BOMBS AND JOURNALISTS
Our beautiful East Lancs. Division is in a very bad way. One more month
of neglect and it will be ruined: if quickly filled up with fresh drafts
it will be better than ever. Have cabled:--
"(M.F.A. 871). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to War Office. The
following is the shortage of officers and rank and file in each Brigade
of the XLIInd East Lancashire Division including the reinforcements
reported as arriving:--
125th Brigade 50 Officers, 1,852 rank and file.
126th Brigade 31 Officers, 1,714 rank and file.
127th Brigade 50 Officers, 2,297 rank and file.
"A stage of wastage has now been reached in this Division, especially in
the 127th Manchester Brigade, when filling up with drafts will make it
as good or better than ever. If, however, they have to go on fighting in
their present condition and suffer further losses, the remnants will not
offer sufficiently wide foundation for reconstituting cadres.
"Lord Kitchener might also like to know this, that a satisfactory
proportion of the officers recently sent out to fill casualties are
shaping very well indeed."
An amalgam of veterans and fresh keen recruits, cemented by a common
county feeling as well as by war tradition, makes the best fighting
formation in the world. The veterans give experience and
steadiness;--when the battle is joined the old hands feel bound to make
good their camp-fire boastings to the recruits. The recruits bring
freshness and the spirit of competition;--they are determined to show
that they are as brave as the old fighters. But, if the East Lancs. go
on dwindling, the cadre will not retain strength enough to absorb and
shape the recruits who will, we must suppose, some day be poured into
it. A perishing formation loses moral force in more rapid progression
than the mere loss of members would seem to warrant. When a battalion
which entered upon a campaign a thousand strong,--all keen and
hopeful,--gets down to five hundred, comrades begin to look round at one
another and wonder if any will be left. When it falls to three hundred,
or less, the unit, in my experience, is better drawn out of the line.
The bravest men lose heart when, on parade, they see with their own eyes
that their Company--the finest Company in the Army--has become a
platoon,--and the famous battalion a Company. A mould for shaping young
enthusiasms into heroisms has been scrapped and it takes a desperate
long time to recreate it.
I want to be sure K. himself takes notice and that is why I refer to him
at the tail end of the cable. We have also cabled saying that the idea
of sending so many rounds per gun per day was excellent, but that "we
have received no notice of any despatch later than the S.S. _Arabian_,
which consignment" (whenever it might arrive?) "was only due to last
until the day before yesterday"! So this is what our famous agreement to
have munitions on the scale deemed necessary by Joffre and French pans
out at in practice. Two-fifths of their amount and that not delivered!
Dined with the Admiral on board the _Triad_. A glorious dinner. The
sailormen have a real pull over us soldiers in all matters of messing.
Linen, plate, glass, bread, meat, wine; of the best, are on the spot,
always: even after the enemy is sighted, if they happen to feel a sense
of emptiness they have only to go to the cold sideboard.
Coming back found mess tent brilliantly lit up and my staff entertaining
their friends. So I put on my life-saving waistcoat and blew it out;
clapped my new gas-mask on my head and entered. They were really
startled, thinking the devil had come for them before their time.
Just got a telegram saying that M. Venezelos has gained a big majority
in the Greek Election. Also, that the King of Greece is dying, and that,
therefore, the Greek Army can't join us until he has come round or gone
under.
_18th June, 1915. Imbros._ Went over to Kephalos Camp to inspect
Rochdale's 127th (Manchester) Brigade. The Howe Battalion of the 2nd
Naval Brigade were there (Lieutenant-Colonel Collins), also, the 3rd
Field Ambulance R.N.D. All these were enjoying an easy out of the
trenches and, though only at about half strength, had already quite
forgotten the tragic struggles they had passed through. In fattest peace
times, I never saw a keener, happier looking lot. I drew courage from
the ranks. Surely these are the faces of men turned to victory!
Some twenty unattached officers fresh from England were there: a likely
looking lot. One of the brightest a Socialist M.P.
The inspection took me all forenoon so I had to sweat double shifts
after lunch. Hunter-Weston came over from Helles at 7.15 p.m. and we
dined off crayfish. He was in great form.
The War Office can get no more bombs for our Japanese trench mortars! A
catastrophe this! Putting the French on one side, we here, in this great
force, possess only half a dozen good trench mortars--the Japanese.
