CHAPTER XV

THE FIFTH ACT

The departure of a Commander-in-Chief acts upon an army like sudden

heart disease in a man, or the collapse of a ship’s steering-gear. All

is at once bewilderment and uncertainty. A sense of loss and change and

failure pervades all ranks. The daily routine appears hardly worth the

trouble of accurate performance, and for enterprise no spirit is left.

This is so, even when the General stands aloof and regards his men with

small esteem, as was Wellington’s way; but the depression is increased

when the recall removes one who is by nature tempted to companionship

in action, and who, at the lowest ebb of fortune, stands always ready

with the encouraging word and the outwardly serene aspect of hope.

[Sidenote: GENERAL MONRO’S REPORT]

In General Birdwood, it is true, such another leader was found. His

adventurous and sunny spirit, always alert, free of intercourse,

and incapable of depression, made him accepted as Sir Ian’s natural

successor by all except the few whose minds were set immovably towards

despair. Yet, in spite of this well-justified confidence, the mere

fact of the change suggested speculation upon other changes, and the

pulse of action flagged, as though paralysed by uncertainty. In this

condition General Sir Charles Monro found the army when, after two

days spent in the Headquarters at Imbros, he visited the Peninsula

on October 30. He was a man of fifty-five, who before the war had

performed the services usual to an officer of that period in South

Africa, India, and at home. During the war he had won reputation in

high command on the Western Front. The Government had sent him out

with a view to obtaining the report of an unbiased opinion, and by

appointing a General from the Western Front, and a man of opposite

temperament to his predecessor’s, they had ensured themselves against

any possible bias, at all events in one direction. His orders were

to report upon the military situation; to give an opinion whether

on purely military grounds the Peninsula should be evacuated; and,

otherwise, to estimate the troops required (1) to carry the Peninsula,

(2) to keep the Straits open, and (3) to take Constantinople.[226]

Upon all these points General Monro formed a rapid and decisive

opinion. He represented the military situation as unique in history,

and in every respect unfavourable. The Force, he maintained, held

a line possessing every possible military defect. The position was

without depth, the communications insecure and dependent on weather,

the entrenchments dominated almost throughout by the enemy, the

possible artillery positions insufficient and defective, whereas the

enemy enjoyed full powers of observation, abundant artillery positions

and opportunity to supplement the natural advantages by all the devices

of engineering. For the troops, they could not be withdrawn to rest

out of the shell-swept area, because every corner of the Peninsula

was exposed; they were much enervated by the endemic diseases of

the summer; there was a grave dearth of competent officers; and the

Territorial Divisions had been augmented by makeshifts in the form of

Yeomanry and Mounted Brigades. As to military objects, the Turks could

hold the army in front with a small force; an advance could not be

regarded as a reasonable operation to expect; and any idea of capturing

Constantinople was quite out of the question. These considerations, in

General Monro’s opinion, made it urgent to divert the troops locked up

on the Peninsula to a more useful theatre, and convinced him that a

complete evacuation was the only wise course to pursue.[227]

[Sidenote: THE ADVOCATES OF EVACUATION]

About that judgment there was, at all events, no hesitating

ambiguity. Having condemned the whole expedition, root and branch,

the General was obviously not called upon to discuss such minor

details as reinforcements, or the reports of Turkish exhaustion and

demoralisation, or the exact “theatre” in which the army would be

likely to immobilise so large a Turkish force (Mr. Asquith estimated

it as 200,000),[228] and restrain them from co-operating in further

assaults upon Mesopotamia or Egypt. To be sure, there was Salonika as a

possible alternative; but Sir Charles Monro must have been aware that

Serbia was by that time past saving, and that the transference of the

Gallipoli army to Salonika would simply relieve Turkey of all anxiety

and restraint. The probable loss of prestige and of men involved in

the evacuation does not appear to have influenced his decision;

and, indeed, as the event afterwards proved, the loss in both was

vastly overestimated by the advocates of evacuation as well as by its

opponents.

The report was, naturally, grateful to such of the Generals on the

spot and such of Sir Ian’s former Staff as had already abandoned hope.

Some, indeed, were now of opinion that the evacuation should have been

ordered at midsummer or before. Still more welcome was the report

to the party in England which had always distrusted the Dardanelles

adventure, and had so largely contributed to its failure both by their

depreciation and by their encouragement to irresponsible counsellors of

despair. They kept their thoughts fixed upon the Western Front, since,

by a law of human nature, interest varies directly with proximity, and

some mental or imaginative effort is required to realise the importance

of distant undertakings. Already (on October 14, two days before Sir

Ian’s recall) Lord Milner had made the following statement in the House

of Lords:

“When I hear that it would be a terrible thing to abandon our

Dardanelles adventure because this would have so bad an effect in

Egypt, in India, upon our prestige in the East, I cannot help asking

myself whether it will not have a worse effect if we persist in that

enterprise and it ends in complete disaster.”

Lord Lansdowne, naturally, deprecated so public a suggestion; but Lord

Milner found support in Lord Ribblesdale, who urged the Government to

“get out of the unfortunate adventure.”[229] A few days afterwards

(October 18) Sir Edward Carson, the Attorney-General, resigned in

protest against the Government’s hesitation to evacuate the Peninsula

and concentrate upon Serbia’s protection, for which, however, any

efforts would then have been at least a month too late. Thus impelled,

Mr. Asquith’s Cabinet, in hopes of justifying their firm resolution to

adopt one course or the other, decided upon another preliminary step.

They commissioned Lord Kitchener to visit the Dardanelles in person and

assume the responsibility of decision.

[Sidenote: LORD KITCHENER VISITS THE PENINSULA]

Lord Kitchener left England on November 5, and on reaching Mudros

consulted with Sir Charles Monro, who meantime had visited Egypt and

now returned in company with Sir H. McMahon, the High Commissioner,

and Sir John Maxwell, Commanding the Forces in Egypt. On his part,

Lord Kitchener was strongly opposed to evacuation. His military and

political instinct showed him the advantage of maintaining this “thorn

in the side” of Turkey, even if no farther advance were possible during

the winter,--an advantage illustrated too late when Kut-el-Amara fell

in the following April. Some of the most active spirits in the navy

were also continually urging a renewed attempt to force the Narrows

with the fleet now that ships were far more numerous, the position

was better understood, and the army could at least effect a strong

diversion on the Peninsula and protect the communications in case

of success. To them, as to many of the Generals ashore, it seemed

still possible to retrieve the situation and terminate the war from

the Eastern side. But on the _Aragon_ at Mudros Lord Kitchener was

surrounded by advocates of evacuation. We know with what solicitous

anxiety he always regarded any possible danger that might threaten

Egypt, and the highest representatives of our authority there were

present, always ready to urge the danger of a Turco-German invasion

from the East, and trouble with the Senussi on the West. Sir Charles

Monro was also present, and we have seen his opinion--an opinion

decisively supported by his Staff. Support also came from one or two

recently attached members of Sir Ian’s old Staff. As one among them

said, “We brought Lord Kitchener round to our way of thinking.”[230]

This congenial task, perhaps less difficult than it might have

proved ten years before, was no doubt rendered easier still by Lord

Kitchener’s hurried visits to the main points on the Peninsula. At

Helles the visit was little more than a call upon the Headquarters of

the VIIIth Corps, and a walk among the remnant of the French force at

Seddel Bahr. At Anzac (November 13), the Australians received Lord

Kitchener with an enthusiasm due to his massive personality and his

record of service. With resolute energy, outdistancing his retinue,

he strode up the steep ascent of Walker’s Ridge to Russell’s Top,

and penetrated the front trenches whence the assault upon the Nek

had started to destruction. By coincidence, it was a day of singular

calm, and not a shot or shell was fired. At Suvla, in the same way, he

climbed up Karakol Dagh to a prominent cluster of rocks whence a wide

view is obtained over the Salt Lake and the plain to the encompassing

arc of heights still held by the enemy, and to the unassailed eminence

of Koja Chemen Tepe and the fateful bastion of Chunuk Bair beyond. At

the conclusion of a Special Order issued to the Anzac Corps (now under

command of General Godley), General Birdwood wrote:

“Lord Kitchener much regretted that time did not permit of his seeing

the whole corps, but he was very pleased to see a considerable

proportion of officers and men, and to find all in such good heart

and so confidently imbued with that grand spirit which has carried

them through all their trials and many dangerous feats of arms--a

spirit which he is quite confident they will maintain until they have

taken their full share in completely overthrowing their enemies.”

The passage, though apparently confident, was guarded. Upon a sudden

and hurried visit to such scenes, even the shrewdest and most rapid

mind would be likely to exaggerate the disadvantages of the unusual

positions, without taking account of trenches and shelters rendered

impenetrable, or of supplies stored in quantity to defy the weather

on sea; and Lord Kitchener’s mind was deliberative and vasty rather

than shrewdly alert to the moment. But ultimately it was the political

situation, and especially the deflection of Bulgaria into open

hostility, together with the stealthy neutrality of King Constantine,

which compelled Lord Kitchener and even the most high-spirited of the

Peninsula Generals reluctantly to assent to the surrender of hope.

[Sidenote: BIRDWOOD COMMANDS ON PENINSULA]

While at Mudros, Lord Kitchener ordered General Monro to assume

command of all British forces in the Mediterranean east of Malta,

excluding Egypt. General Monro naturally divided these forces into

the “Salonika Army,” under command of Lieut.-General Sir Bryan

Mahon, and the “Dardanelles Army,” under command of Lieut.-General

Sir William Birdwood. Part of the original Headquarters Staff of the

Mediterranean Expeditionary Force was now transferred from Imbros to

the _Aragon_ in Mudros harbour, where Sir Charles Monro himself fixed

his headquarters. For there he could keep closely in touch with General

Altham, Inspector-General, Line of Communications, whose energy and

accurate organisation continued to confront the perpetual or increasing

difficulties caused by weather, submarines, and the absence of wharves

and piers for transferring all ordnance and engineering stores from

one ship to another. General Birdwood henceforward to the last

retained command upon the Peninsula, and to him the main credit for

the unexpected issue of the following weeks is due. He and his Staff

occupied the newly constructed headquarters at the foot of the hills

rather more than a mile from the chief landing-stage at Imbros, handing

over his command at Anzac to General Godley, as has been mentioned.

Few events varied the monotony of trench warfare. The mine-sweeper

_Hythe_ was sunk in collision on October 28 and 155 men lost, including

two military officers. The submarine E20 was sunk in the Sea of

Marmora early in November, Lieut.-Commander Clyfford and nine others

being rescued and made prisoner. On November 15 part of the 156th

Brigade (52nd Division) captured nearly 300 yards of Turkish trench

between the Vineyard and the Gully Ravine. Once or twice the Turks

attempted half-hearted attacks both at Helles and Anzac, but were

easily repulsed. For the rest, little was done, except bombing, mining,

and preparing for the winter. Wooden beams and sheets of plate iron

arrived in some quantity, and were especially needed at Anzac. The

beaches were, as far as possible, cleared. Stores which had been piled

up in the gullies were removed to higher positions. On the left, among

the Anzac foothills, Brigadier-General Monash ordered vast caverns

to be excavated as sheltered barracks for his 4th Brigade. Up at the

“Apex,” long subterranean galleries were dug clean through the crest

of Rhododendron Ridge, so as to command the deep ravines between it

and Battleship Hill. On one occasion the fumes in an exploded mine

tunnel caused several deaths. On another, an Anzac party was cut off

in a gallery exploded by a Turkish mine, but dug themselves out and

reappeared over the parapet after three days’ burial.[231]

[Sidenote: GREAT STORM OF NOVEMBER]

To the end of November the weather remained fairly fine, except for

heavy showers and occasional mists and frosts. The dust was laid, even

at Helles and Suvla; flies almost disappeared, and the prevailing

sickness was much reduced. But on November 27 and the following four

days a natural disaster as deadly as a serious engagement befell the

Peninsula. A heavy south-westerly gale brought with it a thunderstorm

accompanied with torrents of rain, which poured down upon the Ægean and

the Peninsula for nearly twenty-four hours. In half an hour the wind

rose to a hurricane, lashing the sea to tempest. At Kephalos one of

the ships forming a breakwater was sunk, and all the craft inside the

little harbour were driven ashore. At Helles and Suvla the light piers

and landing-stages were destroyed, and the shores strewn with wreck.

A destroyer was driven ashore in Suvla Bay. At Anzac the trenches

were filled with water, and streams roared down the gullies. The fate

of Suvla was more terrible. Across a long and deep ravine leading

obliquely down from the “whale-back” ridge of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, high

parapets had been constructed by Turks and British alike. Against these

parapets the water was dammed up, as in a reservoir. They gave way, as

when a reservoir’s embankment bursts, and the weight of accumulated

water swept down the ravine into the valley, and from the valley into

the Salt Lake and the shore, bearing with it stores and equipment, and

mule-carts and mules and the drowning bodies of Turks and Britons,

united in vain struggles against the overwhelming power of nature.

Along the other sections of the lines, the men stood miserably in the

trenches, soaked to the skin, and in places up to their waists in water.

Then, of a sudden, the wind swung round to the north and fell upon the

wrecked and inundated scene with icy blast. For nearly two days and

nights snow descended in whirling blizzards, and two days and nights of

bitter frost succeeded the snow. The surface of the pools and trenches

froze thick. The men’s greatcoats, being soaked through with the rain,

froze stiff upon them. Men staggered down from the lines numbed and

bemused with the intensity of cold. They could neither hear nor speak,

but stared about them like bewildered bullocks. The sentries and

outposts in the advanced trenches could not pull the triggers of their

rifles for cold. They saw the Turks standing up on their firing steps

and gazing at them over the parapets, and still they did not fire. It

was reported at the time that the General, knowing that the condition

of the enemy was probably worse than ours, desired a general attack.

But movement was hardly possible. Overcome by the common affliction,

our men also stood up and gazed back at the Turks. Few can realise the

suffering of those four days.

