CHAPTER IIGALLIPOLI(May 1915)

Gallipoli! Who in Lancashire, in England, before the year 1915, knew where or what it was, or had even heard the name? Bitter was the dispelling of ignorance; hard indeed the road that led to knowledge! A name of death, of affliction, of suffering almost too heavy to be borne; but also a name of heroism and endurance and of high endeavour. A name of Failure, but no less of Glory.

More than 14,000 Lancashire Territorials—bronzed, clear-eyed,trainedmen now—put forth from Egypt in the first days of May 1915, upon the second stage of the Great Adventure, bound for the Ægean Sea, the very source and well-spring of adventure, whose shores and islands were the playgrounds of heroes. As the transports steamed northward into the Ægean, some, perhaps, had visions of a parade across the peninsula, an astonished enemy falling back before them in disorder, and a triumphant procession into Constantinople. The glamour of that romantic city laid hold of the imagination of others, who pictured a victorious entry after some weeks or months of hard fighting, and the loss of good comrades. The majority, however, had a better, if still rather vague, idea of the difficulties of the task that confronted them, for most had heard by now of the enemy’s preparedness and of the reception that had been given to the 29th Division, the Anzacs, and the French, and of the awful losses sustained before a precarious footing had been gained.

So, while the Division is at sea, let us review very briefly the position on the peninsula of Gallipoli. After a naval bombardment on February 15, which only served as a threat and warning to the enemy, a naval attempt on March 18 to force the Straits failed disastrously, though it certainly attained one of its objects—that of relieving the pressure upon the Russians. But as the large Turkish forces withdrawn from the Caucasus were employed upon the defence of Gallipoli and the Straits, the result was that the hitherto undefended peninsula was converted into an impregnable position against the now expected attack. Artillery was mounted to cover every approach, and barbed wire entanglements were concealed in the shallows and placed on shore—wire compared with which the British article was as thread.

On April 25 General Sir Ian Hamilton’s army landed, the 29th Division at various beaches of the southern extremity of the peninsula, around Cape Tekke, Cape Helles, and the village of Sedd-el-Bahr, and the Anzacs on the western shore a dozen miles to the north, just beyond the headland of Gaba Tepe. The loss incurred had been appalling. The marvel was that the feat had been accomplished. History records no grander achievement, no more inspiring example of heroism. Surely men who could achieve the impossible as these had done could go anywhere or do anything! They could indeed do what men can do, but there were no reserves to fill the huge gaps, and the important gains made so gallantly and at so terrible a cost had to be abandoned by the fragments of what had once been battalions and companies. The story of Gallipoli might have been very different had General Hamilton been granted the support of the East Lancashire Division a week earlier. On April 30 the 86th Brigade (the four Fusilier battalions) of the 29th Division could only muster 36 officers and 1830 men out of a normal strength of 104 officers and 4000 men, the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers being reduced to 11 officers and 399 men.

The finest troops of Turkey made desperate efforts, with a courage and enthusiasm that won the admiration of the British, to complete the destruction of the invading force or to drive it into the sea. With equal determination British, Anzacs, and French held on to their dearly-won foothold, and made desperate counter-attacks to improve their position. On May 1 the Indian Brigade under Brig.-General Cox arrived from Egypt.

On May 5-6 the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, with No. 2 Section Signal Company and the 2nd Transport and Supply Company, disembarked at “W” and “V” Beaches, across the blood-drenched hulk of the River Clyde, and were temporarily attached to the 29th Division. Vehicles and animals were slung into the lighters, and though it was their first experience the men did their job well. The A.S.C. mules had been supplied from the 49th Reserve Park a few hours before embarking at Alexandria, and were therefore unknown to their drivers, who deserve credit for bringing them safely ashore. As the cable-wagons could not be landed each man of the Signal Section took as much equipment as he could carry.

Had stimulus been needed to inspire the men from Bury, Rochdale and Salford, here was their inspiration. They had set foot ashore close to the spot made world-famous as “Lancashire Landing” a few days earlier by the 1st Battalion of their own Regiment, with whom they were now privileged to act. “So strong,” wrote Sir Ian Hamilton, in his first despatch on the Gallipoli landing, “were the defences of ‘W’ Beach that the Turks may well have considered them impregnable; and it is my firm conviction that no finer feat of arms has ever been achieved by the British soldier—or any other soldier—than the storming of these trenches from open boats, by the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.” Within a few hours of landing the Territorial Brigade was in action, and at the close of two days’severe fighting it had a casualty list of 673. The first battalion to disembark, the 6th Lancashire Fusiliers, took over trenches from the K.O.S.B. at dusk, on the extreme left of the British line, between Gully Ravine and the Ægean Sea. The remainder of the Brigade marched during the night, reaching a point above Gully Beach at daybreak on May 6.

