TWO CORPS OR AN ALLY?
_11th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Day dull and overcast. Vice-Admiral
came over to see me in the morning. Neither of us has had a reply to his
cable; instead, he has been told two enemy submarines are on their way
to pay us a visit. The approach of these mechanical monsters opens up
vistas thronged with shadowy forebodings. De Robeck begs me to set his
mind at ease by landing with my Staff forthwith. Have sent Officers to
survey the ground between Helles and Sedd-el-Bahr and to see if they can
find room for us. We would all rather be on shore than board ship, but
Helles and "V" Beaches are already overcrowded, and we should be
squeezed in cheek by jowl, within a few hundred yards of the two
Divisional Headquarters Staffs.
_12th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Raining hard. Busy all morning. A
cable from Lord K. to say he is sending out the Lowland Division. We are
all as pleased as Punch! especially (so Braithwaite tells me) Roger
Keyes who looks on this as a good omen for the naval attack proposals.
Had he not meant the Fleet to shove in K. must have made some reference
to the second Division, surely. Have cabled back at once to K. giving
him warmest thanks and begging him to look, personally, into the
question of the command of the coming Division. Have begged him to take
Leslie Rundle's opinion on the point and have pressed it by saying,
"Imperturbable calm in the Commander is essential above all things in
these operations." Most of the troop transports have left their
anchorage and gone back to Mudros for fear of submarines.
Went ashore at 3 o'clock. Saw Hunter-Weston and then inspected the 29th
Division just in from the firing line. The ground was heavy and sloppy
after the rain. I walked as far as the trenches of the 86th Brigade and
saw amongst other Corps the Essex, Hants, Lancashire Fusiliers and 5th
Royal Scots. Spent over an hour chatting to groups of Officers and men
who looked like earth to earth, caked as they were with mud, haggard
with lack of sleep, pale as the dead, many of them slightly wounded and
bandaged, hand or head, their clothes blood-stained, their eyes
blood-shot. Who could have believed that only a fortnight ago these same
figures were clean as new pins; smart and well-liking! Two-thirds of
each Battalion were sound asleep in pools of mud and water--like corpses
half buried! This sounds horrible but the hearty welcome extended to us
by all ranks and the pride they took in their achievements was a sublime
triumph of mind over matter. Our voluntary service regulars are the last
descendants of those rulers of the ancient world, the Roman
Legionaries. Oh that their ranks could be kept filled and that a mould
so unique was being used to its fullest in forming new regulars.
On my way back to the beach I saw the Plymouth Battalion as it marched
in from the front line. They were quite different excepting only in the
fact that they also had done marvels of fighting and endurance. They
were done: they had come to the end of their tether. Not only physical
exhaustion but moral exhaustion. They could not raise a smile in the
whole battalion. The faces of Officers and men had a crushed, utterly
finished expression: some of the younger Officers especially had that
true funeral set about their lips which spreads the contagion of gloom
through the hearts of the bravest soldiers. As each company front formed
the knees of the rank and file seemed to give way. Down they fell and
motionless remained. An hour or two of rest, their Colonel says, will
make all the difference in what the French call their _allure_, but not
quite so soon I think. These are the New Armies. They are not
specialised types like the Old Army. They have nerves, the defects of
their good qualities. They are more susceptible to the horrors and
discomforts of what they were never brought up to undergo. The
philosophy of the battlefield is not part of their panoply. No one
fights better than they do--for a spell--and a good long spell too. But
they have not the invincible carelessness or temperamental springiness
of the old lot--and how should they?
In the evening I received General d'Amade who had come over to pay his
farewell visit. He is permitted to let me see his order of recall.
"Important modifications having come about in the general political
situation" his Government have urgent need for his services on a
"military mission." D'Amade is a most charming, chivalrous and loyal
soldier. He has lost his son fighting in France and he has had his
headquarters right down in the middle of his 75's where the infernal din
night and day must indeed murder sleep. He is a delightful person and,
in the combat, too brave. We all wish him luck. For Kum Kale and for
what he has done, suffered and lost he deserves great Kudos in his
country.
