THE INCEPTION
The breach with Turkey, so pregnant with evil destiny, did not
attract much attention in England at the moment. All thoughts were
then fixed upon the struggle of our thin and almost exhausted line to
hold Ypres and check the enemy’s straining endeavour to command the
Channel coast by occupying Dunkirk, Calais, and Boulogne. The Turk’s
military reputation had fallen low in the Balkan War of 1912, and few
realised how greatly his power had been re-established under Enver
and the German military mission. Egypt was the only obvious point
of danger, and the desert of Sinai appeared a sufficient protection
against an unscientific and poverty-stricken foe; or, if the desert
were penetrated, the Canal, though itself the point to be protected,
was trusted to protect itself. On November 8, however, some troops
from India seized Fao, at the mouth of the Tigris-Euphrates, and, with
reinforcements, occupied Basrah on the 23rd, thus inaugurating that
Mesopotamian expedition which, after terrible vicissitudes, reached
Bagdad early in March 1917.
[Sidenote: THE CAMPAIGN SUGGESTED]
These measures, however, did not satisfy Mr. Churchill. At a meeting of
the War Council on November 25, he returned to his idea of striking at
the Gallipoli Peninsula, if only as a feint. Lord Kitchener considered
the moment had not yet arrived, and regarded a suggestion to collect
transport in Egypt for 40,000 men as unnecessary at present. In his
own words, Mr. Churchill “put the project on one side, and thought
no more of it for the time,” although horse-boats continued to be
sent to Alexandria “in case the War Office should, at a later stage,
wish to undertake a joint naval and military operation in the Eastern
Mediterranean.”[8]
On January 2, 1915, a telegram from our Ambassador at Petrograd
completely altered the situation. Russia, hard pressed in the Caucasus,
called for a demonstration against the Turks in some other quarter.
Certainly, at that moment, Russia had little margin of force. She was
gasping from the effort to resist Hindenburg’s frontal attack upon
Warsaw across the Bzura, and the contest had barely turned in her
favour during Christmas week. In the Caucasus the situation had become
serious, since Enver, by clever strategy, attempted to strike at Kars
round the rear of a Russian army which then appeared to threaten an
advance upon Erzeroum. On the day upon which the telegram was sent,
the worst danger had already been averted, for in the neighbourhood of
Sarikamish the Russians had destroyed Enver’s 9th Corps, and seriously
defeated the 10th and 11th. But this fortunate and unexpected result
was probably still unknown in Petrograd when our Ambassador telegraphed
his appeal.
On the following day (January 3, 1915) an answer, drafted in the War
Office, but sent through the Foreign Office, was returned, promising
a demonstration against the Turks, but fearing that it would be
unlikely to effect any serious withdrawal of Turkish troops in the
Caucasus. Sir Edward Grey considered that “when our Ally appealed for
assistance we were bound to do what we could.” But Lord Kitchener was
far from hopeful. He informed Mr. Churchill that the only place where a
demonstration might have some effect in stopping reinforcements going
East would be the Dardanelles. But he thought we could not do much to
help the Russians in the Caucasus; “we had no troops to land anywhere”;
“we should not be ready for anything big for some months.”[9]
So, by January 3, we were bound to some sort of a demonstration in the
Dardanelles, but Lord Kitchener regarded it as a mere feint in the hope
of withholding or recalling Turkish troops from the Caucasus, and he
evidently contemplated a purely or mainly naval demonstration which
we could easily withdraw without landing troops, and without loss of
prestige. In sending this answer to Petrograd, he does not appear to
have consulted the War Council as a whole. His decision, though not
very enthusiastic, was sufficient; for in the conduct of the war he
dominated the War Council, as he dominated the country.