ACHI BABA FROM HIGH GROUND ABOVE “LANCASHIRE LANDING.”

MORTO BAY AND ENTRANCE TO THE NARROWS.

The First Battle—May 6, 1915

A general advance of the whole line, stretching right across the peninsula, from a point about three miles north of Tekke Burnu on the left to a point about one mile north of De Tott’s Battery on the right, was ordered for 10 a.m. that morning. The 6th L.F. gained more than 400 yards before being held up by heavy fire from rifles and machine guns. This was the greatest advance made by any unit that day, and the ground won was held. The 7th were in support of the 6th. One company of the 8th reinforced the extreme left; another company supported the left of the 88th Brigade on the right of the Gully Ravine. This ravine, about fifty yards wide, with steep cliffs forty to sixty feet high, formed a dangerous gap in the line, and during the night its bed was occupied by another company of the 8th. Under cover of night the trenches, having been cleared of dead and dying, were deepened and improved.

The attempt to continue the advance next morning was not successful. The 5th L.F. deployed and passed through the 6th in the front line, the rest of the Brigade being in support, to press home the attack. The Brigade’s objective was a point about a mile to the north of the furthest point reached by British troops throughout the campaign. Some parties of the 5th gained a little ground, but they were enfiladed, the intensity of the fire drove them back, and the line remained unaltered. A renewal of the attack in the afternoon, when the Brigade was reinforced by two battalions of the 87th Brigade, also failed. At sundown the Brigade was relieved, and the Lancashire Fusiliers rested on the cliffs until the following evening, when they were moved to a less exposed bivouac further inland, among the trees near Morto Bay. The Territorials had been severely tested and had stood it well. They had been thrust at once into the fighting line because they were badly needed. When they landed the position of the depleted 29th Division was precarious. The men were exhausted, for there is a limit to human endurance, and that limit had almost been reached. It was vital, if they were not to be driven into the sea by force of numbers, that an advance should be made and less exposed positions secured; and the arrival of the Territorial Brigade had enabled the worn-out Regulars to attain this object. No. 2 Section Signal Company had done good work. For two days their tasks had been done in the open, under continuous fire, all lines having been laid on the surface by hand.

By some blunder or misunderstanding on the part of the Naval Authorities most of the transports conveying the remainder of the Division were sent northwards up the coast to Gaba Tepe, instead of to Cape Helles. The first to arrive, theDerflingerwith the 5thand 6th Manchesters on board, was chased by a destroyer and brought back with all speed to Helles, where these two battalions disembarked on the evening of May 6 at “W” and “V” beaches. The 7th and 8th Manchesters landed on the same beaches on the following day under shell fire, which caused several casualties. The Manchester Brigade assembled on the cliffs between the beaches before moving inland to the rendezvous known as Shrapnel Valley. The other transports, including theCrispinwith Headquarters on board, arrived off Gaba Tepe on May 8, and anchored there for the night. In the morning Major-General Douglas, failing to obtain a reply to his ship’s signals, visited the Senior Naval Transport Officer on board H.M.S.Queen, and the transports were soon steaming southwards, Headquarters disembarking at “W” beach in the afternoon of May 9.

The disembarkation of the Division was practically completed on the 11th, though two companies of the 10th Manchesters and one of the 5th East Lancashires, when about to follow their comrades ashore, were carried off by the naval authorities for some unexplained reason, and were not landed until the 14th. The medical and surgical equipment of the 3rd Field Ambulance was also lost in the same way, and was not recovered for a fortnight. The 5th Battery, R.F.A., and two guns of the 6th Battery had been landed, when orders were received that, as the area occupied by the British was so small, sufficient space would not be available for the batteries, so the Artillery must return to Egypt. It was, however, decided to allow the guns which had already been brought ashore to remain. Lieut.-Colonel Birtwistle, commanding the 1st Brigade, R.F.A., had gone ashore with the 5th Battery, and he was placed in charge of a sub-group of Australian and New Zealand batteries. The mortification of the other batteries was intense, but after four more months in Egypt they again sighted Cape Helles, and this time were allowed to land. For the same reason—congestion on the occupied territory—the 1st, 3rd and 4th Companies, A.S.C., with the exception of the Supply personnel, were ordered back to Egypt.