[Illustration: ANZAC IN SNOW]

[Sidenote: EFFECT OF THE BLIZZARD]

As though to test their power of endurance up to the very last, the

full weight of misery fell upon the 29th Division, detained at Suvla

since their final battle of August 21. Of that Division’s celebrated

battalions, the 2nd Royal Fusiliers (86th Brigade) suffered most,

their sentries standing immovable at their posts until they froze

to death, and being found afterwards watching from the parapet,

rifle in hand. The dead in the IXth Army Corps alone numbered over

200. From the Peninsula about 10,000 sick had to be removed. Many

were “frost-bitten”; many lost their limbs; some, their reason. It is

probable that the Turks suffered even worse; for prisoners said their

men had no blankets, no covering at all except their thin uniforms and

frozen greatcoats. But an enemy’s suffering is small consolation for

one’s own; nor throughout the campaign was the element of vengeful

hatred of the Turk ever one of the impelling motives among our fighting

men, whether British, Irish, Anzac, or Hindu.[232]

This disastrous storm, though none raged again with such fury, may have

hastened the approaching end; but the Cabinet’s decision was probably

taken immediately after Lord Kitchener’s visit. On November 15, Mr.

Winston Churchill, in resigning his office as Chancellor of the Duchy

of Lancaster--an office, it is true, which afforded little scope for

the activity of his restless interests--defended his conception of

the Dardanelles Expedition in the House of Commons, and expressed a

judgment which I believe will be the judgment of future time until the

campaign fades from memory:

“If,” he said, “there were any operations in the history of the world

which, having been begun, it was worth while to carry through with

the utmost vigour and fury, with a consistent flow of reinforcements,

and an utter disregard of life, it was the operations so daringly

and brilliantly begun by Sir Ian Hamilton in the immortal landing of

April 25.”

That was the natural and just lamentation over the decease of the fine

conception of whose being Mr. Churchill was the author. But now nothing

remained for it but decent burial. On November 30, having visited

Salonika and Italy, Lord Kitchener returned. On December 8, Sir Charles

Monro ordered General Birdwood to proceed with the evacuation of Suvla

and Anzac. By him the whole scheme was designed, in co-operation with

Rear-Admiral Rosslyn Wemyss, who was in command of the naval side owing

to the temporary absence of Vice-Admiral de Robeck through illness.

[Sidenote: THE PROBLEM OF EVACUATION]

To bring away an army from open beaches fully exposed to a resolute

enemy has always been recognised as one of the most difficult military

operations, involving risk of heavy loss if not disaster. On principle

it is not to be undertaken except after a defeat of the enemy’s

forces. But in this case there could be no question of defeat, and

the enemy was nowhere more than 300 yards distant from our front,

and at many points no more than 10 or 20 yards. At Anzac and Suvla

alone, rather more than 83,000 men had to be embarked, together with

nearly 5000 horses and mules, nearly 2000 carts, about 200 guns, and

at each place thirty days’ supply at an average of 4 lb. per man, to

say nothing of engineering and medical stores, and all the baggage of

Staffs and officers.[233]

The highest estimate of the probable loss was 50 per cent.; the lowest

(and this was the estimate I heard most commonly given by Staff

officers just before the event) was 15 per cent. At Mudros preparation

was made for 6000 to 10,000 wounded, and in case of such losses, many

of the wounded must have been left ashore.[234]

The force of the enemy opposite Suvla and Anzac was roughly calculated

at about 60,000, equally divided between the two positions, and

consisting of Anatolians, Syrians, and Arabs. But, including reserves,

it was thought there were 120,000 in all upon the Peninsula.[235]

[Sidenote: OUR SIMPLE RUSES]

They were engaged upon constructing new gun-positions with cement

platforms, especially behind Kavak Tepe. It was reported that a battery

of 12-inch howitzers and two or three batteries of 9-inch guns were

on their way from Germany, and the violence of the shell-explosions

upon our lines proved that superior ammunition had already arrived. For

the rest, the Turks laboured continuously at deepening or multiplying

their trenches, and up to the final evening we watched their spades

throwing the earth over their parapets. To keep them thus occupied

in improving their time, the army and navy employed many ingenious

devices. Men who had been embarked at night, or under tarpaulins by

day, were brought back again fully exposed to view, as in a stage army.

The Indian muleteers were ordered to drive their carts continuously to

and fro, making as much dust as possible. On the final days all ranks

were ordered to maintain the immemorial British custom of showing

themselves upon the sky-line and serving their country by walking where

they could best be observed. Both at Anzac and Suvla the guns also

had during the last few weeks been ordered not to fire a shot during

certain intervals, which sometimes lasted three days together. At Anzac

on one occasion, the Turks came creeping over towards our parapets,

and even entered the galleries to see if we still were there; but they

were so terribly received with rifles and bayonets that the question of

our intentions appeared to them settled. Prisoners and deserters (who

continued to come in up to the last hour) told us that, in consequence

of these simple artifices, the Turks were even expecting a renewed

attack. They also spread a persistent rumour that the Turks themselves

contemplated evacuation. This report was probably due to the deserter’s

natural exaggeration of his miseries; but since the tempest and snow

the condition of the men in the Turkish trenches had, no doubt, been

deplorable.

[Sidenote: ARRANGEMENTS FOR EMBARKATION]

At Suvla, so soon as the order to evacuate arrived, our men began

fortifying the points at each end of the bay, as positions where a last

stand could be made. The front line extended for 11,000 yards, running

from the shore of the Gulf of Xeros,[236] over the lofty “whale-back”

of Kiretch Tepe Sirt at Jephson’s Post, down the steep southern slope,

across the tree-covered and partly cultivated plain through the farms

of Anafarta Ova and Sulajik, in front of Green and Chocolate Hill, and

out into the swampy level of the Biyuk Anafarta valley, till it joined

up with the Anzac lines. Fortunately, the recent tempest had filled

the Salt Lake with water to an average depth of 4 feet; so that in the

centre of the Suvla position no further defence was required, and, on

the right, only about 1000 yards of marshy and waterlogged plain had to

be entrenched or covered by wire entanglement. The remaining positions

were defended by three lines, wired and entrenched, barbed-wire gates

ready to close being prepared at all openings of paths and roads.

The embarkation was carried out from the north and south points of

Suvla Bay. At the extreme end of the north or Suvla Point a small

harbour, capable of receiving rafts, “beetles,” and even trawlers, had

been constructed, chiefly by the skill of the 5th Anglesey Company R.E.

(Captain Glenn), who had blasted away the rock and built an oblong

of low walls to serve as wharves. Near the narrow entrance of this

small harbour a steamer was also run aground as a stage alongside of

which larger transports could lie. Guns, horses, mules, and stores

were taken off on rafts and “beetles” in the little harbour. The

battalions embarked from the sunken steamer, usually also on “beetles”

or trawlers. The 53rd Division went first. Of the old fighting 29th

Division, the 86th Brigade followed, getting away on the night of

December 14–15. There remained the 11th, 13th, and Mounted Divisions,

together with the 88th Brigade of the 29th, and it was arranged that

the 11th Division with the 88th Brigade and one brigade of the 13th

should leave from the north point, and the other two brigades of the

13th, together with the “mounted” forces and 500 Gurkhas of the Indian

Brigade from Anzac, from the south or Nibrunesi Point, where they could

embark from the C and B Beaches of the original landing, under cover of

Lala Baba and the cliffs. A new pier had also been constructed near the

point on the inside of Suvla Bay, fairly sheltered, though exposed to

observation and shell-fire from “The Pimple” and that part of Kiretch

Tepe Sirt. In fact, on the very last day (December 19), while I was

at General Maude’s 13th Division Headquarters overlooking the pier

from the cliff, a 5·7-inch shell tore a large gap in the middle of it;

but it was rapidly repaired by the Engineers. A similar pier had been

constructed on the far or Xeros side of Suvla Point, below the cliff

on which General Byng had now fixed the IXth Army Corps Headquarters.

This was entirely sheltered and unobserved, but was only to be used

for the withdrawal of the very last detachment. The naval part of the

embarkation at Suvla Point was under the direction of Captain Unwin,

who organised and conducted it with the same enthusiastic, not to say

explosive, energy which he had displayed during the landing on V Beach

from the _River Clyde_.

Night after night, and all night long, the anxious labour was resumed.

Guns--the “heavies,” the howitzers, and the field-guns--were drawn

down to the harbour, and pushed or pulled with ropes upon the rafts.

Mules and horses were brought down, but gradually, lest the enemy

should notice the emptiness of the horse-lines along the point.[237]

Stores were brought down, all that might have been needed only for

summer or for a long campaign coming first. Then came the men, brigade

by brigade, battalion by battalion, mustering at definite points

about half a mile from the harbour, and in turn filing down to the

transports. There was no confusion, no visible excitement. Silently the

men took their places, and moved to quiet orders. Each carried full kit

with pick and shovel or periscope.

[Sidenote: RISKS DURING THE FINAL NIGHTS]

As each night of the final week passed and the defences became weaker,

the anxiety increased, though none was shown or mentioned. Apart from

a general attack, danger lay in three points--the wind, the moon, and

shelling by night. A south-west gale, or even a strong breeze arising

in the last two days, would have stopped embarkation and left us almost

defenceless. The moon was waxing, but a thin mist veiled it almost

every night, and the half-obscured radiance helped to guide our men

down the paths, and did not betray the meaning of the thin black lines

which were just visible upon the twilit sea as trawlers, “beetles,”

and rafts slid away. The Turks had the beaches exactly registered. At

any hour of the night a dozen of their heavy shells would have reduced

the little harbour to a bloody mash of animals and men. On the morning

of December 16 they threw six 4·7-inch shells of improved bursting

quality right into the middle of the embarkation beach, but it was

almost empty then, and only one man was hurt. In the afternoon of the

17th they shelled A West Beach heavily for an hour. Such events showed

their power for our destruction, but the nights remained undisturbed,

except by our own ceaseless toil. An immense blaze of stores, lighted

accidentally at Anzac before dawn on December 18, increased the peril

of discovery, but the Turks remained indifferent to portents.

[Illustration: SCENE ON SUVLA POINT, TWENTY-FOUR HOURS BEFORE THE

DEPARTURE]

[Sidenote: THE FINAL NIGHT AT SUVLA]

The last day came. It was Sunday, December 19. Little by little the

forces at Suvla had been reduced to 12,000 men and 16 guns, whereas,

to hold a front line the length of ours, 33,000 men would be required

by regulation. The day was passed as usual, each man doing his utmost

to give a crowded appearance to the scene. At sunset, the guns fired

their parting salute and were withdrawn--the last at 9.30. The men

were then brought away--rather more than 6000 to Suvla Point, rather

less to Nibrunesi. A small party was left to keep up rifle-fire in the

front trenches. Larger parties were left to hold the second and third

lines. The rest embarked. Shortly before midnight the front line came

in, leaving lighted candles which at irregular intervals burnt a string

to discharge a rifle, so that a desultory fusillade was maintained

for about an hour. The second and third lines followed in turn, only

sappers remaining behind to close up the barbed-wire gates, to cut

the telephone wires, and to set trip- and contact-mines at points of

likely resort. A party of 200 (I think, 9th West Yorks) were to hold

the fourth line to the last, and sacrifice themselves if the Turks

attacked.

Intermittent outbursts of firing came from the Turks, and we could hear

the rumbling explosions as they toiled at blasting new trenches--an

interesting example of labour lost. Once an aeroplane whirred overhead,

invisible until she dropped one green star, which blazed for a few

seconds just below Saturn and showed her to be ours. On the earth a

few fires burned where camps were once inhabited, but gradually they

faded out. Two lights glimmered from deserted hospital tents along the

curving shore; for our doctors had remained to the last in readiness

for the deaths and wounds of disaster. But now even they had gone,

leaving notes to thank the Turks for their consideration towards the

Red Cross. Otherwise, only the sea and the moon showed light, and over

the white surface of the water those thin black lines kept moving away.

From the little harbour arose the varied noise of screaming mules,

rattling anchor chains, shouting megaphones, engines throbbing and

steamers hooting low. Still the Turks gave no sign of hearing, though

they lay almost visible in the moonlight across that familiar scene.

At last the final lines of defenders began silently to steal down

the paths of Karakol Dagh, leaving four A.S.C. officers under Col.

Hodsoll to fire vast piles of abandoned stores--biscuits, bully-beef,

and bacon. Officers of the beach party, which had accomplished such

excellent and sleepless work, collected. At 4.30 a.m. of the 20th the

defenders of the fourth line--about 200 in all--embarked from the

concealed pier on the Gulf of Xeros side of the cliffs. And at the same

time, General Byng, motioning Brigadier-General Reed, his Chief of

Staff, to pass in front of him, left Suvla Point, being the last to

leave.

From Nibrunesi Point, under the direction of General Maude, the

evacuation was accomplished in the same manner and with the same

success. The whole movement involved the loss of only two men,

and those by accident. Hospital tents remained standing, and some

provisions were burnt. Not a man or gun or cart or horse was left

behind.

Those of us who had reached the _Cornwallis_ in Captain Unwin’s pinnace

at four in the morning, were roused at six by bugles sounding to action

quarters. Dawn was just breaking, as on the day when we landed upon

that shore four and a half months earlier. But it was still dark except

for the glare of flames consuming the piles of stores on Suvla Point

and Lala Baba, and the lesser flames of a wrecked hospital lighter

ashore by the “cut” in the sandy spit. By seven it was almost daylight,

and the Turks began pouring shells into the fires to deter us from

putting them out. With the increasing light, they turned all their guns

on to the empty beaches, trenches, and especially the positions on Hill

10, where a battery had stood. Meantime our picket-boats had searched

the shores, but found no stragglers, not even an army medical, left

behind. The Turkish guns were then directed against the battleships,

but they fired wildly and without effect. The _Cornwallis_ answered,

her big guns throwing shells upon the slope of Kiretch Tepe Sirt, her

lesser armament destroying the breakwaters, piers, and little harbour,

so industriously constructed. At nine o’clock she turned and left the

long-familiar scene, passing westward towards the mountains of Imbros

over a tranquil and sunlit sea. The evacuation had been hurried forward

by a day, and fortunate indeed was that anticipation. By nine o’clock

next morning a south-west gale was raging, rain fell in deluge, and the

sea roared upon the coast. What if the movement had been delayed for

those few hours more?

