FIGHT FOR KISLAH DAGH
GALLANT STAND AND FALL OF THE 7TH DUBLINS
The objective of the new operations was the last crest of Kiretsh Tepe
Sirt, or, as some call it, Kislah Dagh--a continuation of the Karakol
Dagh, which the Munsters had taken--beyond which it dips and swings
southward. Telegraphing from Alexandria, on August 19th, the special
representative of the Press Association says, in the vague way then
enjoined by the Censor, "The attacking troops were a Division which
was almost wholly Irish, and which had already the capture of
Chocolate Hill to its credit." The battalions engaged were, as a fact,
entirely Irish.
The Munsters and 6th Dublins, advancing from different sides,
commenced the attack about midday. "In two hours we had not advanced
twenty yards, so heavy and well directed was the fire of the enemy,"
writes the Colonel of one of the battalions of the Munsters. "Our
second in command, most gallant of officers, was mortally wounded, and
many others had fallen. Two companies, however, under cover of some
dead ground, had managed to get some 200 yards ahead of the rest of
the line, and these companies were now ordered to make a strong
demonstration up the hill in order to try to weaken the resistance on
the top. Fixing bayonets they rushed up with a wild Irish yell, and so
great was their dash that they actually reached the crest. The Turks,
appearing from behind every rock and bush, flung down their arms, and
held up their hands. Many prisoners were taken, but the charge did not
stop. On it swept along the ridge, and the last peak of all was
captured before the enemy could make a stand." Here is an equally
spirited account of the final charge, written by a man in the ranks,
Private Jack Brisbane, of Buttevant, Co. Cork: "The 6th Munsters
charged with the bayonet. You often heard a shout in the hurling
field. It would not be in it. They were like so many mad men. Go on,
Munsters! Up the Munsters! Even the sailors in the harbour heard it,
and climbed up the rigging to try to get a view of it, and shouted
themselves hoarse. Up the Munsters! It was grand. I am proud to be one
of them. Father Murphy, our priest, said the evening after, when he
came to give the boys his blessing: 'Well done, Munsters; you have
done well,' so says the General. Father Murphy is a fine priest. His
last word is: 'Boys, I'm proud I'm an Irishman.'"
Lieutenant Neol E. Drury, of the 6th Dublins, who before the war was a
partner in a Dublin firm of papermakers, supplies the following
spirited account of the action of his battalion in the operations:--
"About 4 o'clock everything seemed ready for a charge, so 'Fix
bayonets' was the order, and, by Jove, the sight in the sun was
ripping. There were several warships lying along the font of the
ridge, and all the crews were lining the decks watching the
fight. When the flash of the bayonets showed up in the sun a
tremendous cheer came up to us. 'Cheer, oh! the Dubs!' Everyone
yelled like mad, and charged up the remaining piece of ground as
if it had been level. The bhoys put it across the Turks
properly, and I can tell you there were not many shining
bayonets when we finished. We drove them off the ridge, helter
skelter, and they fairly bunked, throwing away rifles and
equipment wholesale. When we got to the top we had five
machine-guns playing on them as they ran down the other side,
and as our chaps watched them from the summit they cheered and
waved their helmets like mad, all the other troops back along
the ridge and the ships' crews joining in."
"Throughout the night the enemy, strongly reinforced, delivered
counter-attacks, one after another," writes the same commanding
officer of the Munsters. "The fighting was severe and bloody, but we
held on, and the morning found us still in possession of what we had
gained, though our losses had been terribly heavy." He goes on: "I
wish I could retail half the acts of individual heroism performed
during those hours--how one sergeant and one corporal, the former I
believe had been destined for the priesthood, the latter only a boy,
threw back the enemy's hand grenades before they could burst one after
another, and failing these threw large stones. Alas! before morning
they had both paid the penalty of their gallantry. In the morning we
were relieved, but the roll call was a sad revelation. My observer,
who had been my groom when we had our horses, shot through the body in
the charge, refused to be removed until the doctor promised him that
he would personally tell me that he was wounded, fearing that I might
think he had not followed me. The doctor faithfully fulfilled his
promise, though it cost him a long walk at night. Such was the spirit
of all ranks. Other units, of course, were equally gallant." An
extract from another letter must be given here, as it reveals one of
the little tragedies of war, and the endurance and resolution of the
men. Sergeant Gallagher, of D company of the Inniskillings, which was
transferred to the Munsters and went into action with them, got a
bullet in his right eye and was made stone blind. "I have a
confession to make," he writes from hospital to the recruiting officer
at Strabane, "I deceived you when you enlisted me. I had a glass eye,
and now I have lost the other. I hope to be back in Strabane soon, but
I shall never see the glen again, and watch the trout leaping behind
the bridge. But I am happy, and we showed these Turks what Irishmen
can do. No matter what happens I have done my bit, and I would not
exchange with the best man at home."
