THE FIRST BATTLE OF GAZA
Early next morning we started for Deir el Belah, which was to be our
jumping-off place for the attack on Gaza, whither the Turks had now
retreated. It was a beautiful trek. If there were not "roses, roses, all
the way," the green fields and the almond blossom made very acceptable
substitutes. But for the cactus and prickly pear which lined the lanes we
might have been riding leisurely over an English countryside. We saw as
many trees during this nine or ten miles' ride as during the whole of our
time in Egypt. There were few palms. The sycamore, which grows to greater
perfection in Palestine than I have seen elsewhere, was in the majority and
cast a beneficent shade on us. There were limes, too, and a tree which
looked something like a laburnum, together with the almond tree now covered
with its delicately-tinted bloom.
The utter tranquillity of the place made one wonder if the grim business
upon which we were engaged was indeed real, for here there was none of the
dust and bustle of the previous day. The clear freshness of the morning
made us feel glad to be alive, and there was, moreover, no disillusionment
in the shape of dirty mud houses, nor anything to spoil our enjoyment. It
was just Nature at her very best, and in her spring dress she is very
pleasant indeed in Palestine.
As I have said, it was probably by contrast with the desert that this
lovely country appealed so strongly to us. Even the morning pipe had a
different flavour. For a few brief hours we could forget that our ultimate
mission was to kill as many Turks as possible and could plod along on our
horses as though all Time were our own, wanting nothing to our infinite
content. An agreeable aroma hangs over the memory of that day though it was
absolutely uneventful in itself. We arrived at our destination in a state
of peace with all the world, which is a most inappropriate condition to be
in for a soldier--even amateurs like ourselves. However, it was only
temporary. At Belah we learnt something of the order of battle in so far as
it affected ourselves. While the infantry were making a frontal attack on
the positions defending Gaza, we--that is, the mounted divisions--were to
strike out east and north with the double object of holding up Turkish
reinforcements from Beersheba and Hereira (S.E. of Gaza), Huj (E. of Gaza),
and cutting off the retreat of the main body should the town be taken. What
to do should the attack fail we were not informed. Presumably we were to
trust to what Mr. Kipling aptly calls "the standing-luck of the British
Army" to pull us through.
Be that as it may, there was--to anticipate a little--something badly wrong
with the information respecting the forces opposed to us. According to this
we had to beat only the meagre remains of the division that had been so
severely mauled in the recent fighting on the desert, together with a few
thousand infantry and cavalry from the places mentioned above. The
impression most of us received was that the whole affair would be a
"cake-walk." We were to take Gaza _en passant_, as it were, and reach
Jerusalem by Whitsuntide.
"The best laid schemes...."
We started at 3 a.m. the next day, March 26th, while it was yet dark, and
steering east for some four or five miles came to a narrow, steep-sided
riverbed. This was the soon-to-be famous Wadi Ghuzzee. By some
extraordinary oversight, the Turks had neglected either to fortify the wadi
or even to leave outposts there; at any rate the crossing was accomplished
with difficulty but without interference. Arrived on the other side we
halted to wait for the sunrise to dissipate the fog through which we had so
far travelled. So far from lifting, as the dawn approached it grew denser,
until it was impossible to discern any object more than a few yards away.
It was eerie waiting in the clammy atmosphere with the feeling that we were
shut off from the rest of the world by the thick wall of fog. Memories of
Katia and Oghratina sprang unbidden to the mind, and a repetition of those
disastrous affairs seemed not unlikely. We felt with relief the sudden cold
that precedes the dawn, and in a little while it grew lighter. Presently
the sun appeared dimly over the Eastern horizon and we waited hopefully for
the fog to lift. We waited....
At seven o'clock we unhooked the horses from the guns and
ammunition-waggons and let them graze on the herbage.
No sound of battle came to our ears; indeed, so profound was the silence
that enveloped us, we might have been in a tomb. Then, perhaps half an hour
later, the fog suddenly lifted like the drop-scene in a theatre, and we
found ourselves in the middle of a wide undulating plain stretching to the
remote horizon. Then we saw that the stage was set and the actors were
ready. On our left, their approach unnoticed by us in the fog, our infantry
were marching in fours; from away to the south-west, as far as the eye
could see, came three mighty columns of marching men, sunburnt, silent,
inexorable.