These six are worth their weight in gold to Anzac. Often those fellows
have said to me that if they had twenty-five of them, with lots of
bombs, they could render the Turkish trenches untenable. Twice, whilst
their six precious mortars have been firing, I have stood for half an
hour with Birdie, watching and drinking in encouragement. About one bomb
a minute was the rate of fire and as it buzzed over our own trenches
like a monstrous humming bird all the naked Anzacs laughed. Then, _such_
an explosion and a sort of long drawn out ei-ei-ei-ei cry of horror from
the Turks. It was fine,--a real corpse-reviving performance and now the
W.O. have let the stock run out, because some ass has forgotten to order
them in advance. Have cabled a very elementary question: "Could not the
Japanese bombs be copied in England?"
Being the Centenary of Waterloo, the thoughts and converse of
Hunter-Weston and myself turned naturally towards the lives of the
heroes of a hundred years ago whose monument had given us our education,
and from that topic, equally naturally, to the boys of the coming
generation. Then wrote out greetings to be sent by wire on my own behalf
and on behalf of all Wellingtonians serving under my command here: this
to the accompaniment of unusually heavy shell fire on the Peninsula.
_Later._--Have just heard that after a heavy bombardment the Turks made
an attack and that fighting is going on now.
_19th June, 1915. Imbros._ The Turks expended last night some 500 H.E.
shells; 250 heavy stuff from Asia and some thousands of shrapnel. They
then attacked; we counter-attacked and there was some confused
in-and-out Infantry fighting. We hear that the South Wales Borderers,
the Worcesters, the 5th Royal Scots and the Naval Division all won
distinction. Wiring home I say, "If Lord Kitchener could tell the Lord
Provost of Edinburgh how well the 5th Bn. Royal Scots have done, the
whole of this force would be pleased." The Turks have left 1,000 dead
behind them. Prisoners say they thought so much high explosive would
knock a hole in our line: the bombardment was all concentrated on the
South Wales Borderers' trench.
Writing most of the day. Lord K. has asked the French Government to send
out extra quantities of H.E. shell to their force here; also, he has
begged them to order Gouraud to lend me his guns. In so far as the
French may get more H.E. this is A.1. But if K. thinks the British will
_directly_ benefit--I fear he is out of his reckoning: it would be fatal
to my relations with Gouraud, now so happy, were he even to suspect that
I had any sort of lien on his guns. Unless I want to stir up jealous
feelings, now entirely quiescent, I cannot use this cable as a lever to
get French guns across into our area. Gouraud's plans for his big attack
are now quite complete. A million pities we cannot attack
simultaneously. That we should attack one week and the French another
week is rotten tactically; but, practically, we have no option. We
British want to go in side by side with the French--are burning to do
so--but we cannot think of it until we can borrow shell from Gouraud;
and, naturally, he wants every round he has for his own great push on
the 21st. Walked down in the evening to see what progress was being made
with the new pier. Colonel Skeen, Birdwood's Chief of Staff, dined and
seems clever, as well as a very pleasant fellow.
_20th June, 1915. Imbros._ Rose early. Did a lot of business. The King's
Messenger's bag closed at 8 a.m. Told K. about the arrival of fresh
Turkish troops and our fighting on the 18th. The trenches remain as
before, but the Turks, having failed, are worse off.
I have also written him about war correspondents. He had doubted whether
my experiences would encourage me to increase the number to two or
three. But, after trial, I prefer that the public should have a
multitude of councillors. "When a single individual," I say, "has the
whole of the London Press at his back he becomes an unduly important
personage. When, in addition to this, it so happens, that he is inclined
to see the black side of every proposition, then it becomes difficult to
prevent him from encouraging the enemy, and from discouraging all our
own people, as well as the Balkan States. If I have several others to
counterbalance, then I do not care so much."
Fired off a second barrel through Fitz from whom I have just heard that
my Despatch cannot be published as it stands but must be bowdlerized
first, all the names of battalions being cut out. Instead of saying,
"The landing at 'W' had been entrusted to the 1st Bn. Lancashire
Fusiliers (Major Bishop) and it was to the complete lack of the sense of
danger or of fear of this daring battalion that we owed our astonishing
success," I am to say, "The landing, etc., had been entrusted to a
certain battalion."
The whole of this press correspondence; press censorship; despatch
writing and operations cables hang together and will end by hanging the
Government.
My operations cables are written primarily for K., it is true, but they
are meant also to let our own people know what their brothers and sons
are up against and how they are bearing up under unheard of trials.
There is not a word in those cables which would help or encourage the
enemy. I am best judge of that and I see to it myself.
What is the result of my efforts to throw light upon our proceedings? A
War Office extinguisher from under which only a few evil-smelling
phrases escape. As I say to Fitz:--
"You seem to see nothing beyond the mischief that may happen if the
enemy gets to know too much about us; you do not see that this danger
can be kept within bounds and is of small consequence when compared with
the keenness or dullness of our own Nation."