[Sidenote: THE WAR COUNCIL]
The War Council had taken the place of the old Committee of Imperial
Defence (instituted in 1901, and reconstructed in 1904). The change was
made towards the end of November 1914, but, except in one important
particular, it was little more than a change in name. Like the old
Committee, the Council were merely a Committee of the Cabinet, with
naval and military experts added to give advice. The main difference
was that the War Council, instead of laying its decisions before the
Cabinet for approval or discussion, gave effect even to the most vital
of them upon its own responsibility, and thus gathered into its own
hands all deliberative and executive powers regarding military and
naval movements. Sir Edward Grey, as Foreign Secretary, Mr. Lloyd
George, as Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Lord Crewe, as Secretary
for India, occasionally attended the meetings, and Mr. Balfour was
invited to attend. But the real power remained with Mr. Asquith, the
Prime Minister, Lord Kitchener, the Secretary for War, and Mr. Winston
Churchill, First Lord of the Admiralty. In Mr. Asquith’s own words:
“The daily conduct of the operations of the war was in the hands of the
Ministers responsible for the Army and Navy in constant consultation
with the Prime Minister.”[10]
[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER’S POWER]
This inner trinity of Ministers was dominated, as we said, by Lord
Kitchener’s massive personality. In his evidence before the Dardanelles
Commission, Mr. Churchill thus described the effect of that remarkable
man upon the other members:
“Lord Kitchener’s personal qualities and position played at this
time a very great part in the decision of events. His prestige and
authority were immense. He was the sole mouthpiece of War Office
opinion in the War Council. Every one had the greatest admiration
for his character, and every one felt fortified, amid the terrible
and incalculable events of the opening months of the war, by his
commanding presence. When he gave a decision, it was invariably
accepted as final. He was never, to my belief, overruled by the War
Council or the Cabinet in any military matter, great or small. No
single unit was ever sent or withheld contrary, not merely to his
agreement, but to his advice. Scarcely any one ever ventured to
argue with him in Council. Respect for the man, sympathy for him
in his immense labours, confidence in his professional judgment,
and the belief that he had plans deeper and wider than any we could
see, silenced misgivings and disputes, whether in the Council or at
the War Office. All-powerful, imperturbable, reserved, he dominated
absolutely our counsels at this time.”[11]
These sentences accurately express the ideal of Lord Kitchener as
conceived by the public mind. His large but still active frame, his
striking appearance, and his reputation for powerful reserve, in
themselves inspired confidence. His patient and ultimately successful
services in Egypt, the Soudan, South Africa, and India were famed
throughout the country, which discovered in him the very embodiment
of the silent strength and tenacity, piously believed to distinguish
the British nature. Shortly before the outbreak of war, Mr. Asquith as
Prime Minister had taken the charge of the War Office upon himself,
owing to Presbyterian Ulster’s threat of civil war, and the possibility
of mutiny among the British garrison in Ireland, if commanded to
proceed against that rather self-righteous population. When war with
Germany was declared, it so happened that Lord Kitchener was in
England, on the point of returning to Egypt, and Mr. Asquith handed
over to him his own office as Secretary for War. The Cabinet, and
especially Lord Haldane (then Lord Chancellor, but Minister of War
from 1905 to 1912), the most able of army organisers, urged him to
this step. But he needed no persuasion. He never thought of any other
successor as possible. As he has said himself:
“Lord Kitchener’s appointment was received with universal
acclamation, so much so indeed that it was represented as having been
forced upon a reluctant Cabinet by the overwhelming pressure of an
intelligent and prescient Press.”[12]
By the consent of all, Lord Kitchener was the one man capable of
conducting the war, and by the consent of most he remained the one
man, though he conducted it. Yet it might well be argued that the
public mind, incapable of perceiving complexity, accepted a simple
ideal of their hero which he himself had deliberately created. A hint
of the mistake may be found in Mr. Asquith’s speech.[13] He admitted
that Lord Kitchener was a masterful man; that he had been endowed
with a formidable personality, and was by nature rather disposed to
keep his own counsel. But he maintained that he “was by no means the
solitary and taciturn autocrat in the way he had been depicted.” One
may describe him as shy rather than aggressive, genial rather than
relentless, a reasonable peacemaker rather than a man of iron. Under
that unbending manner, he studiously concealed a love of beauty, both
human and artistic. Under a rapt appearance of far-reaching designs,
his mind was much occupied with inappropriate detail, and could relax
into trivialities. He was distinguished rather for sudden flashes of
intuition than for reasoned and elaborated plans. During the first
year of the war, his natural temptation to occupy himself in matters
better delegated to subordinates was increased by the absence in France
of experienced officers whom he could have trusted for staff work. He
became his own Chief of Staff,[14] and diverted much of his energy to
minor services. At the War Council he acted as his own expert, and
Sir James Murray, who always attended the meetings as Chief of the
Imperial General Staff, was never even asked to express an opinion. The
labours thus thrown upon Lord Kitchener, or mistakenly assumed, when
he was engaged upon the task of creating new armies out of volunteers,
and organising an unmilitary nation for war while the war thundered
across the Channel, were too vast and multifarious for a single brain,
however resolute. It is possible also that the course of years had
slightly softened the personal will which had withstood Lord Milner in
carrying through the peace negotiations at Pretoria, and Lord Curzon
in reforming the Viceroy’s Council at Simla. Nevertheless, when all is
said, all-powerful, imperturbable, reserved, Lord Kitchener dominated
absolutely the counsels of the war’s first year, and his service to the
country was beyond all estimate. It raises his memory far above the
reach of the malignant detraction attempted after his death by certain
organs of that “intelligent and prescient Press” which had shrieked
for his appointment.[15]
[Sidenote: MR. ASQUITH AS PRIME MINISTER]
Second in authority upon the War Council and with the nation, but
only second, stood Mr. Asquith. For six years he had been Prime
Minister--years marked by the restlessness and turbulence of expanding
liberty at home, and abroad by ever-increasing apprehension. Yet his
authority was derived less from his office than from personal qualities
which, as in Lord Kitchener’s case, the English people like to believe
peculiarly their own. He was incorruptible, above suspicion. His mind
appeared to move in a cold but pellucid atmosphere, free alike from
the generous enthusiasm and the falsehood of extremes. Sprung from the
intellectual middle-class, he conciliated by his origin, and encouraged
by his eminence. His eloquence was unsurpassed in the power of simple
statement, in a lucidity more than legal, and, above all, in brevity.
