THE ZION MULE CORPS LANDS IN GALLIPOLI
The beach, cliffs and Castle were now in our hands, and disembarkation
for the remainder of the army was possible. While the great battle for
the landing was going on, we had been fretting and fuming at being left
so long idle spectators. Thinking that it was high time we should
disembark, and finding that no orders came along for us, I felt that in
order to get a move on I must make a personal effort. I therefore hailed
a trawler which happened to be passing, and got it to take me over to
the _Cornwallis_, on which I knew General Hunter-Weston, the Commander
of the 29th Division, had his temporary headquarters.
The General was glad to see me, and said I had turned up just in the
very nick of time, for my Zion men were urgently required ashore to take
ammunition, food and water to the men in the firing line. He appealed to
Admiral Wemyss, who was close by, to detail trawlers and lighters to get
my Corps ashore as quickly as possible. The Admiral very kindly told
off a naval officer to come with me, and he in his turn found a trawler
and some horse boats which were soon alongside the _Dundrennon_.
From two to six o'clock P. M. we were busily employed loading up and
sending mules and equipment ashore. I noticed that the officer in charge
of our trawler was a bit of a bungler at his job; time after time he
would fail in his judgment; when getting the barges alongside he had
repeatedly to sail round and round the _Dundrennon_ with his tow before
he got near enough for a rope to be cast; he was not a regular naval
man--just a "dug-out." How I longed then for my friend Murley!
I must say here that in my humble opinion the Navy failed us badly in
the matter of tugs, lighters and horse boats; there were not nearly
enough of these, and we could have done with three times the number. My
Corps, which was most urgently wanted by the General, took three days to
disembark, in spite of our most strenuous efforts to get ashore as
quickly as possible. The delay was entirely due to the lack of tugs, for
it was only now and then that a trawler could be spared to haul us
inshore. We were sadly held up and kept waiting for hours after our
boats had been loaded up, ready to be towed ashore.
Who was responsible for this shortage I do not know. It is, of course,
quite possible that the Navy provided all the trawlers requisitioned for
by the Army.
I had taken the precaution while on the ship to fill all my tins with
fresh drinking water, and these had to be unloaded by hand from the
lighters. To do this I arranged my men in a long line, stretching the
whole length of the temporary pier from the lighters to the beach, and
in this manner the cans of water were rapidly passed ashore from hand to
hand.
While we were engaged on this work the guns from Asia were making very
good shooting, shells striking the water within a few yards of us, just
going over our heads, a little to the right or a little to the left, but
always just missing. I watched my men very carefully to see how they
would stand their baptism of fire, and I am happy to be able to say
that, with one solitary exception, all appeared quite unconcerned and
took not the slightest heed of the dangerous position they were in. The
one exception was a youth from the _Yemen_, who trembled and chattered
with nervousness; but when I went up to him, shook him somewhat
ungently, and asked him what was the matter, he bent to his work and the
cans passed merrily along. In fact, everybody there, especially the
naval men who helped us to catch our mules as they jumped from the horse
boats into the sea, treated the cannonade from Asia as a joke, and every
time a shell missed a hearty laugh went up at the bad shooting of the
Turkish gunners. It was only a mere fluke, however, that the shells did
not hit the target aimed at, because, as a matter of fact, the shooting
was particularly good and only missed doing a considerable amount of
damage by a few yards each time. We were exceedingly fortunate in not
losing a single man during the whole period of disembarkation.
Practically the first officer I met as I stepped ashore was Colonel
Moorehouse, whom I had not seen for years, and he was most helpful in
the present emergency. I found that he was in charge of the landing
operations on the beach, and I believe he had given up a Governorship,
or some such billet, in West Africa to do his bit in the Dardanelles.
While we were disembarking, General d'Amade, who was commanding the
French Corps Expéditionnaire, stepped ashore and soon afterwards the
French troops began to pour on to the beach.
During the great battle which took place on the 25th and 26th for the
possession of V Beach, the French battleships and gunboats, together
with the Russian cruiser _Askold_, had been battering down the fortress
of Kum Kale on the Asiatic side of the Dardanelles, some two and a half
miles in a direct line from Sedd-el-Bahr.
In the face of much opposition the French troops forced a landing, and
after some heavy fighting defeated the Turks and captured many hundreds
of prisoners. There is no doubt that this diversion averted much of the
shell fire which would otherwise have been concentrated on those of us
landing at V Beach. Having driven the Turks out and effectively
destroyed Kum Kale, the French troops were re-embarked hurriedly,
brought across the Dardanelles, landed at V Beach in feverish haste, and
flung into the thick of the fight which was still raging just north of
the village of Sedd-el-Bahr.