The news that the War Office were going to send us no more Japanese
bombs spread so great a consternation at Anzac that I have followed up
my first remonstrance with a second and a stronger cable:--
"(No. M.F. 348). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to War Office. Your No.
5272, A.2.[21] I particularly request that you may reconsider your
proposal not to order more Japanese bombs. These bombs are most
effective and in high favour with our troops whose locally-made weapons,
on which they have frequently to rely, are far inferior to the bombs
used by the Turks. Our great difficulty in holding captured trenches is
that the Turks always counter-attack with a large number of powerful
bombs. Apparently their supply of these is limitless. Unless the delay
in arrival is likely to extend over several months, therefore, I would
suggest that a large order be sent to Japan. We cannot have too many of
these weapons, and this should not cancel my No. M.F.Q.T. 1321, which
should be treated as additional."
Drafted also a long cable discussing a diversion on the Asiatic shore of
the Dardanelles. So some work had been done by the time we left camp at
9.15 a.m., and got on board the _Triad_. After a jolly sail reached
Mudros at 2 p.m., landing on the Australian pier at 3 p.m. Mudros is a
dusty hole; _ein trauriges Nest_, as our German friends would say.
Worked like a nigger going right through Nos. 15 and 16 Stationary
Hospitals. Colonel Maher, P.M.O., came round, also Colonel Jones,
R.A.M.C., and Captain Stanley, R.A.M.C. Talked with hundreds of men:
these are the true philosophers.
_21st June, 1915. Mudros._ Went at it again and overhauled No. 2
Stationary Hospital under Lieutenant-Colonel White, as well as No. 1
Stationary Hospital commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Bryant. The doctors
praised me for inventing something new to say to each man. But all the
time in my mind was the thought of Gouraud. I have wanted him to do it
absolutely on his own, and I could not emphasize this better than by
coming right away to Mudros. Back to the _Triad_ by 1 p.m. No news.
Weighed anchor at once, steaming for Imbros, where we cast anchor at
about 6 p.m. Freddie Maitland has arrived here, like a breath of air
from home, to be once more my A.D.C.; his features wreathed in the
well-known, friendly smile. The French duly attacked at dawn and the 2nd
Division have carried a series of redoubts and trenches. The 1st
Division did equally well but have been driven back again by
counter-attacks. Fighting is still going on.
While I have been away Braithwaite has cabled home in my name asking
which of the new Divisions is the best, as we shall have to use them
before we can get to know them.
_22nd June, 1915. Imbros._ An anxious night. Gouraud has done
splendidly; so have his troops. This has been a serious defeat for the
Turks; a real bad defeat, showing, as it does, that given a modicum of
ammunition we can seize the strongest entrenchments of the enemy and
stick to them.
"(No. M.F. 357). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to Secretary of State for
War. After 24 hours' heavy and continuous fighting a substantial
success has been achieved. As already reported, the battle of 4th-5th
June resulted in a good advance of my centre to which neither my right
nor my left were able to conform, the reason being that the Turkish
positions in front of the flanks are naturally strong and exceedingly
well fortified. At 4.30 a.m. yesterday, General Gouraud began an attack
upon the line of formidable works which run along the Kereves Dere. By
noon the second French Division had stormed and captured all the Turkish
first and second line trenches opposite their front, including the
famous Haricot Redoubt, with its subsidiary maze of entanglements and
communication trenches. On their right, the first French Division, after
fierce fighting, also took the Turkish trenches opposite their front,
but were counter-attacked so heavily that they were forced to fall back.
Again, this Division attacked, again it stormed the position, and again
it was driven out. General Gouraud then, at 2.55 p.m., issued the
following order:"
'From Colonel Viont's report it is evident that the preparation for the
attack at 2.15 p.m. was not sufficient.
'It is indispensable that the Turkish first line of trenches in front of
you should be taken, otherwise the gains of the 2nd Division may be
rendered useless. You have five hours of daylight, take your time, let
me know your orders and time fixed for preparation, and arrange for
Infantry assault to be simultaneous after preparation.'
"As a result of this order, the bombardment of the Turkish left was
resumed, the British guns and howitzers lending their aid to the French
Artillery as in the previous attacks. At about 6 p.m., a fine attack was
launched, 600 yards of Turkish first line trenches were taken, and
despite heavy counter-attacks during the night, especially at 3.20 a.m.,
all captured positions are still in our hands. Am afraid casualties are
considerable, but details are lacking. The enemy lost very heavily. One
Turkish battalion coming up to reinforce, was spotted by an aeroplane,
and was practically wiped out by the seventy-fives before they could
scatter.