[Sidenote: THE EVACUATION OF ANZAC]

At Anzac the withdrawal was carried out with equal daring and skill.

The problem was slightly different, for the position extended in an

irregular fan-shape, the centre being very short (only about 500 yards

in direct line from the Nek to the Cove) but stretching northward on

the left for rather over 3 miles to Hill 60 and the Biyuk Anafarta

plain; and southward on the right for about 1½ miles to Chatham Post.

The flanks had therefore to be brought in first, and no interior

defences were made except a strong redoubt as a kind of “keep” within

the Cove itself. It is probable that the withdrawal of the left

flank, where the ground is comparatively open, could not have escaped

observation but for the supposed presence of a large force at Suvla,

and, in that sense, Suvla may be said to have been the salvation of

Anzac. The embarkation was carried out partly from the new pier on

Ocean Beach north of Ari Burnu, partly from the repaired piers in the

Cove.

Of the 40,000 at Anzac, about 20,000 had been gradually taken off to

Mudros by December 18. That night over 10,000 more were sent away.

All but nine worn-out guns had gone, two being left close up to the

firing line, where they had been stationed from the first. Aeroplanes

kept watch all day, five being at times up together--a large number

for Gallipoli--and no hostile plane was allowed to approach. On

the morning of Sunday, 19th, the few guns kept up a brave show of

bombardment, the Turks answering with their increased number of

guns, no less than seventeen of which were now posted in the Olive

Grove, commanding the main beach of embarkation. As at Suvla, the few

remaining men (about 10,000 in all) were directed to show themselves

freely, and many spent the morning in tending for the last time the

graves of the 8000 comrades who there lay buried.

The 6000 stationed in the afternoon to guard the outer lines were

divided into three groups--A, B, and C--of 2000 each, and there arose

a violent competition to belong to the C group, known as “Die-hards,”

because they were to be the last to leave. Group A came from the

northern positions and included parties of the 1st and 3rd Light Horse

Brigades, the 4th Australian Brigade, and the New Zealand Mounted

Rifles with the Maoris (from Hill 60). They marched in absolute

silence, magazines empty, no smoking allowed, footsteps deadened by

sacking spread over the hard patches of ground and over the planks. By

ten o’clock they had all embarked from Ocean Beach. At midnight Group

B gathered in the Cove. Among them were New Zealand Infantry from the

heights of Sari Bair, 20th Infantry from the Nek, 17th Infantry from

Quinn’s, 23rd and 24th from Lone Pine, 6th Light Horse from Chatham’s

Post far on the right. Thus the veteran 1st Australian Division of the

Landing was now mingled with the 2nd Division, sent to uphold them and

give them some opportunity for relief. Descending the diverse gullies

from the fan-like extremities, each position bearing so fine a record

during the eight months of struggle and endurance, they concentrated

punctually and without confusion. The Navy held the transports ready,

and they went.

[Sidenote: ANZAC ABANDONED]

Only 2000 men now remained to guard the long and devious lines from

Chatham’s Post to the Apex and the Farm. About 1.30 a.m. of Monday the

20th, a bomb thrown from the “Apex” marked the abandonment of that

hard-won and hard-held position. Thence New Zealanders came down: from

Courtney’s and Pope’s, 18th and 19th Infantry; from Ouinn’s, the 17th.

By 3 a.m. only 800 “Die-hards” were left in groups at points where the

Turkish lines came within a few yards’ distance. By 3.30, Lone Pine,

Quinn’s, and Pope’s were finally abandoned, and Anzacs rushed down

White’s Valley and Shrapnel Gully for the last time. As they reached

the Cove, a violent explosion, which seemed to shake even the ships at

Suvla, thundered from the heights. Three and a half tons of amenol,

laid by the 5th Company Australian Engineers, had blown a great chasm

across the Nek, and that ready entrance to the deserted lines was

blocked as by a moat and rampart. Rifles continued to fire from the old

positions--fired by sand running from buckets. The Turks burst into one

of their panic rages of fire against the empty trenches, from which

they now expected a general assault. The naval guns pounded the hills.

The last of the transports departed, and Anzac shore was nothing but a

lasting name.

A few stragglers were taken off by picket-boats in the early morning.

A few guns--four 18-pounders, two 5-inch howitzers, one 4·7 naval gun

(said to have been in Ladysmith, and, in that case, called the “Lady

Anne” or the “Bloody Mary”), one anti-aircraft, and two 3-pounder

Hotchkiss guns had to be left, but were disabled. Some carts without

wheels, and fifty-six mules were also left, and some stores burnt.

The execution of the whole movement conferred just honour upon

Major-General Sir Alexander Godley and Brigadier-General Cyril B. B.

White, his Chief of Staff, not to mention other names well worthy of

mention, and now regretfully to be parted with.[238]

Even after the evacuation of Suvla and Anzac, many hoped that Helles

at least would be retained as a perpetual threat to the heart of the

Turkish Empire. But being by this time deeply entangled at Salonika,

where the French and English forces had lately been driven back from

the edges of Serbia across the Greek frontier, the Cabinet resolved to

wipe out the Dardanelles Expedition, as a gambler “cuts his losses,”

and leave no trace or profit of all the army’s incomparable deeds.

Certainly, it would have been difficult to remain at Helles now that

heavy guns were being brought down from Suvla and Anzac; superior

German shells had arrived, and German guns were on the way. Throughout

the end of December the bombardment was at times very violent, reaching

extreme intensity about 1 p.m. on December 24, when the right and

centre of our line, from the front trenches to the sea, suffered the

severest shelling experienced at Helles.[239] With the help of the

Navy, and by the construction of deeper trenches and solid shelter, it

might have been possible to hold the position as a kind of Gibraltar

guarding the Straits. But Imbros and Tenedos, for a naval Power, served

that purpose with less risk, and since the glorious hope of advancing

upon Constantinople was definitely abandoned, it was argued best to

quit Helles and the whole Peninsula.

[Sidenote: EVACUATION OF HELLES ORDERED]

On Christmas Eve, General Birdwood was directed to prepare a scheme;

four days later to complete the evacuation as quickly as possible.[240]

The problem was to bring away unnoticed rather more than 35,000 men,

about 4000 animals, about 110 guns, and over 1000 tons of stores. Most

of the remaining French Division had been gradually withdrawn during

December, and the 4000 left at the end of the year were embarked on

French warships during the night of January 1–2. By consent of General

Brulard, however, the French guns were left under command of General

Davies with the VIIIth Corps. The French lines were taken over by the

Royal Naval Division--that military maid-of-all-work. Some have said

that the soldier-sailors were dressed in French grey to deceive such of

the enemy as could not hear or understand their language; but this was

untrue.

The 42nd (East Lancashire) Division, which had throughout done

such steady and persistent work under Major-General Douglas, was

withdrawn for a much-needed rest,[241] and the 13th (Major-General

Stanley Maude), having been at Imbros since the Suvla evacuation, was

transferred to Helles. The redoubtable 29th Division was also sent

back to the scene of its early triumphs. The troops to go at the last

belonged, therefore, to the 13th, 29th, 52nd, and Royal Naval Divisions.

[Sidenote: LAST FIGHTING ON THE PENINSULA]

During the days of preparation, little happened to break the appearance

of routine. Almost the last assault from our side had been made on

December 19, when, simply to distract attention from the evacuation in

the north, parts of the 42nd and 52nd Divisions attacked beside the

Krithia Nullah, and the 5th Highland Light Infantry (157th Brigade)

especially distinguished themselves. Sir Charles Monro also mentions a

successful attack by the 52nd Division on December 29. But, for the

most part, on our side we beguiled the Turk by periods of complete

silence, especially between 8 p.m. and 2 a.m., so as to habituate

him to inattentive repose. For the last days, one British 6-inch gun

and six old-fashioned French “heavies” alone were retained, to give

a semblance of active hostility. On January 7, however, the very day

before our departure, the enemy, possessed by one of his unaccountable

moods, directed a terrible bombardment against the 13th Division on

our left from Achi Baba, and a slighter fire against the R.N.D. on

our right from Asia. It lasted all afternoon, and at 3.30 the Turks

attempted an attack near Fusilier Bluff, between Gully Ravine and the

sea. Officers were seen urging the men forward as in earlier days; but

the men had no longer the spirit of earlier days, and since they were

disinclined to move, the attack faded away. Fortunately, our want of

artillery was compensated by a naval squadron off the west coast. None

the less, we lost a hundred and six wounded and fifty-eight killed--the

last to lay their bones upon the earth of that dedicated Peninsula. The

7th North Staffords were chiefly engaged.

Next morning (January 8) rose fair, with a light southerly breeze.

The Turks kept unusually quiet, and it was resolved to accomplish the

evacuation as arranged. Major-General Lawrence (C.O. 52nd Division) had

been put in charge of the embarkation on the military side. Positions

on all the beaches were fortified as redoubts for a small garrison to

hold to the last. On Gully Beach, Major-General Maude selected the

position and prepared the evacuation of his 13th Division. Specially

selected officers superintended the W and V Beaches. The naval

arrangements were carried out by Captain C. M. Staveley, R.N., assisted

by naval officers at each point of embarkation. In addition to the

three strongly wired lines of defence across the Peninsula, a fourth

had been constructed from Gully Beach to De Tott’s Battery. Troops on

the left naturally withdrew from Gully Beach or W (four piers); on the

right from V Beach (three piers and the _River Clyde_).

[Sidenote: THE EVACUATION OF HELLES]

On the afternoon of the final day the Divisions had only four

battalions apiece remaining upon the Peninsula. They came away in three

groups or trips, the first withdrawing soon after 7 p.m. and getting

off in destroyers and “beetles” without difficulty. But at sunset the

breeze freshened, and it began to blow hard from the south-west, the

quarter to which W Beach was most exposed. The connecting platform

between the shore and the hulks which served as wharves there was

washed away by heavy seas. Still, the second group, and even guns, were

safely taken off about midnight. On V Beach, while the second group

was waiting at eleven o’clock, the Asiatic guns began to bombard, but

fortunately all but two shells fell short into the sea, and only one

man was wounded. Hardly, however, had fifty of the R.N.D. put off to

the _Prince George_ in a “beetle” at 11.30 and got under way for Mudros

with 1500 others, when they felt the dull thud of a torpedo against the

vessel’s side. The torpedo did not explode, but the presence of the

submarine, known to the navy all the evening, added to the anxiety of

the final hours. Starting from Gully Beach, a lighter also went aground

after all had left, and the 160 men had to be landed again and marched

over to W Beach for embarkation.

At 11.30 the final party or rearguard--about sixty men from each

Division--withdrew from the front lines. With bombs and rifle-fire

they had kept up as much noise as they could to conceal the movement

of the rest. Now, leaving lights and devices by which dropping water

filled tins and discharged rifles when the tins were full, they crept

away under cover of officers’ patrols, who maintained a desultory fire,

barred the gates, and connected the mines. About 2.30 all arrived at

the beaches, to find a heavy surf dashing upon the shore. Nevertheless,

though under great stress and peril, by 3.30 the beaches were cleared.

The Military Transport Officer, coming off the _River Clyde_, was the

last man to leave. Time fuses lighted the heaps of abandoned stores,

and exploded masses of ammunition. In all, fourteen of our well-worn

old 15-pounders, a 6-inch gun, and the six old French “heavies” were

abandoned and destroyed. Far worse was the fate of 508 horses and

mules, most of which were killed. All animals and stores might have

been embarked, had it been safe to wait. But the rising storm of that

night was a warning, and, as at Suvla, only by the barest luck in

weather was disaster avoided. The Turks began shelling the beaches

at the first sight of the fires, and continued that unprofitable

expenditure till 6.30 a.m. of January 9. At Helles, as at Suvla and

Anzac, those incalculable Orientals remained ignorant of our departure,

though here expecting it. No doubt they were glad at our going;

naturally, they were glad. And so, by the evacuation, our authorities,

whether political or military, were acting contrary to Napoleon’s maxim

of war: “Never do what you know your enemy wants you to do.”

So the episode of the Dardanelles Expedition, equal in splendour of

conception, heroism, and tragedy, came to an end. During the eight and

a half months of its continuance upon the Peninsula itself, the land

forces, including the Royal Naval Division, but not counting the Navy

or the French (whose losses are not published), suffered the following

loss:

+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+

| Killed. | Wounded.| Missing.| Total. |

+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+

|Officers 1,745 | 3,143 | 353 | 5,241 |

|Other ranks 26,455 | 74,952 | 10,901 | 112,308 |

| ------ | ------ | ------ | ------- |

| Totals 28,200 | 78,095 | 11,254 | 117,549 |

+--------------------+---------+---------+----------+

A large proportion of the missing must be counted as killed. The number

of sick admitted to hospital between April 25 and December 11, 1915,

was 96,683, of whom also a considerable proportion died. If we may take

about one-quarter of the missing as killed, and about one-twentieth

of the sick as having died, the total of lives lost amounts to about

36,000. The total losses of the Turks have been variously estimated

between 400,000 and 500,000, but those estimates are conjectural.

[Sidenote: MILITARY CAUSES OF THE FAILURE]

The causes of our failure have been, as I hope, reasonably signified

in the preceding account of the campaign. They may be summarised in

relation either to the movements on the spot, or to the attitude of the

home Government. On the spot, we failed chiefly owing to the premature

naval attacks, which gave the enemy warning of our intention, and owing

to the design of forcing the Straits with the Navy alone, which might

indeed have been temporarily successful if persisted in, but in the end

would have given us only a dubious advantage; for a fleet penetrating

to the Sea of Marmora would have remained dangerously isolated so

long as both sides of the Straits were strongly held by the enemy.