By order of the Vice-Admiral this ship is to anchor at Tenedos. My
informal confab with the heroes of the 29th Division, and their utter
unconsciousness of their own glorious conduct have moved me to write
these few words in their honour:--
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS,
_12th May, 1915._
For the first time for 18 days and nights it has been found possible to
withdraw the 29th Division from the fire fight. During the whole of that
long period of unprecedented strain the Division has held ground or
gained it, against the bullets and bayonets of the constantly renewed
forces of the foe. During the whole of that long period they have been
illuminating the pages of military history with their blood. The losses
have been terrible, but mingling with the deep sorrow for fallen
comrades arises a feeling of pride in the invincible spirit which has
enabled the survivors to triumph where ordinary troops must inevitably
have failed. I tender to Major-General Hunter-Weston and to his Division
at the same time my profoundest sympathy with their losses and my
warmest congratulations on their achievement.
IAN HAMILTON,
_General._
[Illustration: GENERAL D'AMADE]
Also I have penned a farewell line to d'Amade:
GENERAL HEADQUARTERS,
MEDN. EXPED. FORCE,
_12th May, 1915._
MON GÉNÉRAL,
With deep personal sadness I learn that your country has urgent need of
your great experience elsewhere.
From the very first you and your brave troops have done all, and more
than all, that mortal man could do to further the cause we have at
heart. By day and by night, for many days and nights in succession, you
and your gallant troops have ceaselessly struggled against the enemy's
fresh reinforcements and have won from him ground at the bayonet point.
The military records of France are most glorious, but you, Mon Général,
have added fresh brilliancy, if I may say so, even to those dazzling
records.
The losses have been cruel: such losses are almost unprecedented, but it
may be some consolation hereafter to think that only by so fierce a
trial could thus have been fully disclosed the flame of patriotism which
burns in the hearts of yourself and your men.
With sincere regrets at your coming departure but with the full
assurance that in your new sphere of activity, you will continue to
render the same valuable service you have already given to France.
I remain,
Mon Général,
Your sincere friend,
IAN HAMILTON,
_General._
_13th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Hot and bright. Dead calm sea. Last
night a dense fog during which a Turkish Torpedo boat sneaked down the
Straits and torpedoed the _Goliath_. David and his sling on the grand
scale. No details yet to hand. The enemy deserve decorations--confound
them!
Got hold of a Fleet-sweeper and went off to Cape Helles. Again visited
Headquarters 29th Division, and afterwards walked through the trenches
of the 87th Brigade. Saw that fine soldier, Brigadier-General Marshall,
in command. Chatted to no end of his men--Inniskillings, Dublin
Fusiliers, etc. They have recovered their exhaustion; have cleaned up,
and look full of themselves, twice the size in fact. As I stepped on to
the little pier at Cape Helles an enemy's six-incher burst about 50
yards back, a lump of metal just clearing my right shoulder strap and
shooting into the sea with an ugly hiss. Not a big fragment but enough!
The Staff have made up their minds that we should be very much in the
wrong box if we dossed down on the toe of the Peninsula. First,--unless
we get between the Divisional Generals and the enemy, there is literally
no room! Secondly,--I should be further, in point of time, from Birdwood
and his men than if I was still on board ship. Thirdly,--the several
Headquarters of Divisions, whether French or British, would all equally
hate to have Braithwaite and myself sitting in their pockets from
morning to night. Have sent out another party, therefore, to explore
Tenedos and see if we can find a place there which will serve us till we
can make more elbow room on Gallipoli.
The Gurkhas have stalked the Bluff Redoubt and have carried it with a
rush! They are absolutely the boys for this class of country and for
this class of enemy.
Cabled Lord K. about the weakness of the 29th Division. At the very
moment when we are hoping so much from a fresh push made in conjunction
with a naval attack, the Division, the backbone of my force, are short
by over 11,000 men and 400 Officers! As a fighting unit they are on
their last legs and when they will be set upon their feet again Lord K.
knows. Were we in France we'd get the men to-morrow. If I had my own
depots in Egypt still I could see my way, but, as things are, there
seems no chance of getting a move on for another fortnight. Have cabled
K. saying, "I hope the 29th Division is soon to be made up to strength.
I had no idea when I left England that the customary 10 per cent.
reinforcement was not being taken with it by the Division although it
was to operate at so great a distance from its base." If K. gets into a
bad temper over the opening of my cable, its tail end should lift him
out again. For the enemy's extremely tenacious right has been shifted at
last. Under cover of a hooroosh by the Manchesters, the Gurkhas have
rushed a bluff 600 yards ahead of our line and are sticking to their
winnings.