"Type of fighting did not lend itself to taking prisoners, and only some
50, including one officer, are in our hands. The elan and contempt of
danger shown by the young French drafts of the last contingent,
averaging, perhaps, 20 years of age, was much admired by all. During the
fighting, the French battleship _St. Louis_ did excellent service
against the Asiatic batteries. All here especially regret that Colonel
Girodon, one of the best staff officers existing, has been severely
wounded whilst temporarily commanding a brigade. Colonel Nogués, also an
officer of conspicuous courage, already twice wounded, at Kum Kale, has
again been badly hit."
Girodon is one in ten thousand; serious, brave and far sighted. The
bullet went through his lung. We are said to have suffered nearly 3,000
casualties.
They say that the uproar of battle was tremendous, especially between
midnight and 4 a.m. Some of our newly arrived troops stood to their arms
all night thinking the end of the world had come.
At 6 p.m. de Robeck, Keyes, Ormsby Johnson and Godfrey came over from
the flagship to see me.
Have got an answer about the Japanese trench mortars and bombs. In two
months' time a thousand bombs will be ready at the Japanese Arsenal, and
five hundred the following month. The trench mortars--bomb guns they
call them--will be ready in Japan in two and a half months' time. Two
and a half months, plus half a month for delay, plus another month for
sea transit, makes four months! There are some things speak for
themselves. Blood, they say, cries out to Heaven. Well, let it cry now.
Over three months ago I asked--_my first request_--for these primitive
engines and as for the bombs, had Birmingham been put to it, Birmingham
could have turned them out as quick as shelling peas.
Am doing what I can to fend for myself. This Dardanelles war is a war,
if ever there was one, of the ingenuity and improvised efforts of man
against nature plus machinery. We are in the desert and have to begin
very often at the beginning of things. The Navy _now_ assure me that
their Dockyard Superintendent at Malta could make us a fine lot of hand
grenades in his workshops if Lord Methuen will give him the order.
So I have directed a full technical specification of the Turkish hand
grenades being used against us with effects so terrible, to be sent on
to Methuen telling him it is simple, effective, that I hope he can make
them and will be glad to take all he can turn out.
_23rd June, 1915. Imbros._ Another day in camp. De Robeck and Keyes came
over from the _Triad_ to unravel knotty points.
Am enraged to recognize in Reuter one of my own cables which has been
garbled in Egypt. The press censorship is a negative evil in London; in
Cairo there is no doubt it is positive. After following my wording
pretty closely, a phrase has been dovetailed in to say that the Turks
have day and night to submit to the capture of trenches. These cables
are repeated to London and when they get back here what will my own men
think me? If, as most of us profess to believe, it is a mistake to tell
lies, what a specially fatal description of falsehood to issue
short-dated bulletins of victory with only one month to run. I have
fired off a remonstrance as follows:--
"(No M.F. 359). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to War Office. A Reuter
telegram dated London, 16th June, has just been brought to my notice in
which it is stated that the Press Bureau issues despatch in which the
following sentence occurs: 'Day and night they (the Turks) have to
submit to capture of trenches.' This information is incorrect, and as
far as we are aware, has not been sent from here. This false news puts
me in a false position with my troops, who know it to be untrue, and I
should be glad if you would trace whence it emanates.
"Repeated to General Officer Commanding, Egypt."
_24th June, 1915. Imbros._ Three days ago we asked the War Office to let
us know the merits of the three new Divisions. The War Office replied
placing them in the order XIth; XIIth; Xth, and reminding me that the
personality of the Commander would be the chief factor for deciding
which were to be employed in any particular operation. K. now
supplements this by a cable in which he sizes up the Commanders.
Hammersley gets a good _chit_ but the phrase, "he will have to be
watched to see that the strain of trench warfare is not too much for
him" is ominous. I knew him in October, '99, and thought him a fine
soldier. Mahon, "without being methodical," is praised. Shaw gets a
moderate eulogy, but we out here are glad to have him for we know him.
On these two War Office cables Hammersley and the 11th Division should
be for it.
After clearing my table, embarked with Braithwaite and Mitchell aboard
the _Basilisk_ (Lieutenant Fallowfield) and made her stand in as close
as we dared at Suvla Bay and the coast to the North of it. We have kept
a destroyer on patrol along that line, and we were careful to follow the
usual track and time, so as to rouse no suspicions.
