SARI BAIR
From the Nek, the Chessboard, and Baby 700, the main ridge or
mountain of Sari Bair rises steadily, like a great rounded shoulder,
to Battleship Hill (so called from an early naval bombardment), and
thence, after a long but slight depression, which from the sea looks
like a continuous ridge, rises again to the broad and massive front of
Chunuk Bair, about 850 feet in height. Towards the sea, the mountain
Chunuk shows an apparently precipitous face, split in the centre
by a cleft too steep to be called a watercourse. It is rather what
mountaineers mean by a “chimney.” But except on this actual face, the
mountain range is not so steep as it appears, nor so inaccessible,
being of softish sandstone mixed with marl, like the whole of the
district. Hard limestones, or the only formations which are called
“rock” by every one but geologists, are not found till one reaches the
genuinely rocky hill on the south side of Suvla Bay, and the still more
rocky edge on the north.
From Chunuk Bair the range continues its north-easterly trend, the
sky-line again showing a slight depression or dip till it rises to a
similar but lesser height, which we at first called “Nameless Hill,”
but more generally “Hill Q.” Beyond “Hill Q” the ridge is again
slightly lower and flattish along the summit till it is split across
unexpectedly by a precipitous ravine, which appears to cut sheer down
to a level of less than half the mountain’s height. Both sides of the
ravine are unusually steep and jagged, so that it would be impossible
for troops by continuing an advance along the sky-line of the ridge
to gain the highest summit, which rises steeply from the farther side
of the ravine. This summit, the crowning-point of the range gradually
rising, as we have seen, from the beach at Chatham Post, is Koja Chemen
Tepe, generally known as Hill 971 (its height in feet). The top, being
thrown back to the north-east, is invisible from Anzac, but plainly
seen from Imbros, the sea, and Suvla, dominating the region. The ravine
is not revealed till Suvla is reached.
These joint heights of Chunuk and “Hill Q,” together with the
disconnected height of Koja Chemen, were the first objectives in the
main attack of August 6 to 10. The ultimate objective remained as
before--the clearing of the Narrows by reaching Maidos, cutting the
Turkish communications with Achi Baba and Krithia over the Kilid Bahr
plateau, and dominating the forts on the Asiatic side. Some critics,
both at the time and since, have maintained that the ultimate objective
could better have been won by making the main attack from Suvla with
all available forces. But at the time, when many believed this to be
Sir Ian’s design, an advance from Suvla into the heart of the Peninsula
appeared to me impossible so long as the enemy held the Sari Bair range
as a perpetual threat to the right flank of our advancing columns;
and not merely the heart of the Peninsula, but the coast-line of the
Straits, would have to be reached before the enemy’s forces to the
south could be cut off. It is true that an advance from Anzac, or even
from Suvla, was partially threatened by forces on Kilid Bahr plateau.
But from Anzac the passage to the Straits was brief, and from Suvla
it was protected by Sari Bair itself, provided only that we held that
mountain range. Otherwise it was out of the question.
[Sidenote: THE NATURE OF THE COUNTRY]
So the objective of the main attack from Anzac was simple; but the
means of approach presented extraordinary difficulties. As at Anzac
itself, the front of the range breaks down to the sea in a crumbled and
complicated formation of edges, ridges, spurs, cliffs, and ravines,
the haphazard and perennial work of winter storms and rains acting
for ages upon soft sandstone and sandy deposits mixed with clay
and a little chalk. This labyrinthine region naturally follows the
north-easterly course of the hills out of which water has carved it,
leaving a gradually extending plain along the seacoast as far as the
low hills forming Nibrunesi Point, the southern extremity of Suvla
Bay. Sometimes at night small parties of chosen New Zealand officers
stole out to explore the labyrinth, and their reconnaissance was of
the highest value. But the district had never been surveyed, and the
tortuous watercourses, the unexpected cliffs and ravines, complicated
by almost impenetrable and spiky bush, threatened inextricable error to
any wanderer there, even by daylight and in peace. Imagine, then, the
perplexity of threading those unknown ways in a total darkness haunted
by the expectation of deadly fire at every turn in the ravines, from
the blackness of every thicket, and the edge of every cliff! One or
two Greek and Turkish guides were available, but employed without much
confidence.
For the better understanding of the great assault, the following points
in the geography might be remembered. Proceeding by the Long Sap,
then lately constructed, parallel with the seashore from Ari Burnu
northward, soon after passing No. 1 Post one crosses Sazli Beit Dere,
a dry watercourse on which the “Fishermen’s Huts” of the first landing
stood. About 600 yards farther on, after passing No. 2 and No. 3 Posts,
one reaches Chailak Dere, close to the mouth of which the “diviner”
discovered copious subterranean water, as previously described. Both
these Deres, or dry watercourses, run at right angles to the coast,
coming down from the fort of Chunuk Bair by devious, zigzag courses,
but generally parallel in direction, though the upper courses tend
to converge. The steep and lofty ground standing between the two
Deres is marked by the three points of Old No. 3 Post, Table Top, and
Rhododendron Spur, which runs up to the shoulder of Chunuk Bair itself.
Emerging from the Long Sap near the mouth of Chailak Dere, and
proceeding along the flats sheltered after this attack by a parapet
for about 1000 yards, one reaches the Aghyl Dere, which runs fairly
parallel with the other two in its lower course, but splits into two
Deres about a mile from the mouth, the right-hand tributary converging
rapidly with Chailak Dere, till they almost meet at the foot of Chunuk
Bair, the left-hand tributary bearing away north-east towards the foot
of Hill Q and Koja Chemen Tepe. The ground between Chailak Dere and
Aghyl Dere is chiefly marked by Bauchop’s Hill and Little Table Top.
At the source of Aghyl Dere’s southern tributary, high up the front of
the mountain, and just at the foot of Chunuk Bair’s precipitous cliff,
lies a small patch of cultivated ground, in that year yellow with corn
stubble, conspicuous from Suvla and the sea. A few brown sheds and a
sort of dwelling stood on the farther side. This was the Farm.