The absence of emotional appeal, and, even more, the absence of humour,
promoted confidence, while it disappointed. Here, people thought, was a
personality rather wooden and unimaginative, but trustworthy as one who
is not passion’s slave. No one, except rivals or journalistic wreckers,
ever questioned his devotion to the country’s highest interests as he
conceived them, and, as statesmen go, he appeared almost uninfluenced
by vanity.
Balliol and the Law had rendered him too fastidious and precise
for exuberant popularity, but under an apparent immobility and
educated restraint he concealed, like Lord Kitchener, qualities more
attractive and humane. Although conspicuous for cautious moderation,
he was not obdurate against reason, but could sing a palinode upon
changed convictions.[16] Unwavering fidelity to his colleagues, and
a magnanimity like Cæsar’s in combating the assaults of political
opponents, and disregarding the treachery of most intimate enemies,
surrounded him with a personal affection which surprised external
observers; while his restrained and unexpressive demeanour covered
an unsuspected kindliness of heart. In spite of his lapses into
fashionable reaction, most supporters of the Gladstonian tradition
still looked to him for guidance along the lines of peaceful and
gradual reform, when suddenly the war-cloud burst, obliterating in
one deluge all the outlines of peace and progress and law. The Tsar
who, with assumed philanthropy, had proposed the Peace Conferences
at The Hague; the ruler to whom the ambition of retaining the title
of “Friedenskaiser” was, perhaps honestly, attributed; the President
who had known how passionately France clung to peace; the Belgian
King who foresaw the devastation of his wealthy country; the stricken
Emperor who, through long years of disaster following disaster, had
hoped his distracted heritage might somehow hang together still--all
must have suffered a torture of anxiety and indecision during those
fateful days of July and August 1914. But upon none can the decision
have inflicted deeper suffering than upon a Prime Minister naturally
peaceful, naturally kindly, naturally indisposed to haste, plagued with
the scholar’s and the barrister’s torturing ability to perceive many
sides to every question, and hoping to crown a laborious life by the
accomplishment of political and domestic projects which, at the first
breath of war, must wither away. Yet he decided.
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S IDEA]
Third in influence upon the War Council (that is to say, upon the
direction of all naval and military affairs) stood Mr. Winston
Churchill. In his evidence before the Commission, Mr. Churchill stated:
“I was on a rather different plane. I had not the same weight or
authority as those two Ministers, nor the same power, and if they
said, This is to be done or not to be done, that settled it.”[17]
The Commissioners add in comment that Mr. Churchill here “probably
assigned to himself a more unobtrusive part than that which he actually
played.” The comment is justified in relation to the Dardanelles, not
merely because it is difficult to imagine Mr. Churchill playing an
unobtrusive part upon any occasion, but because, as we have seen, the
idea of a Dardanelles Expedition was specially his own. It was one
of those ideas for which we are sometimes indebted to the inspired
amateur. For the amateur, untrammelled by habitual routine, and not
easily appalled by obstacles which he cannot realise, allows his
imagination the freer scope, and contemplates his own particular
vision under a light that never was in office or in training-school.