To spy out the land with a naval telescope over a mile of sea means
taking a lot on trust as we learned to our cost on April 25th. We can't
even be sure if the Salt Lake _is_ a lake, or whether the glister we see
there is just dry sand. We shall have to pretend to do some gun
practice, and drop a shell on to its surface to find out. No sign of
life anywhere, not even a trickle of smoke. The whole of the Suvla Bay
area looks peaceful and deserted. God grant that it may remain so until
we come along and make it the other thing.
On my return the Admiral came to hear what I thought about it all. Our
plan is bold, but there never was a state of affairs less suited to half
and half, keep-in-the-middle-of-the-road tactics than that with which
the Empire is faced to-day. If we get through here, now, the war will,
must be, over next year. My Manchurian Campaign and two Russian
Manoeuvres have taught me that, from Grand Duke to Moujiks, our Allies
need just that precise spice of initiative which we, only we in the
world, can lend them. Advice, cash, munitions aren't enough; our
palpable presence is the point. The arrival of Birdwood, Hunter-Weston
and Gouraud at Odessa would electrify the whole of the Russian Army.
As to the plan, I have had the G.S. working hard upon it for over a
fortnight (ever since the Cabinet decided to support us). Secrecy is so
ultra-vital that we are bound to keep the thing within a tiny circle. I
am not the originator. Though I have entirely fathered it, the idea was
born at Anzac. We have not yet got down to precise dates, units or
commanders but, in those matters, the two cables already entered this
morning should help. The plan is based upon Birdwood's confidence that,
if only he can be strengthened by another Division, he can seize and
hold the high crest line which dominates his own left, and in my own
concurrence in that confidence. Sari Bair is the "keep" to the Narrows;
Chunuk Bair and Hill 305 are its keys: i.e., from those points the
Turkish trenches opposite Birdwood can be enfiladed: the land _and_ sea
communications of the enemy holding Maidos, Kilid Bahr and Krithia can
be seen and shelled and, in fact, any strong force of Turks guarding the
European side of the Narrows can then be starved out, whilst a weak
force will not long resist Gouraud and Hunter-Weston. As to our tactical
scheme for producing these strategical results, it is simple in outline
though infernally complicated in its amphibious and supply aspects. The
French and British at Helles will attack so as to draw the attention of
the Turks southwards. To add to this effect, we are thinking of asking
the Anzacs to exert a preliminary pressure on the Gaba Tepe alarum to
the southwards. We shall then give Birdwood what he wants, an extra
division, and it will be a problem how to do so without letting the
enemy smell a rat. Birdwood's Intelligence are certain that no trenches
have been dug by the enemy along the high ridge from Chunuk Bair to Hill
305. He is sure that with one more Division under his direct command,
plus the help of a push from Helles to ease his southern flank, he can
make good these dominating heights.
[Illustration: THE NARROWS FROM CHUNUK BAIR]
_But_,--here comes the second half of the plan: the balance of the
reinforcements from home are also to be thrown into the scale so as at
the same time to give further support to Birdwood on his _northern_
flank and to occupy a good harbour (Suvla Bay) whence we can run a light
railway line and more effectively feed the troops holding Sari Bair than
they could be fed from the bad, cramped beaches of Anzac Cove. This will
be the more necessary as the process of starving out the Turks to the
south must take time. Suvla Bay should be an easy base to seize as it is
weakly held and unentrenched whilst, tactically, any troops landed there
will, by a very short advance, be able to make Birdwood's mind easy
about his left. Altogether, the plan seems to me simple in outline, and
sound in principle. The ground between Anzac and the Sari Bair crestline
is worse than the Khyber Pass but both Birdwood and Godley say that
their troops can tackle it. There are one or two in the know who think
me "venturesome" but, after all, is not "nothing venture nothing win" an
unanswerable retort?
De Robeck is excited over some new anti-submarine nets. They are so
strong and he can run them out so swiftly that they open, he seems to
think, new possibilities of making landings,--not on open coasts like
the North of the Aegean but at places like Yukeri Bay, where the nets
could be spread from the North and South ends of Tenedos to shoals
connecting with Asia so as to make a torpedo proof basin for transports.
The Navy, in fact, suddenly seem rather bitten with the idea of landing
opposite Tenedos. But whereas, this very afternoon, our own eyes
confirmed the aeroplane reports that Suvla Bay is unentrenched, weakly
held and quiescent, only yesterday a division of the enemy were reputed
to be busy along the whole of the coastline to the South of Besika Bay.
I have raised a hornet's nest by my objection to faked cables; but I
will not have it done. They may suppress but they shall not invent.