_14th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Hot day, smooth sea. Disembarking
to bivouac on shore. What a contrast we must present to the Headquarters
in France! There the stately _Château_; sheets, table-cloths and motor
cars. Here the red tab patricians have to haul their own kits over the
sand.
In the afternoon d'Amade came back with General Gouraud, his successor,
the new Chief of the French. A resolute, solid looking _gaillard_ is
Gouraud. He brings a great reputation with him from the Western Front.
Quite late the Admiral came over to see me. He brings bad news. Roger
Keyes and the forwards will be cut to the heart. The Admiralty have
turned down the proposal to force the Straits simultaneously by land and
sea. We are to go on attacking; the warships are to go on supporting.
From the earliest days great commanders have rubbed in the maxim, "If
you attack, attack with all your force." Our people know better; we are
to go on attacking with half our force. First we attack with the naval
half and are held up--next we attack with the army half and are held up.
The Admiral has changed his mind about our landing and thinks it would
be best not to fix G.H.Q. at Tenedos; first, because there might be
delay in getting quickly to Anzac; secondly, because Tenedos is so close
to Asia that we might all be scuppered in our beds by a cutting-out
party of Besika Bay ruffians, unless we had a guard. But we can't run to
the pomp and circumstance of a Commander-in-Chief's guard here.
_15th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Till 3 p.m. the perspiring Staff
were re-embarking their gear. Sailed then for Helles when I saw
Hunter-Weston who gave me a full account of the attacks made on the
newly gained bluff upon our left. Shells busy bursting on "W" Beach.
Some French aeroplanes have arrived--God be praised! Shocked to hear
Birdie has been hit, but another message to say nothing serious, came
close on the heels of the first. Anchored at Imbros when I got a cable
asking me what forces I shall need to carry right through to a finish.
A crucial question, very much affected by what the Admiral told me last
night. Nothing easier than to ask for 150,000 men and then, if I fail
say I didn't get what I wanted, but the boldest leaders, Bobs, White,
Gordon, K., have always "asked for more" with a most queasy conscience.
On the face of it I need many more men if the Fleet is not to attack,
and yet I am not even supposed to have knowledge, much less an opinion,
as to what passes between the Fleet and the Admiralty!
_16th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ De Robeck came off the _Lord
Nelson_, his new Flagship, in the morning. The submarines are shadowing
him already, and there seems little doubt they are on their way.
Bridges has been badly wounded. The news upset me so got hold of H.M.S.
_Rattlesnake_ (Commander Wedgwood), and started off for Anzac. Went
ashore and saw Birdie. Doing so, I received a different sort of salute
from that to which a Commander-in-Chief landing on duty is entitled by
regulation. Quite a shower of shell fell all about us, the Turks having
spotted there was some sort of "bloke" on the _Rattlesnake_. We went
round a bit of the line, and found all well, the men in great heart and,
amidst a constant crackle of musketry, looking as if they liked it.
Birdie himself is still a little shaken by his wound of yesterday. He
had a close shave indeed. A bullet came through the chinks of a sandbag
and scalped him. He fell to the ground senseless and pouring with
blood, but when he had been picked up and washed he wanted to finish his
round of the trenches.
Embarked again under brisk shell fire and proceeded to the hospital ship
_Gascon_ where I saw General Bridges. He looked languid and pale. But
his spirit was high as ever and he smiled at a little joke I managed to
make about the way someone had taken the shelling we had just gone
through. The doctors, alas, give a bad, if not desperate, account of
him. Were he a young man, they could save him by cutting off his leg
high up, but as it is he would not stand the shock. On the other hand,
his feet are so cold from the artery being severed that they anticipate
mortification. I should have thought better have a try at cutting off
the leg, but they are not for it. Bridges will be a real loss. He was a
single-minded, upright, politics-despising soldier. With all her
magnificent rank and file, Australia cannot afford to lose Bridges. But
perhaps I am too previous. May it be so!