The second initial error was the delay in concentrating the military

forces for the land attack--a delay chiefly due to the retention of

the 29th Division in England, and to the necessity of returning the

transports from Mudros to Alexandria for the rearrangement of the

military stores and munitions. As to the actual operations on land, it

might be argued, in the light of wisdom after the event, that the first

landing had better have been made by a combined force at Suvla Bay

and on the Ocean Beach at Anzac, though, in that case, larger numbers

than those allotted to the Expedition at the beginning must have been

demanded. Again, with regard to the failure of the August operations,

it might now be maintained that the forces at Anzac were dissipated

by the assaults at Lone Pine and the Nek, and by the over-elaborate

subdivision of the attacking forces upon our left. Even in spite of

the natural intricacy of the ground, a concentration of all available

troops into one main body (or at most into two) for a grand assault

upon the Sari Bair range from Chunuk Bair to Koja Chemen Tepe might

have given better results. As to the “inertia” which prevailed at

Suvla on the critical day of August 8, and the confusion, delay, and

fatal mistakes of the preceding and following days, thus precluding

the support to the Anzac movement upon which the Commander-in-Chief

had fairly calculated, no more need be said. Owing partly to the

temperament of Generals, partly to the inexperience of their Staffs,

and perhaps chiefly to the want of confidence between the poorly

trained troops and their senior officers, the instrument to which he

trusted broke in his hand.

[Sidenote: POLITICAL CAUSE OF THE FAILURE]

The ultimate burden of failure, however, lies on the authorities at

home. The Allies were presented with the most brilliant and promising

strategical conception of the war up to the present time (spring,

1918). Success would have given them advantages already repeatedly

enumerated: a passage would have been opened for the supply of grain

from Russia, and a supply of munitions to that country; the enemy’s

hope of advancing either towards Egypt or the Persian Gulf would have

been frustrated; the Balkan States would, at worst, have remained

neutral, or, calculating on future favours, would have joined our

Alliance in hurried gratitude; Venizelos would have remained in power,

and King Constantine’s military and domestic predilections have been

suppressed; the belated attempt to rescue Serbia after her destruction

was assured would not have been required; Tsar Ferdinand would have

scented his own advantage on the side of Bulgaria’s natural sympathies;

Roumania, relieved from apprehension on her southern frontier, could

have watched the Transylvanian passes or crossed them at pleasure;

Russia might possibly have retained her front lines intact, and, at

the worst, would have immobilised large armies of the enemy. The

Central Powers would then indeed have been surrounded with an “iron

ring,” and peace secured in the spring of 1916. The main disadvantages

of such a peace to the world would have been the probable occupation

of Constantinople by Russia, the fortification of the Straits in her

interest, and the continuance in power of the autocratic Tsardom,

surrounded by its attendant supporters in bureaucrats, secret police,

provocative agents, censors of public opinion, and all the other

instruments of political and religious tyranny.

At that time the future of Russia could not be foretold, any more than

it can be foretold now. But the advantages here recapitulated should

have been too obvious even for insular statesmen to overlook. Mr.

Winston Churchill was justified in the protest already quoted, that “if

there were any operations in the history of the world which, having

been begun, it was worth while to carry through with the utmost vigour

and fury,” it was those. Far from displaying vigour, let alone fury,

the Government appears to have regarded the Expedition rather as an

overburdened father regards an illegitimate child put out to nurse in

a distant village. It was a “by-blow,” a “side-show,” something apart

from the normal and recognised order of things. A certain allowance

had, unfortunately, to be apportioned for it, but if the person who

superintended its welfare clamoured for more, that person must be kept

in the proper place, or palmed off with gifts that were no gifts.

Every breath of suspicion or detraction must be listened to, every

chance of abandonment welcomed, and the news of a peaceful ending

accepted with a sigh of relief.

[Sidenote: THE END]

For myself, in coming to the conclusion of this account--faithful as

far as I could make it, but so inadequate to the tragic splendour of

the theme--I feel again a mingled admiration and poignant sorrow, as

when for the last time I watched the scene from the battered deck

of the _River Clyde_ and, under the dying brilliance of sunset,

looked across the purple current of the Dardanelles to those deserted

plains which long ago also rang with tragic battle. The time is fast

approaching when the deserted Peninsula of Gallipoli looking across

to Troy will be haunted by kindred memories. There the many men so

beautiful had their habitation. There they knew the finest human

joy--the joy of active companionship in a cause which they accounted

noble. There they faced the utmost suffering of hardship and pain, the

utmost terrors of death, and there they endured separation from those

whom they most loved. The crowded caverns in which they made their

dwelling-place are already falling in, except where some shepherd uses

a Headquarters as more weatherproof than his hut, or as a sheltered

pen for sheep. The trenches which they dug and held to the death have

crumbled into furrows, covered with grass and flowers, or with crops

more fertile for so deep a ploughing. The graves are obliterated, and

the scattered bones that cost so much in the breeding have returned

to earth. But in our history the Peninsula of the Dardanelles, the

Straits, the surrounding seas, and the islands set among them will

always remain as memorials recording, it is true, the disastrous

and tragic disabilities of our race, but, on the other hand, its

versatility, its fortitude, and its happy though silent welcome to any

free sacrifice involving great issues for mankind.

[Illustration: THE PENINSULA, THE STRAITS, AND CONSTANTINOPLE]

[Illustration: MAP SHOWING BRITISH & FRENCH TRENCHES.

GALLIPOLI PENINSULA.

_SOUTHERN ZONE. 7TH. JULY 1915_]

[Illustration: POSITIONS AT ANZAC (END OF AUGUST)]

[Illustration: POSITIONS AT SUVLA (END OF AUGUST)]

FOOTNOTES

[1] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 46.

[2] Speech in Foreign Office Debate, July 10, 1914. The whole question

of Germany’s relations to Turkey is discussed with his usual knowledge

by Mr. H. N. Brailsford in _A League of Nations_, chap. v.

[3] Sir Edward Grey, in the House of Commons, October 14, 1915; Foreign

Office Statement, November 1, 1914. On the authority of the Kaiser,

in conversation with M. Theotokis, Greek Minister in Berlin, it now

appears that Germany had already concluded an alliance with Turkey on

August 4, 1914. (See Greek White Book, published August 24, 1917.)

[4] See _Turkey, Greece, and the Great Powers_, by G. F. Abbott

(1917), pp. 167–200.

[5] Changing their religion with their sky, the _Goeben_ and _Breslau_

became the _Jawuz Sultan Selim_ and the _Midilli_ in the Turkish Navy.

See _Two War Years in Constantinople_, by Dr. Harry Stürmer, p. 113.

In an action at the entrance to the Dardanelles, January 20, 1918, the

_Breslau_ was sunk, and the _Goeben_ had to be beached at Nagara Point.

We lost the monitor _Lord Raglan_.

[6] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 45 (omitted in first

publication, but inserted shortly afterwards).

[7] The subject was fully discussed with the present writer by M.

Skouloudis, at that time Premier in Athens (November 9, 1915). That

veteran statesman was apparently honest in his belief both in the

King’s military genius and in the King’s good faith towards the

Allies--a belief unfounded in both cases.

[8] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 47, 48.

[9] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 50–52.

[10] Speech in the House of Commons upon the Dardanelles Commission’s

First Report, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1743).

[11] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 9.

[12] Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1746).

[13] _Ibid._

[14] Mr. Asquith, Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917. Cf.

Sir James Wolfe Murray: “Lord Kitchener acted very much as his own

Chief of the Staff.” Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 18.

[15] “I suppose that upon no man in our history has a heavier burden

fallen than fell upon him, and nothing in connection with this

Report--it may be no imputation upon anybody connected with the

Report itself--has filled me with more indignation and disgust than

that the publication of the criticisms made in it of Lord Kitchener’s

conduct and capacity should have been taken advantage of by those who

only two years ago were in a posture of almost slavish adulation to

belittle his character, and, so far as they can, to defile his memory.

Lord Kitchener’s memory is in no danger. It lives, and will live, in

the gratitude and admiration of the British people and of the whole

Empire.”--Mr. Asquith, Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917

(Hansard, 1748).

[16] See his speech in the House of Commons on Woman Suffrage, March

28, 1917.

[17] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 16.

[18] Speech at Dundee, June 5, 1915.

[19] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 53.

[20] _Ibid._, pars. 54, 55.

[21] This War Staff Group took the place of the Board of Admiralty in

strategical matters, the Second, Third, and Fourth Sea Lords being

thus released for their special functions of manning, shipbuilding,

and transport. Its other members were the First Lord, the Chief of

the Staff (Sir Henry Oliver), the Secretary of the Board (Sir Graham

Greene), and the Naval Secretary (Commodore de Bartolomé).--See “The

Dardanelles Report,” by Mr. Archibald Hurd (_Fortnightly Review_,

April 1917), where the whole subject is discussed with the writer’s

well-known knowledge of naval affairs.

[22] Ἐχθίστη δὲ ὀδύνη ἐστὶ τῶν ἐν ἀνθρώποισι αὕτη, πολλὰ φρονέοντα

μηδενὸς κρατέειν.--Herodotus, ix. 16.

[23] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 19, 87; minutes 1

and 2.

[24] _Ibid._, par. 20.

[25] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 26.

[26] _Ibid._, par. 22.

[27] Speech of March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1744).

[28] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 16.

[29] _Ibid._, Majority Report, par. 68.

[30] _Ibid._, Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 11. The reference is to the

brief bombardment of November 3.

[31] _Ibid._, pars. 7–12.

[32] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 56.

[33] _Ibid._, Majority Report, par. 57; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par.

14. Admiral Jackson’s view as to the unenviable position of a fleet

bottled up off Constantinople without commanding the line of retreat

was probably influenced by the record of Admiral Duckworth’s risk when

in a similar position (1807), and Admiral Hornby’s hesitation about

entering the Straits in 1877.--See Nelson’s _History of the War_,

by John Buchan, vol. vi. pp. 130–36.

[34] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 43.

[35] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1780).

[36] Dardanelles Commission; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 16.

[37] _Ibid._, par. 20; Majority Report, pars. 60–62.

[38] Lord Fisher had himself suggested the use of the _Queen

Elizabeth_ to Admiral Oliver the day before. Mr. Roch’s Minute, par.

17.

[39] Majority Report, par. 69. Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 18.

[40] Majority Report, par. 94.

[41] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 68.

[42] _Ibid._, par. 83.

[43] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 22.

[44] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 88.

[45] M. Augagneur, Minister of Marine, had visited London after the

decision of January 13. He approved the subsequent plan, pronouncing it

“prudent et prévoyant.” Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 29.

[46] Majority Report, pars. 86, 87; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 25, 26.

[47] Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 11 and 22.

[48] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1783, 1784).

[49] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 28.

[50] Majority Report, pars. 89–93; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 28, 29.

[51] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 92.

[52] Speech in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917.

[53] Mr. Archibald Hurd (“The Dardanelles Report,” _Fortnightly

Review_, April 1917, pp. 587, 591) considers that a military force

“was apparently a part of the original scheme.” But the whole evidence

of the Report and of Mr. Churchill’s speech of March 20, 1917, appears

to be against him.

[54] Speech in House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard, 1789). Cf.

Majority Report, par. 94, and Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 29, 32.

[55] Majority Report, par. 95.

[56] Majority Report, par. 96; Mr. Roch’s Minute, pars. 32, 33.

[57] Mr. Asquith in the House of Commons, March 20, 1917 (Hansard,

1752).

[58] Majority Report, pars. 100–103; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 38.

[59]

“Nor was his name unheard or unadored

In ancient Greece; and in Ausonian land

Men call’d him Mulciber; and how he fell

From heaven they fabled, thrown by angry Jove

Sheer o’er the crystal battlements: from morn

To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve,

A summer’s day; and with the setting sun

Dropt from the zenith like a falling star,

On Lemnos, the Ægean isle.”

_Paradise Lost_, Book I.

[60] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, by William Harold Price,

sometime Chaplain of the _Triumph_.

[61] _“Manchester Guardian” History of the War._

[62] _The Immortal Gamble_, by A. T. Stewart and C. J. E. Peshall

of the _Cornwallis_, p. 10.

[63] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 97.

[64] _Ibid._, pars. 78–82.

[65] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, pp. 38–40.

[66] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 97.

[67] _With the Fleet in the Dardanelles_, p. 66; the

_Triumph_ was one of ships detailed for this operation.

[68] Dardanelles Commission; Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 43.

[69] It appears to have been on this occasion that the King, yielding

to the representations of M. Venizelos in favour of actively sharing

in the Dardanelles enterprise, exclaimed, “So be it then, for the love

of God!” See M. Venizelos’ speech to the Chamber in Athens, August 26,

1917 (_The Times_, August 31).

[70] Mr. Roch’s Minute, par. 43; Mr. Churchill’s speech on March 20,

1917 (Hansard, 1793). Unhappily, M. Venizelos resigned on March 6,

1915, owing to Constantine’s renewed opposition to a combination with

the Allies.

[71] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 109.

[72] Dardanelles Commission; Majority Report, par. 111.

[73] In _What of the Dardanelles?_ Mr. Martin Fortescue, an

American correspondent, gives a brief but interesting criticism of this

unfortunate action from the Turkish-German point of view (pp. 27–47).

As seen from the _Cornwallis_ the action is described in _The

Immortal Gamble_, pp. 45–53.

[74] The total British casualties during the whole naval enterprise

were 350; on March 18 they were 61.

[75] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, par. 119. Speaking of this

naval attack, Dr. Stürmer writes: “To their great astonishment the

gallant defenders of the coast forts found that the attack had suddenly

ceased. Dozens of the German naval gunners who were manning the

batteries of Chanak on that memorable day told me later that they had

quite made up their minds the fleet would ultimately win, and that they

themselves could not have held out much longer.”--_Two War Years in

Constantinople_, p. 84.

[76] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 115, 119.

[77] _With the Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, by Chaplain D.

Creighton, p. 23.

[78] Dardanelles Commission; First Report, pars. 107, 108.

[79] See Sir Ian Hamilton’s first dispatch.

[80] The formation and subsequent exploits of this peculiar body are

described by Colonel Patterson himself in _With the Zionists in

Gallipoli_.

[81] For the history of the Australians in Egypt and Gallipoli,

see _Australia in Arms_, by Phillip Schuler, the fine young

correspondent of _The Age_, Melbourne. To the deep regret of all

who knew him, he was afterwards killed by a chance shell while teaching

cookery to some men in France. Everything written by Captain Bean and

Mr. Malcolm Ross, the authorised correspondents for Australia and New

Zealand respectively, is also invaluable for history.