"(No. M.F. 366). From General Sir Ian Hamilton to War Office. Your No.
12431. I do not object to General Officer Commanding, Egypt, publishing
any telegram I send him, as I write them for that purpose. But I do
object to the addition of news which is untrue, and which can surely be
seen through by any reading public. If we can take trenches at our will,
why are we still on this side of Achi Baba?
"In compliance with Lord Kitchener's instructions I send a telegram to
the Secretary of State for War and repeat it to Egypt; also to Australia
and New Zealand if it affect these Dominions. Please see your No.
10,475, code, and my No. M.F. 285, instructing me to do this. These
telegrams are practically identical when they leave here, and are
intended to be used as a communique and to be published. Instead of this
I find a mutilated and misleading Cairo telegram reproduced in London
Press in place of the true version I sent to the Secretary of State for
War."
General Paris crossed from Helles to dine and stay the night. After
dinner, Commodore Backhouse came over to make his salaams to his
Divisional Chief.
Gouraud has sent me his reply to Lord K.'s congratulations on his
victory of the 21st. He says,
"_Vous prie exprimer à Lord Kitchener mes respectueux remerciements
nous n'avons, eu qu'à prendre exemple sur les héroïques régiments
anglais qui ont débarqué dans les fils de fer sur la plage de
Seddulbahr_."
_25th June, 1915. Imbros._ At 8 a.m. walked down with Paris to see him
off. Worked till 11 a.m. and then crossed over to "K" Beach where
Backhouse, commanding the 2nd Naval Brigade, met me. Inspected the Hood,
Howe and Anson Battalions into which had been incorporated the
Collingwood and Benbow units--too weak now to carry on as independent
units. The Hood, Howe and Anson are suffering from an acute attack of
indigestion, and Collingwoods and Benbows are sick at having been
swallowed. But I had to do it seeing there is no word of the cruel
losses of the battle of the 4th being made good by the Admiralty. The
Howe, Hood and Anson attacked on our extreme right, next the French.
They did most gloriously--most gloriously! As to the Collingwoods, they
were simply cut to pieces, losing 25 officers out of 28 in a few
minutes. Down at the roots of this unhappiness lie the neglect to give
us our fair share of howitzers and trench mortars--in fact stupidity!
The rank and file all round looked much better for their short rest, and
seemed to like the few halting words of praise I was able to say to
them. Lunched with Backhouse in a delicious garden under a spreading fig
tree; then rode back.
At 5 p.m. Ashmead-Bartlett had an appointment, K. himself took trouble
to send me several cables about him a little time ago. Referring in one
of them to the dangers of letting Jeremiah loose in London, K. said,
"Ashmead-Bartlett has promised verbally to speak to no one but his
Editor, who can be trusted." Verbally, or in writing, my astonishment at
K.'s confidence can only find expression in verse:--
"Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises;"
He, Ashmead-Bartlett, came to-day to beg me to deliver him out of the
hands of the Censor. He wants certain changes made and I have agreed.
Next, he fully explained to me the importance of the Bulair Lines and
urged me to throw the new Divisions against them. He seems to think he
is mooting to me a spick and span new idea--that he has invented
something. Finally, he suggests ten shillings and a free pardon be
offered to every Turk who deserts to our lines with his rifle and kit:
he believes we should thus get rid of the whole of the enemy army very
quickly.
This makes one wonder what would Ashmead-Bartlett himself do if he were
offered ten shillings and a good supper by a Mahommedan when he was
feeling a bit hungry and hard up amongst the Christians. Anyway, there
is no type of soldier man fighting in the war who is more faithful to
his salt than the Osmanli Turk. Were we to offer fifty pounds per head,
instead of ten shillings, the bid would rebound in shame upon ourselves.
Colonel Sir Mark Sykes was my next visitor. He is fulfilling the promise
of his 'teens when he was the shining light of the Militia; was as keen
a Galloper as I have had on a list which includes Winston and F.E., and,
generally, gained much glory, martial, equestrian, histrionic,
terpsichorean at our Militia Training Camp on Salisbury Plain in '99.
Now he has mysteriously made himself (heaven knows how) into our premier
authority on the Middle East and is travelling on some ultra-mysterious
mission, very likely, _en passant_, as a critic of our doings: never
mind, he is thrice welcome as a large-hearted and generous person.
Dined with de Robeck on board the _Triad_. He is _most_ hospitable and
kind. I have not here the wherewithal to give back cutlet for cutlet,
worse luck.