The casualties among the other units were equally severe. On Sunday,
late in the afternoon, the 7th Dublins got the word to push on to the
crest of the hill and relieve the battalions that had captured it.
They advanced in the mode of progression which alone was
possible--slowly, in single file, crawling through the thick prickly
scrub, sinking in the sand, stumbling over the rocks. It was laborious
and exhausting work. All the time they were harassed by snipers. On
the way up their commanding officer, Colonel Downing, was twice hit,
and, being disabled, had to be left behind. Gaining the top of the
hill, they relieved the Munsters and the 6th Dublins, and entrenched
themselves as best they could, under the ridge, on the near side by
working hard throughout the night.
At dawn on Monday morning, weary as they were from unremitting toil
and want of sleep, they had to meet an attack by a large force of bomb
throwers and riflemen. The Turks were at least three to one. Under
cover of the night they had crept up the far side of the hill; and
hiding, just under the ridge, behind rocks and bushes, hurled hand
grenades across the twenty yards of rocky summit. The Dublins could
not answer back. Rifle fire was of little use against a concealed
enemy. There were no hand grenades. A few of the Turkish bombs which
had not exploded, being wrongly timed, were hurled back, their long
fuses still alight. Numbers of the Dublins were falling, wounded or
killed. Major Harrison decided to try the effect of a bayonet charge.
This was the action which, at the moment, was just what the men most
desired. For them it was maddening to be held behind entrenchments
whence they were unable to exchange blow for blow--and more--with
those who were dealing death to their ranks. They were aflame with
that bloodthirsty rage of men in battle to get at the throats of their
opponents, to crush them, if need be to tear them to pieces. So when
the order to charge was given the Dublins sprang up into the open.
The first line was led by Captain Poole Hickman, of D company, who
came of a well-known Clare family and was a barrister by profession.
He never returned from the charge. As the Dublins appeared at the
summit there was a splutter of fire along the opposite ridge, which
was lined by Turkish marksmen. The men wavered and swayed uncertainly
for a minute or two before the shower of bullets. Hickman was well in
front, waving his revolver and shouting "On, Dublins!" That was the
last that was seen of him alive. The Turks made a horrid din, shouting
and shrieking, as if further to intimidate their antagonists. But the
Irish can yell, too, and wild were their outcries as with fixed
bayonets or clubbed rifles they scrambled across the rocky summit.
Many of them did not go far. As they dropped they lay strangely quiet
in clumsy attitudes. Among them was their superb leader, Major
Harrison. Others passed scathless over the open ground, only to
disappear for ever behind the ridge. These charges and hand-to-hand
fights commenced about seven o'clock. The Turks fought with tenacity.
It was eleven o'clock before they gave way to the repeated Irish
onslaughts.
During those four hours magnificent courage and daring were shown by
the officers of the 7th Dublins. Many a young Irishman of brilliant
promise was lost that day. They led their companies into the fray and
were the first to fall. Captain Michael FitzGibbon, a law student, and
son of Mr. John FitzGibbon, the Nationalist M.P., Captain R.P. Tobin,
son of Surgeon Tobin, of Dublin--a gallant youth of twenty-one--and
Second Lieutenant Edward Weatherill, an engineer, were killed. They
were of priceless worth to their country and the beloved of their
family circles. Major M. Lonsdale, of the 7th Dublins, writing to Mr.
FitzGibbon, of the death of his son, says he died gallantly, leading
part of A company. His death was instantaneous. All the other officers
belonging to his company were also killed. "It was a desperate fight,"
adds Major Lonsdale, "and I do not think any but Irish soldiers could
have stood up against the losses we suffered that Sunday and Monday."
Lieutenant Ernest Hamilton, of D company, writing to Surgeon Tobin,
states that when Harrison and Hickman fell Captain Tobin took command
of the company. "Our men at this time," he says, "were getting badly
knocked down. Paddy and I took up a position on the top of the knoll,
and from there he controlled the fire and steadied the men. Such
gallantry and coolness I have never witnessed. We fought like demons
against three times our numbers, and held on, too. Our knoll came in
for at least six attacks. During one of these your son was killed,
shot through the head. He caught me by the shoulder, and when I turned
round he had passed away. I carried him back some distance and placed
him under shelter, but had to get back to my position to try to
follow his magnificent example. His death affected the men so much
that I thought all was finished. They fought for another hour as they
never fought before. Then they were relieved."
