Authorized Press Representative at the Dardanelles.
Dardanelles, via Alexandria,
June 30, 1915.
The battle of the Fourth of June ended with substantial progress on
our centre, although on our left and on our right, notwithstanding the
most violent charges and counter-charges, we were unable to
consolidate some of our initial gains. The reason of this may be found
in the natural strongholds of the Turkish flanks, natural strongholds
that are helped by the most elaborate fortifications.
The British and French line from the Aegean to the Dardanelles is
confronted by rising ground that culminates in the centre with the
flat summit of Achi Baba, 800 ft. high. On either side the ground
falls away to the sea in ravines and dry watercourses (_deres_), which
the Turks have had time to make impregnable to any except those superb
troops that are now fighting to pass over them.
There is no room upon the Gallipoli Peninsula to find weak points, and
we are now in the position of having to storm an immensely strong
fortress, the advanced works of which, by an amazing feat of arms, we
already hold, and the glacis of which has to be crossed before we move
forward to the assault upon the bastion of Achi Baba and beyond to the
final assault upon the very walls of that fortress, the Kilid Bahr
Plateau.
Farther up the coast the Australians and New Zealanders have made a
lodgment upon one of the strongest advanced works of the Kilid Bahr
Plateau. As seen from the northwest here they threaten the
communications of the "fortress" and are drawing against them a large
part of the garrison. This is composed of the flower of the Turkish
Army, and, notwithstanding casualties that must already amount to
70,000, the troops are fighting with gallantry--with desperation,
indeed, because they realize that when the bastion of Achi Baba falls
the occupation of the Kilid Bahr Plateau becomes a mere question of
time, and that when Kilid Bahr falls the doom of Constantinople is at
hand. In view of the difficulties--were it not for the landing one
would be tempted to say the impossibilities--which confront our men,
the gain of a score of yards in the Gallipoli Peninsula may fairly
represent for the purposes of comparison a gain of 500 yards in the
Western theatre of war. Therefore, to find its importance the gain of
500 yards on June 4 must be measured with affairs like Neuve Chapelle;
and the few quiet days that succeeded may be accepted as repose.
[Illustration: Map of Gallipoli Peninsula, showing the mountainous
nature of the terrain, and Achi Baba.]
After a violent effort on the night of June 11 to 12 there was a
brilliant little action by the Border Regiment and the South Wales
Borderers which resulted in the gain of two trenches. On the 16th the
enemy, led by a Turkish and a German officer, made an assault on the
trenches of the 88th Brigade, but were driven off with loss. However,
that night the trenches gained by the two regiments on the 11th were
heavily bombed, so heavily that our men were forced to retire about 30
yards and dig themselves in. At dawn we were able to enfilade with
machine-guns the vacated trenches.
Then the Dublin Fusiliers charged with the bayonet, and once more gave
us possession of our gains at heavy cost to the Turks, whose dead
filled one trench.
On the evening of the 18th the enemy bombarded very heavily another
portion of our trenches on this side of the line. They were evidently
attempting in miniature our own methods of Neuve Chapelle and June 4,
as immediately after the bombardment they were seen to be massing for
an attack. However, the imitation ended rather abruptly at this point,
and the affair petered out.
On the evening of the 19th the Turks by a fierce attack, managed to
get into an awkward salient which had remained in our hands after June
4. For some time there was great difficulty in recovering this, but
the 5th Royal Scots and a company of the Worcesters, led by
Lieut.-Colonel Wilson of the former regiment, made a glorious attack,
and drove out the Turks.
Of the Royal Scots, one can add nothing but that they are Edinburgh
Territorials brought in by the fortune of war to make the twelfth
regiment of the immortal 29th Division whose deeds since April 25
might have stirred the ghost of Homer to sing their valour.
Mention has been made already of the difficulties that oppose our
advance upon the two flanks. On June 21 it was determined to
straighten the line upon the extreme right, and at 1.30 A.M. the
preliminary bombardment began. The dawn had been clear, but soon a
curtain of silver, through which gleamed the ghost of the rising sun,
hung over the Kereves Dere. This was the smoke of bursting shells.
Slowly as the sun climbed up the curtain became more substantial. Then
it seemed to droop and sweep along the hollows like a vanishing mist
of dawn, and during a respite the thin blue smoke of the bivouac fires
came tranquilly up into the still air. The respite was very brief, and
the bombardment began again with greater fierceness than before. The
75's drummed unceasingly. The reverberation of the 125's and of the
howitzers shook the observation post. Over the Kereves Dere, and
beyond, upon the sloping shoulders of Achi Baba, the curtain became a
pall. The sun climbed higher and higher. All that first mirage of
beauty had disappeared, and there was nothing but the monstrous shapes
of bursting shells, giants of smoke that appeared one after another
along the Turkish lines. All through the morning the cannonade went
on.
By noon the Second Division of the French had on the left stormed and
captured all the Turkish trenches of the first two lines. Even the
Haricot Redoubt, with its damnable entanglements and its maze of
communicating trenches, was in French hands. On the right, however,
the First Division, after reaching their objective, had been
counter-attacked so effectively that they had fallen back. Again they
advanced; again they took the trenches; again they were driven out. It
began to look as if the victory upon the left would be fruitless, that
the position would become an untenable salient and the Haricot Redoubt
revert to the enemy.
At this moment a message was sent to say that the trenches must be
recaptured, and, when recaptured, held. There were still five hours of
daylight for this battle of the longest day. British guns and
howitzers were asked for and were lent at once. The bombardment was
resumed throughout that afternoon, and at half-past five it seemed as
if every gun on earth were pouring shells on the Turkish lines.
At six o'clock the third assault was delivered. In one trench there
was a temporary shortage of ammunition, but the enemy fought even with
stones and sticks and fists. A battalion came hurrying up from the
Turkish right to reinforce it, was caught on open ground by the
drumming 75's, and it melted away. Six hundred yards of Turkish
trenches were taken, and still the bombardment was continued in order
to ward off the counter-attack that was anticipated.
The smoke of the shells, which at dawn had been ethereal, almost
translucent, was now, in the sunset, turbid and sinister, yet the
sunset was very splendid, flaming in crimson streamers over Imbros,
tinting the east with rosy reflections and turning the peaks of Asia
to sapphires. It had a peculiar significance on this longest day of
the year, crowning as it did those precious five hours of daylight
that, for the French, had been fraught with such achievement. Slowly
the colour faded out, and now, minute by minute, the flashes of the
guns became more distinct; the smoke was merged in the gathering dusk,
and away over the more distant Turkish lines the bursts of shrapnel
came out like stars against the brief twilight. One knew the anxiety
there would be in the darkness that now was falling upon this 21st of
June, but in the morning we heard gladly that the enemy's
counter-attacks had failed, and that our Allies were indeed firmly
established.
The Turkish casualties were at least 7,000. One trench, 200 yards long
and 10 feet deep, was brimming over with the dead. They were valiant
those dead men. French officers who have fought in the West say that,
as a fighting unit, one Turk is worth two Germans; in fact, with his
back to the wall, the Turk is magnificent. The French casualties were
marvellously few considering what a day it had been, what an enemy was
being attacked, and how much had been gained.
The right of the line now commands Kereves Dere, and the profile of
Achi Baba seems to write itself less solidly against the sky.