The vagaries of the naval transport authorities which had sent some of the transports on a tour along the coast were not regarded as an unmitigated evil by those of the wanderers upon whom responsibility weighed less heavily, for they were given the opportunity to survey the scene of operations from various angles, from Tekke Burnu to Fisherman’s Hut beyond the headland of Gaba Tepe, where lay the Anzacs, and from Cape Helles to Morto Bay and the entrance to the Straits. They witnessed the bombardment of the enemy’s positions from sea and land; and some, with good glasses, were able to follow the movements of the Lancashire Fusiliers during the heavy fighting of the 6th and 7th of May, and could actually see them move forward to attack, their bayonets flashing in the sun, and concentrate on certain points when the advance was held up. On the right the French Colonial troops were seen, carrying all before them with their usual dash, only, alas! to be driven back a few hours later. They passed close to the mightyQueen Elizabeth, that embodimentof concentrated sea-power which—as many anticipated—had proved so comparatively ineffective against an enemy on land, though the big naval shells which burst in and around Krithia Village threw up clouds of dust and smoke and debris seventy feet in height. There also were the French men-of-war and the “Packet of Woodbines,” as the five-funnel Russian cruiserAskoldwas termed.

GALLIPOLI PENINSULALc.-Corp. J. Mort, R.E. (T.)

GALLIPOLI PENINSULA

Lc.-Corp. J. Mort, R.E. (T.)

The Landing at Helles

That the landing on open beaches, exposed to chance firing from the Turkish front, and presenting a visible target to batteries at Kum Kale on the Asiatic shore, was accomplished quickly and almost without loss was due to the fine spirit shown by all ranks. The disembarkation was by no means a simple affair. It contrasted strangely with the embarkation at Alexandria, where the troop-trains ran alongside the steamers, and the docks were equipped with all loading facilities. At Cape Helles the transports anchored at varying distances from the shore, and the troops were transferred to steam-tugs and trawlers, each carrying about 500 men to the makeshift piers of trestles or old barges, or to the jetty formed by the strandedRiver Clydeon “V” Beach. Horses and mules were slung overboard and lowered into lighters. The ground swell increased the difficulties and dangers.

As the men scrambled into the tugs many began to realize that they were now confronting the biggest thing that had yet entered into their lives. They joked and chaffed one another, and smoked their pipes, as if crossing to the Isle of Man, while the thunder of the heavy guns echoed against the cliffs. They were not yet “heroes,” and few of them had yet been tested by fire; and if, to steady their nerves and conceal from their comrades—and from themselves—the anxieties and doubts that would not be denied, they made fun of the ordeal that lay before them, all honour to them!

Each boatload was welcomed by a Landing Officer, whose one idea was, naturally enough, to get men and baggage clear of his “pier” and beach in order to make room for the next batch and prevent the short stretch of foreshore from becoming hopelessly blocked. The strip of firm sand at the water’s edge soon changed to loose sand and shingle, which sloped gradually to the foot of the cliffs, about 150 to 200 yards from highwater mark. The cliffs rose abruptly to the height of fifty to sixty feet, except in the centre of the bays, where higher ground was reached by rough winding tracks. From the top of the cliffs a view of Achi Baba was obtained—a sight interesting enough, and even exciting, at first, but the interest soon palled and gave place to detestation. The top was no place to linger upon, for its occupants were plainly visible to the Turk in front, as well as to the Turk in Asia. Low scrub and grass covered it; beyond, the ground dipped slightly before it began to rise nearly 600 feet to the summit of Achi Baba, about six miles to the north-east. It was mainly uncultivated ground, though a certain amount of young grain afforded good grazing for the horses while it lasted, and there were one or two small vineyards more than a mile inland, the young grapes from these being made into delectable puddingslater by enterprising A.S.C. officers. The only trees near the Helles beaches were small groups of wind-swept firs and a few limes, but further inland, near the nullahs, and away on the right, in the French area around Morto Bay, more foliage could be seen. There were many wild flowers, including a lovely pink cistus, wild thyme and very fine wild roses; and here and there the vivid red of a patch of poppies relieved the general impression of green.

For nearly two miles inland this ground formed a narrow, congested bivouac for troops newly landed or in reserve, and a rest camp for those which had suffered heavily. Corps Headquarters, ordnance, supplies, hospital tents, transport vehicles, and long lines of picketed horses and mules, covered large expanses. At first men lay in twos and threes in small natural hollows, in coffin-shaped holes hastily dug to the depth of two or three feet, or in wide shallow trenches which provided some little cover for men lying down. Later, oilsheets were used to cover these trenches as a protection from the sun by day and the cold at night. The difference in temperature was keenly felt by men who had passed the preceding seven months in Egypt. Indeed, on the first night ashore officers and men, unable to sleep because of the cold, stamped backwards and forwards until tired, then huddled together until forced to take violent exercise again. The dawn was exquisite as the first rays of the sun touched the snow-tipped mountains to the east, but few were in the mood to appreciate it. What was then asked of the sun was warmth, not beauty.