I watched them disembark, and it was magnificent to see the verve and
dash which the French gunners displayed in getting their beloved .75s
into action.
Our naval men helped to bring the guns ashore, but the moment the
Frenchmen got them there they had them away and in action on the ridge
to the north of the amphitheatre in an incredibly short space of time.
As soon as we had got a couple of hundred mules ashore, I was ordered to
march them off to W Beach, which was on the western side of Cape Helles.
Having had some experience of the ways of soldiers on active service, I
knew that we should have to keep a very sharp eye on our gear as it came
ashore, otherwise it would be appropriated by the first comer. I
therefore left Lieutenant Claude Rolo on the beach to look after the
mules, horses and stores as they were disembarked, and incidentally to
dodge the shells which more than once covered him with sand but did no
further damage. I had left Lieutenant Gye on board the _Dundrennon_ to
see to the work of loading up the barges.
On the way to W Beach we were fired on by Turkish riflemen who had not
as yet been driven very far away from the shore, but fortunately we
sustained no damage.
The Lancashire Fusiliers, as I have already described, had a terribly
difficult task in forcing their way on to W Beach, and the moment I saw
it I could well realise what an arduous undertaking it must have been.
It looked, like V Beach, an impossibility, but the Lancashire lads could
not be denied, and all honour to them for having stormed such a fearsome
stronghold. By the time I got there there was already a huge stock of
ammunition and supplies piled up on the shore, and these we at once
began to load up on the mules to take out to the men in the firing line,
who were constantly driving the Turks before them further and further
from the beach.
I shall never forget my first night in Gallipoli. We loaded up
a couple of hundred mules, each mule carrying about two thousand
cartridges, and with Major O'Hara (now Lieut.-Colonel O'Hara), who
was the D. A. Q. M. G., as guide, we marched off into the darkness
to distribute ammunition along the front.
Major O'Hara came with me, partly because he knew the way, and partly
because he wanted to make sure what were the most urgent needs of the
men in the trenches. We trudged together all through that trying night,
so it is not much to be wondered at that we almost quarrelled once or
twice--but I will say here that of all the men I met in Gallipoli there
was not one who was so capable at his job, or worked so hard to see
that everything for which he was responsible ran smoothly. Oh, if only
our Army could be staffed with O'Haras, what a wonderfully efficient
machine our Army would be!
Soon after we left W Beach in the dark it began to pour, and it poured
and poured solidly for about five hours.
On we squelched through the mud over unknown tracks with the water
streaming down our bodies and running in rivulets out of our boots. As
soon as the rain ceased a biting cold wind set in, which froze us to the
marrow. However, the vigorous walking, helping up a fallen mule,
readjusting the loads, getting out of holes into which we had tumbled,
etc., kept our circulation going, and when we arrived at a place known
as Pink Farm, the furthest point to which we had yet advanced, there was
a sudden alarm that the Turks were approaching. Nobody knew then where
our front line was, or whether it linked up across the Peninsula. There
were many gaps in it through which the Turks, if they had had initiative
enough, might have forced their way and inflicted a considerable amount
of damage upon us before we could have organised adequate resistance.
On the first alarm of the approaching Turks I sent a man out to
reconnoitre, formed my little escort in open order, prone on the grass,
and asked Major Moore, D. S. O. of the General Staff, now
Brigadier-General Moore, to bring some men from the trenches, if he
could find them, as quickly as possible, for I had no desire to lose my
convoy at such an early stage of the proceedings.
Gongs could plainly be heard sounding, apparently close by, as though it
was some prearranged signal of the enemy, but whatever the reason we saw
nothing of the Turks, and no attack was made, so we unloaded our
ammunition and were then sent back for more by Colonel B. to Lancashire
Landing. Now Colonel B. of the Headquarters Staff told me personally on
no account to bring back supplies, but only ammunition, as no supplies
were needed at this place for the present. Unluckily O'Hara was not on
the spot when Colonel B. gave me these explicit and reiterated
instructions, so when we got back to the beach he wished to load up
supplies, but this I refused to do owing to the specific orders I had
received. O'Hara was furious but I was obdurate, so, of course, we
loaded up with ammunition.
Back again we trudged steadily through rain and slush towards the Pink
Farm. When we had got about half-way, we were met by a Staff Officer who
told us,--to O'Hara's great satisfaction,--that it was not ammunition
which was now wanted at the Pink Farm but supplies. I am not at all sure
that I did not overhear O'Hara call me "an obstinate damn fool," but it
is as well to be hard of hearing as it is to possess a blind eye on
occasions.