Similar scenes were being enacted in other parts of the field of
operations. The casualties among the officers of all the Irish
regiments engaged were very heavy. Captain W.R. Richards, of the 6th
Dublins, a Dublin solicitor, and Lieutenant J.J. Doyle, an engineering
student of the National University, were killed. So, too, was
Lieutenant W.C. Nesbitt, of the same regiment. Before he enlisted Mr.
Nesbitt was in the service of the Alliance Gas Company, Dublin. His
company had captured a ridge when he was shot in the side. Some of his
men ran to his aid and raised him up. At the same instant he was
struck a second time and killed. Among the officers of other regiments
who fell was Second Lieutenant Hugh Maurice MacDermot, 6th Irish
Fusiliers, eldest son of The MacDermot of Coolavin, Co. Sligo. Writing
of the officers of the 5th Irish Regiment, Father Peter O'Farrell,
chaplain to the battalion, says: "Nothing could excel, if anything
could equal, the conduct of the company and platoon commanders on the
16th. Some stood on the ridge waving their revolvers and pointing out
the enemy to their men. Of course they sacrificed their lives, for
scarcely a man appeared over the ridge but went down to the
well-directed fire of the Turkish snipers. These brilliant men,
however, feared nothing. They even sang Irish tunes and shouted 'Up,
Tip,' to encourage the Irish soldiers."
Many gaps were made that day in Irish sporting and professional
circles. Only a few more names of the dead can be given out of the
many who showed splendid devotion to duty and supreme self-sacrifice:
Captain Dillon Preston, of the 6th Dublin Fusiliers; Captain George
Grant Duggan, of the 5th Irish Fusiliers; Lieutenant J.R. Duggan, of
the 5th Irish Regiment. The 7th Munster Fusiliers lost on August 16th
alone four captains and two subalterns killed out of the thirteen
officers who had survived the previous engagements. Among them were
two Dublin men--Captain John V. Dunne, solicitor, and Lieutenant Kevin
O'Duffy. Lieutenant Ernest M. Harper, of the same battalion, who was
also killed, was a demonstrator in chemistry in Queen's University,
Belfast. Lieutenant H.H. McCormac, 5th Irish Fusiliers, killed, was on
the clerical staff at the Limerick offices of Guinness, the brewers.
The famous D company of the 7th Dublins, led by Captain Poole Hickman
and Captain Tobin, was practically wiped out. It was composed
altogether of young men distinguished in football and cricket and
other forms of sport. Many of them had ample private means, all
belonged to the professional middle class of Dublin, and they felt it
a high honour to serve in the rank and file of the Army.
Sir Bryan Mahon, the General in command of the 10th Division, sent a
message to his troops saying that Ireland should be proud to own such
soldiers. Ireland, indeed, is proud, though what happened was no more
than what she expected. When the 7th Dublins were congratulated upon
the stand they had made, their answer was: "And what the blank, blank,
did you think we would do?" But with all her exultation in the valour
of her sons, Ireland cannot close her ears to the cry of the Colonel
of the 7th Munsters on seeing the few officers who returned from the
fray: "My poor boys! My poor boys!"
There was a continuous series of desperate fights for the command of
Sari Bair until the end of August. On the 21st of the month a general
offensive took place on a grand scale, in which the forces of all
nationalities that landed at Suvla Bay were engaged. To strengthen the
attack of these inexperienced and unseasoned but most gallant troops
the veteran 29th Division was brought up from Cape Helles. In that
Division were the survivors of the 1st Regular battalions of the
Dublins, Munsters and Inniskillings who took part in that most
frightful and glorious episode of the campaign--the landing at
Sedd-el-Bahr on April 25th, under the murderous fire of the Turkish
batteries stationed on the cliffs.