Very little protection from shell fire was to be found on the peninsula owing to the nature of the ground, to the position of the allied armies between the guns of Achi Baba and the batteries of the Asiatic shore, and to the entire absence of material for revetting trenches and constructing shelters and dug-outs. Wood and other material could only be brought from Egypt or Mudros in small quantities—small as compared with the vast amount required—and even these seldom found their way beyond the beaches, and sandbags during the first months were as precious almost as drinking-water. Moreover, there was no time for work on defences, and no men were available. The cliffs themselves provided shelter from shell fire from the north, but none from “Asiatic Annie,” the heavy gun (or rather guns) which shelled “W” and “V” Beaches continuously from various points along Erenkoi Bay east of Kum Kale, inflicting many casualties and much damage.

Into this too-crowded, unprotected area the Turk consistently pitched his high-explosive shells, and the ear-splitting crash and “coal-box” effect greeted the Territorials on arrival and gave them their first impression of real warfare. It was amazing that the casualty list was not far heavier. Had the enemy at this period been in possession of more and better ammunition the position in Gallipoli would have been untenable. Owing to this shortage in these early days solitary wagons and pack-animals could be moved about freely by day behind the lines, within view and range (withopen sights) of the guns on the slopes of Achi Baba; for the Turk rarely wasted a shell on the chance of destroying one man or horse, and, by extending to a distance of 400 yards, even a battalion transport could often go forward and backward unmolested by day. The incessant rifle fire at night made the area immediately behind the front lines more dangerous then than by day.

The Nullahs

Farther away to the north the British front was intersected by three streams, or, except during and immediately after rain, three more or less dry beds of streams, running north-east to south-west. The largest of these was Gully Ravine (Saghir Dere) close to and parallel with the western coast, emptying into Gully Beach about two miles north of Lancashire Landing. The Krithia Nullah (Kirte Dere) began near Krithia Village, and intersected the centre of the British area for a distance of three miles, then, a mile north of “V” Beach, turned to the south-east and emptied into Morto Bay. The third, Achi Baba Nullah (Maltepe Dere) ran parallel to, and from 500 to 1000 yards to the east of the Krithia Nullah, and it also debouched into Morto Bay. No nullah emptied into “W” or “V” Beach, and none intersected the high ground adjacent to those beaches. As the one road in the occupied territory, the Krithia Road, was registered, and in full view of the Turks, these gullies formed the only concealed approaches from the bivouacs and rest camps to the front line. The congestion of these “main streets” made traffic slow and laborious. Normally the approach would be along the bed of a tortuous stream, showing here and there a trickle of water, and at one spot in the Krithia Nullah even a small bathing-pool; but the sight of driftwood and debris deposited six feet and more above the bed-level gave warning to the observant. Disastrous experience soon showed that a few hours’ heavy rain could convert these nullahs into raging and devastating torrents; and when the spate subsided channels of deep mud would be left, with here and there a quagmire into which mules and horses sank.

That one may have too much of a good thing while suffering from a lack of it may be a paradox, but there were times when it was true enough in Gallipoli. Water there was below the surface, to hinder the construction of deep trenches, in which men might stand or sit or walk without offering their heads and bodies as targets to the sniper; there was at times water in exuberant excess to wash away stores, equipment, and even trenches and dug-outs; but clean water was more precious than wine. There were one or two derelict farms which had wells, but the demand was so great that the supply soon gave out. Unfortunately no steps had been taken to protect wells from pollution when the area was first occupied, but afterwards a guard was placed over them, and the water chlorinated before issue, through fear of contamination. A small supply for the brewing of tea was obtained by digging a hole in the trench, below the parados, and placing therein an old biscuit tin with perforated bottom. In this way a little water could be collected—and every pint was treasure. As there were many of our own and the enemy dead lyingout in the open, and also latrines in the immediate neighbourhood, it is a great tribute to the value of chlorination and typhoid inoculation that men drank this water with impunity. The normal trickle through the Krithia Nullah provided water for washing but not for drinking, as the stream flowed through the Turkish lines into ours, and was very dirty. A few springs of good water were found in the banks of the nullah, and one of these never failed to supply about 100 gallons an hour. Later, new wells were dug, a gang of well-sinkers, chosen from men of the mining districts, doing useful work. Some of the best of these wells were sunk on the side of a precipitous cliff at Shrapnel Point, near Gurkha Bluff, within a stone’s throw of, but fifty feet above, the sea.

Before the Division landed there had been little attempt at sanitation; there were not nearly enough men for fighting purposes, and no one had time to worry about such things until too late. The flies had then arrived.