[Sidenote: THE MAIN WATERCOURSES]
Proceeding northward again along “Ocean Beach” from the mouth of Aghyl
Dere, one reaches a Dere commonly called Asmak, though it has other
names (Iram Chai or Kasa Dere). This is the main watercourse draining
the broad and open valley in which Biyuk (or Greater) Anafarta stands
in a beautiful grove of cypresses, about three and a half miles from
the sea. Several other Deres in the district are called “Asmak,” and it
is probable that the name “Asma,” by which we knew the main tributary
to this Dere, is really the same word. But, to keep the distinction,
the Asma Dere runs into the Asmak nearly a mile from the mouth, and
following its course, instead of going straight on to Biyuk Anafarta,
one proceeds by a wide arc southward till the foot of Koja Chemen is
reached. There one finds that the source is not far removed from the
source of the northern branch of the Aghyl Dere, since both drain the
highest section of the main ridge. The large space of ground thus
almost enclosed between the Aghyl Dere on the south and the Asmak and
Asma Deres beyond is singularly difficult and intricate. The low but
steep hills and cliffs are sharply intersected by ravines running in
every direction. The district is a jumble of sandy but hard mounds
and scarps and fissures, with here and there a narrow slip or tongue
of level ground running up among them. Few distinctive features mark
locality, but about a mile from the sea stands a mass of low hill or
broken plateau called Damakjelik Bair or Hill 40; and about another
two-thirds of a mile inland to the north-east, across a brief but steep
watercourse called Kaiajik Dere (another tributary to the Asmak),
rises a similar but slightly higher mass of low hill or broken plateau
called Kaiajik Aghala, soon to be famous as Hill 60. The Asma Dere runs
past the farther side of Hill 60, and beyond the Asma rises the steep,
long ridge of Abdel Rahman Bair, one of the main northern spurs or
buttresses of Koja Chemen itself.
This bare analysis of a difficult country covers the ground of the main
August attack, and the hills or watercourses named may serve as guides
to the comprehension of the obscure and desperate conflicts. But no
analysis or map or description can adequately express the roughness
and complexity of that desert jungle, the steepness of its cliffs and
spurs and edges, or the bewilderment of its dry watercourses, creeks,
fissures, and ravines. Neither in the British island nor in Ireland is
there a scene to compare with it, because in our islands the frequent
rain and prevailing moisture smooth off the edges, fill the ravines
with water, and cover even the crags with moss and ferns or grasses.
The nearest resemblance I have seen was in the crinkled hills and
cliffs upon the West Coast of Africa near Benguela. But there the
yellow spurs and ravines are absolutely bare. On the Sari Mountains,
parts of the lower slopes are concealed with the thick, prickly bush
so often mentioned; parts with low pines. The summits are coated with
thin grass and heath, while some of the ravines and sheltered spurs
were then brilliant with the crimson flowering oleander, which our
men called rhododendron, though it differs from the alien product
introduced as an embellishment into English parks.
[Sidenote: GENERAL GODLEY’S FORCE]
The design of the main attack was drawn by Brigadier-General A.
Skeen, the very able Chief of Staff at Anzac. It was accepted by
Lieut.-General Birdwood, and approved by Sir Ian. Its execution was
entrusted to Major-General Sir Alexander J. Godley, commanding the New
Zealand and Australian Division. It was a complicated scheme--perhaps
necessarily complicated owing to the intricacy of the ground, which
prevented the united action of large bodies of troops, and rendered
advance impossible except by thin columns sinuously winding up the
Deres like snakes. Accordingly, General Godley was compelled to divide
his troops. For the night attack of August 6–7 he divided them into
two columns--a right and a left--each column being subdivided into a
covering or advanced force, and an assaulting or main force. In Anzac
as a whole (Sir Ian in his dispatch tells us) the troops at General
Birdwood’s disposal amounted in round numbers to 37,000 rifles and 72
guns, with naval support from two cruisers, four monitors, and two
destroyers. Of these military forces the following contingents were
allotted to Major-General Godley for his enterprise:
His own New Zealand and Australian Division (less the 1st and 3rd Light
Horse Brigades, desperately engaged upon the Anzac heights and the
Nek, as we have seen);
The 13th Division under Major-General Shaw (less the 38th Brigade
allotted to Army Corps Reserve and two battalions of the 40th Brigade
at Anzac);
The 29th Indian Infantry Brigade (Major-General Cox);
The Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade (Lieut.-Colonel Parker, R.A.).
The Army Corps Reserve was the 29th Brigade, 10th Division (less one
battalion), the 38th Brigade, 13th Division, and two battalions of the
40th Brigade.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: HIS ARRANGEMENT OF THE FORCE]
For the approach and first assault General Godley divided this force as
follows, assigning to each of the four parts the objective mentioned
below:
(1) _Right Covering Force_--
Brigadier-General A. H. Russell, New Zealand Mounted Rifles--
New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, and
Wellington Regiments);
Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment (Divisional Troops);
New Zealand Engineers Field Troop;
The Maori Contingent (about 500 under Lieut.-Colonel A. H.
Herbert).
This force was to advance up Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres, and seize
Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, and Bauchop Hill.
(2) _Right Assaulting Column_--
Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston, New Zealand Infantry Brigade--
New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, Otago, and
Wellington Battalions);
26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);
No. 1 Company New Zealand Engineers.
This assaulting column was to follow the covering force up the Sazli
Beit and Chailak Deres, and push on to the attack of Chunuk Bair.
(3) _Left Covering Force_--
Brigadier-General J. H. du B. Travers, 40th Infantry Brigade--
Two Battalions of the 40th Infantry Brigade, _i.e._ 4th South
Wales Borderers and 5th Wiltshire;
Half the 72nd Field Company Royal Engineers.
This force was to occupy Damakjelik Bair so as to cover the advance up
Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the troops landing at Suvla.
(4) _Left Assaulting Column_--
Brigadier-General H. V. Cox, 29th Indian Infantry Brigade--
29th Indian Infantry Brigade (14th Sikhs, 5th, 6th, and 10th
Gurkha Rifles);
4th Australian Infantry Brigade (13th New South Wales, 14th
Victoria, 15th Queensland and Tasmania, 16th South and West
Australian Battalions);
21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);
No. 2 Company New Zealand Engineers.
This left assaulting column was to advance up the Aghyl Dere to the
attack on Koja Chemen (Hill 971), and at the same time to protect
the left flank of the whole force as soon as it had cleared its own
covering force.
The Divisional Reserve was made up of remaining battalions of the 13th
Division under Major-General F. C. Shaw, two battalions being stationed
at Chailak Dere, and the 39th Brigade at Aghyl Dere, with half the 72nd
Field Company R.E.
The total forces under General Godley’s command were estimated at about
12,000 men.[161]
* * * * *
For the sake of clearness, the ensuing movements may be divided into
four stages of about twenty-four hours each, counting from evening to
evening.
_Evening, August 6, to evening, August 7._
In the gathering darkness, about 9 p.m., on Friday, August 6, the whole
force mustered between No. 2 and No. 3 Posts, having marched out from
Anzac concealed by the shelter of the Long Sap. General Godley fixed
his headquarters at No. 2 Post, and here the main supply of ammunition
and water-cans was organised. The movements of the two covering forces
and the two assaulting columns may be followed in the order given
above, but it must be remembered that, in point of time, they were
frequently simultaneous. The first task of the Right Covering Force
(Brigadier-General Russell with his New Zealanders) was to clear the
Turkish positions which dominated the lower course of the Sazli Beit
and Chailak Deres--Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, between the Deres,
and Bauchop’s Hill on the farther side of Chailak.