In Mr. Churchill’s case, the vision of the Dardanelles was, in truth,
beatific. His strategic conception, if carried out, would have implied,
not merely victory, but peace. Success would at once have secured the
defence of Egypt, but far more besides. It would have opened a high
road, winter and summer, for the supply of munitions and equipment to
Russia, and a high road for returning ships laden with the harvests
of the Black Earth. It would have severed the German communication
with the Middle East, and rendered our Mesopotamian campaign either
unnecessary or far more speedily fortunate. On the political side,
it would have held Bulgaria steady in neutrality or brought her into
our alliance. It might have saved Serbia without even an effort at
Salonika, and certainly it would have averted all the subsequent
entanglements with Greece. Throughout the whole Balkans, the Allies
would at once have obtained the position which the enemy afterwards
held, and have surrounded the Central Powers with an iron circle
complete at every point except upon the Baltic coast, the frontiers
of Denmark, Holland, and Switzerland, and a strip of the Adriatic.
Under those conditions, it is hardly possible that the war could have
continued after 1916. In a speech made during the summer of the year
before that (after his resignation as First Lord), Mr. Churchill was
justified in saying:
“The struggle will be heavy, the risks numerous, the losses cruel;
but victory, when it comes, will make amends for all. There never was
a great subsidiary operation of war in which a more complete harmony
of strategic, political, and economic advantages has combined, or
which stood in truer relation to the main decision which is in the
central theatre. Through the Narrows of the Dardanelles and across
the ridges of the Gallipoli Peninsula lie some of the shortest paths
to a triumphant peace.”[18]
[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER’S EARLY OBJECTION]
The strategic design, though not above criticism (for many critics
advised leaving the Near East alone, and concentrating all our
force upon the Western front)--the design in itself was brilliant.
All depended upon success, and success depended upon the method of
execution. Like every sane man, professional or lay, Mr. Churchill
favoured a joint naval and military attack. The trouble--the fatal
trouble--was that in January 1915 Lord Kitchener could not spare the
men. He was anxious about home defence, anxious about Egypt (always his
special care), and most anxious not to diminish the fighting strength
in France, where the army was concentrating for an offensive which was
subsequently abandoned, except for the attack at Neuve Chapelle (in
March). He estimated the troops required for a Dardanelles landing at
150,000, and at this time he appears hardly to have considered the
suggested scheme except as a demonstration from which the navy could
easily withdraw.
Mr. Churchill’s object was already far more extensive. Like the rest of
the world, he had marvelled at the power of the German big guns--guns
of unsuspected calibre--in destroying the forts of Liége and Namur.
In his quixotic attempt to save Antwerp (an attempt justly conceived
but revealing the amateur in execution) by stiffening the Belgian
troops with a detachment of British marines and the unorganised and
ill-equipped Royal Naval Division under General Paris, he had himself
witnessed another proof of such power. For he was present in the
doomed city from October 4 to 7, two days before it fell. Misled by
a false analogy between land and sea warfare, he asked himself why
the guns of super-Dreadnoughts like the _Queen Elizabeth_ should not
have a similarly overwhelming effect upon the Turkish forts in the
Dardanelles; especially since, under the new conditions of war, their
fire could be directed and controlled by aeroplane observation, while
the ships themselves remained out of sight upon the sea side of the
Peninsula. It was this argument which ultimately induced Lord Kitchener
to assent, though reluctantly, to a purely naval attempt to force the
Straits, for he admitted that “as to the power of the _Queen Elizabeth_
he had no means of judging.”[19]
But, for the moment, Mr. Churchill contented himself with telegraphing
to Vice-Admiral Carden (January 3):
“Do you think that it is a practicable operation to force the
Dardanelles by the use of ships alone?... The importance of the
results would justify severe loss.”
[Illustration: SERVICE ON BOARD H.M.S. _QUEEN ELIZABETH_, SEEN BETWEEN
HER 15-INCH GUNS]
At the same time he stated that it was assumed that “older battleships”
would be employed, furnished with mine-sweepers, and preceded by
colliers or other merchant vessels as sweepers and bumpers. On
January 5 Carden replied:
“I do not think that the Dardanelles can be rushed, but they might be
forced by extended operations with a large number of ships.”
Next day Mr. Churchill telegraphed: “High authorities here concur in
your opinion.” He further asked for detailed particulars showing what
force would be required for extended operations.[20]
[Sidenote: THE ADMIRALS IN AUTHORITY]
Among the “high authorities,” Carden naturally supposed that one or
more of the naval experts who attended the War Council were included.
These naval experts were, in the first place, Lord Fisher (First
Sea Lord) and Sir Arthur Wilson, Admirals of long and distinguished
service. Both were over seventy years of age, and both were regarded
by the navy and the whole country with the highest respect, though for
distinct and even opposite qualities. Lord Fisher had been exposed
to the criticism merited by all reformers, or bestowed upon them.