The southern point of the peninsula had been very sparsely inhabited. There were two villages, Sedd-el-Bahr, between “V” Beach and Morto Bay, and Krithia, below the slopes of Achi Baba. Elsewhere a few isolated buildings remained, and arches of an ancient aqueduct which had formerly brought water to Sedd-el-Bahr, still stood. But the inhabitants of the nullahs had not fled. Who that heard them will ever forget the frogs of the nullahs at night? A vivid memory of this will remain when things of more importance are forgotten. The average Lancashire man had read that frogs croak, and had accepted the statement tolerantly, as we acquiesce when told that, in spite of appearances, Sirius is really larger than the moon, or that the earth goes round the sun. Now they heard them, and considered “croak” too feeble and inexpressive a word. Some had perhaps read Aristophanes, and had assumed that the frogs of sunnier climes might voice their joys and sorrows less decorously than those which reside in suburban ponds near Manchester. At first the origin of the noise[3]gave rise to much conjecture, a popular notion being that the Gurkhas were responsible. Anything out of the common might be attributed to them. Had it not been printed in the newspapers that the Gurkhas observed a strange rite in respect of the shedding of blood whenever they drew their kukris, to show to the curious stranger or to put a still keener edge on the blade? And did they not throw these heavy, curved knives at the enemy? Accepting such statements as facts it was quite simple to believe that you yourself had seen them do these strange things. So the noise was made by the Gurkhas, and doubtless some unfortunate Turks were having a most unpleasant time.

The Fauna of Gallipoli

Other interesting and unusual fauna were the tortoises, lizards, tarantulas, and scorpions. The tortoises were decidedly popular,and the lizards entertaining, but no one loved the others. At a later date some ammunition was wasted on the flocks of migrating cranes and storks that flew over in wedge-shaped phalanx, until shooting at them was forbidden. The number of birds which lived and nested on the peninsula, undeterred by, and apparently indifferent to, the noise, carnage and destruction and the presence of armies where men had hitherto been infrequent visitors, was remarkable. Linnets, goldfinches, turtle-doves, magpies, jackdaws, and other familiar birds were common. During the summer many rollers were seen, and were called “parrots” from the brilliance of their plumage. Black-headed buntings, having yellow plumage, were mistaken for canaries. Birds of prey abounded, from the griffon vulture seen in May on the cliffs of Helles to the abundant kestrel. Levantine sheerwaters, known to the Turks as “the souls of the damned”—a name which gained in significance as the months passed—flew in flocks round the cape. The winter brought homely English birds, robins and dunnocks, starlings and chaffinches, to remind men of home.

Another noise which for a time puzzled the lads from Lancashire was a weird, penetrating cry heard in the morning and evening. There were various conjectures as to its origin, but finally the more enlightened decided that it was the muezin calling the Faithful to prayer.

Having given some idea of the conditions in Gallipoli and the nature of the country, we return to the narrative of events.

On May 11 the East Lancashire Division was ordered to take over the whole of the British front line, except that portion held by the Indian Brigade, which came under the command of General Douglas for a few days. The line was taken over in the course of the night and of the morning of the 12th. It was a pitch dark night with heavy rain, and few of those who took part will forget this first experience.

On the evening of the 12th the Manchester Brigade made a demonstration to draw attention from an important movement by the Indian Brigade on their left. The high cliff overlooking the ravine of “Y” Beach was strongly held by the enemy, and the machine guns of this formidable redoubt formed an obstacle that must be overcome before further progress could be made. The feint of the Manchesters served its purpose by distracting attention from the storming company of the 6th Gurkhas, and so enabling the hardy little mountaineers to scramble up the cliffs unopposed and rush the redoubt. They held the Turks at bay while their comrades of the other three companies swarmed up the rocks and completed the capture of the position, which received the name of Gurkha Bluff. It was not only a fine bit of work, but also a success of the greatest value. On the same evening the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade opened fire to support a forward movement by French troops on their right.

On May 15 a readjustment of positions was ordered, and on thenights of May 16-17 and 17-18 the reliefs were carried out. The line of trenches was now in four sections. That on the left, held by the 29th Division, including the 29th (Indian) Brigade, ran from the Ægean coast eastward for 1600 yards to the eastern edge of Fir Tree Wood, 300 yards north-west of Krithia Nullah. The next section, held by the East Lancashire Division, extended the line for 1500 yards from the right of the 29th Division, through the Krithia Nullah to the Achi Baba Nullah, which it included. The Royal Naval Division’s section continued the line for 700 yards to the Telegraph Line; and the right section, thence to the coast of the Straits, above the ruin known as “De Tott’s Battery,” about 2100 yards in length, was held by the French Corps Expeditionnaire.