Spent a good long time talking to wounded men--Australians, New
Zealanders and native Indians. Both the former like to meet someone who
knows their native country, and the natives brighten up when they are
greeted in Hindustani. On returning to Imbros, got good news about the
Lancashire Territorials who have gained 180 yards of ground without
incurring any loss to speak of. They are real good chaps. They suffer
only from the regular soldiers' fault; there are too few of them here.
_17th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian." 10 p.m._ Too much work to move. In
the evening the Admiral came to see me and read my rough draft for an
answer to Lord K.'s cable. We show the Navy all our important operations
cables; they have their own ways of doing things and don't open out so
freely. On the face of it, we are invited to say what we want. Well, to
steer a middle course between my duty to my force and my loyalty to K.
is not so simple as it might seem. That middle course is (if I can only
hit it) my duty to my country. The chief puzzle of the problem is that
nothing turns out as we were told it would turn out. The landing has
been made but the Balkans fold their arms, the Italians show no
interest, the Russians do not move an inch to get across the Black Sea
(the Grand Duke Nicholas has no munitions, we hear); our submarines have
got through but they can only annoy, they cannot cut the sea
communications, and so the Turks have not fled to Bulair. Instead, enemy
submarines are actually about to get at us and our ships are being
warned they may have to make themselves scarce: last--in point of
time--but not least, not by a long way, the central idea of the original
plan, an attack by the Fleet on the Forts appears to have been entirely
shelved. At first the Fleet was to force its way through; we were to
look on; next, the Fleet and the Army were to go for the Straits side by
side; to-day, the whole problem may fairly be restated on a clean sheet
of paper, so different is it from the problem originally put to me by K.
when it was understood I would put him in an impossible position if I
pressed for reinforcements. We should be on velvet if we asked for so
many troops that we must win if we got them; whereas, if we did not get
them we could say victory was impossible. But we are not the only
fighters for the Empire. The Admiral, Braithwaite, Roger Keyes agree
with me that the fair and square thing under the circumstances is to ask
for _what is right_; not a man more than we, in our consciences, believe
we will really need,--not a man less.
Actually, after much heart searching and head scratching, my mind has
made itself up and has gone home by cable to-day. The statement is
entirely frank and covers all the ground except as regards the Fleet, a
pidgin which flies out of range:--
"(M.F. 234).
"Your No. 4644 cipher, of the 14th instant. The following is my
appreciation of the situation:
"On the one hand, there are at present on the Peninsula as many troops
as the available space and water supply can accommodate.
"On the other hand, to break through the strong opposition on my front
will require more troops. I am, therefore, in a quandary, because
although more troops are wanted there is, at present, no room for
them.[18] Moreover, the difficulty in answering your question is
accentuated by the fact that my answer must depend on whether Turkey
will continue to be left undisturbed in other parts and therefore free
to make good the undoubtedly heavy losses incurred here by sending
troops from Adrianople, Keshan, Constantinople and Asia; we now have
direct evidence that the latter has been the case.
"If the present condition of affairs in this respect were changed by the
entry into the struggle of Bulgaria or Greece or by the landing of the
Russians, my present force, kept up to strength by the necessary drafts,
plus the Army Corps asked for in my No. M.F. 216 of the 10th May, would
probably suffice to finish my task. If, however, the present situation
remains unchanged and the Turks are still able to devote so much
exclusive attention to us, I shall want an additional army corps, that
is, two army corps additional in all.
"I could not land these reinforcements on the Peninsula until I can
advance another 1,000 yards and so free the beaches from the shelling to
which they are subjected from the Western side and gain more space; but
I could land them on the adjacent islands of Tenedos, Imbros and Lemnos
and take them over later to the Peninsula for battle. This plan would
surmount the difficulties of water and space on the Peninsula and would,
perhaps, enable me to effect a surprise with the fresh divisions.