They looked immensely efficient, these veterans of Gallipoli, tramping
steadily along in their shirt sleeves--best of all fighting kit--and there
were two divisions of them. Alongside them came another long column of
ambulance-carts drawn by mules, beyond which, again, marched the auxiliary
branch of the medical service, the camels, soft-footed and supercilious,
with the white hoods of the cacolets swaying unevenly as they marched. Then
came the light armoured-car batteries and in the centre the
horse-artillery. Out on the flank the plain was black with the horses of
the mounted divisions, disposed in brigades, and on the right the Imperial
Camel Corps had a roving commission. So the army marched steadily forward
to the assault, a wonderful spectacle. There was this to be said for the
fighting in Palestine: you fought in the open most of the time; with
certain limitations you could see your enemy and he could see you. The
personal element, therefore, played a more important part than when there
was an overwhelming concentration of artillery on one side or the other,
and as a rule battles were won because the victors were both collectively
and individually the better men.
Soon the infantry diverged to the left, and the columns, moving toward the
sea, were presently lost to view beyond the low western hills. We continued
our flanking movement eastward, with cavalry screens thrown forward and the
remainder advancing in beautiful order over the undulating plain. Within a
couple of hours or so we had reached our appointed place, whereupon some of
the cavalry galloped forward to keep in touch with the other mounted
division operating toward the north, the armoured cars disappeared swiftly
on their lawful occasions, and the Imperial Camel Corps went off to attend
to the needs of such Turkish reinforcements as were to be found. We had not
long to wait before an enemy aeroplane arrived and, locating us at once,
dropped a smoke bomb. Hardly had the little puff dispersed when the first
shell arrived with a hideous, screaming whine, and exploded with a
shattering roar on the hillside some hundred and fifty yards in our rear.
It was followed instantly by another which burst a similar distance in
front--a perfect bracket, and we were in the middle of it. It looked any
reasonable odds that the third shell would arrive in the middle of _us_,
for we offered a splendid target: thousands of horses and men in a shallow
saucer-shaped depression the range of which the enemy evidently had to a
yard.
Even the most confirmed optimist could scarcely help feeling that in a few
seconds we were likely to be put out of action--polite euphemism!--before
striking a blow. But the God of battles was with us, for the third shell,
to our utter astonishment, not unmingled with relief, never came! The
reason was soon apparent: a battery of horse-artillery was seen galloping
madly over the stretch of level plain a mile or so in our rear, in the
direction of the Turkish big guns. With beautiful precision they swung into
action and in a few seconds were firing round after round in a determined
effort to put their larger adversary _hors de combat_. Whether the Turkish
gun-positions were known beforehand and this effort part of a pre-arranged
plan I do not know. As we saw it, it looked like a spontaneous and
magnificent act of self-sacrifice.
It was David and Goliath over again, but unfortunately the luck on this
occasion was with the latter. He plastered the battery with his heavy
shells; one of them, bursting near the battery-staff, put almost the entire
party out of action from the concussion alone. There was not a scrap of
cover either for horses or guns, and soon the gallant gunners were forced
to withdraw. They had, however, succeeded in their object--if it were
indeed to create a diversion in our favour--and had in addition completely
destroyed the crew of one enemy gun. With the exception of a parting round
which burst near the field-ambulance on our left we had no further trouble
in this direction. Subsequently we went forward without let or hindrance,
except from enemy aircraft, whose bombs disturbed quite a quantity of
earth.
Meanwhile on our left the infantry were heavily engaged. Their lot was not
an enviable one. The natural defences of Gaza are immensely strong, and
these were in addition strengthened by every conceivable human device. The
town stands in the midst of a chain of sandy ridges, inside which is a
smaller ring, with a wide stretch of open country absolutely devoid of
cover between the two. The extreme niceness of the position lay in the fact
that any one ridge was well within range of most if not all of the
remainder. Without much difficulty, the infantry captured two of these
outer ridges--Mansura and Shalouf--and immediately prepared for the attack
on the central positions. The chief of these was the place to which Samson
carried the gates of Gaza: Ali Muntar--how familiar we were destined to be
with that name!--a great, bleak rock, whose terraced slopes rose far above
the rest and commanded a wide field of fire over the plains of Gaza. It was
defended in its several tiers by machine-guns cunningly placed, concealed
rifle pits, trenches protected by rows of cactus and prickly pear, the
broad leaves of which are almost impervious to rifle-bullets and even
shrapnel, and heavy guns hidden in cavities in the rock itself.