Especially it was argued that his insistence upon the Dreadnought type,
by rendering the former fleet obsolete, had given our hostile rival
upon the seas the opportunity of starting a new naval construction on
almost equal terms with our own. But, none the less, Lord Fisher was
recognised as the man to command the fleet by the right of genius, and
his authority at sea was hardly surpassed by Lord Kitchener’s on land.
The causes of the confidence and respect inspired by Sir Arthur Wilson
are sufficiently suggested by his invariable nickname of “Tug.” Both
Admirals were members of the War Staff Group, instituted by Prince
Louis of Battenberg in the previous November,[21] and both attended the
War Council as the principal naval experts. Admiral Sir Henry Jackson
and Vice-Admiral Sir Henry Oliver (Chief of the Staff) were also
present on occasion.
[Sidenote: THEIR DUTY AS ADVISERS]
The expert’s duty in such a position has been much disputed. The
question, in brief, is whether he acts as adviser to his Minister only
(in this case, Mr. Churchill), or to the Council as a whole. Lord
Fisher and Sir Arthur Wilson, supported by Sir James Wolfe Murray,
Chief of the Imperial General Staff under Lord Kitchener (who was
always his own expert), maintained they were right in acting solely
as Mr. Churchill’s advisers. Though they sat at the same table, they
did not consider themselves members of the War Council. It was not
for them to speak, unless spoken to. They were to be seen and not
heard. The object of their presence was to help the First Lord, if
their help was asked, as it never was. In case of disagreement with
their chief, there could be “no altercation.” They must be silent
or resign. Their office doomed them, as they considered, to the old
Persian’s deplorable fate of having many thoughts, but no power.[22]
In this view of their duties, they were strongly supported among the
Dardanelles Commissioners by Mr. Andrew Fisher (representing Australia)
and Sir Thomas Mackenzie (representing New Zealand). Following official
etiquette, they were, it seems, justified in holding themselves bound
by official rules to acquiesce in anything short of certain disaster
rather than serve the country by an undisciplined word.[23]
If this attitude was technically correct, it is the more unfortunate
that the Ministers most directly concerned, as being members of the War
Council, should have taken exactly the opposite view, though masters
of parliamentary technique. In his evidence before the Commission, Mr.
Churchill, the man most closely concerned, protested:
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S OBJECTS]
“Whenever I went to the War Council I always insisted on being
accompanied by the First Sea Lord and Sir Arthur Wilson, and when,
at the War Council, I spoke in the name of the Admiralty, I was not
expressing simply my own views, but I was expressing to the best
of my ability the opinions we had agreed upon at our daily group
meetings; and I was expressing these opinions in the presence of two
naval colleagues and friends who had the right, the knowledge, and
the power at any moment to correct me or dissent from what I said,
and who were fully cognizant of their rights.”[24]
Mr. Asquith said “he should have expected any of the experts there, if
they entertained a strong personal view on their own expert authority,
to express it.”[25] Lord Grey, Lord Haldane, Lord Crewe, Mr. Lloyd
George, and Colonel Maurice Hankey, the very able Secretary to the War
Council, gave similar evidence. Mr. Balfour said: “I do not believe
it is any use having in experts unless you try and get at their inner
thoughts on the technical questions before the Council.”[26] In the
House of Commons, at a later date, Mr. Asquith maintained:
“They (the experts) were there--that was the reason, and the only
reason, for their being there--to give the lay members the benefit
of their advice.... To suppose that these experts were tongue-tied
or paralysed by a nervous regard for the possible opinion of their
political superiors is to suppose that they had really abdicated the
functions which they were intended to discharge.”[27]
These views appear so reasonable that we might suppose them unofficial,
had not the speakers occupied the highest official positions
themselves. The result of this difference of opinion regarding the duty
of expert advisers was disastrous. The War Council assumed the silence
of the experts to imply acquiescence, whereas it sprang from obedience
to etiquette. Before the Commission, Lord Fisher stated that from
the first he was “instinctively against it” (_i.e._ against Admiral
Carden’s plan);[28] that he “was dead against the naval operation
alone because he knew it must be a failure”; and he added, “I must
reiterate that as a purely naval operation I think it was doomed to
failure.”[29] It may be supposed that these statements were prophecies
after the event, and the Commissioners observe that Lord Fisher did not
at the time record any such strongly adverse opinions. Nevertheless,
on the very day when a demonstration was first discussed, he wrote
privately to Mr. Churchill:
“I consider the attack on Turkey holds the field, but only if it
is immediate; however, it won’t be. We shall decide on a futile
bombardment of the Dardanelles, which wears out the invaluable guns
of the _Indefatigable_, which probably will require replacement. What
good resulted from the last bombardment? Did it move a single Turk
from the Caucasus?”[30]
Two days later he sent Mr. Churchill a formal minute, saying that our
policy must not jeopardise our naval superiority, but the advantages
of possessing Constantinople and getting wheat through the Black Sea
were so overwhelming that he considered Colonel Hankey’s plans for
Turkish operations vital and imperative, and very pressing. The object
of these plans (circulated to the War Council on December 28, 1914)
was to strike at Germany through her allies, particularly by weaving
a web around Turkey; and for this purpose Lord Fisher sketched a much
wider policy requiring the co-operation of Roumania, Bulgaria, Greece,
and Serbia.[31] The scheme was not identical with another design of
naval strategy which was already occupying Lord Fisher’s mind, and the
frustration of which by the Dardanelles Expedition ultimately caused
his resignation (in May). But the evidence here quoted shows that Lord
Fisher could not be included among the “high authorities” referred
to by Mr. Churchill as concurring with Admiral Carden’s opinion. Mr.