[82] One of these transports, the _Manitou_, had a narrow escape

upon the voyage from Egypt. She was attacked by a Turkish destroyer,

whose captain courteously gave an opportunity for removing the men

in their boats. In the hurry two of the boats were overturned and

fifty-one men drowned. The enemy destroyer, apprehending the approach

of British ships, then drew in close, and fired three torpedoes, all of

which passed under the transport, the range being too short to allow a

torpedo to rise after its plunge. The destroyer was afterwards driven

ashore in Asia by two of our destroyers and broken up.--See _The

Immortal Gamble_, p. 67.

[83] See also _Charles Lister_, by Lord Ribblesdale, p. 164.

Charles Lister himself was one of the young men of brilliant promise

whose death was due to the Gallipoli campaign. After gallant service in

the Hood Battalion of the Royal Naval Division at Helles, he died of

his third wound, August 28, 1915.

[84] Thucydides, vi. 32; Diodorus, xiii. 3. From Athens herself only

about 3000 of the troops for the Sicilian expedition started. It is

curious to remember that Plato was a boy in Ægina at the time, and

probably watched the race.

[85] _The Immortal Gamble_, pp. 72–82 and 98–104 (account by

Captain Davidson, who went ashore himself).

[86] Besides the names here mentioned, Vice-Admiral de Robeck in his

dispatch especially noticed Able Seaman William Williams (killed),

Seaman George M‘Kenzie Samson (dangerously wounded), Lieutenant John

A. V. Morse, R.N., and Surgeon P. B. Kelly, R.N., as rendering great

and perilous service at this landing.

[87] For this incident and others at V Beach, see _The Immortal

Gamble_, pp. 81–92, besides Sir Ian Hamilton’s and Admiral de

Robeck’s dispatches.

[88] Sir Ian Hamilton’s first dispatch, “The Gallipoli Landing.”

[89] See Mr. Ashmead Bartlett’s dispatches, “Seddel Bahr Landing,” p.

92. Mr. Bartlett was not present, being at the Anzac landing, and Sir

Ian’s dispatch mentions only the company at the foot of Cape Tekke on

the left.

[90] Excellent personal accounts of W Beach landing by three 1st

Lancashire officers are given in _With the Twenty-ninth Division_,

pp. 57–63. It is hard to choose between the three; but I give some

sentences from Major Adams, who had been twenty-five years in the

regiment, and was killed a few days later, as were the other two: “As

the boats touched the shore a very heavy and brisk fire was poured

into us, several officers and men being killed and wounded in the

entanglements, through which we were trying to cut a way. Several

of my company were with me under the wire, one of my subalterns was

killed next to me, and also the wire-cutter who was lying the other

side of me. I seized his cutter and cut a small lane myself, through

which a few of us broke and lined up under the only available cover

procurable--a small sand ridge covered with bluffs of grass. I then

ordered fire to be opened on the crests; but owing to submersion in the

water and dragging rifles through the sand, the breech mechanism was

clogged, thereby rendering the rifles ineffective. The only thing left

to do was to fix bayonets and charge up the crests, which was done in a

very gallant manner, though we suffered greatly in doing so. However,

this had the effect of driving the enemy from his trenches, which we

immediately occupied.... In my company alone I had 95 casualties out of

205 men.”

A still more detailed account of the Lancashire landing, specially

describing the services of Major Frankland (killed while trying to

take assistance to V Beach about 8.30 a.m.) and of Captains Willis,

Shaw, Cunliffe, and Haworth, is given in an additional chapter by Major

Farmar (Lancashire Fusiliers) at the end of the same book, pp. 175–191.

[91] Beside Sir Ian’s dispatch, see Colonel Newenham’s own account in

_With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 55–57.

[92] Authorities differ widely as to the number of boats to each tow,

but four appears to be right, though six was more usual.

[93] During the Anzac landing, Mr. Ashmead Bartlett was in the

_London_, and his account was unusually brilliant, even for

that brilliant writer. Besides that and Sir Ian’s dispatch, the

best published account is in _Australia in Arms_, pp. 94–114.

Mr. Schuler was not present, but he had the advantage of going over

the ground and discussing the action thoroughly. I had the same

advantages, especially owing to the generous assistance of the Anzac

correspondents, Captain Bean and Mr. Malcolm Ross.

[94] _Uncensored Letter from the Dardanelles_, by a French Medical

Officer, pp. 44–74.

[95] _The Immortal Gamble_, p. 147.

[96] _Australia in Arms_, p. 122.

[97] Having held it with skill and resolution for a month, Major Quinn

was himself killed there in a furious attempt which the Turks made to

mine and break through the position (May 29).

[98] From an account privately written by a friend who knew

Doughty-Wylie intimately, I may quote the following sentences: “As the

result of many wounds, he had suffered in health and had transferred

from the army to the Consular Service, and had spent some years in Asia

Minor. I arrived in Adana after the massacres in 1909, just before he

left for Abyssinia, and stayed at the Consulate, learning much from

him about those terrible days of the preceding April. My memories

are permeated with a sense of his oneness with all the warring sects

in that fanatical province. He was the emblem of what they needed:

unity--greatness of heart and mind--an entire absence of self-seeking

or pride.... An Armenian girl described the scene to me: ‘We were all

in a church, hundreds of us huddled together, and the Turks set light

to it. But he came, the Consul Anglais. He forced his way through the

mob, and we saw his face. “Come, my children,” he called to us, and

we followed him out. Like frightened sheep we were, but he calmed us

and led us to safety.’ ... ‘The oppressor is often in the right, and

the oppressed always,’ he used playfully to quote to me.” A permanent

monument to Doughty-Wylie and Walford was erected in Seddel Bahr.

[99] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 191.

[100] The battalions in the brigades were: 125th Brigade, the 5th, 6th,

7th, and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers; 126th Brigade, the 4th and 5th East

Lancashire, and the 9th and 10th Manchester; the 127th Brigade, the

5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Manchester.

[101] In _Australia in Arms_, pp. 136–139, Phillip Schuler gives a

detailed account, obviously derived from officers who were present.

[102] Sir Ian’s dispatch; and _Australia in Arms_, pp. 139–142.

[103] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 189. The one surviving

officer of the Dublin Fusiliers was Lieutenant O’Hara, afterwards

mortally wounded at Suvla Bay.

[104] _The Immortal Gamble_, p. 145.

[105] Abdul Hamid died at last in Constantinople, February 1918.

[106] The submarine campaign began with E2, 11, 14, and 15; four or

five were subsequently added. Some were lost. On May 25 the E11 also

torpedoed the transport _Stamboul_ inside the Golden Horn, causing

great panic. On April 30 the Australian AE2 had been lost at the

entrance of Marmora. Her crew were taken prisoner.

[107] For the state of Constantinople at this time, see _Inside

Constantinople_, by Lewis Einstein, special agent at the American

Embassy, and _Two War Years in Constantinople_, by Dr. Harry

Stürmer, correspondent of the _Kölnische Zeitung_, but a writer of

decidedly pro-Entente sympathies.

[108] In this attack Mr. Asquith’s son Arthur (Hood Battalion), and

Lieutenant-Commander Josiah Wedgwood, M.P., who had come out with the

machine-gun section, were wounded.

[109] Compare Ashmead Bartlett’s _Dispatches from the

Dardanelles_, p. 118.

[110] John Masefield’s account of the soldier’s mind in this battle is

a fine instance of imaginative sympathy. _Gallipoli_, pp. 72–81.

[111] This 2nd French Division was composed as follows: _3rd Brigade

Metropolitaine_ (C.O. Colonel Ruef), comprising the 176ème Régiment

d’Infanterie (Commandant Costemalle), and the 2ème Régiment de Marche

d’Afrique (Lieut.-Colonel Hautville); _Brigade Coloniale_ (C.O.

Général de Brigade Simonin, who afterwards commanded the division),

comprising the 7ème Régiment Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel Bordeaux), partly

Senegalese, and the 8ème Régiment Colonial (Lieut.-Colonel d’Adhémar),

also partly Senegalese. The Division had six batteries of “75’s” and

two of mountain guns. The Corps of the two Divisions had two regiments

of Chasseurs d’Afrique, four 120 mm. guns, four 155 mm. guns (long),

six 155 mm. guns (short), besides detachments of engineers, supply,

army service, and ambulance.

[112] The brigade consisted of the Wellington Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel

W. G. Malone, a splendid soldier and man, afterwards killed at Anzac),

the Auckland (Lieut.-Colonel A. Plugge), the Canterbury (Lieut.-Colonel

D. M. Stewart), and the Otago (Lieut.-Colonel T. W. M‘Donald).

[113] The 2nd Australian Brigade consisted of the 5th Victoria

Battalion (Lieut.-Colonel Wanliss), the 6th (Lieut.-Colonel M‘Nicol),

the 7th (Lieut.-Colonel Garside), and the 8th (Lieut.-Colonel Bolton).

[114] See _Australia in Arms_, pp. 143–156.

[115] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, p. 94.

[116] _Ibid._, p. 112.

[117] _Australia in Arms_, p. 158.

[118] _Australia in Arms_, p. 166.

[119] _The Immortal Gamble_, pp. 167–174. Lieutenant Cather,

R.N., went down with the _Goliath_, but was kept afloat by a

safety waistcoat. This he gave to a sailor much exhausted. Ultimately

he was himself rescued, and for some months commanded on the _River

Clyde_. It is impossible to mention all such heroic actions, but

hard to omit the deeds of personal friends. One midshipman, also

protected by a safety waistcoat, was found floating about two days and

nights after the disaster, but was too exhausted to live.

[120] Our casualties by the end of May were 38,600.

[121] “We went on board the _Implacable_ on the way back, where

I met Ashmead Bartlett, the official newspaper correspondent, who was

most pessimistic. ‘The best thing we could do was to evacuate the

place. This was developing into a major operation, and we had not the

troops for it. Achi Baba was untakable, except after months of siege

warfare’” (Diary for May 13, by the Rev. O. Creighton, _With the

Twenty-ninth Division in Gallipoli_, p. 90). After his fortunate

escape from the _Majestic_ as she sank, Mr. Ashmead Bartlett

returned to London for a short time, and a memorandum by him, strongly

criticising Sir Ian’s positions, and advising an attack on Bulair,

was considered by the “Dardanelles Committee” (_Second Dardanelles

Report_, p. 26).

[122] Such as Col. Crauford Stewart of the Hood (wounded) and Col.

Roberts, R.A. (Egyptian Army), of the Anson (killed).

[123] The original Collingwood, with the Hawke and Benbow Battalions,

crossed the Dutch frontier in retiring from Antwerp, and were interned.

The new battalions were left to complete their training in England,

when the R.N.D. sailed. Thus the Collingwood (Commander Spearman, R.N.)

was now for the first time under fire. The brother of Lieut.-Commander

Freyberg (see p. 120) was killed on this occasion. The Collingwood

relics and the Benbow were incorporated soon after this battle with

the Hood, Howe, and Anson Battalions as the 2nd Naval Brigade--an

arrangement resented on both sides, but inevitable owing to reduction

of men.

[124] Notes of the battle from hour to hour were taken by a French

medical officer (_Uncensored Letters from the Dardanelles_, pp.

121–125).

[125] This fine officer was killed in the battle of July 13.

[126] One brigade of the R.N.D. alone lost 60 officers.

[127] “The worst was that the wounded had not been got back, but lay

between ours and the Turks’ firing line. It was impossible to get at

some of them. The men said they could see them move. The firing went on

without ceasing.... The General had suggested putting up a white flag,

and some one going out to the wounded. They tried this later, but it

failed” (_With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 122, 123). Who the

General was is left uncertain. The passage is from a diary of June 5.

[128] _With the Twenty-ninth Division_, pp. 122–129. Of original

officers in this famous division, the South Wales Borderers now had the

most left. They had eight.

[129] The loss, unhappily, included Colonel Giraudon, Chief of the

Staff, who had been rashly put to command the 2nd Colonial Brigade of

the 1st Division on this occasion--a serious, brave, and intellectual

soldier. He was dangerously wounded, as was Colonel Noguès, commanding

the 6th Colonial Regiment in that brigade, who with his regiment had

distinguished himself greatly in the attack upon Kum Kali and elsewhere

(see _Uncensored Letters from the Dardanelles_, p. 137). Colonel

Giraudon returned to his position in the Dardanelles, and survived to

do excellent work in France, where he was, however, ultimately killed

in action.

[130] Account by Mr. Compton Mackenzie, who acted as authorised

correspondent for the London papers during Mr. Ashmead Bartlett’s

temporary absence.

[131] The division consisted of the 155th Brigade (Brig.-General J. F.

Erskine, succeeded by Lieut.-Colonel Pollok-M‘Call), containing the

4th and 5th Battalions Royal Scottish Fusiliers, and the 4th and 5th

Battalions K.O.S.B.; the 156th Brigade (Brig.-General Scott-Moncrieff,

killed on June 28; then Brig.-General H. G. Casson, succeeded by

Brig.-General L. C. Koe), containing the 4th and 7th Royal Scots, and

the 7th and 8th Scottish Rifles; and the 157th Brigade (Brig.-General

R. W. Hendry, succeeded by Brig.-General H. G. Casson), containing

the 5th, 6th, and 7th Highland Light Infantry, and the 5th Argyll and

Sutherland Highlanders.

[132] Now (spring, 1918) Commander-in-Chief in Mesopotamia in

succession to Sir Stanley Maude, who commanded the 13th Division during

the later part of the Dardanelles campaign.

[133] “Scenes of desperate fighting are plainly visible all around our

front line. On a small rise a little to the left (_i.e._ of our

advanced position up the Gully) lie half a dozen of our men killed in

the final advance, whom it had been impossible to get at and bury.

Right in front a line of khaki figures lie in perfect order only a few

yards away, yet the sniping is so heavy that even at night it is almost

impossible to bring them in. Farther up the ravine are heaps of Turkish

dead, piled together, who have fallen in the big counter-attack. In

a gorse patch farther to the left lie a further large number of the

enemy, mixed up with some of our men, for there seems to have been a

general mêlée in the open at dawn on the 29th, when our men issued

from their trenches and hunted the enemy out of the gorse, killing

large numbers of them.”--_Dispatches from the Dardanelles_, by E.