"I believe I could advance with half the loss of life that is now being
reckoned upon, if I had a liberal supply of gun ammunition, especially
of high explosive."
Only bitterest experience has forced me to insert the two stipulations
which should go without saving, (1) that my force is kept up to
strength, (2) that I have a decent allowance of gun ammunition,
especially of high explosives.
Will Lord K. meet us half way, I wonder? He is the idol of England, and
take him all in all, the biggest figure in the world. He believes, he
has an instinct, that here is the heel of the German Colossus, otherwise
immune to our arrows. Let him but put his foot down, and who dare say
him nay?
The most vital of my demands is that my formations should be kept full.
An extra 50,000 men in the shape of a new army corps is one thing. An
extra 50,000 men to feed war-trained units already in the field is
another, and very different, and very much better thing. The value of
keeping the veteran corps up to strength and the value of the same
number of rifles organized into raw battalions commanded by
inexperienced leaders is as the value of the sun to the moon. But K. and
I have never seen eye to eye here, and never will. The spirit of man is
like a precious stone: the greater it is the more room in it for a flaw.
Who in the world but K. would have swept up all the odds and ends of
detachments from about twenty different regiments of mine sent from
Pretoria to Elandsfontein to bring up remounts and clothing to their
units; who but K. could have conceived the idea of forming them into a
new corps and expecting them to fight as well as ever--instead of
legging it like the wind as they did at the first whistle of a bullet?
On the other hand, who but K., at that time, could have run the war at
all?
The 29th Division have managed to snatch another 150 yards from the
enemy, greatly strengthening the bluff upon which the Gurkhas dug
themselves in.
_18th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Villiers Stuart, Birdie's Staff
Officer, has been killed on Anzac by a shell. The submarine E.14 sailed
into harbour after a series of hair-raising adventures in the Sea of
Marmora. She is none the worse, bar the loss of one periscope from a
Turkish lucky shot. Her Commander, Boyle, comes only after Nasmith as a
pet of Roger Keyes! She got a tremendous ovation from the Fleet. The
exploits of the submarine give a flat knock-out to Norman Angell's
contention that excitement and romance have now gone out of war.
Have asked that the Maoris may be sent from Malta to join the New
Zealanders at Anzac. I hope and believe that they will do well. Their
white comrades from the Northern Island are very keen to have them.
_19th May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian"._ Compton Mackenzie has come on
board. He is to be attached to the Intelligence. General Gouraud and his
Chief of Staff, Girodon, lunched. I do not know many French Officers,
but Girodon happens to be an old acquaintance. I met him six years ago
on the Austrian manoeuvres. He is a delightful personality; a very
sound soldier and a plucky one also. I reminded him how, in 1906, he had
told me that the Germans would end by binding together all the other
peoples of Europe against the common danger of their dominance. This was
at Teschen on the borderland between Austrian and Prussian Silesia
during the Austrian Manoeuvres. He remembered the occasion and the
remark. Well, he has proved a true prophet!
A cable from K. in answer to mine giving two more Army Corps as my
minimum unless some neutral or Allied Power is going to help us against
the Turks. I knew he would be greatly upset:--
"(4726, cipher).
"Private and personal. With reference to your telegram No. M.F. 234, I
am quite certain that you fully realize what a serious disappointment it
has been to me to discover that my preconceived views as to the conquest
of positions necessary to dominate the forts on the Straits, with naval
artillery to support our troops on land, and with the active help of
naval bombardment, were miscalculated.
"A serious situation is created by the present check, and the calls for
large reinforcements and an additional amount of ammunition that we can
ill spare from France.
"From the stand-point of an early solution of our difficulties, your
views, as stated, are not encouraging. The question whether we can long
support two fields of operation draining on our resources requires
grave consideration. I know that I can rely upon you to do your utmost
to bring the present unfortunate state of affairs in the Dardanelles to
as early a conclusion as possible, so that any consideration of a
withdrawal, with all its dangers in the East, may be prevented from
entering the field of possible solutions.
"When all the above is taken into consideration, I am somewhat surprised
to see that the 4,500 which Maxwell can send you are apparently not
required by you. With the aid of these I had hoped that you would have
been in a position to press forward.