The new Irish battalions again distinguished themselves in the battle
of August 21st. The 5th Connaught Rangers made a famous charge for
which they were specially thanked by the Australian Commander of their
Division. "The Rangers," writes an officer of the battalion, "issued
out to attack and capture the Kabak Kuzu wells and the Turkish
trenches in the neighbourhood. It did not take them long. The men
poured out from a gap in the line, shook out to four paces interval,
and with a cheer carried all before them, bayoneting all the Turks in
the trenches, capturing the wells, and even capturing some ground on
the Kaiajik Aghala. All that night the position was consolidated, and
in the morning was still held by the Rangers. The next day we were
thanked by three General Officers and congratulated on the magnificent
charge." The 7th Dublins had to advance across an open plain under the
heights of Sari Bair. An Australian soldier who stood on a
neighbouring hill told me that while English battalions cautiously
crossed in a series of rushes--falling flat on their stomachs at each
outburst of the Turkish guns--the Dublins made their way over the
uneven, hillocky ground at a run. To move slowly, with proper caution,
would be torture to their Irish nature, impatient and ardent, in such
circumstances.
One of the old Regular battalions in the 29th Division, the 1st
Inniskillings, also greatly added to their renown by their dauntless
resolution on August 21st. The battalion pushed up to the top of Hill
70, or Scimitar Hill, but were unable to maintain their position,
owing, as the Brigadier-General of their Brigade states, "to the
unavoidably inadequate artillery support and complete preparedness on
the part of the enemy, resulting in heavy cross-fire from shrapnel,
machine-guns and rifles." Again they climbed the hill and again were
driven back. They made a third charge up the hill, and after a
desperate struggle were compelled once more to yield ground that was
now thickly strewn with their dying and dead. The Brigadier-General
mentions that the Inniskillings undertook the two further assaults
entirely on their own initiative. He adds: "Had there been any
appreciable number of survivors in the battalion, and had Captain Pike
been spared to lead them for a fourth time, they would have continued
their efforts to secure complete possession of the hill."
The operations failed in their main purpose. Sari Bair remained in the
possession of the Turks. Mistakes made by some of the Generals of
Divisions are said, by Sir Ian Hamilton, the Commander-in-Chief, to
have been largely to blame for things going wrong. But the fighting
was not altogether barren of results. The most desperate engagements
in the last days of August had for their object the capture of Hill
60, close to Sari Bair. An attack by the 5th Connaught Rangers on
August 29th secured its possession.
The battalion was again congratulated on its gallantry by three
different General Officers. One of them, General Sir A.J. Godley, in
command of the New Zealanders, sent the following message to Colonel
Jourdaine, of the 5th Connaughts:--
"Heartiest congratulations from the New Zealand and Australian
Division on your brilliant achievement this evening, which is a
fitting sequel to the capture of Kabak Kuzu wells, and will go
down to history among the finest feats of your distinguished
regiment. Personally as an Irishman who has served in two Irish
regiments it gives me the greatest pride and pleasure that the
regiment should have performed such gallant deeds under my
command. Stick to what you have got and consolidate."
But all was in vain. Gallipoli had to be abandoned. The British
withdrew from the Peninsula in January, 1916. The cost of the invasion
in men, killed, wounded and missing, was 114,555. The casualties in
the 10th Irish Division were cruel. At least a third of the forces
were killed, disabled, or invalided by bullets, shells and dysentery.
Gallipoli had become a place of shadows and phantoms to the 10th Irish
Division. As they looked back upon it they could not but think of the
maelstrom of thick and prickly scrub, yielding sand, rocky defiles,
and steep hills of that roadless country; of strong Turkish
entrenchments, the continuous roar of guns, bullets, shells, concealed
snipers; of broiling heat, sweat, thirst, tormenting flies, lack of
water, and dysentery, into which they were plunged on August 7th; of
scrambling and bloody fighting; and of the want of foresight and
imagination in their high commanders that followed. It was a soldiers'
campaign, in which the bayonet and the man behind it counted for
everything, and the brains of the Generals--if indeed there were
any--for nothing. The whole network of memories made a horrid
nightmare of confusion, agony, and sacrifice of life unparalleled in
the history of the British Army, relieved only--but how magnificently
relieved--by the endurance and gallantry of the troops, unequalled and
unsurpassable.
Yet the 10th Division were loth to leave that dread Peninsula, which,
like a fearful monster, had devoured the young men of Ireland. They
were sorry to go, because the purpose of the campaign was unachieved;
still more sorry to part from their dead comrades. Because of those
dead Gallipoli will ever be to the Irish race a place of glorious
pride and sorrow. Well may that huddled heap of hills between Suvla
Bay and Sari Bair be haunted by the wraith of Irish tragedy and grief;
well may the wailing cry of the banshee be ever heard there.