_26th June, 1915._ Worked till past 11 o'clock, then started
for Anzac with Braithwaite per destroyer _Pincher_ (Lieutenant-Commander
Wyld). After going a short way was shifted to the _Mosquito_
(Lieutenant-Commander Clarke). We had biscuits in our pockets, but the
hospitable Navy stood us lunch.
When the Turks saw a destroyer come bustling up at an unusual hour they
said to themselves, "fee faw fum!" and began to raise pillars of water
here and there over the surface of the cove. As we got within a few
yards of the pier a shell hit it, knocking off some splinters. I jumped
on to it--had to--then jumped off it nippier still and, turning to the
right, began to walk towards Birdie's dugout. As I did so a big fellow
pitched plunk into the soft shingle between land and water about five or
six yards behind me and five or six yards in front of Freddie. The slush
fairly smothered or blanketed the shell but I was wetted through and was
stung up properly with small gravel. The hardened devils of Anzacs, who
had taken cover betwixt the shell-proofs built of piles of stores,
roared with laughter. Very funny--to look at!
As the old Turks kept plugging it in fairly hot, I sat quiet in
Birdwood's dugout for a quarter of an hour. Then they calmed down and we
went the rounds of the right trenches. In those held by the Light Horse
Brigade under Colonel G. de L. Ryrie, encountered Lieutenant Elliot,
last seen a year ago at Duntroon.
Next, met Colonel Sinclair Maclagan commanding 3rd (Australian) Infantry
Brigade. After that saw the lines of Colonel Smith's Brigade, where
Major Browne, R.A., showed me a fearful sort of bomb he had just
patented.
At last, rather tired by my long day, made my way back, stopping at
Birdie's dugout en route. Boarded the _Mosquito_; sailed for and reached
camp without further adventure. General Douglas of the East Lancs
Division is here. He has dined and is staying the night. A melancholy
man before whose eyes stands constantly the tragic melting away without
replacement of the most beautiful of the Divisions of Northern England.
_27th June, 1915. Imbros._ Blazing hot; wound up my mail letters; fought
files, flies and irritability; tackled a lot of stuff from Q.M.G. and
A.G.; won a clear table by tea time. In the evening hung about waiting
for de Robeck who had signalled over to say he wanted to talk business.
At the last he couldn't come.
The sequel to the letter telling me I'd have to cut the names of
battalions out of my Despatch has come in the shape of a War Office
cable telling me that, if I agree, it is proposed "to have the despatch
reviewed and a slightly different version prepared for publication." I
hope my reply to Fitz may arrive in time to prevent too much titivation.
An imaginative War Office (were such a thing imaginable) would try first
of all to rouse public enthusiasm by letting them follow quite closely
the brave doings of their own boys' units whatever these might be. Next,
they would try and use the Press to teach the public that there are
three kinds of war, (_a_) military war, (_b_) economic war and (_c_)
social war. Lastly, they would explain to the Cabinet that this war of
ours is a mixture of (_a_) and (_b_) with more of (_b_) than (_a_) in
it.
How can economic victory be won? (1) by enlisting the sympathy of
America; (2) by taking Constantinople.
The idea that we can hustle the Kaiser back over the Rhine and march on
to Berlin at the double emanates from a school of thought who have
devoted much study to the French Army, not so much to that of the
Germans. But we _can_ (no one denies it) hustle the Turks out of
Constantinople if we will make an effort, big, no doubt, in itself but
not very big compared to that entailed by a few miles' advance in the
West. Let us do that and, forthwith, we enlist economics on our side.
None of these things can be carried through without the help of the
Press. Second only to enthusiasm of our own folk comes the sweetening of
the temper of the neutral. Hard to say at present whether our Censorship
has done most harm in the U.K. or the U.S.A. Before leaving for the
Dardanelles I begged hard for Hare and Frederick Palmer, the Americans,
knowing they would help us with the Yanks just as much as aeroplanes
would help us with the Turks, but I was turned down on the plea that the
London Press would be jealous.
These are the feelings which have prompted my pen to-day. Writing one of
the few great men I know I put the matter like this:--
"From my individual point of view a hideous mistake has been made on the
correspondence side of the whole of this Dardanelles business. Had we
had a dozen good newspaper correspondents here, the vital life-giving
interest of these stupendous proceedings would have been brought right
into the hearths and homes of the humblest people in Britain....
"As for information to the enemy, this is too puerile altogether. The
things these fellows produce are all read and checked by competent
General Staff Officers. To think that it matters to the Turks whether a
certain trench was taken by the 7th Royal Scots or the 3rd Warwicks is
just really like children playing at secrets. The Censors who are by way
of keeping everyone in England in darkness allow extremely accurate
outline panoramas of the Australian position from the back; trenches,
communication tracks, etc., all to scale; a true military sketch, to
appear in the _Illustrated London News_ of 5th June. The wildest
indiscretions in words could not equal this."