Churchill said in his evidence that he did not wish to include either
Lord Fisher or Sir Arthur Wilson (who throughout agreed with Lord
Fisher in the main). He was thinking of Admirals Jackson and Oliver.
Yet to Admiral Carden’s mind Lord Fisher would naturally be suggested
as one of the high authorities; and was suggested.[32]
[Sidenote: ADMIRAL JACKSON’S OPINION]
So soon as a demonstration of some sort was decided upon, Mr. Churchill
asked Admiral Jackson to prepare a memorandum, which the Admiral
described as a “Note on forcing the passages of the Dardanelles and
Bosphorus by the Allied fleets in order to destroy the Turko-German
squadron and threaten Constantinople without military co-operation.”
The last three words are important, for it is evident that, though
Admiral Jackson expressed no resolute opposition at the time, he
was strongly opposed to the idea of a merely naval attack. In this
memorandum he pointed out facts which even a layman might have
discerned: that the ships, even if they destroyed the enemy squadron,
would be exposed to torpedo at night, to say nothing of field-guns
and rifles in the Straits, and would hold no line of retreat unless
the shore batteries had been destroyed; that, though they might
dominate the city, their position would not be enviable without a
large military force to occupy it; that the bombardment alone would
not be worth the considerable loss involved; that the city could not
be occupied without troops, and there was a risk of indiscriminate
massacre.[33]
The dangers of an unsupported naval attack were so obvious that Admiral
Jackson can have needed no further authority in urging them. Yet he may
have recalled a memorandum drawn up by the General Staff (December 19,
1906), stating that “military opinion, looking at the question from the
point of view of coast defence, would be in entire agreement with the
naval view that unaided action by the Fleet, bearing in mind the risks
involved, was much to be deprecated.”[34]
Admiral Jackson’s discouraging memorandum of January 5 was not shown
to the War Council. Yet it was of vital importance. In his evidence,
Admiral Jackson insisted that he had always stuck to this memorandum:
“It would be a very mad thing,” he said, “to try and get into the Sea
of Marmora without having the Gallipoli Peninsula held by our own
troops or every gun on both sides of the Straits destroyed. He had
never changed that opinion, and he had never given any one any reason
to think he had.”
Long afterwards, Mr. Churchill suggested that what Admiral Jackson
meant by a mad thing was an attempt to rush the Straits without having
strong landing-parties available, and transports ready to enter when
the batteries were seen to be silent.[35] It is just possible to put
that interpretation on the words, but both they and the memorandum
itself appear naturally to imply a far larger military force than
landing-parties as essential.