Ashmead Bartlett, p. 152 (July 4).

[134] _Uncensored Letters_, pp. 144–146.

[135] _Australia in Arms_, pp. 205–210.

[136] “A rough estimate of their number (Turkish troops) since

mobilisation is as follows: At the Dardanelles, 130,000; in Thrace,

30,000; at Constantinople and Chitaldja, 20,000; on the Bosphorus,

20,000; in the Caucasus, 60,000; at Bagdad and the Persian Gulf,

20,000; Syria, 30,000; Aleppo and Mersine, 30,000; Smyrna district,

30,000; gendarmerie, 30,000; at the depôts, 50,000; scattered, 30,000”

(_Inside Constantinople_, p. 125). This makes a total of 480,000,

and the writer estimates that Turkey had by that time (June 18, 1915)

lost 260,000, including 100,000 on Gallipoli. But these statistics are

probably of little more than Turkish value.

As to the neglect to supply the Dardanelles Expedition with guns and

shells, it must, of course, be remembered that they were then short on

all fronts, and it was only in the beginning of June that Mr. Lloyd

George was appointed to a Ministry of Munitions.

[137] This destruction of a signal and telegraph station was probably

the incident referred to at the end of Sir Ian’s second dispatch. He

tells how Corporal G. A. Walker, R.E., although much shaken, repaired

the damage, collected men, and within 39 minutes reopened communication

by apologising for the incident and saying he required no assistance.

Twelve were killed or wounded, beside the officer on duty, killed.

[138] This was the German General Weber, commanding the “Southern

Group” on the Peninsula. He was superseded by Vehib Pasha, “a grim and

fanatical Turk,” the change causing great discontent among the Germans.

“In this case, the Turkish point of view prevailed, for General Liman

von Sanders, Commander-in-Chief of the Gallipoli Army, was determined

not to lose his post, and agreed slavishly with all that Enver Pasha

ordained” (_Two War Years in Constantinople_, p. 46).

[139] See note on p. 223.

[140] The _Aragon_ was torpedoed in the Mediterranean, January

1918.

[141] First Dardanelles Commission Report, par. 14, note. It seems to

have been a section of the “War Committee” established by the Coalition

Government of May 19.

[142] This estimate does not include the French casualties, which are

not published.

[143]

The 13th Division consisted of the following brigades:

38th (Brigadier-General Baldwin)--

6th Royal Lancashire, 6th East Lancashire, 6th South

Lancashire, and 6th North Lancashire.

39th (Brigadier-General W. de S. Cayley)--

9th Royal Warwick, 7th Gloucester, 9th Worcester, and

7th North Stafford.

40th (Brigadier-General J. H. du B. Travers)--

4th South Wales Borderers, 8th Royal Welsh Fusiliers,

8th Cheshire, and 5th Wilts.

The 8th Welsh Regiment were Divisional Pioneers.

[144]

The 11th Division consisted of the following brigades:

32nd (Brigadier-General H. Haggard)--

9th West York, 6th Yorkshire, 8th West Riding, and 6th

York and Lancaster.

33rd (Brigadier-General R. P. Maxwell)--

6th Lincolnshire, 6th Border, 7th South Stafford, and 9th

Sherwood Foresters.

34th (Brigadier-General W. H. Sitwell)--

8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 9th Lancashire Fusiliers,

5th Dorset, and 11th Manchester.

The 6th East Yorkshire were Divisional Pioneers.

[145]

The 10th Division consisted of the following brigades:

29th (Brigadier-General R. J. Cooper)--

10th Hampshire, 6th Royal Irish Rifles, 5th Connaught

Rangers, and 6th Leinster.

30th (Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol)--

6th and 7th Royal Munster Fusiliers, 6th and 7th Royal

Dublin Fusiliers.

31st (Brigadier-General F. F. Hill)--

5th and 6th Inniskilling Fusiliers, 5th and 6th Royal Irish

Fusiliers.

The 5th Royal Irish Regiment were Divisional Pioneers. Only about 60

per cent. of the men in these battalions were Irish, the rest being

chiefly North-country miners and Somerset. For the complete list of the

battalions in this Division, the Artillery, Engineers, etc., see _The

Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, by Major Bryan Cooper, pp. 2

and 3.

[146] I am unable to give the exact formations of these Divisions.

The battalions were changed shortly before they left England. From

dispatches and other sources, however, one can make the following list:

_53rd (Welsh) Division_:

158th Brigade (Brigadier-General E. A. Cowans)--

5th, 6th, and 7th Royal Welsh Fusiliers, and the 1/1st

Herefordshire.

159th Brigade (Brigadier-General F. C. Lloyd)--

4th and 7th Cheshires, and the 4th and 5th Welsh.

160th Brigade (Brigadier-General J. J. F. Hume)--

4th Queen’s (Royal West Surrey), 4th Royal Sussex, a

composite Kent Battalion, and the 10th Middlesex.

_54th (East Anglian) Division_:

161st Brigade (Brigadier-General C. M. Brunton)--

4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th Essex.

162nd Brigade (Brigadier-General C. de Winton)--

10th and 11th London, 5th Bedfordshire, and 4th Northants.

163rd Brigade (Brigadier-General Brunker, later under F. F. W.

Daniell)--

4th and 5th Norfolks, 5th Suffolks, and 8th Hants.

[147] _Uncensored Letters_, p. 170. There were 10 French planes.

[148] Our estimates of the enemy’s forces for the days of fighting in

August were:

+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+

| Date. | Suvla.| Anzac. | Helles.| Reserve. |

+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+

|August 6–7 | 3,000 | 25,000 | 33,000 | 39,000 |

| „ 8 | 5,000 | 31,000 | 33,000 | 20,000[A]|

| „ 9 | 7,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 20,000[B]|

| „ 10 | 9,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 25,000 |

| „ 11 | 13,000 | 38,000 | 33,000 | 25,000 |

| „ 15 | 20,000 | 47,000 | 15,000 | 12,000 |

| „ 22 | 26,000 | 41,000 | 15,000 | 12,000 |

+-----------+--------+--------+--------+----------+

[A] 11,000 marching south. [B] 2000 marching south.

[149] Part of this small and undisciplined body actually landed, but

meeting with opposition rapidly withdrew to the ship in characteristic

disorder, assuming their object to be accomplished.

[150]

“_Special Order_.

“GENERAL HEADQUARTERS,

MEDITERRANEAN EXPEDITIONARY FORCE,

_August 5, 1915_.

“SOLDIERS OF THE OLD ARMY AND THE NEW.--Some of you have

already won imperishable renown at our first landing, or have since

built up our footholds upon the Peninsula, yard by yard, with deeds

of heroism and endurance. Others have arrived just in time to take

part in our next great fight against Germany and Turkey, the would-be

oppressors of the rest of the human race.

“You, veterans, are about to add fresh lustre to your arms. Happen

what may, so much at least is certain.

“As to you, soldiers of the new formations, you are privileged indeed

to have the chance vouchsafed you of playing a decisive part in

events which may herald the birth of a new and happier world. You

stand for the great cause of freedom. In the hour of trial remember

this, and the faith that is in you will bring you victoriously

through.

“IAN HAMILTON, _General_.”

[151] Here, as in other places, it is impossible to record individual

acts of courage, but the service of Lieut. W. T. Forshaw (9th

Manchesters) became almost a legend on the Peninsula. On the night

7th-8th, he was holding a northern corner of the vineyard with half a

company when he was attacked by a swarm of Turks converging down three

trenches. “He held his own, not only directing his men and encouraging

them by exposing himself with the utmost disregard of danger, but

personally throwing bombs continuously for forty-one hours. When his

detachment was relieved, after twenty-four hours, he volunteered to

continue the direction of operations. Three times during the night

of August 8–9 he was again heavily attacked, and once the Turks got

over the barricade; but after shooting three with his revolver he led

his men forward and recaptured it. When he rejoined his battalion he

was choked and sickened by bomb fumes, badly bruised by a fragment

of shrapnel, and could barely lift his arm from continuous bomb

throwing.”--Official Report for his V.C.

[152] Sir Ian’s Suvla dispatch; and _Australia in Arms_, pp.

221–223.

[153] The name was due to a repeated saying of Colonel J. L. Johnston

(11th West Australian Battalion), that if only he could bring howitzers

instead of field-guns to bear on it, he would have “a jolly good time

there.”--_Australia in Arms_, p. 188.

[154] _Australia in Arms_, p. 225. The author, Phillip Schuler,

was present, but it is noticeable that Captain C. E. W. Bean, who was

also present, does not directly mention this underground line.

[155] Of this eagerness, Capt. Bean, the Australian correspondent,

gives an example: “‘Is there any room up there?’ I heard a man in the

trench ask of those who were crouching under the parapet. One of the

men on the fire-step looked down. ‘I dare say we could make room for

one,’ he said. ‘Shift along, you blokes--we can squeeze in a little

one.’ The man in the trench was clearly relieved. ‘I want to get up

here along with Jim,’ he said. ‘Him and me are mates.’”--See the

Australian newspapers, October 17, 1915.

[156] As to these seventy prisoners (who were caught and disarmed in

one tunnel) and the Turkish wounded, Major-General Walker, commanding

the division, and my old schoolfellow at Shrewsbury, told me shortly

afterwards as we stood on the spot that, until they could be brought

safely across the open, they were carefully placed lying down in line

under the shelter of that white loopholed parapet as the most secure

place the Australians could find for their comfort.

[157] _Australia in Arms_, p. 238.

[158] Captain C. E. W. Bean, in the Australian papers, October 4, 1915.

[159] Captain C. E. W. Bean’s account in Australian papers of October

4, 1915. Phillip Schuler (_Australia in Arms_, p. 241) says his

words were: “Men, you have ten minutes to live,” and “Three minutes,

men.” But this is an unlikely utterance from so good an officer.

[160] Captain C. E. W. Bean in the Australian papers of November 2,

1915.

[161] The arrangement of these forces is given in Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[162] Captain Bean, Australian papers, October 14, 1915.

[163] See “From Quinn’s to Rhododendron,” in the _Chronicles of the

N.Z.E.F._, August 8, 1917.

[164] It was either on this position or upon a neighbouring knoll

known as Destroyer Hill that the following peculiar event occurred, as

narrated by Captain Bean (Australian papers, October 25, 1915): “The

Otago Battalion, which was clearing out the small trenches ahead of it

as its head wormed up the Chailak Ravine, swung up the slopes of this

hill. The battalion had just reached the shelf below the Table Top, and

was pushing up its line for the final rush over the hill when there

arose a strange uproar on the top above them. There was the sound of

the piling of arms, followed by vociferous cheering and wild rounds of

applause and hand-clapping. It was the Turks on the top of the hill who

had decided to surrender, and who did not want any mistake to be made

as to their intention.” The Otagos alone are said to have taken 250

prisoners that night (_Australia in Arms_, p. 253).

[165] Captain Bean, Australian papers, October 25. He adds: “I believe

that fifteen men actually managed to reach the Turkish trench on the

summit. They never came back.”

[166] Captain Bean’s account in Australian papers, October 25, 1915.

[167] Fortunately for the brigade, the Turks had withdrawn their guns

during the night (7th and 8th) owing to the Suvla landing, and had not

yet brought them back to W Hill.

[168] Sir Ian’s dispatch quotes the order.

[169] Phillip Schuler definitely says: “Mistaking the target, the

destroyers dropped 6-inch high-explosive shells amongst the Indian

troops” (_Australia in Arms_, p. 261). But, accurate though

he generally was, I believe he is here mistaken. I never heard the

destroyers mentioned at the time, and I doubt if their guns could have

shelled a _reverse_ slope. Further on (p. 263) he says that during

the Turkish counter-attack next day the _Anzac_ guns shelled “the

reverse slope.” If that was possible, another explanation besides the

one I suggest above may be considered.

[170] Apparently, it was mainly to this incident that Dr. Stürmer

referred in the following passage: “In those September” (he means

August) “days I had already had some experience of Turkish politics

and their defiance of the laws of humanity, and my sympathies were all

for those thousands of fine Colonial troops--such men as one seldom

sees--sacrificing their lives in one last colossal attack, which if

it had been prolonged even for another hour might have sealed the

fate of the Straits and would have meant the first decisive step

towards the overthrow of our forces; for the capture of Constantinople

would have been the beginning of the end.”--_Two War Years in

Constantinople_, p. 86.

[171] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[172] _The Story of the Anzacs_ (Messrs. Ingram & Son, Melbourne),

p. 87.

[173] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[174] For a detailed account of the four battalions in the 29th Brigade

during this action see _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_,

pp. 62–120. Two companies of the 5th Connaught Rangers (Colonel

Jourdain) went up to the Farm on the evening of the 10th after the

other troops had been withdrawn, and brought in many wounded whom they

found lying there in great need of water and attention.

[175] Phillip Schuler put them at 18,000 (_Australia in Arms_, p.

270).

[176] _Australia in Arms_, p. 271.

[177] Sir Ian’s dispatch twice mentions these batteries as the sole

land artillery. All three belonged to the 11th Division. Other

batteries of field-guns and howitzers arrived later, but we are

speaking of the Suvla first landing--the really critical time.

[178] Sir Ian in his dispatch reckons twelve 18-pounder guns and

eight mountain-guns as starting. Only the mountain-guns and four of

the 18-pounders were in action by August 8, but the 59th Brigade,

R.F.A., and the 4th Highland Mountain Brigade, R.G.A., were attached

to the 11th Division. On the 9th, two field batteries were on Lala

Baba. On August 13 to 15 the 58th Brigade also arrived at Suvla, and

was attached to the 10th Division. On the 19th a battery of the 4th

Howitzer Lowland Brigade, R.F.A., was placed in position on Lala Baba.