[Illustration:
_Elliott & Fry_]
MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ALEXANDER GODLEY]
[Sidenote: OLD NO. 3 POST CAPTURED]
Old No. 3 Post is a steep and prominent hill, some 200 feet high,
which we occupied as an extreme outpost soon after the landing, but
lost on May 30, since when No. 3 Post, a similar but lower hill close
to the shore, had been held as outpost by Lieut.-Colonel Bauchop with
his Otago Mounted Rifles, other New Zealanders, and Maoris in turn.
Since the Turks had recovered the Old Post they had converted it into
a fortress of great strength, with entanglements, deep trenches, and
head cover of solid timber balks. For its recapture a successful ruse
was practised. For some weeks past, the destroyer _Colne_ (Commander
Claude Seymour) had turned a vivid searchlight on to the hill, and
bombarded it from 9 p.m. to 9.10 p.m. precisely, always repeating
both operations from 9.20 to 9.30. This regularity had persuaded the
Turks to regard the bombardment as a kind of Angelus or signal for a
consecrated interval during which it was permissible to retire from
the front trenches into the restful seclusion of tunnels and dug-outs.
When the rite concluded, an old Turk, naturally nicknamed Achmet, used
to trot round like a lamplighter, tying up the broken wires, and in a
friendly spirit the New Zealanders agreed not to shoot him.[162] But
now there was no more work for Achmet. Hidden beneath the blaze of
the searchlight during the second customary bombardment, the Auckland
Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Mackesy) stole across to the hill and climbed
to the very top of the trenches. The moment that the light was switched
off they were in among the Turks with bayonet and bomb (no rifle
cartridges were issued to the covering forces that night). They found
many Turks taking their ease in the cool of the evening, without coats
or boots. Seventy were captured. The rest died, or scurried away down
communication trenches. These trenches were not finally cleared till 11
p.m.
Meanwhile the attack on Big Table Top had far advanced. This hill,
so conspicuous from northern Anzac for its precipitous sides and a
flat top which appears even to overhang the sides, in reality forms
part of the same long spur as Old No. 3 Post, and is connected with
it by a ridge worn to a razor-edge by weather. The main hill, which
rises to about 400 feet, was heavily bombarded by howitzers from the
shore and by the _Colne_, as she turned her guns off the Old Post at
9.30. It appears probable that the destroyer _Chelmer_ (Commander
Hugh T. England) joined in this bombardment; at all events, for this
or other service she was coupled with the _Colne_ in dispatches. The
bombardment lasted half an hour, and at 10 p.m. the infantry assault
began upon a precipice steeper than the angle noted in text-books as
“impracticable for infantry.” The Canterbury Regiment led the way.
Impeded by rifles, fixed bayonets, packs, and other equipment, in
darkness lit only by stars, they scaled a height which appears as
precipitous as any overhanging English cliff, held by a brave and
religiously inspired enemy. Of this exploit Sir Ian in his dispatch
justly observes, “there are moments during battle when life becomes
intensified.” In such a moment the New Zealanders, some of whom
had practised mountain-climbing in the New Zealand Alps under such
mountaineers as Mr. Malcolm Ross, their correspondent, climbed that
seemingly inaccessible redoubt, more like a huge fortress tower than
a hill. Pulling themselves up by their arms, while their legs hung
in air, they stood upon the summit and stormed in upon the Turkish
defences. The surviving Turks escaped up a long communication trench
running across a narrow dip or Nek to the main Rhododendron Ridge, and
the second dominating height between the Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres
was won. The time was close upon midnight.
Whilst part of the covering force was thus victorious, the Otago
Mounted Rifles, with some Maoris, had been for a while checked in
attempting to penetrate up the Chailak Dere. Not more than a few
hundred yards up this watercourse (then no more watery than those
mounted troops were on horseback) the Turks had constructed an
enormously strong barricade of thick wire and beams, commanded by an
outpost only a few yards farther up. Right against this obstacle the
Otago men came. A sudden outburst of fire from the trench beyond cut
many down. They were so thick and close that no bullet which made its
way through the deep network of wires could miss. The cutters came
forward and began snipping the spiky ropes of iron. But many fell
before a party of New Zealand Engineers (Captain Shera) forced a narrow
passage. The advance up the Dere was thus delayed; but we who saw the
remains of that barricade after it was partially cleared know there was
nothing to choose between the heroism of those who cut the way through
and of those who scaled the Table Top.
[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF BAUCHOP’S HILL]
Perhaps owing to this delay, or perhaps by plan, the main body of Otago
Mounted Rifles did not follow up the Chailak Dere, but crossed it
near the mouth, and turning sharply to the right a little farther on,
advanced to assault the mass of low and complicated hill already known
as Bauchop’s owing to his reconnaissance. Nature and military art had
entrenched the position throughout, and it was intersected criss-cross
by deep ravines. But the Turks did not hold it strongly. Startled by
the Otago men, who worked round their right flank and attacked from the
north side, they began to clear out of the bivouacs in which they had
long lived in fairly comfortable leisure and were now surprised. At the
first assault, Lieut.-Colonel A. Bauchop, while shouting, “Come on,
boys! Charge!” fell mortally wounded by a bullet in the spine. The army
thus lost one of its most capable officers, and a man of exceptionally
attractive nature, who for months had commanded a position of great
risk and responsibility. The occupation of the hill or system of
ravines was completed just after 1 a.m. (August 7). The task set the
Right Covering Force was accomplished.
[Illustration: BIG TABLE TOP]
[Sidenote: CLIMBING OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]
Half an hour after midnight the Right Assaulting Column was thus
enabled to begin its advance up the two Deres. As above mentioned, its
main force was the New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General
F. E. Johnston). The Canterbury Battalion proceeded alone up the Sazli
Beit Dere, and met with small difficulty except from the nature of
the ground, which, indeed, was so intricate that half the battalion
lost its way and found itself back at the starting-point.[163] In
consequence, Colonel J. G. Hughes could not muster the battalion for
the ascent of the main spur (Rhododendron Ridge, at first called
Canterbury Ridge) till just before dawn. The other three battalions
(Otago, Auckland, and Wellington, in that order) advancing up the
Chailak Dere were equally hampered by the obscure and tangled country.
They also encountered violent opposition, which compelled the leading
battalion to deploy in the darkness. Some of the troops were told
off to assist the covering force on their left in finally clearing
Bauchop’s Hill and another smaller eminence known as Little Table
Top.[164] But pushing steadily forward, the three battalions
succeeded, though late, in joining up with the Canterbury Battalion on
the lower slopes of the main Rhododendron Ridge, which ran straight
up to the right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair, now deep purple
against the rising sun.