It was, I think, about noon and intensely hot when the infantry began the
attack. From our position on the flank it was, of course, impossible to see
in detail what was going on, or much beyond the actual deployment of the
troops. But the machine-gun fire, which during the morning had reached us
in purring waves of sound, now increased to such awful intensity that the
rattle became a roar incessant and deafening. From the moment the first
waves started to advance across the open country they came under a
devastating fire. They were bespattered with shrapnel from the guns,
enfiladed on three sides by machine-guns whose fire swept them away in
scores, rifle-pits spat death at them, and from the crowded trenches came
a terrible volume of rifle-fire. It seemed impossible that any one could
live to reach the slopes of Ali Muntar; yet these men from Wales and East
Anglia went forward with a steadiness almost past belief, and ultimately,
with ranks sadly thinned, did reach the foot of the hill. From this point
they fought their way inch by inch and drove the desperately resisting
Turks back through their cactus hedges and over each successive terrace
until, late in the afternoon, the summit was won.
The cost was terrible: some battalions had lost three-quarters of their
effectives, many had lost half, and all had suffered very heavily. True, a
very large percentage of the casualties were lightly wounded in arms and
legs; nevertheless, they were out of action and the battle was by no means
won.
Earlier in the afternoon we on the flank had at last got on the move.
Aeroplane reconnaissance showed that large bodies of Turkish infantry and
cavalry were marching swiftly from Beersheba and Hereira, to the assistance
of their comrades in Gaza, and we went forward to delay their advance.
A squadron of Anzacs operating from the north-east fought with such dash
that they found themselves at the outskirts of Gaza itself. They charged an
Austrian battery, slew the gunners and captured two of the guns. Not
content with this, with characteristic impudence they swung the guns round
on to the town at point-blank range! Then they sent a message to the
battery of horse-artillery operating with them to ask for gunners to give
them instruction in the art of gunnery, as they were not doing enough
damage themselves! I cannot say whether the instructors arrived or not, but
the Anzacs clung to their captured guns like leeches and continued to use
them in spite of the furious counter-attacks immediately delivered by the
incensed Turks. Indeed, so uplifted were the Anzacs by their recent
performance that not only did they repel all attempts to regain the guns
but they charged the town and got into the streets, where the bayonet
fighting was of the fiercest and most desperate kind. Here they suffered
very heavy casualties, for machine-guns in numbers were on the flat-topped
roofs and the bullets swept the narrow streets like hail, killing friend
and foe indiscriminately. In spite of this they managed to drive the Turks
out of a portion of the town, and from this they refused to be dislodged,
though the greater part of the men were wounded, some of them severely.
Farther east, meanwhile, another party of Australians were supplying a
little comic relief. Their function originally had been to prevent the
escape of any Turks should the town be captured, but as the refugees failed
to appear, for obvious reasons, the Australians rode forth to inquire into
the matter. A mist of obscurity hangs over their doings until the moment
when they saw before them an open landau--or gharry, as it is termed in
Egypt--with an escort bearing all the trappings of high officialdom,
proceeding at a gentle trot some distance away over the plain. This seemed
to be fair game, so with a wild "Coo-ee" the Light Horse charged down upon
the totally unsuspecting party. The driver of the gharry lost his head and
his seat simultaneously, the vehicle overturned and pinned the unfortunate
occupant underneath, and the escort surrendered hurriedly several times
over. This last was perhaps as well, for the attackers were so weak with
laughter at the sight of a very dignified Turkish general in full regalia
crawling from under the gharry that they were in no condition to put up a
serious fight. It transpired later that the general so ignominiously and
comically made prisoner was a divisional commander who, with all his staff,
was apparently proceeding to his advanced headquarters with no thought of
danger. It was humiliating for him and his entourage but was a highly
important capture for us, in that he was one of the cleverest Turkish
generals.