[179] Sir Ian’s dispatch gives a full account of the warships,

lighters, and trawlers sent with the landing-force, together with

details about the water-supply provided. He does not mention the large

transport _Minneapolis_, which I think must have taken the place

of the sloop Aster, for we certainly had batteries of mountain-guns

with their teams on board. She was a liner, taken over with all her

staff; and as instances of petrifying routine I remember that, as I

hoped to land at 4 a.m., I asked if one could get a cup of tea then,

and was haughtily informed, “On this ship breakfast is always at

8.30”; and later in the morning, when the fighting was at crisis, the

“stewards” were sweeping out the gangways with vacuum-cleaners as they

had swept for years. Habits of routine were, however, fatally disturbed

in the following spring when the _Minneapolis_ was torpedoed

between Egypt and Salonika.

[180] _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, p. 142.

[181] These fires appear to have arisen near the true Hill 10, which

was taken about this time by a mixed force of Northumberland Fusiliers,

Dorsets, and West Yorks, after a severe struggle against a redoubt

there.

[182] Sir Ian’s dispatch says the naval authorities were unwilling to

land them at A Beach “for some reason not specified.” Considering what

misfortune had already happened there, the above explanation appears to

me at least sufficient. But A East and A West had been discovered by

the navy before the unfortunate landing at B Beach began.

[183] _The Tenth (Irish) Division at Gallipoli_, pp. 125 and 140.

[184] So Major Bryan Cooper in _The Tenth (Irish) Division_,

p. 129. My impression at the time was of no rush, but a calm though

laborious trudge. Major Cooper, however, continues: “The 7th Dublins

in particular were much encouraged by the example of their Colonel....

While every one else was dashing swiftly across the neck, or keeping

close under cover, it is recorded that Colonel Downing--a man of

unusual height and girth--stood in the centre of the bullet-swept zone,

quietly twisting his stick.” “Dashing swiftly across” that sand would,

I think, be impossible under any impulse, and cover did not exist;

at least I never found it, though I toiled over that spit many dozen

times, and it always remained exposed to shell-fire from W Hill.

[185] The movements of Hill’s battalions, and their relation to

Sitwell’s are difficult to follow, chiefly owing to the changes of

command and intention. After speaking of these changes, Sir Ian in his

dispatch continues: “I have failed in my endeavours to get some live

human detail about the fighting which followed.” The detail has now

been largely supplied by Major Bryan Cooper in _The Tenth (Irish)

Division in Gallipoli_, pp. 127–135. In the main, I have followed

his account, the chief outstanding difficulty being the presence of

the 6th Lincoln and 6th Border Battalions, which did not belong to

Sitwell’s or Haggard’s Brigades, but to Maxwell’s (the 33rd). Major

Cooper says two battalions of the 11th Division reinforced Hill’s

column, and Sir Ian mentions those two as distinguished at the taking

of the hill. But how they came to be under Sitwell’s command, or under

Hill’s, is not yet clear. I can only suppose that, as Sitwell’s force

could not or did not move, General Hammersley ordered Maxwell to send

them over from Lala Baba. After Brigadier-General Haggard was wounded,

Colonel J. O‘B. Minogue (9th W. Yorks) took temporary command of the

32nd Brigade.

[186] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[187] For an account of the thirst, see Sir Ian’s dispatch and _The

Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 137, 145, 148, 157–158. Also _Suvla

Bay and After_, by Juvenis, pp. 37, 40–43, where the services of the

destroyer to the 10th Division are mentioned.

[188] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[189] The water question was much disputed at the time, and many

contradictory versions were given. I have here followed the account

given me in recent (1917) conversation by a naval officer who was

closely connected with the superintendence of the landing. The real

causes of the thirst, in any case, were the want of receptacles and the

distance from the firing line. As to the failure at A Beach, it must of

course be remembered that the naval chart was old and useless, and no

survey had been possible without betraying the point chosen for landing.

[190] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[191] So as not to interrupt the narrative, one is obliged to mention

only in a note the remarkable achievement of our submarines on this

critical and unfortunate day. In order to help E14, which was already

in the Sea of Marmora, E11 had forced her way through the nets in the

Straits, and on the 8th torpedoed a Turkish warship coming down towards

Maidos with reinforcements.

[192] Turkish information has since shown that Liman von Sanders had

brought up two divisions (7th and 12th) by forced marches from Xeros.

[193] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 158–161.

[194] One of these was called A East, the other A West. Between them

was Kangaroo Beach, where the Australian Bridging Train built a

landing-stage. They also built a very useful little pier close to the

“cut” into the Salt Lake, chiefly for the service of the wounded being

taken off to hospital ships. Of the Suvla beaches A West was the most

generally used, though a small harbour was afterwards blasted out of

the rocks at the extreme point.

[195] _The “Times” History of the War_, chap. cxii. p. 198.

[196] A detailed account of this small but gallant action is given in

_The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_, pp. 161–180.

[197] The daring of the Turkish snipers, who crept across our lines at

night and perched in the small trees, was proved when, on September

8, General Inglefield’s horse was shot under him as he rode along the

beach from Anzac.

[198] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[199] _Ibid._

[200] In the spring of 1916, General Peyton commanded the successful

expedition against the Senussi, west of Egypt.

[201] The brigades were composed as follows:

(1) _1st South Midland_ (Brigadier-General Wiggin)--

Warwickshire and Worcestershire Yeomanry, Gloucestershire Hussars.

(2) _2nd South Midland_ (Brigadier-General Lord Longford)--

Bucks Hussars, Berks and Dorset Yeomanry.

(3) _North Midland_ (Brigadier-General F. A. Kenna, V.C.)--

Derbyshire Yeomanry, Sherwood Rangers, South Notts Hussars.

(4) _London Brigade_ (Brigadier-General Scatters Wilson)--

City of London Roughriders, 1st County of London Middlesex

Hussars, 3rd County of London Sharpshooters.

_Divisional Cavalry_--

Westminster Dragoons, Herts Yeomanry.

[202] The two brigades (30th and 31st) of the 10th Division, at Suvla,

having lost nearly three-quarters of their officers and half the men,

were withdrawn to rest near Suvla Beach on August 17, and on August 22

General F. F. Hill, the trusted Brigadier of the 31st, was invalided

away with dysentery. As previously noticed, he was succeeded in

command by Brigadier-General J. G. King-King, General Staff Officer

(1).--_The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 208.

[203] _The “Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 205.

[204] It was unfortunate that, standing beside a machine-gun at the

front parapet of Chocolate Hill, I was just at that moment struck

on the head by shrapnel, and so was unable to witness the confused

advance which led to the failure. By the time I returned to my

position at 4.15, the mistake had been made. It may, perhaps, be

medically interesting that for the previous forty-eight hours I had

been suffering from high fever, but the violent rush of blood from the

wound appeared to reduce the temperature, and at night I walked to the

dressing-station at Suvla Point in perfect health, except for mere pain

and exhaustion.

[205] Sir Ian’s dispatch. In a Supplementary Dispatch the 9th Sherwood

Foresters and 6th Borders were also specially mentioned.

[206] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[207] As usual throughout this history, I have found it impossible to

record the countless instances of individual bravery, but I may mention

the case of Captain O’Sullivan (1st Inniskilling Fusiliers). Early in

July, describing one of the actions at Helles, Sir Ian had written: “A

young fellow called O’Sullivan, in the Inniskilling Fusiliers, led a

bombing party into one end of an enemy trench, and cleared it of the

enemy. The Turks counter-attacked with bombs, and drove him and his men

out with a good deal of loss. Again he cleared the trench, filling his

pockets and belt with bombs. Again he was driven back. A third time he

led the attack, and this time the trench was held and remains in our

possession. Within an hour of this last feat of arms, a trench was lost

to the right in prolongation of the Inniskilling Fusiliers. This same

young fellow, who had already gone through enough to shake the nerves

of the most veteran soldiers, led his company down into the trench

himself, running along a few yards ahead of them out on the parapet,

exposed to a tremendous musketry fire, chucking bombs into the trench

just in front of the leading files, so as to clear the way for them.

There is a limit to luck, and this time he was wounded, but I hope he

may pull through.” He pulled through, and on August 21 twice led his

company up against the Turkish trenches on Scimitar Hill, and twice

was driven back. Collecting the men in a little hollow of the ground,

he said, “Now I depend on you, my lads, and we’ll just have one more

charge for the honour of the regiment.” He led them all by a clear 20

yards up the hill, leapt into the trench, and there died.

[208] Brigadier-General R. S. Vandeleur succeeded to the command of

this brigade on September 22.

[209] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, pp. 188–192. Until that volume

appeared, the Connaught Rangers had not received the public credit due

to this serviceable exploit, though in Gallipoli they were spoken of

with the highest praise.

[210] During the night Captain Gilleson, the Presbyterian chaplain

of the 14th Australian (Victoria) Battalion, worked incessantly at

bringing the wounded back to safety. After daylight next morning, still

hearing cries from the exposed slope over the crest of the ridge, he

crept out and found a British soldier (probably Hants or Connaught

Rangers) wounded and tormented by ants. With help of two others (one

also a Presbyterian chaplain) he had dragged the man about a yard when

he fell mortally wounded. The man, I believe, was also killed; the

Presbyterian was wounded. Later on (August 28) Captain Grant, a New

Zealand padre (the form of religion was not mentioned to me at the

time) went searching for a wounded friend along a trench filled with

dead and wounded Turks. To the wounded he attended on his way; but

hearing conversation farther on, he thought he recognised his friend’s

voice. Turning a sharp corner of a traverse, he came face to face with

the Turks, and was instantly killed.

Both Captain C. E. W. Bean (Australian papers, Oct. 28, 1915) and

Phillip Schuler (_Australia in Arms_, p. 275) mention these

incidents, which were described to me on the spot a few days after they

happened. Taken with Sir Ian’s dispatch, these two authorities give a

clear idea of the confused fighting around Hill 60. For the action of

the Connaught Rangers, _The Tenth (Irish) Division in Gallipoli_

should be read, as mentioned above. For myself, I had the great

advantage of going over the ground with General A. H. Russell a day or

two after the final action of August 29.

[211] Lieut.-Colonel C. W. Gwynn was Chief of Staff. The Division

consisted of:

_5th Australian Brigade_ (Brigadier-General W. Holmes)--17th,

18th, 19th, and 20th Battalions.

_6th Australian Brigade_ (Colonel R. S. Browne)--21st, 22nd,

23rd, and 24th Battalions.

_7th Australian Brigade_ (Colonel J. Burston)--25th, 26th, 27th,

and 28th Battalions.

[212] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 197.

[213] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 199.

[214] One of the transports (the _Southland_), conveying a

battalion of the 2nd Australian Division, was torpedoed on September 2,

thirty-one miles from Mudros. The firemen took to the boats, but the

engineers kept sufficient head of steam to work the pumps and electric

light. Finding she was filling only slowly, they called for soldier

volunteers to help with the stoking, and in an hour got steam up to

the blowing-off point. The destroyer _Racoon_, which had come

alongside, was then able to supply practised stokers, and they, with

the engineers, stoked the boilers into Mudros harbour.

[215] “It was not entirely an easy matter to assimilate these

reinforcements. As a rule, a draft is a comparatively small body of men

which easily adopts the character of the unit in which it is merged. In

Gallipoli, however, units had been so much reduced in strength that in

some cases the draft was stronger than the battalion that it joined,

while it almost invariably increased the strength of what was left of

the original unit to half as much again. As a result, after two or

three drafts had arrived, the old battalions had been swamped.”--_The

Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 235.

[216] _The Tenth (Irish) Division_, p. 229. The 54th Brigade

remained in Egypt.

[217] During this period of comparative inaction, it was announced

that Flight-Lieutenant Edmonds in a seaplane sank a Turkish transport

full of reinforcements with a heavy bomb, and that a submarine sank a

transport of 11-inch guns in the Sea of Marmora (September 7).--_The

“Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 211.

[218] The full speech is quoted in _Nelson’s History of the War_,

by Colonel John Buchan, vol. xi. p. 18.

[219] See Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch on the Dardanelles evacuation.

[220] The further history of the 10th Division (which I visited once

more among the mountains beyond Lake Doiran), as well as of the whole

Salonika campaign up to summer 1917, is told in _The Story of the

Salonika Army_, by my colleague, Mr. G. Ward Price.

[221] Colonel John Buchan puts the number at 13,000 (_Nelson’s

History of the War_, xi. 26).

[222] See the speech of Venizelos to the Athenian Chamber, August 26,

1917.

[223] Belgrade fell to Mackensen on October 9; the Bulgarians crossed

the Serbian frontier on the 11th, occupied Uskub on the 22nd, and

Nish on November 5, thus opening direct railway communication between

the Central Powers and Constantinople through Sofia. Monastir fell on

December 2, and by the middle of that month the Serbian army and the

Allies had been entirely driven out of Serbian territory.

[224] Sir Ian’s dispatch, last section but two.

[225] Sir Ian’s dispatch.

[226] Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch (March 6, 1916).

[227] Sir Charles Monro’s dispatch (March 6, 1916).

[228] Speech in the House of Commons, November 2, 1915.

[229] See _The “Times” History of the War_, Part 84, p. 213. It is

worth noticing that on November 18, Lord Ribblesdale in the House of

Lords declared that it was common knowledge that Sir Charles Monro had

“reported in favour of withdrawal from the Dardanelles, and adversely

to the continuance of winter operations there.” One can only suppose

that, in saying this, Lord Ribblesdale deliberately intended to mislead

the enemy, who could hardly believe so rash a betrayal of intention

could be made with impunity, if the statement were true.

[230] Lord Kitchener’s original objection to evacuation may perhaps

be supported by a passage in an article by Dr. E. J. Dillon

(_Fortnightly Review_, February 1918): “The evacuation of

Gallipoli was not warranted in the light of all the elements of the

problem, because from the point of view of the Coalition it meant the

asphyxiation of Russia and her ultimate disappearance as a belligerent,

and to ward off this calamity the sacrifice of several warships would

not have been excessive.”

[231] See _Australia in Arms_, pp. 284, 285. The fate of those

suffocated by fumes perhaps caused the rumour that the Turks used

poison gas. I never heard an authentic case of this, though at one time

we were all ordered to carry gas-masks.