Again I say the Press must win. On no subject is there more hypocrisy
amongst big men in England. They pretend they do not care for the Press
and _sub rosa_ they try all they are worth to work it. How well I
remember my Chief of the General Staff coming up to me at a big
conference on Salisbury Plain where I had spent five very useful minutes
explaining the inwardness of things to old Bennett Burleigh, the War
Correspondent. He (the C.G.S.) begged me to see Burleigh privately,
afterwards, as it would "create a bad impression" were I seen by
everyone to be on friendly terms with the old man! He meant it very
kindly: from his point of view he was quite right. I lay no claim to be
more candid than the rest of them: quite the contrary. Only, over that
particular line of country, I am more candid. Whenever anyone
ostentatiously washes his hands of the Press in my hearing I chuckle
over the memory of the administrator who was admonishing me as to the
unsuitability of a public servant having a journalistic acquaintance
when, suddenly, the door opened; the parlour-maid entered and said,
"Lord Northcliffe is on the 'phone."
Have told Lord K. in my letter we have just enough shell for one more
attack. After that, we fold our hands and wait the arrival of the new
troops and the new outfit of ammunition:--not "wait and see" but "wait
and suffer." A month is a desperate long halt to have in a battle. A
month, at least, to let weariness and sickness spread whilst new armies
of enemies replace those whose hearts we have broken,--at a cost of how
many broken hearts, I wonder, in Australasia and England?
This enforced pause in our operations is a desperate bad business: for
to-day there is a feeling in the air--thrilling through the ranks--that
_at last_ the upper hand is ours. Now is the moment to fall on with
might and main,--to press unrelentingly and without break or pause until
we wrest victory from Fortune. Morally, we are confident
but,--materially? Alas, to-morrow, for our last "dart" before
reinforcements arrive a month hence, my shell only runs to a forty
minutes' bombardment of some half a mile of the enemy's trenches. We
simply have not shell wherewith to cover more or keep it up any longer.
A General laying down the law to a Field Marshal is as obnoxious to
military "form" as a vacuum was once supposed to be to the sentiments of
nature. The child, who teaches its grandmother to suck eggs, commits a
venial fault in comparison. So I have had to convey my precepts
insensibly to Milord K.--to convey them in homeopathic doses of parable.
The brilliant French success of the 21st-22nd, I explain to him, was due
to the showers of shell wherewith they deluged the Turkish lines until
their defenders were sitting dazed with their dugouts in ruins about
them. Also, in the same epistle, I have tried to explain Anzac.
In the domain of tactics our landing at Helles speaks for itself. Since
gunpowder was invented nothing finer than the 29th Division has been
achieved. But it will be a long time yet before people grasp that the
landing at Anzac is just as remarkable in the imaginative domain of
strategy. The military student of the future will, I hope and believe,
realize the significance of the stroke whereby we are hourly forcing a
great Empire to commit _hari kiri_ upon these barren, worthless
cliffs--whereby we keep pressing a dagger exactly over the black heart
of the Ottoman Raj. Only skin deep--so far; only through the skin. Yet
already how freely bleeds the wound. Daily the effort to escape this
doom; to push away the threat of that painful point will increase. Even
if we were never to make another yard's advance,--here--in the cove of
Anzac--is the cup into which the life blood of the Caliphat shall be
pressed. And on the whole Gallipoli Peninsula this little cove is the
one and only spot whereon a base could have been established, which is
sheltered (to a bearable extent) from the force of the enemy's fire.
Dead ground; defiladed from inland batteries; deep water right close to
the shore!
Enver dares not leave Anzac alone. We are too near his neck; the
Narrows!! So on this most precarious, God-forsaken spot he must maintain
an Army of his best troops, mostly supplied by sea,--by sea whereon our
submarines swallow 25 per cent. of their drafts, munitions and food,
just as a pike takes down the duckling before the eyes of their mother
on a pond. Hold fast's the word. We have only to keep our grip firm and
fast; Turkey will die of exhaustion trying to do what she can't do;
drive us into the sea!
Braithwaite and Amery dined. Great fun seeing Amery again. _What_
memories of his concealment in the Autocrat's "Special" going to the
Vereeniging Conference; of our efforts to create a strategical training
ground for British troops in South Africa; of our battles against one
another over the great Voluntary Service issue.