The attack upon this central height was to have been made before dawn.
It was late. Under increasing daylight, shrapnel began to spit and
shower overhead, striking with cross-fire from Battleship Hill and a
position on the left crest of Chunuk. The men were much exhausted.
They had accomplished a night march of extreme difficulty, exposed to
continuous perils and surprises. Nevertheless, the united battalions
struggled forward up the ridge, rough with every obstacle and rising
with a steep gradient. After a toilsome climb, at 8 a.m. they reached a
point (almost at once called the Mustard Plaster, but afterwards known
as the Apex) where a depression in the ridge afforded some slight cover
from the guns, and there they hurriedly entrenched a position. On the
left it hangs above the Farm, upon which the farthest end of it looks
steeply down. A narrow but uninterrupted Nek of some 400 or 500 yards
(roughly a quarter-mile) extends the ridge to the sky-line summit--the
right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair.
[Sidenote: THE ASMA DERE AND THE FARM]
Meantime, on the previous evening, the Left Covering Force
(Brigadier-General Travers) had followed so closely upon the heels of
the Right Covering Force along the shore that they had to pass through
them at the mouth of Chailak Dere. When clear, they proceeded straight
forward along the level to Aghyl Dere, though exposed to desultory fire
from Bauchop’s Hill, not yet fully occupied. Turning sharply up the
Dere, they emerged from it to the left and seized the entrenchments
on the confused heights of Damakjelik Bair with so impetuous a rush
that some Turkish officers were caught in the unsuspecting security
of pyjamas. In this attack the 4th South Wales Borderers (under
Lieut.-Colonel F. M. Gillespie, an exceptionally fine officer)
especially distinguished themselves, and by 1.30 a.m. the position was
securely held. The force was thus able to cover the advance of the
assaulting column up the Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the
Suvla landing farther north.
The Left Assaulting Column, consisting, as was mentioned, of the 4th
Australian Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General Monash) and the Indian
Brigade, the whole under command of Brigadier-General Cox, after
breaking from their permanent camp at the foot of the Sphinx, came at
once under a storm of shrapnel. They followed the Covering Force almost
too closely, and found themselves strongly opposed after advancing some
distance up the Aghyl Dere. General Monash threw out one battalion
as a screen, and progress was very slow, the intersecting ravines
making the ground almost impenetrable. At the confluence of the two
tributaries which form the main Dere, General Monash moved up the
northern fork, keeping two battalions well away to his left in the hope
of co-operating with the Suvla force in the projected assault upon Koja
Chemen Tepe. During this slow and obstructed advance, the Australians
discovered the emplacements of two “75’s,” which had long troubled
Anzac, where they were called “the Anafartas,” but the guns had been
hurried away. It was not till dawn that the brigade reached the ridge
above the upper reaches of the Asma Dere. There General Monash received
the order to concentrate the battalions, leave a guard for his present
position, and attack the towering height of Koja Chemen. The Sikh
Battalion of the Indian Brigade was sent up from the southern branch of
the Aghyl Dere in his support. But the enemy in front was now strong
and fully aroused. The Australians were exhausted by their toilsome
and hazardous march. No farther advance could be made, and the ridge
overlooking the Asma was hurriedly entrenched.
The remaining three Indian Battalions (Gurkha Rifles) persistently
clambered up the steep course of the Aghyl Dere’s southern fork, till
they reached a position facing the Farm. Their right thus came into
touch with the New Zealanders on Rhododendron Ridge, while their
centre and left stood ready to climb the steep front of the main range
and assault “Hill Q.” By about 9 a.m. (August 7) the whole force was
thus extended in a broken and irregular line from the upper slopes of
Rhododendron Ridge, past the front of the Farm, down the southern fork
of the Aghyl Dere, along the northern fork, and across the rugged
ground above the Asma Dere. The right flank rested on Anzac and held
the important positions of Old No. 3 Post and Table Top. The left
flank was guarded by Damakjelik Bair and by the division now landed at
Suvla, whose co-operation was counted upon. Except for a delay of about
three hours, all the movements had been carried out as designed. But
the Turks could now be seen swarming along the summits from Battleship
Hill. Every hour the heat was increasing to extreme intensity. General
Birdwood truly said in his report, “The troops had performed a feat
which is without parallel.” But by this feat they were now exhausted.
A general attempt to renew the attack was made at 9.30 a.m., but the
task was too heavy. About 11 a.m. again, the Auckland Battalion,
hitherto in reserve, bravely struggled up the narrow Nek (only some 40
yards broad), which, as described above, forms the end of Rhododendron
Ridge, connecting it with the summit. But they were swept by Turkish
guns apparently near “Hill Q,” and on reaching a Turkish trench only
about 200 yards from the top, they were driven back.[165] Orders were,
therefore, issued to both columns to strengthen and hold their present
positions with a view to further advance before dawn on the following
day. Meantime, supplies were sent up, so far as possible, from the
advanced base at No. 2 Post. As usual throughout the campaign, the
supply of water was the greatest need and the greatest difficulty, fine
as was the conduct of the Indian drivers of water mules. The convoys
were also continually exposed to shrapnel from the heights, and to the
rifle-fire of snipers still lurking in large numbers invisible among
the bushes and ravines of the wide stretch of country occupied during
the night.
_From the evening of August 7 to the evening of August 8._
[Sidenote: RE-ARRANGEMENT FOR AUGUST 8]
During the evening both of the Assaulting Columns were reinforced. The
Right Column (Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston) received the Auckland
Mounted Rifles and the Maori contingent from the Right Covering Force,
together with two battalions (8th Welsh Pioneers and 7th Gloucesters)
from the 13th Division in reserve. The Left Assaulting Column
(Brigadier-General H. V. Cox) received three battalions from the 39th
Brigade, 13th Division (9th R. Warwicks, 9th Worcesters, and 7th North
Staffords, the 7th Gloucesters going to the Right Column, as above),
together with the 6th South Lancashire (38th Brigade). The Right
Column was to proceed with the attack on Chunuk Bair; the Left Column
to assault “Hill Q” in the centre, and with its left to work round
north-east to the steep ridge called Abdel Rahman Bair for an assault
upon Koja Chemen Tepe.
[Sidenote: THE SUMMIT OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]
Before daylight on Sunday, August 8, the edge of the heights from
Battleship Hill to “Hill Q” was heavily bombarded by monitors and
cruisers, together with the batteries on the flats. At the first dawn
(4.15) a column, led by Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Malone, the hero of
Quinn’s Post, with his accustomed enthusiasm, dashed up the steep and
narrow slope to the summit of Rhododendron Ridge. Colonel Malone’s own
Wellington Battalion went first. The 7th Gloucesters closely followed.