On January 11 Vice-Admiral Carden telegraphed a detailed scheme for
gradually forcing the Dardanelles by four successive stages, the
operations to cover about a month. The plan was considered by the
War Staff Group at the Admiralty, and in subsequent evidence all
agreed that they were very dubious, if not hostile. Lord Fisher said
he was instinctively against it. Sir Arthur Wilson said he never
recommended it. Admiral Oliver and Commodore Bartolomé said they were
definitely opposed to a purely naval attempt. But all agreed that the
operations could not lead to disaster, as they might be broken off
at any moment.[36] Admiral Jackson (not a member of the Group) also
drew up a detailed memorandum upon all stages of the plan, “concurring
generally,” and suggesting that the first stage should be approved at
once, as the experience gained might be useful. He insisted in evidence
that he recommended only an attack on the outer forts. He accepted the
policy of a purely naval attack solely on the ground that it was not
for him to decide. His responsibility was limited to his staff work,
which he performed.[37]
[Sidenote: THE WAR COUNCIL’S FIRST DECISION]
The two decisive meetings of the War Council on January 13 and January
28 followed. At the former meeting Mr. Churchill explained the details
of Admiral Carden’s plan, adding that, besides certain older ships,
two new battle-cruisers, one being the _Queen Elizabeth_, could be
employed.[38] He thus revived his Antwerp experience of big-gun power
against fortresses. When the exposition of the whole design was
completed, Lord Kitchener gave it as his opinion that “the plan was
worth trying. We could leave off the bombardment if it did not prove
effective.” In this delusive belief the War Council arrived at the
momentous decision:
“The Admiralty should prepare for a naval expedition in February to
bombard and take the Gallipoli Peninsula, with Constantinople as its
objective.”[39]
Although the word “take” is used, the Council had no intention at
this time of employing a military force. It was assumed that none was
available. The same meeting sanctioned Sir John French’s plan for an
offensive in France (the offensive which degenerated into the attack on
Neuve Chapelle in March). In case of a naval failure, the ships could
be withdrawn; in case of success, there was talk of a revolution in
Constantinople, and upon that hope the Council gambled.[40]
During this meeting Lord Fisher, together with Admiral Wilson and Sir
James Murray, sat dumb as usual, and his silence was as usual taken
for assent. When the Council had arrived at their resolution, he
considered his sole duty was to assist in carrying it out. The very
next day he signed a memorandum from Mr. Churchill strongly advising
that we should devote ourselves to “the methodical forcing of the
Dardanelles,”[41] and he added the two powerful battleships _Lord
Nelson_ and _Agamemnon_ to the fleet allotted for this operation.
But his underlying difference of opinion became steadily stronger.
In evidence, Mr. Churchill said he “could see that Lord Fisher was
increasingly worried about the Dardanelles situation. He reproached
himself for having agreed to begin the operation.... His great wish was
to put a stop to the whole thing.... I knew he wanted to break off the
whole operation and come away.”[42] On January 25 Lord Fisher took the
unusual course of writing to Mr. Asquith and stating his objections.
He considered the Dardanelles would divert from another large plan of
naval policy which he had in mind; further, that it was calculated to
dissipate our naval strength, and to risk the older ships (besides
the invaluable men) which formed our only reserve behind the Grand
Fleet.[43]
[Sidenote: MR. CHURCHILL’S INSISTENCE]
Mr. Churchill replied in a similar memorandum to the Prime Minister,
defending his Dardanelles plan on the plea of its value, even at a cost
which, after all, would be relatively small. In hope of obtaining some
agreement, Mr. Asquith invited Lord Fisher and Mr. Churchill to his
room just before the meeting of the War Council on January 28--the
second decisive meeting. After discussion, the Prime Minister expressed
his satisfaction with Mr. Churchill’s view, and all three proceeded
to the Council. It was a fairly full meeting, Sir Edward Grey and Mr.
Balfour being present, besides the three dominating members and the
experts. Mr. Churchill pressed his plan with eloquent enthusiasm. “He
was very keen on his own views,” said Sir Arthur Wilson in evidence;
“he kept on saying he could do it without the army; he only wanted
the army to come in and reap the fruits ... and I think he generally
minimised the risks from mobile guns, and treated it as if the armoured
ships were immune altogether from injury.”[44] Mr. Churchill re-stated
the political and strategic advantages of success. He said that the
Grand Duke Nicholas had replied with enthusiasm, and that the French
Admiralty had promised co-operation.[45] He said the Commander-in-Chief
in the Mediterranean believed it could be done in three weeks or a
month. The necessary ships were already on their way.
All the members of the War Council were won by these persuasive
arguments. They needed little persuasion, and no persuasion is so
strong as an enterprise begun. But Lord Fisher for once broke silence.
He said he had not supposed the matter would be raised that day, and
that the Prime Minister was well aware of his views. When he found
that a final decision was to be taken, he got up to leave the room,
intending to resign. But Lord Kitchener intercepted him, and taking him
to the window strongly urged him to remain, pointing out that he was
the only dissentient and it was his duty to carry on the work of his
office as First Sea Lord. Whereupon Lord Fisher reluctantly yielded to
the entreaty and returned to his seat.[46]
It is remarkable that at a meeting of such decisive moment no mention
was made of Lord Fisher’s memorandum, nor of Mr. Churchill’s reply,
nor of their conference with the Prime Minister an hour before. None
the less, not only Mr. Asquith and Mr. Churchill knew of Lord Fisher’s
opposition. Lord Kitchener knew of it; so did Sir Edward Grey. Yet
the opinion of the chief naval authority in England was overruled.