"The Lowland Division is leaving for you."
This is a queer cable. Seems as if K. was beginning to come up against
those political forces which have ever been a British Commander's bane.
The words in which he begs me to try and prevent "a withdrawal with all
its dangers in the East ... from entering the field of possible
solutions," sounds uncommonly like a cry for help. He means that I
should help him by remembering, and by making smaller calls upon him.
But the only way I can _really_ help him is by winning a battle: to
pretend I could win that battle without drafts, munitions and the Army
Corps asked for would be a very short-lived bluff both for him and for
me. We have had it from other sources that this strange notion of
running away from the Turk, after singeing his beard, has arisen in
London and in France. So now that the murder has peeped out, I am glad
to know where we are and to feel that K. stands solid and sound behind
us. He need have no fear; all that man can do I will do by pressing on
here and by asking for not one man or round more than is absolutely
essential for the job.
As to that passage about the 4,500 Australians, a refusal of Australians
would indeed be good cause for surprise--only--it has never taken place,
and never will take place. I can only surmise that my request made to
Maxwell that these 4,500 men should come to me as drafts for my skeleton
units, instead of as a raw brigade, has twisted itself, going down some
office corridor, into a story that I don't want the men! K. tells me
Egypt is mine and the fatness thereof; yet, no sooner do I make the most
modest suggestion concerning anything or anyone Egyptian than K. is got
at and I find he is the Barmecide and I Schac'abac. "How do you like
your lentil soup?" says K. "Excellently well," say I, "but devil a drop
is in the plate!" I have got to enter into the joke; that's the long and
the short of it. But it is being pushed just a trifle too far when I am
told I _apparently do not require_ 4,500 Australians!
The whole of K.'s cable calls for close thinking. How to try and help
him to pump courage into faint-hearted fellows? How to do so without
toning down my demands for reinforcements?--for evidently these demands
are what are making them shake in their shoes. Here is my draft for an
answer: I can't change my estimate: it was the least I could safely ask
for: but I can make it clear I do not want to ask for more than he can
give:--
"(M.F. 243).
"With reference to your No. 4726, cipher. Private and personal. You need
not be despondent at anything in the situation. Remember that you asked
me to answer on the assumption that you had adequate forces at your
disposal, and I did so.
"Maxwell must have misinformed you. I want the Australian reinforcements
to fill existing cadres. Maxwell, possibly not to disappoint senior
officers, has sent them as weak brigades, which complicates command and
organization exceedingly.
"We gain ground surely if slowly every day, and now at 11 p.m. the
French and Naval Divisions are fighting their way forward."
Tidings of great joy from Anzac. The whole of the enemy's
freshly-arrived contingent have made a grand assault and have been
shattered in the attempt. Samson dropped bombs on them as they were
standing on the shore after their disembarkation. Next, they were moved
up into the fight where a tremendous fire action was in progress. Last,
they stormed forward in the densest masses yet seen on the Peninsula.
Then, they were mown down and driven back headlong. So they have had a
dreadnought reception. This has not been a local trench attack but a
real battle and a fiery one. I have lost no time in cabling the glorious
news to K. The cloud of these coming enemy reinforcements has cast its
shadow over us for awhile and now the sun shines again.
_20th May, 1919. H.M.T. "Arcadian."_ Aubrey Herbert saw me before
dinner. He brings a message from Birdie to say that there has been some
sort of parley with the enemy who wish to fix up an armistice for the
burial of their dead. Herbert is keen on meeting the Turks half way and
I am quite with him, _provided_ Birdie clearly understands that no Corps
Commander can fix up an armistice off his own bat, and _provided_ it is
clear we do not ask for the armistice but grant it to them--the
suppliants. Herbert brings amazing fine detail about the night and day
battle on the high ridges. Birdie has fairly taken the fighting edge off
Liman von Sanders' two new Divisions: he has knocked them to bits. A few
more shells and they would have been swept off the face of the earth. As
it is we have slaughtered a multitude. Since the 18th we are down to two
rounds per gun per diem, but the Turks who have been short of stuff
since the 8th instant are now once more well found. Admiral Thursby
tells me he himself counted 240 shells falling on one of Birdwood's
trenches in the space of ten minutes. I asked him if that amounted to
one shell per yard and he said the whole length of the trench was less
than 100 yards. On the 18th fifty heavy shells, including 12-inch and
14-inch, dropped out of the blue vault of heaven on to the Anzacs.