The Auckland Mounted Rifles and Welsh Pioneers came in support. The
Wellingtons reached the actual top of the ridge. They sprang into a
long Turkish communication trench, which they found empty but for an
isolated party with a machine-gun just arrived from Achi Baba. They
spread out towards the right. Immediately on their left, two companies
of the Gloucesters also reached the summit, and sprang into the trench.
Against the sunrise their figures could be dimly discerned from the
sea, and the hope of victory rose high. Two other Gloucester Companies
swung slightly to the right and entrenched below the sky-line in rear
of the Wellingtons. But during the rush the Gloucesters had been
exposed to a terrible storm of shrapnel and rifle-fire coming from the
higher ground northward on their left, and were already much reduced.
As often happens in a charge, the supports came under a heavier fire
than the first lines, and though the Auckland Mounted Rifles got
through and joined the Wellingtons, it was not till the afternoon. The
remainder appear to have been checked.[166]
In the meantime the position of the British and New Zealanders upon the
summit was indeed terrible. Perceiving how small their numbers were,
the Turks turned every kind of fire upon the trench. Large parties of
them kept creeping up the trench itself from the right or southern
end, and hurling bombs. So exposed was the position that Colonel Malone
drew his men out of the trench, and marked out a fresh trench 15 yards
in rear of it. Here they dug; but tools were short, bombs were short,
and water had run out. The trench was less than a foot deep. On the
left, the Gloucester companies were almost annihilated. Attack after
attack swept up against them. Every officer was killed or wounded. In
his dispatch, Sir Ian says that by midday the battalion (apparently the
other two companies had by that time come into line) consisted of small
groups of men commanded by junior non-commissioned officers or privates.
“Chapter and verse,” he adds, “may be quoted for the view that the
rank and file of an army cannot long endure the strain of close
hand-to-hand fighting unless they are given confidence by the example
of good officers. Yet here is at least one instance where a battalion
of the New Army fought right on, from midday till sunset, without
_any_ officers.”
In a few hours Colonel Malone was compelled to withdraw again to a new
trench a few yards to the rear, because the trench recently dug was
too full of dead and dying to give the slightest cover. He himself,
as was told me by one present, carried a rifle pierced with bullets,
which he said he was keeping as a trophy for his home. Whilst he was
still carefully marking the completion of the new trench, sedulously
cultivating the domestic virtues to the last, a terrific outburst of
shrapnel showered down upon his devoted party, and he fell. It was
about 4 p.m., just after the Auckland Mounted Rifles had succeeded
in reaching the position. At 5 o’clock he died. Colonel Moore of the
Otago Battalion succeeded him, but was wounded during the night while
the dwindling force still clung to the position, and the south-west
shoulder of Chunuk Bair was ours--was uncertainly ours.
In the centre, around the Farm at the foot of the precipitous front
of Chunuk Bair, the remaining three battalions of the 39th Brigade
attempted to advance up the mountain side by keeping to the right or
south of the cultivated yellow patch and empty buildings. Similarly,
on the left or north-east side, the three Gurkha battalions crept some
distance up the spurs leading to the dip or saddle between Chunuk Bair
and “Hill Q.” This advance served them well on the following day, but
on the Sunday the proposed attack upon this section of the summit line
came to nothing owing to the murderous fire poured upon both attempts.
[Sidenote: ATTEMPT AT ABDEL RAHMAN]
On the same Sunday (August 8) the extreme left of Brigadier-General
Cox’s assaulting columns was under orders, as mentioned, to attack the
dominating height of Koja Chemen Tepe itself by way of the precipitous
northern ridge or spur called Abdel Rahman Bair. The advance began in
darkness at 3 a.m. Leaving the 13th (New South Wales) Battalion to hold
the ridge overlooking Asma Dere and now entrenched, Brigadier-General
Monash placed the 15th (Queensland and Tasmania, under Lieut.-Colonel
Cannan) Battalion of his 4th Australian Brigade in front, the 14th
(Victoria, under Major Rankine) and the 16th (S. and W. Australia,
under Lieut.-Colonel Pope) following closely. Sliding down the steep
descent of sandstone rock from the top of their ridge, the men formed
up into column in the valley of Asma Dere below, and cautiously
advanced, avoiding a field of standing wheat lest the rustle should
arouse the enemy. They had not gone far over the rough and pathless
waste when a few shots and dimly discerned figures hastening away
showed that they had struck into the enemy’s outposts. The 15th
Battalion accordingly deployed, and threw a platoon forward as a
screen. Thus the advance was continued for about half a mile, when the
dark mass of Abdel Rahman was seen against the gradually increasing
light, running like a vast barrier straight across their course.
Hardly had their right touched the first slopes when an overwhelming
machine-gun and rifle-fire burst upon them from the whole length of the
front. All three battalions deployed into platoons, and attempted to
continue the advance in spite of continuous loss. A screen was thrown
out to protect the left flank, which hung “in air,” exposed to attack
from Biyuk Anafarta valley and any guns there chanced to be on Ismail
Oglu Tepe (“W Hill”) beyond it.[167] If only the Divisions landed at
Suvla had seized that vital hill! Now if ever was their support called
for. But no help came. The platoons struggled up the steep bastions
of the ridge in their attempt to scale the height. But the fire was
impenetrable: the deaths too numerous. It appears that the brigade had,
in fact, fallen up against strong Turkish reinforcements coming from
Biyuk Anafarta to the main range. Sir Ian’s dispatch describes the
battalions as “virtually surrounded.” Overwhelmed, at all events, by
numbers and forced into an untenable position, they had no choice but
to hew their way back. Their loss was already 1000--more than a third
of their force. Grimly they retired, bringing their wounded in. By 9
a.m. they were back behind the ridge they had entrenched the night
before. There, though exhausted by heat, thirst, and the weariness of
prolonged effort without sleep, they maintained themselves for the rest
of the day against violent and repeated attacks.
That Sunday evening the Right Assaulting Column lay upon Rhododendron
Ridge, the main body partially sheltered in the depression afterwards
called the Apex, and the relics of three battalions clinging to the top
where it reaches the summit of the Chunuk Bair right shoulder. The Left
Assaulting Column was divided, part round the Farm and high upon its
north-east ridges, part entrenched but heavily attacked upon the ridge
overlooking Asma Dere.
_From the evening of August 8 to the evening of August 9._
[Sidenote: BALDWIN’S COLUMN ON AUGUST 9]
For the renewed attack next morning, a third assaulting column was
organised out of the 10th and 13th Divisions in the Army Corps reserve.