Mr. Asquith subsequently stated that “the whole naval expert opinion
available to us (the War Council), whether our own or the French, was
unanimously and consentiently in favour of this as a practical naval
operation. There was not one dissentient voice.” As to Lord Fisher, he
continued, it was quite true that he expressed on the morning of that
day an adverse, or at least an unfavourable opinion, but not upon the
ground of its merits or demerits from a technical naval point of view:
“Lord Fisher’s opinion and advice were not founded upon the naval
technical merits or demerits of this operation, but upon his avowed
preference for a wholly different objective in a totally different
sphere.”
No doubt Lord Fisher insisted mainly upon that different objective as
being the more important cause of his opposition. But it seems evident
that from the first he was also opposed to a merely naval attack and
bombardment. His letter to Mr. Churchill on January 2 (quoted above)
proves this. And so does the following clause in his memorandum to the
Prime Minister on January 25:
“The sole justification of coastal bombardments and attacks by
the fleet on fortified places, such as the contemplated prolonged
bombardment of the Dardanelles forts by our fleet, is to force a
decision at sea, and so far and no further can they be justified.”[47]
Yet, in this case, there was no suggestion or possibility of forcing a
decision at sea.
[Sidenote: LORD FISHER’S RELUCTANT ASSENT]
In the afternoon of the same day (January 28) Mr. Churchill had
a private interview with Lord Fisher, and “strongly urged him to
undertake the operation.” Lord Fisher definitely consented. Mr.
Churchill says that if he had failed to persuade him, there would
have been no need to altercate, or to resign, or even to argue. He
would have gone back to the War Council and told them they must either
appoint a new Board of Admiralty or abandon the project. “For the First
Sea Lord has to order the fleets to steam and the guns to fire.”[48]
Lord Fisher, on the other hand, insisted in evidence that he had taken
every step, short of resignation, to show his dislike of the proposed
operations; that the chief technical advisers of the Government ought
not to resign because their advice is not accepted, unless they think
the operations proposed must lead to disastrous results; and that the
attempt to force the Dardanelles as a purely naval operation would not
have been disastrous so long as the ships employed could be withdrawn
at any moment, and only such vessels were employed as could be spared
without detriment to the general service of the fleet.[49]
The divergence of opinion here is not so complete as it seems; for by
admitting that the War Council could have appointed a new Board of
Admiralty if Lord Fisher had refused to carry out their decision, Mr.
Churchill showed that, though the First Sea Lord could order the fleets
to steam and the guns to fire, the ultimate control did not lie with
him. The ultimate control lay with the Government (in this case the
War Council), and Lord Fisher was undoubtedly right in thinking his
constitutional duty consisted in carrying out the Council’s decisions
or resigning his office. He did not resign at this time, because he
thought the naval attack did not necessarily imply disaster. He agreed
to undertake the charge. He considered it his duty simply to carry out
the Council’s decision as best he could. With Mr. Churchill he attended
another Council meeting later in the afternoon, and there the fateful,
if not fatal, step was taken. It was decided that an attack should be
made by the fleet alone, with Constantinople as its objective.[50]
Though Lord Fisher agreed to do his best, and though the members of
the War Council accepted the plan with more or less enthusiasm, the
ultimate decision was arrived at owing to Mr. Churchill’s insistence
upon his own brilliant idea, and his resolve to attempt it even without
military aid. The Commissioners remark that in this resolve he was
carried away by his sanguine temperament and his firm belief in the
success of the undertaking which he advocated.[51] They were probably
right. But as evidence of the complexity in all natures--even in a
character apparently so self-confident, impetuous, and sanguine--we may
recall the passage in Mr. Churchill’s speech upon these events, where,
after referring to “the doubts and the misgivings which arise in every
breast when these great hazards of war are decided,” he went on to say:
“No one who has not had to take these decisions can know how serious
and painful are the stresses which search every man’s heart when
he knows that an order is going to be given as a result of which
great ships may be lost, great interests may be permanently ruined,
and hundreds or even thousands of men may be sent to their last
account.”[52]
[Sidenote: A NAVAL EXPEDITION DECREED]
If ever the heart of man was searched by serious and painful stress,
it may well have been in that Council chamber of January 28, 1915.
For then a decision was taken, and an order given, as a result of
which great ships were lost, great interests permanently ruined, and
thousands of men sent to their last account.