Everyone sorry to say good-bye to Thursby who goes to Italy.
Rumours that Winston is leaving the Admiralty. This would be an awful
blow to us out here, would be a sign that Providence had some grudge
against the Dardanelles. Private feelings do not count in war, but alas,
how grievous is this set-back to one who has it in him to revive the
part of Pitt, had he but Pitt's place. Haldane, too. Are the benefits of
his organization of our army to be discounted because they had a German
origin? _Fas est et ab hoste doceri_. Half the guns on the Peninsula
would have been scrap-iron had it not been for Haldane! But if this
turns out true about Winston, there will be a colder spirit (let them
appoint whom they will) at the back of our battleships here.
_21st May, 1915. H.M.T. "Arcadian." Imbros._ De Robeck came on board
with Lieutenant-Commander Boyle of E. 4 fame. I was proud indeed to meet
the young and modest hero. He gets the V.C.; his other two officers the
D.S.O.; his crew the D.C.M.
Also he brought with him the Reuter giving us the Cabinet changes and
the resignations of Fisher and Winston and this, in its interest, has
eclipsed even V.C.s for the moment. De Robeck reminded me that Lord K.'s
cable (begging me to help him to combat any idea of withdrawal) must
have been written that very day. A significant straw disclosing the
veering of the winds of high politics! Evidently K. felt ill at ease;
evidently he must now be sitting at a round table surrounded by masked
figures. Have just finished writing him to sympathize; to say he is not
to worry about me as "I know that as long as you remain at the War
Office no one will be allowed to harm us out here." Nor could they if he
were the K. of old; the K. who downed Milner and Chamberlain by making a
peace by agreement with the Boers and then swallowed a Viceroy and his
Military Member of Council as an appetiser to his more serious digest of
India. But is he? Where are the instruments?--gone to France or gone to
glory. Callwell is the exception.
I would give a great deal for one good talk with K.--I would indeed. But
this is not France. Time and space forbid my quitting the helm and so I
must try and induce the mountain to come to Mahomet. My letter goes on
to say, "Could you not take a run out here and see us? If once you
realize with your own eyes what the troops are doing I would never need
to praise them again. Travelling in the _Phaeton_ you would be here in
three days; you would see some wonderful things and the men would be
tremendously bucked up. The spirit of all ranks rises above trials and
losses and is confident of the present and cheery about the future."
Quite apart from any high politics, or from my coming to a fresh, clear,
close understanding with K. on subjects neither of us understood when
last we spoke together, I wish, on the grounds of ordinary tactics, he
could make up his mind to come out. The man who has _seen_ gains
self-confidence and the prestige of his subject when he encounters
others who have only _heard_ and _read_. K. might snap his fingers at
the new hands in the Cabinet once he had been out and got the real
Gallipoli at their tips.
I can't keep my thoughts from dwelling on the fate of Winston. How will
he feel now he realizes he is shorn of his direct power to help us
through these dark and dreadful Straits? Since I started nothing has
handicapped me more than the embargo which a double loyalty to K. and to
de Robeck has imposed upon my communications to Winston. What a tragedy
that his nerve and military vision have been side-tracked: his eclipse
projects a black shadow over the Dardanelles.
Very likely the next great war will have begun before we realize that
the three days' delay in the fall of Antwerp saved Calais. No more
brilliant effort of unaided genius in history than that recorded in the
scene when Winston burst into the Council Chamber and bucked up the
Burgomeisters to hold on a little bit longer. Any comfort our people may
enjoy from being out of cannon shot of the Germans--they owe it to the
imagination, bluff and persuasiveness of Winston and to this gallant
Naval Division now destined to be starved to death!
Sent my first despatch home to-day by King's Messenger. Never has story
been penned amidst so infernal a racket.