Brigadier-General A. H. Baldwin (38th Brigade) was instructed to
take two battalions of his own brigade (6th East Lancashire and 6th
Loyal North Lancashire) together with two from the 29th Brigade (10th
Hampshire and 6th Royal Irish Rifles) and one from the 40th Brigade
(5th Wiltshire), and assemble in the evening of August 8 in the
Chailak Dere. Advancing thence through the night, he was to follow up
Rhododendron Ridge, and co-operating with the Right Assaulting Column
(General Johnston’s) was to move in successive lines to the summit,
and thence to the left towards “Hill Q.” This was to form the main
attack of the day. General Baldwin sent the Loyal North Lancashires
forward in advance, and with the remaining four battalions began the
long and toilsome march upward. The track was by this time fairly well
trodden, and every precaution was taken to keep it clear of wounded and
“empties” coming down. Guides for the column were also provided. It
is true, the night was pitch dark, the ascent rough and, towards the
end, very steep. The column moved slowly, and was behind the appointed
time; but it is difficult to imagine that, in Sir Ian’s words, “in
plain English, Baldwin lost his way--through no fault of his own.” It
was sunrise by the time the main ascent was reached. His column would
be perfectly visible to the enemy’s artillery, and the fire was very
heavy. Perhaps the officers were attracted by the Farm as a sheltered
place in which to pause and reorganise. At all events, the column did
not reach its appointed destination, but found itself at 5.15 a.m. down
in the deep hollow of the Farm on the left of the ridge which it should
have climbed to the Apex. The Farm, being a definite point visible for
miles around owing to its patch of yellow stubble, and affording also a
certain amount of cover against fire from the height, probably tended
to attract or mislead guides and troops from their proper direction.
[Sidenote: SUMMIT NEAR HILL Q STORMED]
Just at the very time when General Baldwin’s brigade began at last
to emerge upon the Farm, a tragic and much disputed scene was being
enacted upon the summit far above them. On the previous day, as we
have noticed, part of General Cox’s column had worked their way up
the spurs on the left (north-east) of the Farm. During the night they
pushed still farther up the height, which, as noticed, appears almost
precipitous. The 6th Gurkhas were leading, under command of Major Cecil
G. L. Allanson. The 6th South Lancashires (38th Brigade) were close
behind, supported by the 9th Warwicks and 7th North Staffords (39th
Brigade), sent up to reinforce this column on the night of August 7–8,
as above mentioned. The Gurkhas climbed during the darkness to a line
about 150 yards below the crest. Here they dug what trench or shelter
was possible upon such an angle of slope, and two companies of the
South Lancashires joined them. At early dawn, about 4.30, the warships,
monitors, and guns along the shore began a terrible bombardment of the
whole crest along Chunuk Bair, “Hill Q,” and the saddle between. The
enormous shells burst upon the edge just above the small assaulting
party which crouched below, almost deafened but unharmed. A monitor’s
shell striking the sky-line flings up a spout of black smoke, huge
fragments, and dust which spreads fan-shape like the explosion of a
sudden volcano. With such explosions the whole mountain edge smoked and
shook. All parapets and shallow trenches lining the top were torn to
pieces, uprooted, and flattened out. It seemed impossible for any human
being to endure so overwhelming a visitation or to remain alive. Yet
Turks remained.
According to orders, this terrific bombardment was to be switched off
on to the flanks and reverse slopes at 5.16 a.m.[168] The moment came.
Suddenly the guns were silent. It was the signal for the storming
party. The little Gurkha mountaineers crawled up the precipice like
flies. The South Lancashire crawled, mixed up among them. They reached
the topmost edge. Hand to hand the Turks rushed upon them as they rose.
The struggle was for life or death. Major Allanson was wounded. Men
and officers fell together. But the fight was brief. Shaken by the
bombardment, overcome in daring and activity by some 400 startling
Gurkhas and solid Lancastrians, the surviving Turks suddenly turned and
ran for life down the steep slope to the refuge of the steeper gullies
below.
For a moment Major Allanson and his men paused to draw breath. They
were standing on the saddle between Chunuk Bair and “Hill Q.” The dead
lay thick around them. But below, straight in front, lit by the risen
sun, like a white serpent sliding between the purple shores, ran the
sea, the Narrows, the Dardanelles, the aim and object of all these
battles and sudden deaths. Never since Xenophon’s Ten Thousand cried
“The sea! the sea!” had sight been more welcome to a soldier’s eyes.
There went the ships. There were the transports bringing new troops
over from Asia. There ran the road to Maidos, though the town of Maidos
was just hidden by the hill before it. There was the Krithia road.
Motor-lorries moved along it carrying shells and supplies to Achi Baba.
So Sir Ian had been right. General Birdwood had been right. This was
the path to victory. Only hold that summit and victory is ours. The
Straits are opened. A conquered Turkey and a friendly Bulgaria will bar
the German path to the East. Peace will come back again, and the most
brilliant strategic conception in the war will be justified.
In triumphant enthusiasm, Gurkhas and Lancastrians raced and leapt down
the reverse slope, pursuing the Turks as they scattered and ran. Major
Allanson, though wounded, himself raced with them. They fired as they
went. It was a moment of supreme exultation. Suddenly, before they had
gone a hundred yards, crash into the midst of them fell five or six
large shells and exploded. In the words of Sir Ian’s dispatch: “Instead
of Baldwin’s support came suddenly a salvo of heavy shell.”
[Sidenote: WHENCE CAME THE DISASTROUS SHELLS?]
Where those fatal shells came from was at the time, and still remains,
a cause of bitter controversy. All on the summit believed them British.
This may have been a mistake. It is a common error for an advance line
to suppose it is being shelled by its own side. But probably the shells
were British. Outside the navy, nearly every one at the time believed
them to be naval,[169] and though the range must have been some four
or five miles, the accuracy of the naval shooting at a visible mark had
been proved by that morning’s bombardment, over the same distance. But
the general belief may have been founded on a mere suspicion constantly
repeated. It has long appeared to me that two sentences in Sir Ian’s
dispatch suggest a more probable explanation. As quoted above, he says
the orders were for the bombardment to be switched on to the flanks
and reverse slopes of the heights at 5.16 a.m. He further says that
the Gurkhas and South Lancashires, after reaching the crest, “began to
attack down the far side of it,” _i.e._ down the reverse slopes of the
hill. It would be natural for our gunners to wait some minutes before
bombarding the reverse slope, so as to catch the enemy retreating
or reinforcements coming up. In any case, they were under orders to
bombard the reverse slope, and they obeyed. But what guns could bombard
a reverse slope? As was proved throughout the campaign, the trajectory
of naval guns was so flat that either they hit the top of the mountain
(as they almost invariably did) or their shells skimmed across the top
to burst miles away in Asia. A reverse slope would be exactly the thing
they could never hit. For a reverse slope, mortars or howitzers are
wanted. There were howitzers near No. 2 Post and along the flats beside
the shore, and their orders were to bombard the reverse slope after
5.16 a.m. This explanation is suggested, but the controversy will be
forgotten before settled.