The upshot was that we had to return to the beach, unload the
ammunition, load up boxes of tinned beef, cheese, biscuits and jam, and
then back again along the "sludgy squdgy" road we trudged once more
towards that never-to-be-forgotten Pink Farm. Again we got about
half-way there, when yet another Staff Officer met us, who told us that
the supplies were not wanted by the brigade holding the line at the Pink
Farm, but by the brigade holding the line on the extreme right, where
they were urgently required, and he ordered us to take them there
without delay. It was now my turn to chuckle, and I observed to O'Hara
that there "really must be a damn fool somewhere about after all."
Without a murmur we turned back once more, for, not knowing the country,
nor where we might bump into the enemy, we could not take a short cut
across, so were forced to return to W Beach. From thence we went along
the track by the Helles cliff which took us to the top of V Beach; our
route then led us through Sedd-el-Bahr village, where we were warned by
a French soldier that we would be sniped by Turks as there were many
still lurking there.
When we got safely clear of this jumpy place, we found ourselves wending
our way through some Turkish cemeteries, the tall, white, thin
headstones, with their carved headlike top knobs, looking exactly like
ghosts in the gloomy light. We passed through cypress groves, along
sandy lanes, and rugged paths, fell into and scrambled out of dug-outs,
ditches and dongas, where mules and loads tumbled about indiscriminately
to the accompaniment of much profanity.
At one spot on this adventurous journey we came upon a Battalion of
Zouaves crouching down for rest and shelter in the lee of a hedge. The
sergeant in charge of my escort took them for Turks, and only that I was
happily on the spot when he made this startling discovery, he would
undoubtedly have opened fire on the Frenchmen. I must say that they
looked exactly like Turks, owing to their semi-barbaric uniform.
When we got the convoy to where we thought the front line ought to be,
we failed to find it, and as we were very hazy as to whether we would
run into our own men or the Turks, we left the convoy under the cover of
some trees, and O'Hara and I went off to reconnoitre. I believe we must
have passed through a gap in our own line. At all events we wandered for
some time, making many pauses to listen for any sound that might guide
us, but the weird thing about it was, that the whole place was now still
as death, though we must have been quite close to both armies. No doubt
they were dead beat after the recent terrific fighting they had come
through.
At last we luckily struck our own men, lining a shallow trench which had
apparently been very hastily thrown up, for it scarcely afforded enough
cover to shelter a decent-sized terrier. The men were so exhausted with
the continued strain and stress of the battle, which had been continuous
since the morning of the 25th, that they slept as if they were dead. The
sentries, of course, were on the alert, looking out grim and watchful at
the Turkish line, which we could just make out in the struggling
moonlight, apparently not more than two hundred yards away.
Telling the sentinel in a low voice, so as not to draw the Turkish fire,
that we had brought up a convoy of supplies, and that we were about to
unload them among some trees a couple of hundred yards further back, we
ordered him to pass this information on to the Brigade Headquarters, so
that arrangements might be made for the distribution of the food before
daybreak.
We then turned back, and taking the mules out of the shelter of the
trees where we had left them, we brought the supplies as close as
possible to the firing line, where we stacked them under cover.
Here again O'Hara's thoroughness and readiness to help in all things
came out, for he was one of the busiest men in the convoy, helping to
unload, putting the boxes in order, and removing our pack-ropes from the
cases, for, of course, these always had to be untied and taken back with
the mules.
We saw some pathetic sights on our way back to W Beach; we were obliged
to stop every now and again so as not to bump into the wounded men who
were being carried down on stretchers to the ships all night long by the
devoted R. A. M. C. orderlies.
When we topped the crest overlooking W Beach, a gleam of light was
coming up out of Asia, telling us of the approach of dawn, and we felt,
as we wearily strode down the slope to the beach, that we had done a
hard and useful night's work.
Now, when I had disembarked from the _Dundrennon_ soon after midday, I
had no idea that I would be hustled off to the trenches at an instant's
notice. I had expected to go back to the ship again for at least one
more load of mules, and I had therefore nothing with me except what I
stood up in--no food or equipment of any kind, and beyond a dry biscuit
and some cheese, I had had nothing to eat since lunch-time, so that it
can be well imagined I was fairly ravenous when I had finished that
night's trek. There was no food to be had just yet, however, and in any
case I had to see to the watering and feeding of my mules, for they,
like myself, had been without food or drink since the previous midday.
This job was finished by about 7 A. M. and soon after that I joined
O'Hara at an excellent breakfast, after which I felt ready for another
strenuous day.