[232] That little animosity existed on the Turkish side either is shown

by the following note which I made early in December, though I cannot

date the incident precisely: “The community of human nature between men

who are out to kill each other was lately shown here by an interval

of friendliness, as often in France. It began with the wagging of a

Turkish periscope over the sandbags. One of the Australians (it was at

Anzac) wagged his periscope in answer. Then Turkish hands were held up,

moving the fingers together in the Turkish sign of amity. Presently

heads appeared on both sides, the few words that could be understood

were said, cigarettes and fruit were thrown from one side to the other,

and a note, written in bad French, was thrown to the Australians,

saying, ‘We don’t want to fight you. We want to go home. But we are

driven on by the people you know about.’ I presume that meant the

Germans. Then signs were made that an officer was approaching. The

heads disappeared, and bombs were thrown from trench to trench in place

of fruit.”

[233] The figures for Suvla, as given me by the Staff at the time, were

44,000 men; 90 guns of all calibre, including one anti-aircraft gun;

3000 mules; 400 horses; 30 donkeys; 1800 carts; 4000 to 5000 cartloads

of stores.

[234] The account of the Suvla evacuation is founded on notes I made

at the time and on an article of mine which passed the Military Censor

two days after the event, but was not published in full till I received

General Birdwood’s permission in the following spring. It is perhaps

worth while here contradicting the report that the Turks were bribed

to allow the army to withdraw without opposition. That malignant

depreciation of a most skilful enterprise was a libel both on the enemy

and on our own officers and men. There was not a vestige of truth in it.

[235] The following rough estimate of the Turkish forces was made by

the General Staff about a week before the evacuation:

+-----------------------------+---------+---------+

| Place. |Regiment.| Number. |

+-----------------------------+---------+---------+

|_Suvla Lines_-- | | |

| Kiretch Tepe | 126th | 2100 |

| At foot of Kiretch Tepe | 127th | 3000 |

| Farther in plain | 33rd | 3000 |

| Anafarta plain | 79th |Uncertain|

| Farther south | 35th |Uncertain|

| Still farther south | 34th | 1800 |

| Near Scimitar Hill | 66th |Uncertain|

| Foot of W Hill | 25th | 2400 |

| Opposite Hetman Chair | 66th |Uncertain|

|_Anzac Lines_-- | | |

| Opposite Kabak Kuyu | 17th | 1600 |

| Opposite Hill 60 | 16th | 1200 |

| Upper Asma Dere | 20th | 1800 |

| Abdel Rahman Bair | 19th | 2300 |

| Koja Chemen Tepe | 24th | 2000 |

| The Farm | 22nd | 1800 |

| Battleship Hill | 48th | 2000 |

| Opposite Russell’s Top | 72nd | 2000 |

| In reserve there | 48th |Uncertain|

| Opposite Quinn’s | 27th | 2000 |

| German Officers’ and | | |

| Johnston’s Jolly | 57th | 2000 |

| Lone Pine | 125th | 1600 |

| South of Lone Pine | 47th | 1800 |

| Leane’s Trench | 36th | 1000 |

| Extreme south to Gaba Tepe | 77th | 2700 |

+-----------------------------+---------+---------+

Three regiments were in reserve at Suvla, and three at Anzac. The Army

Headquarters were just south of Koja Dere; Corps Headquarters in the

north behind Anafarta Sagir; in the south at Koja Dere. There were

large camps at Ejelmer Bay and Turchen Keui (a few miles inland from

the bay) in the north, and at Koja Dere in the south.

At Helles the numbers were then uncertain or not available, but the

following regiments were posted opposite our lines from our left to

right:

+------------------------------+---------+

| Place. |Regiment.|

+------------------------------+---------+

|West of Gully Ravine | 70th |

|East of Gully Ravine | 71st |

|West of Krithia Nullah | 124th |

|East of Krithia Nullah | 38th |

|On Achi Baba Nullah | 45th |

|Between that and Kerevez Dere | 56th |

|In Kerevez Dere | 55th |

|Opposite Fort Gouez | 42nd |

|Overlooking the Strait | 41st |

+------------------------------+---------+

Taking an average of 2000 per regiment, this gives a total of 18,000,

apart from reserves; but it is a low estimate. The Headquarters were at

Ali Bey Farm.

[236] The 11th Division (Major-General Fanshawe) now held the Xeros

shore and the Kiretch Tepe Sirt. On the broad and deeply ravined

undercliff below Jephson’s Post, and even beyond it, the 32nd Brigade

(9th West Yorks, 6th Yorkshire, 8th West Riding, and 6th York and

Lancaster) had elaborately entrenched and fortified positions which

they called the “Green Knoll” and “The Boot.” Brigadier-General Dallas

was justifiably proud of the work and of his Yorkshire Brigade. After

going round the complicated trenches with me on December 11, he

whispered sorrowfully, “Pity to leave them! Pity to leave them!” And

to the last he went from man to man, adjuring one to shave, another to

wash his shirt, and all to keep smart whatever happened. To such temper

the difficult operation owed its success.

[237] The management of their mules by the Indians was remarkable. They

controlled those incalculable animals as though they were trained dogs.

It was pathetic that the Indians mistook the name of their destination

(Mudros) for Madras. “Do you want to go to India so much, then?” an

officer asked. “Does a man want to go to heaven?” was the reply.

[238] Beside my personal observation during visits from Suvla in

the final days, my chief authorities upon the Anzac evacuation are

Phillip Schuler’s _Australia in Arms_, an officer’s diary in the

_“Manchester Guardian’s” History of the War_, Part 43, p. 187; Sir

Charles Monro’s dispatch; and conversation with men who were present.

A German correspondent with the Turks on the night of the evacuation

wrote in the _Vossische Zeitung_ of January 21, 1916: “So long as

wars exist, the British evacuation of the Ari Burnu and Anafarta fronts

will stand before the eyes of all strategists of retreat as a hitherto

quite unattained masterpiece.”

[239] A dilatory and whispering 6-inch shell, thrown from a

black-powder battery north of Troy, was called “Creeping Caroline”

by our men. Similarly the French called one particular shell “Marie

pressée”--no doubt a “high velocity.”

[240] On December 30 Sir Charles Monro handed over his command to

General Sir Archibald Murray and left Mudros for Alexandria on his way

back to France.

[241] Shortly before it left, a deed of singular heroism added honour

to the 42nd Division. On December 22, in front of Krithia, Second

Lieut. Alfred Victor Smith (5th East Lancashire, 126th Brigade), only

son of the Chief Constable of Burnley, was throwing a grenade when it

slipped from his hand and fell to the bottom of the trench, close to

several officers and men. He shouted a warning, and jumped clear into

safety. But seeing that the others were unable to get into cover, and

knowing the grenade was due to explode, he returned without hesitation

and flung himself down on it. He was instantly killed by the explosion.

See the _London Gazette_ announcing that the Victoria Cross had

been conferred on him after death.

INDEX

(_I am indebted to_ MRS. E. M. WHITE _for undertaking the difficult

task of this Index_.--H. W. N.)

A Beach (true), 299, 301, 304 and _n._, 358.

A East Beach, 299, 304, 325 and _n._

A West Beach, 299, 304, 325 and _n._

Abdel Rahman Bair, 252, 265, 268, 269, 283.

Abdul Hamid, 2, 144 and _n._

Abrikja, 317, 323–4.

Achi Baba, situation of, 79;

enemy shelling from, 132, 171, 197, 403;

strength of position, 170 _n._, 220.

Achmet, 257.

Adana massacres, 99, 128 _n._

Adramyti Bay, 222, 362.

Adrianople, 55.

Aeroplanes--British, 167, 218–19, 397;

enemy, 308.

African troops, 136, 147, 149, 151, 175.

_Agamemnon_, 48–9, 51–3, 59, 91.

Aghyl Dere, 250, 251, 255, 262, 263, 355.

Agnew, Lt.-Col., 349.

Aire Kavak, 341.

_Albion_, 49, 52, 53, 60, 94, 99.

Alexandria, transports reloaded at, 69–70, 408.

Allanson, Maj. Cecil G. L., 272–6.

Altham, Maj.-Gen., 212, 381.

_Amethyst_, 49, 108, 109.

Ammunition, shortage of, 133, 148, 171, 181, 182, 185, 192, 193, 194

_n._, 200, 219, 229.

Anafarta Biyuk, 114, 251, 269, 286, 287, 335;

entrenched by Turks, 339.

Anafarta Hills, shelling from, 197.

Anafarta Ova, 291, 327.

Anafarta plateau, Turkish guns on, 340.

Anafarta Sagir--situation of, 287, 288;

Moore’s patrol on outskirts of (8 Aug.), 317;

Turkish headquarters at, 388 _n._

“Anafartas, the,” 263.

“Andarti,” 225 and _n._

Antwerp, R.N.D. at, 24, 148, 203.

Anzac Cove--conformation of, 110–12;

storming of (25 April), 111 ff.;

danger of, from shelling, 196.

Anzacs. _See_ Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.

Apex, the, situation of, 261, 360–1;

Anzac occupation of, 261, 270;

subterranean galleries made at, 382;

abandonment of (Dec.), 399.

_Aragon_--reputation of, 211–12 and _n._;

Kitchener’s entourage on, 379;

Monro’s H.Q. on, 381.

_Arcadian_, 80, 148, 166.

Ari Burnu, 112, 113, 250;

pier at, 371.

_Ark Royal_, 49, 218.

Armstrong, Lt.-Col. J. C., 81.

_Arno_, 315.

Art of war, 189.

Artillery:

Inferiority of, 181.

Loans from the French, 134, 184, 401.

Shortage of, 148, 171, 181, 184, 192, 193, 194 _n._, 219, 228, 229,

339, 361;

no anti-aircraft guns till winter, 219, 400.

_Askold_, 88, 120.

Asma Dere, 251–2, 263–4, 268–70.

Asmak Dere, 251.

Aspinall, Lt.-Col., 315, 316.

Aspinall, Capt. C. F., 81.

Asquith, Arthur, 149 _n._

Asquith, Rt. Hon. H. H., War Minister, 16–17;

agrees to Churchill’s plan, 34–5;

encourages Italy’s entry, 56;

the Coalition Ministry, 170;

estimate of, 19–21;

quoted on position of experts, 28;

cited, 376.

_Aster_, 295–6, 297 _n._

Athenian expedition to Sicily, 88–9 and _n._

Atrocities, 98.

Augagneur, M., cited, 35 _n._ 2.

Australian and New Zealand Army Corps:

Casualties of--25–6 April, 127;

2 May, 139;

4–5 June, 190;

Lone Pine, 240;

6–10 Aug., 283;

of 4th Austr. Brig. (8 Aug.), 270.

Characteristics of, 72–3.

Egypt, in, 70–1.

Engagements fought by--2 May, 138;

advance on Krithia (8 May), 155–6;

19 May, 161–2;

4 and 28 June, 188 ff.;

Lone Pine (6–9 Aug.), 231–41;

Sari Bair, 253 ff.

Evacuation of, 397–400 and _n._

Godley’s tribute to, 284.

Kitchener’s visit to, 380.

Landing of (25 April), 113 ff.;

objects, 79;

brigades confused, 124, 125.

Officers of, list of, 82–3.

Quarters of, 117–18, 125;

extension of, by 7–10 Aug. fighting, 285.

Turkish troops opposite (Dec.), 388 _n._

Units of, 83, 154 _n._ 2, 352 _n._ 1.

Withdrawn by battalions to Mudros, 355.

1st Australian Division:

1st (N.S. Wales) Infantry Brigade--landing of, 116;

Lone Pine, 233–40.

2nd (Victoria) Infantry Brigade--units of, 154 _n._ 2;

landing of, 116;

at Helles, 147, 153, 233;

Lone Pine (8–9 Aug.), 240;

the Nek (7 Aug.), 241.

3rd (Australia) Infantry Brigade:

9th (Queensland) Batt., 115, 190–1.

10th (S. Austr.) Batt., 115.

11th (W. Austr.) Batt., 231.

12th (S. Austr., W. Austr., and Tas.) Batt., 239.

New Zealand and Australian Division:

Officers’ reconnaissances, 249.

Reserve (May), 147.

Sari Bair, 253.

Machine-Gun Section, 280.

New Zealand Mounted Infantry Brigade--fighting at the Nek (30

June), 191;

Sari Bair, 254 ff.;

evacuation, 398.

Auckland Regiment--Sari Bair, 257, 265, 266, 277–8;

Hill 60 attack (27 Aug.), 353.

Canterbury Regt.--Sari Bair, 258;

Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 349;

(27 Aug.), 353.

Otago Regt.--Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 349;

(27 Aug.), 353.

Wellington Regt., 353.

1st Australian Lt. Horse Brigade--evacuation of, 398.

1st N.S. Wales Regt., 242–3.

2nd Queensland Regt., 242.

New Zealand Infantry Brigade--units of, 83, 154 _n._ 1;

landing of, 116;

at Helles, 147, 153.

Auckland Batt.--occupies Plugge’s Plateau, 116;

Sari Bair, 254, 260–1;

on Rhododendron Nek (7 Aug.), 264.

Canterbury Batt., 254, 260–1.

Otago Batt.--“Baby 700,” 139;

Sari Bair, 254, 260 and _n._ 2, 261.

Wellington Batt.--Sari Bair, 254, 260–1, 266, 277–8.

4th (Australian) Infantry Brigade--landing of, 116;

“Baby 700,” 139;

Sari Bair, 255, 262, 283;

Hill 60 attack (21 Aug.), 348–9, 351;

evacuation of, 398.

All Battalions of, in Sari Bair assault, 268–70.

Otago Mounted Rifles Regt., 254, 256, 258–9.

2nd Australian Lt. Horse Brigade, 84;

6th Regt., 398.

3rd Australian Lt. Horse Brigade, 84;

evacuation of, 398.

8th (Victorian) Regt., 244.

9th Regt., 354.

10th (W. Australian) Regt., 244, 354.

2nd Australian Division:

Arrival of, 355 and _n._;

of 18th Batt., 352.

Composition of, 338 _n._ 1.

Infection of, with dysentery, 357.

18th Batt., 352, 353.

Australian Engineers--5th Company, 399.

Bridging Train, 325 _n._

Maori Contingent, 254, 256, 258, 265, 268, 353, 398.

New Zealand Engineers, 254, 255, 259.

The Dardanelles campaign · 第 15 / 16 章