and have asked d'Amade to comply.
At 6.20 p.m. started back intending to see all snug at Gaba Tepe, but,
picking up some Turkish guns as targets in Krithia and on the slopes of
Achi Baba, we hove to off Cape Tekke and opened fire. We soon silenced
these guns, though others, unseen, kept popping. At 6.50 we ceased fire.
At 7, Admiral Guépratte came on board and tells us splendid news about
Kum Kale. At 2 o'clock the artillery fire from shore and ships became
too hot for the Turks entrenched in the cemetery and they put up the
white flag and came in as prisoners, 500 of them. A hundred more had
been taken during the night fighting, but there was treachery and some
of those were killed. Kum Kale has been a brilliant bit of work, though
I fear we have lost nearly a quarter of our effectives. Guépratte agrees
we would do well to hold on for another 24 hours. At a quarter past
seven he took his leave and we let drop our anchor where we were, off
Cape Tekke.
So now we stand on Turkish _terra firma_. The price has been paid for
the first step and that is the step that counts. Blood, sweat, fire;
with these we have forged our master key and forced it into the lock of
the Hellespont, rusty and dusty with centuries of disuse. Grant us, O
Lord, tenacity to turn it; determination to turn it, till through that
open door _Queen Elizabeth_ of England sails East for the Golden Horn!
When in far off ages men discuss over vintages ripened in Mars the black
superstitions and bloody mindedness of the Georgian savages, still they
will have to drain a glass to the memory of the soldiers and sailormen
who fought here.