Later this line was termed the Redoubt Line. Saps terminating in T-heads were run out towards the Turkish trenches, and parties told off at night to connect the T-heads and dig themselves in, until two new advanced lines had been made. By the end of May a series of redoubts had been constructed at intervals along the old front line, and these were garrisoned in readiness to meet any temporary success of the enemy. The occasion did not, however, arise. The Manchester Brigade occupied the first line of the second section, with the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade on its right, and the East Lancashire Brigade as reserve. It may be mentioned that at this period the total ammunition available for a battalion consisted of 200 rounds per man, with twelve boxes of 1000 rounds each in reserve in the firing line, and twelve boxes at Battalion Headquarters.

During the three weeks after the disembarkation of the Division had been completed there was little actual fighting, no attack being made by either side. The arrival of the Territorials had strengthened the position sufficiently to discourage Turkish hopes of dislodging the invading force, but no forward movement on a large scale could be contemplated until the ground recently won had been consolidated and the difficulties of transport and supplies reduced. As the line stretched from sea to sea no flanking movement was possible. It was therefore a case of playing for position for a time. Each infantry brigade in turn assisted the French, the R.N. Division, and the Indian Brigade to develop their plans and effect necessary changes, and each in turn relieved the brigade in the first line.

Shelling and Sniping

But though there was a lull in the fighting after the 8th of May the shelling of the trenches, rest camps, cliffs, and beaches never ceased for long. Even bathing parties[4]suffered from the shelling, and the Turkish rifles blazed away day and night without cessation, causing much loss to working-parties and men in bivouac far behind the first line, and even in the R.A.M.C. tents below the cliffs. Atdark one could hear from the cliffs of Gully Beach the continuous “plop” of bullets striking the water. There were also casualties from hidden machine guns; and the courage, enterprise, and skill of the Turkish snipers were the cause of many fatal wounds. Owing to the shallowness of the average trench it was difficult even for the most careful and experienced to keep under cover, and most injuries received at this time were head wounds. The Turkish snipers hid in the scrub—some carrying camouflage so far as to paint themselves green—or lay in holes apart from, and generally in advance of, their trench system; and their patience, persistence, and ingenuity evoked reluctant tributes from their foemen. Fir Tree Wood was a happy hunting-ground of the snipers, some of whom had remained in their hiding-places during our advance, in order to pick our men off at short range during the night. The Territorials received valuable tips from the Regulars on the best methods of dealing with snipers, and before long their numbers, and the losses they inflicted, were kept in check.

BATHING POOL IN KRITHIA NULLAH.

THE KRITHIA NULLAH.

EVENING “HATE.”

During this period the men not in the front lines were kept busy unloading supplies at the beaches and transporting them to the dumps, road-making, trench and well digging, and performing many other fatigues. The sappers, who had landed on the 9th and 10th of May, had their hands more than full. The 1st Field Company was in bivouac near Morto Bay on the right, and the 2nd Field Company on the left flank near Pink Farm, a solitary building which became a famous landmark and rendezvous during the campaign. They directed the construction of trenches, of lines of rifle-pits in front of the trenches, of dug-outs, and trench-bridges for armoured cars, improvements of the rough country tracks, work on wells and appliances for distribution of drinking water, and the manufacture of bombs. The digging, deepening, and repairing, and, when material was available, the strengthening of trenches was a never-ending task, which had to be performed under fire from artillery, machine guns, and snipers. The soil was mainly a stiff yellow loam, which stood well unrevetted until rain came, when it was transformed into peculiarly bad mud, and the water would not drain away. Gorse and heather, outcroppings of rock, and in one or two sectors, the tough fir-roots, which interlaced and formed a network at varying depths, added considerably to the difficulties.

The Field Ambulances on landing had equal difficulties to encounter, and the way in which they contrived to overcome them and to makeshift successfully afforded proof of their resource. Dressing stations had to be made in clefts in the cliffs, with tarpaulin sheets stretched from boulder to boulder for shelter. The shortage of appliances and equipment during the first weeks was a serious handicap. As soon as their equipment arrived they moved up to the rear of the bivouacs in the centre of the line. The battalion stretcher-bearers had quickly “made good.” They had had to stand the usual chaff while training, but within a week of landing they had become “heroes” in the eyes of their comrades. TheField Ambulances, lacking tackle, had not been able to provide bearers to evacuate from First-Aid Posts, and the battalion stretcher-bearers carried the wounded a distance of three miles to the beach.