Another brigade of the Light Horse, under General Royston--"Galloping
Jack"--operating in this area, were fighting desperately hard to drive a
large force of Turks from a ridge, east of Gaza, which they had
unexpectedly occupied and from which they were trying to get in touch with
cavalry coming from Huj. In their successful attempt to defeat this project
the Light Horse had the spirited assistance of the armoured cars whose
utter disregard of danger saved the situation time after time. One group
of half a dozen cars ran into half a division of Turkish reinforcements and
were given up as lost by the brigade. But no! Instead of surrendering
tamely the inspired madmen in the cars ran amok and played a merry game of
follow-my-leader up and down and round and through the ranks of the enemy,
until they had fired off most of their ammunition. Whereupon they made a
final burst and got away almost unscathed--they had less than half a dozen
casualties--leaving some four hundred Turkish killed and wounded on the
field and the remainder probably wondering, like the nigger when the
meteorite hit him, "who frowed dat brick"!
As far as our part of the front was concerned it was a day out for the
armoured cars and the Imperial Camel Corps. The latter were early engaged
with some of those unsuspected reinforcements from Hereira and elsewhere
and suffered terribly heavy casualties in beating off their attempts to get
through. The Turks were overwhelmingly superior in numbers, yet a brigade
was held up for half the day by one company of the "Cameliers"! Another
company formed up like cavalry and actually charged--and took--a position,
the camels taking the hurriedly vacated trenches in their stride, as a
horse leaps a ditch! I should think this charge is almost unique in the
annals of war.
Yet a third company fought on until only one officer and seventy men were
left and few of those were without a wound of some sort. It is not too
much to say that their amazing efforts saved a large number of the mounted
division from destruction, or, at least, capture.
For the greater portion of the day we ourselves had performed the rôle of
spectators. With the exception of the contretemps already mentioned not a
single shot came near us; we occupied an oasis of calm in the midst of a
hell of fire--and looked on. At certain intervals we walked or trotted, and
once we galloped madly for half a mile, expecting at the end of it to hear
the order: "Halt--action front!" It was a false alarm. We halted for two
hours--till about five o'clock, when, judging from the firing, Gaza was
hemmed in on all sides.
We were then in a kind of shallow nullah situated about half-way down a
gently sloping hill. Suddenly, over the top of the hill came a "Signals"
waggon at the gallop laying a line at tremendous speed. The battery was
galvanized into action by a sharp order, and in a few seconds the guns were
unlimbered in a position facing due east, whence the rattle of musketry
came in increased volume. Another battery tore down the hill, across the
valley, and swung into action behind the crest opposite. Soon they were
firing salvoes as fast as they could load, while our guns were yet idle.
Something seemed to have gone wrong. Anxious eyes were turned to the west,
for the sun had by now nearly reached the horizon and in half an hour at
most it would be too dark to fire.
How precious those three fog-spoilt hours of the early morning would have
been, could we have had them now! The minutes dragged on and still no
orders came. Gradually, as the sun sank, the hideous din of firing around
us died down and then ceased abruptly, as if some unseen hand had descended
and shut off all the guns simultaneously. We limbered up and withdrew a
little way up the hill, and unhooked again for the night. I cannot hope to
describe the bitter disappointment of that moment. That we had been
spectators all day was bad enough, that the horses had been waterless for
thirty hours and that we ourselves were hungry, thirsty, and very weary,
was worse, but that the pernicious fog should have prevented us from
loosing off at any rate one round was the last straw.
We found a small grain of comfort in the shape of a well at the bottom of
the hill, to which, without removing their harness, we took the horses.
After the usual wearisome process of dragging up the water in canvas
buckets we found it to be muddy, yellow stuff, and the horses, thirsty
though they were, would have none of it. Perhaps they were wiser than we
knew....
From the western end of the valley, travelling at a tremendous pace, came a
small cloud of dust making straight for us.
It was a dispatch-rider, bringing word that the Turks were on the other
side of the farther hill in great force and ordering us to clear out at
once to avoid capture.
It never struck us till afterwards that the fact of the water being
undrinkable saved us. Had it not been that we had spent something like half
an hour dragging it from the well and trying to persuade the horses to
drink, the harness would have been removed and we should have been in our
blankets and fast asleep.
As it was, the Turks were in our position twenty minutes after our hurried
departure.