Whatever the cause, the effect was disaster irretrievable--disaster
leaving its lamentable mark upon the world’s history. Amid the
scattered limbs and shattered bodies of their comrades, the exultant
pursuers stopped aghast. They began to stumble back. They scrambled to
the crest and over it. Major Allanson with a small group stood firm,
taking one last look upon that scene of dazzling hope. But the Turkish
officers with the supports had observed the check. Seizing the moment,
they urged their fresh companies upward, in turn pursuing. Against the
gathering crowd a handful could not stand. Wounded and isolated, Major
Allanson withdrew the last of his men. Down the face of the mountain
they came upon the little trench from which they had adventurously
started less than half an hour before. They alone had witnessed and
shared the crisis. They alone had watched the moment when the campaign
swung upon the fateful hinge. No soldier in our army was ever to behold
that triumphant prospect again.[170]
Why the troops who were a little lower down the slope, in support, did
not at once push up to the assistance of the Gurkhas and Lancastrians
on the summit has not been explained. They belonged to the New Army,
and were rushed into a most difficult and terrible conflict. It was
Monday morning, and they had been given little sleep since Saturday,
and little if any food or water except in the rations and water-bottles
(1½ pint) which they brought with them. No doubt they were exhausted.
But every one was exhausted, and others had been out longer in the
assaulting column. One might have supposed that here their great
opportunity had come. Why they did not take it, we are not informed.
[Sidenote: TURKS RECAPTURE THE SUMMIT]
It was in vain now that General Baldwin’s brigade, arriving at the Farm
at the very crisis of frustrated design, began to push up the steep
with the 10th Hants and two companies of the 6th East Lancashires. They
appear to have attempted a spur nearer the Farm than the point where
the Gurkhas climbed, which was half a mile away to the left. But they
made little progress. The Turks, crowding the summit, now exultant in
their turn, poured down such storms of fire that the new advance was
checked, and General Baldwin was compelled to order re-concentration at
the Farm, where the brigade remained.
The Turks in their triumph, though not daring as yet to advance far
over the crest, turned in exultant assault upon the exhausted body of
New Zealanders and Gloucesters still lying exposed near the summit of
the Chunuk Bair shoulder, just to the right of the Nek on Rhododendron
Ridge, up which Baldwin’s brigade ought to have advanced at dawn. About
800 men still clung to the shallow and hastily constructed trenches
there. They lay unprotected by wire, and below the sky-line, so that
when the enemy came swarming over the summit with bayonet or bomb, our
rifles had only some twenty or thirty yards’ interval in which to mow
them down. This mistake in position was thought at the time to spring
from a memory of old South African tactics, in which the sky-line was
always avoided. But we have seen the reasons why Colonel Malone had
been compelled twice to remove the trenches a few yards farther from
the top.
Through the heat of the day and afternoon the men lay there
resisting repeated onset. Late on that Monday evening, they were at
last withdrawn and relieved. The New Zealanders had been fighting
continuously and under extreme strain since Friday night; the
Gloucesters since Saturday. The noblest endurance could stand no more.
The 6th Loyal North Lancashires (38th Brigade) and the 5th Wilts (40th
Brigade) were sent up to occupy the extreme position which had been so
steadfastly retained.
_From the evening of August 9 to the evening of August 10._
No more than these two battalions were ordered because, in Sir Ian’s
words, “General Sir William Birdwood is emphatic on the point that the
nature of the ground was such that there was no room on the crest for
more than this body of 800 to 1000 rifles.” Had Major Allanson been
able to hold his splendidly won position to the right of “Hill Q,” the
whole crest of Chunuk Bair would have been free for our occupation. Had
the expected advance from Suvla been pushed forward with vigour between
August 7 and 9, the Turks could not have concentrated forces for the
fatal counter-attack upon Chunuk Bair on the 10th. Those two failures
combined to frustrate the admirably designed movement of August, and
ultimately involved the whole campaign in failure.
As it was, the 6th Loyal Lancashires passed up the Rhododendron Ridge
in good time during the night, and duly occupied the trenches near the
summit as the New Zealanders and Gloucesters were withdrawn. Their
commandant, Lieut.-Colonel H. G. Levinge, even attempted to improve
the position by throwing out observation posts to the sky-line, so
as to command the reverse slope. The 5th Wiltshire (Lieut.-Colonel
J. Carden), delayed by the difficulties of the steep and encumbered
ascent, did not arrive till 4 a.m., just as dawn was breaking, and lay
down in a position believed to be covered but really exposed.
[Sidenote: LANCASHIRES AND WILTSHIRES DESTROYED]
Hardly had they settled down when every available Turkish gun was
turned upon the two weak and harassed battalions. The bombardment
was endured for about an hour, and then, at 5.30 a.m., the Turks
under German leaders directed an overwhelming counter-attack upon the
devoted New Army men. For this attack they were able to employ a full
Division and three extra battalions, certainly not less than 12,000
men, probably more. Crouching in their unfortunate positions, our two
battalions were engulfed or swept away, as by an irresistible tide.
They were driven from their shallow and hurriedly constructed trenches.
Both their Colonels were killed. The Wiltshires were “literally almost
annihilated.”[171]
Recognising the significance of the summit’s reoccupation, and
triumphant as never before, the Turks swarmed over the edge down
into the deep gullies on the right or south of Rhododendron Ridge,
probably with the design of cutting our assaulting columns off from
the base at Anzac and encircling them to destruction. This threatening
movement was checked partly by the battalions in support upon the
Ridge itself, but mainly by the naval guns (now secure of a visible
target), the New Zealand, Australian, and Indian guns, and the 69th
Brigade R.F.A. The service of a ten machine-gun battery, part of the
New Zealand Machine-gun Section organised and commanded by Major J.
Wallingford (Auckland Battalion),[172] was the subject of great eulogy
at the time. This battery “played upon their serried ranks at close
range until the barrels were red-hot. Enormous losses were inflicted,
especially by these ten machine-guns.”[173] Reinforcements hurrying
along the sky-line from Battleship Hill were similarly exposed to the
larger guns. Brave as the Turks showed themselves in this their hour
of apparent triumph, they could make no progress against so violent a
storm of destruction. The attack melted away. Few struggled back into
safety over the summit, and the right flank of our columns was secured.
[Sidenote: THE FIGHTING AT THE FARM]
Simultaneously with the onset which overwhelmed our two battalions
on the summit, the Turks appearing in similar massed lines along the
sky-line of Chunuk Bair itself and the saddle between that and “Hill
Q,” began to pour down the face of the range. They must have swept over
the thin defences which had sheltered the 6th Gurkhas. They broke
through the outposts of General Baldwin’s central column. They broke
through our line at various points. They reached the Farm. Some of our
companies were driven in confusion down the tangled spurs and ravines.