Practically everything required for the army in Gallipoli had to be brought from the base at Mudros, the harbour of the Island of Lemnos, nearly forty miles away. Even water was conveyed overseas to supplement the inadequate local supply. Rations, ammunition, equipment, and material of all sorts were transferred from the ships to flat-bottomed lighters and landed, frequently in rough weather, and generally under fire from the Asiatic coast. The small A.S.C. unit therefore did not enjoy much leisure. No. 2 Transport and Supply Company had given evidence of its efficiency, for, though within ten days after landing it had lost forty-one animals killed, it was found that they possessed one more than the original number landed. Many loose mules were straying around, and the company upheld the rather unenviable reputation of which it boasted in pre-war days of never passing any unconsidered trifles by.

A Divisional Supply dump had been established on the top of the cliffs above “W” Beach, and there it remained until the evacuation. Though in a very exposed position and under daily shell fire it enjoyed a remarkable immunity. The rations were “man-handled” from the beaches to this dump, where they were issued to the Regimental Quartermasters, who brought with them their limbers when they had any, but usually A.S.C. limbers took rations to the R.Q.M.’s dump, about a mile inland, where they were divided in proportion to the strength of companies. Here battalion transport men loaded the pack-animals and led them across country for two or three miles to Battalion Headquarters, a short distance in the rear of the trenches, where the stores were unloaded, and the Transport Officer’s responsibility ended. At Battalion Headquarters a party from each company in the trenches was waiting to carry the rations to Company Headquarters, where the C.Q.M.S. issued to the platoon sergeants the share for their men, and the platoon sergeants in due course divided the articles among the section commanders.

Transport and Rations

On paper this simple daily routine is a mere matter of efficient organization, but in active practice it was something more. The Turk had a very good idea of the routes to be taken, and as he fired more vigorously during the night than in the daytime, the transport, whenever possible, moved up soon after noon while he indulged in his siesta. Rations had, however, often to be taken up at night, and casualties among the A.S.C. men and trench ration parties were frequent. None of the pack-animals had previously been under fire. The load must be packed with equal weight on either side or it will not reach its destination, for the mule, though a convinced individualist, has nothing to learn from the best-organized trade union in the matter of direct action or the lightning strike. The loads consisted of full boxes and half-filled boxes of bully-beef tins, tins of biscuits, jars of rum, sacks of loaves, whole cheeses, tins of jam, bags of tea and sugar, sides of bacon, and on mail-days bagsof letters and parcels. The correct balancing and securing of such articles, even on a placid, well-trained horse in a paddock at home, where no more disturbing explosions are to be feared than those caused by a distant motor-cycle, demands no mean skill and sense of proportion. But when shells are bursting close at hand, and mules and horses do their best to prevent the loading and dislodge the loads, it is a very different affair. When the loading has at last been accomplished and the animal is asked to move he will probably kick and buck until the load goes to the winds. Both mules and horses behaved uncommonly well under fire. On the rough tracks the mule was far steadier than the horse and could carry an equal weight. He was more particular about the perfect balance of his load, and would not attempt to carry an uneven pack.

Having finally completed the packing and persuaded the animals to start on the journey to Battalion Headquarters the Transport Officer’s troubles take another turn. He has to find his way in the dark across an open bullet-swept zone with animals that jib and shy as the shells burst, or lie down as the fit takes them, and at times succeed in scattering their packs. These must be collected and laboriously replaced, the driver meanwhile employing the most spirited and forcible terms of endearment in his vocabulary. At times the convoy will be held up by heavy shelling of the area that has to be crossed. Leaving the open they enter one of the nullahs up and down which hundreds of troops are moving, and progress is slow and exasperating. But in spite of all obstacles the transport men daily got the rations through to their comrades in the line. Nor should a word of gratitude to the Indian drivers of the A.T. carts and the Zion Mule Corps be omitted. These men gave efficient help in the transport of stores and material from the beaches to the dumps, and their courage under fire was admirable. The pride the Indians took in the smart and clean turn-out of their mules and carts was the more noticeable as they did not appear to be subject to the ordeal of inspection.

The journeys of the ration-parties from Battalion Headquarters to Company Headquarters were no less exciting than those of the battalion transport parties. Bearing heavy boxes or bags on heads or shoulders they crossed from trench to trench in the open, tripping over wire, stumbling into holes, dodging rifle fire, and, too often, falling victims to the sniper. But the rations arrived and the men were fed.

The rations were monotonous and ill-suited to the climate. They consisted of bacon (for breakfast), bully-beef and biscuit, with a little jam and cheese, a tin of Maconochie’s vegetable rations being at first, but not later, considered a treat, but Maconochie was particularly unsuited to a hot climate. Fruit—even good tinned fruit—and fresh vegetables would have done much to preserve the health of the men during the intense heat of the summer. In due course every man became a more or less expert cook, and to be on visiting terms was a privilege not unattended by risk, as it involved thesampling of many weird experiments and decoctions. Bread from the tents on Bakery Beach was first issued on May 21, and was received with acclamation.

Firewood was very scarce, as there were few trees or bushes, but it had to be obtained somehow for the trench fires over which the men brewed their tea and cooked their food. It was therefore not uncommon in the Helles area, in spite of orders issued to diminish waste, to see a caseful of tins of bully-beef tipped out on the roadside, that the invaluable wooden case might be split up for fuel. Butts of rifles which lay beside their dead owners met the same fate. Evidence of the awful waste of war abounded—weapons, ammunition, equipment, food, clothing, trodden under foot, and left to rust and decay. Where man could not expose himself by day these things remained unsalved for months, but elsewhere they were collected and returned to store. The best place where wood could be “won” was above Bakery Beach. A sentry was put over the wood-pile, but interesting conversation and a few cigarettes would occasionally distract his attention for the needful time.

On May 21 the Brigade Commanders received instructions from the Divisional Commander on various points connected with the latest methods and conditions of siege warfare, such as the use of bombs, sandbags, and loopholes, and the action of snipers. One officer, one N.C.O. and four men from each company were instructed in bombing, under the officer commanding the R.E., and each infantry brigade was allotted 400 bombs. It was found, however, that no more than 225 bombs were available for distribution among the three brigades. The bombs were made from empty jam tins sent down from the trenches to Lancashire Landing, where they were filled (chiefly by the divisional butchers and bakers at first) with old nails, bits of shell and of barbed wire, and other scraps of metal and an explosive charge. At first a time fuse was fitted through the top of the tin, and this had to be lighted by the aid of a match, but before long a detonating fuse was fitted. Matches were scarce and valuable, and in wind and rain many were wasted before the fuse could be lighted. These bombs were first issued in very small quantities about an hour before the attack began on June 4.

On the 25th of May occurred the memorable cloud-burst on Achi Baba, and in a few moments the nullahs were in spate, the trenches flooded, and thousands of men soaked to the skin. It was an Act of God which could not be foreseen or provided against, and the hardship inflicted upon the troops was very great. For a time the Krithia Nullah was impassable, and many dead Turks were carried down. The Lancashire Fusiliers Brigade Headquarters was under four feet of water for several hours, and the Signal Office was washed away. One battalion was enjoying beef-steaks in the dug-outs when a roar of water was heard, and a stream twenty feet wide quickly filled every dug-out. With British tenacity the men held on to chunks of bread and of steak as they scrambled for higher ground.

The Submarine Menace

Towards the end of the month the submarine menace developed into a very real danger to the men-of-war in these waters. The battleshipTriumphwas torpedoed on May 25 as she lay at anchor with nets out, off Anzac. She sank in ten minutes with a loss of ten officers and sixty-eight men. Two days later, theMajestic, Rear-Admiral Nicholson’s flagship, lying off Cape Helles, fell a victim to the same German submarine, and sank in six fathoms. Fortunately all but forty-eight men were saved. This disaster was witnessed by many of the Territorials on the beaches and cliffs. As other British and French battleships were attacked by submarines about the same time, it became clear that naval co-operation must be dispensed with, or considerably reduced, as ships at anchor offered too easy a target for torpedoes.

TheQueen Elizabethhad been ordered home on the first hint of danger, and now all the large ships were sent back to the safety of Mudros, and the regatta-like gathering at the mouth of the Dardanelles melted away. The Turk promptly seized the opportunity for propaganda purposes. An ingeniously worded pamphlet, printed in English, French, and Hindustani, and dropped from aeroplanes, notified the invaders that all their battleships and transports had been destroyed, that the Germans had gained control of the seas, and that no further supplies need be expected. “Don’t take our word for it, but see for yourselves. Last week you saw a large fleet of all kinds of vessels off Cape Helles. Look for it to-day. You have fought bravely; give yourselves up now to an enemy who respects your valour and will treat you well.” Tommy laughed. He had got his rations for the day, and the morrow would take care of itself.

On the 25th of May the designation of the Division was changed, and as the “42nd (East Lancashire) Division” it took precedence in numerical order of all other Territorial divisions. The Lancashire Fusilier Brigade became the 125th Infantry Brigade; the East Lancashire Brigade the 126th; and the Manchester Brigade the 127th. On May 27 the 126th Brigade was split up among various battalions of the 29th Division in order to bring those depleted battalions up to strength pending the arrival of drafts from England.

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