Near the foot of the mountain they were finely rallied by Staff-Captain
Street, who was looking after the supply of food and water. By sheer
force of personality, he led them unhesitatingly back into the thick of
the intense conflict upon that conspicuous stubble-field. In Sir Ian’s
words:
“It was a series of struggles in which Generals fought in the ranks
and men dropped their scientific weapons and caught one another by
the throat. So desperate a battle cannot be described. The Turks came
on again and again, fighting magnificently, calling upon the name of
God. Our men stood to it, and maintained, by many a deed of daring,
the old traditions of their race. There was no flinching. They died
in the ranks where they stood.”
Here fell General Baldwin, whom I had known first as a Captain in
the 1st Manchesters on Cæsar’s Hill in Ladysmith, and later in the
lines at Helles. As in some medieval battle, all his Staff fell with
him. Lieut.-Colonel M. H. Nunn, 9th Worcesters, was killed. The
Worcesters were left that day without a single officer. So were the
Warwicks. So, as we have seen, were the Gloucesters. At the Farm
also Brigadier-General Cooper (29th Brigade) was severely wounded.
Brigadier-General Cayley (39th Brigade) was mentioned for distinguished
courage. The Farm, though recovered that day, was ultimately abandoned
to the Turks, who drove an enormous trench across the stubble-field,
and entangled the whole front with wire. But to the end the shrunken
relics of the dead who fell that morning remained in lines and heaps
upon the ground.
Hearing of the violent and almost successful counter-attack, General
Birdwood hurried up the last two battalions of his Corps Reserve--the
5th Connaught Rangers (29th Brigade) being one.[174] But by 10 a.m. the
immediate danger was over. The force of the attack was spent. The few
surviving Turks began to scramble back over the summit. As Captain Bean
wrote at the time:
“A few Turks could still be seen at about two o’clock, hopping
desperately into any cover that suggested itself. Out of at least
three or four thousand who came over the ridge only twos and threes
got back--probably not five hundred in all. But the attack had one
result. It had driven the garrison down from the trenches which
Wellington and the Gloucesters had won on the summit of Chunuk Bair,
and back on to the high spur 500 yards distant which New Zealand
had won the first night. The lines were now beginning to coagulate
into the two settled rows of opposing trenches in which every modern
battle seems to end.”
The Turks cleared the dead from the summit by dropping them over the
edge at the highest point of Chunuk Bair, and letting them slide down
that precipitous ravine or “chimney” which was mentioned above. To the
end of the campaign that chimney was black with corpses and uniforms,
weathered and wasting between the rocky sides.
Far away to the left, on the low but deeply intersected hills and
ridges overlooking the Asma Dere, General Monash’s 4th Australian
Brigade and the 4th South Wales Borderers were also compelled on the
morning and afternoon of the same day (August 10) to resist violent
counter-attacks coming across from the Abdel Rahman spur. They held
their position, but the South Wales Borderers lost their commandant,
the excellent soldier, Lieut.-Colonel Gillespie, who left his name on
part of the district he had helped to win.
[Sidenote: OUR LOSSES]
The total casualties in General Birdwood’s Army Corps from the Friday
night to the Tuesday night amounted to 12,000,[175] by far the greater
proportion of whom were lost in General Godley’s two divisions allotted
for the main attack on Sari Bair. The gallantry and skill of divisions
cannot be estimated by losses. But still it is noticeable that the
New Army Division (13th, under Major-General Shaw) lost more than 50
per cent. (6000 out of 10,500), and 10 commanding officers out of 13.
The proportion of officers killed and wounded was, indeed, unusually
high in all brigades. As to the troops in general, perhaps only those
who are well acquainted with the extreme complexity of the country,
and with the strain of night marches into the heart of an enemy’s
positions, followed by assaults upon strongly held mountain heights at
dawn, can fully appreciate the true significance of the last paragraph
in General Godley’s report, as quoted in Sir Ian’s dispatch:
“I cannot close my report without placing on record my unbounded
admiration of the work performed, and the gallantry displayed, by the
troops and their leaders during the severe fighting involved in these
operations. Though the Australian, New Zealand, and Indian units had
been confined to trench duty in a cramped space for some four months,
and though the troops of the New Armies had only just landed from a
sea voyage, and many of them had not been previously under fire, I
do not believe that any troops in the world could have accomplished
more. All ranks vied with one another in the performance of gallant
deeds, and more than worthily upheld the best traditions of the
British Army.”
[Illustration: VIEW OF OCEAN BEACH, LOOKING TOWARDS SUVLA BAY (END OF
AUGUST)]
[Sidenote: THE FAILURE AND ITS CAUSES]
In his dispatch, Sir Ian mentions that at times he thought of throwing
his reserves (the 53rd and 54th Divisions, coming up through Mudros)
into this central battle. He thinks they probably would have turned
the scale. The Corps and Divisional Commanders assured him there was
no room for additional troops. But it was the water difficulty, he
says, which made him give up the idea. The thirst of the troops in
this part of the general attack was such that when the mules with
the water “pakhals” arrived at the front, the men rushed up to them
just to lick the moisture oozing through the canvas bags. Thirst is
the most terrible of physical sufferings, and no one who has known it
will wonder at Sir Ian’s decision. Still the want of water was almost
equally cruel at Suvla, whither the Reserve Divisions were ultimately
sent. There they arrived after the decisive days were passed, and fell
under the curse of an inert spirit, very different from the spirit
of the Sari Bair assault. If their presence at Anzac would indeed
have turned the scale, it is part of the Dardanelles tragedy that the
Commander-in-Chief, unable to foresee the Suvla conditions, or still
hoping too much from the new landing there, did not venture upon the
risk, however dangerous.
For in spite of all the gallantry and endurance (which Napoleon counted
a more essential quality in a soldier than courage), and in spite of
all the careful organisation of supply and medical care, the main
attack had failed by sunset of Tuesday, August 10. A large extent of
ground had been occupied. From Rhododendron Ridge on the right to Asma
Dere on the left, and all between those two points and the sea, the
country was now in our possession. Anzac was enlarged from barely 300
acres to about 8 square miles.[176] It was possible now to walk or ride
from Anzac to Suvla Bay, though snipers always endangered the route.
Yet the attack had failed. The summits of Sari Bair were not held. The
Straits were still closed; Constantinople still distant. Mistakes,
no doubt, had been made, but mistakes could have been retrieved. The
ultimate cause of failure was simply this: our attacking forces were
outnumbered and checked by an enemy holding positions of enormous
natural strength, and the task of diverting and reducing the enemy’s
force from Suvla, or of actually contributing new troops thence to the
central movement, was not fulfilled.