As soon as the wounded men from Neuve Chapelle arrived in Great Britain, budgets of personal experiences began to appear in the newspapers. All the men dwelt upon the terrible effects of our artillery and the splendid spirit shown by our troops, not only while under fire, but when stricken down. Private Selwood of the Rifle Brigade said: "Men who fought at Mons have told me that Mons was only a tea-fight compared with Neuve Chapelle. In the half-hour's bombardment that began the day some say 400 guns were used; others, 525. The noise was terrific. Our boys went on cheerful enough, singing 'Tipperary' and anything. When we got to the dug-outs we found dozens of Germans, all dead. It was a surprise attack. They did not know it was coming off. At the third line of trenches I was hit in the leg by a bullet. I crawled back about five hundred yards, because there was too much work for the stretcher-bearers. They worked heroically, taking the most serious cases first."
A private of the 4th Black Watch thus describes a Highland charge: "We witnessed a magnificent charge of the first battalion of a famous Scottish regiment. Artillery fire ceased suddenly, and before the enemy could be reorganized the 'kilties' were over our trenches and dashing at them with fixed bayonets. It might have been a parade advance, so perfectly did each section of the line move forward. Th The first lot sprang up and over the German trenches, followed almost immediately by the rest, and in a very few minutes the trench was ours. Just before dusk I laughed for the first time that day. And no wonder! for at one point on that gory battlefield stood a notice-board inscribed with one word, 'Danger!'"
"Eye-Witness" tells us how our men behaved while they were watching the artillery bombarding the enemy's trenches and waiting for the word to advance. "They could see our shells bursting in the thick veil of smoke and dust that hung over the German trenches, and as the minutes wore on our artillery fire grew hotter and hotter, and the time grew nearer for them to rush forward. Their excitement rose to fever pitch. In some places they were seen to jump up on the parapets, brandishing their rifles towards the Germans, and shouting remarks which were drowned in the roar of the guns. When the rush was actually made our losses were trifling. It was only in the subsequent advance that heavy casualties occurred."
It is noteworthy that the enemy's wounded had to thank our men for many acts of kindness, even in the excitement of the assault. One of our soldiers, finding a wounded Prussian officer who had had his arm blown off by a shell, carried him to a place of safety under heavy fire. In one cellar a portly German was found dancing about in an agony of fear, screaming in a high-pitched voice in English, "Mercy! mercy! I am married!" "Your missus won't thank us for sending you home," replied one of our men, who took him prisoner, and his life was spared. A Rifle Brigade lieutenant, falling over a sandbag into a German trench, came upon two officers, hardly more than boys, holding their hands above their heads. Their faces were ashen gray, and they were trembling. One said gravely in good English, "Don't shoot! I am from London also." They too were spared.
During the counter-attacks of the Germans from the Biez wood their losses were very heavy. Line after line went down before our rifles. One of our Sepoys said that shooting the enemy was like cutting grain. Some of the German officers displayed the most reckless courage in leading the attacks. On more than one occasion they invited certain death by riding forward on horseback to within a few hundred yards of our line. None of those who so exposed themselves escaped. One German officer in charge of a machine gun kept his gun in action throughout the terrible bombardment, and then, when our men charged down upon him, awaited death, calmly standing on the parapet of the trench and emptying his revolver at them.
The Indians were greatly pleased at the result of the action, and constantly asked their officers when they were going to have another fight. Many stories are told of their prowess. One Gurkha made his way into a house, and single-handed captured five Germans, whom he marched off at the point of his kukri. It was curious to see the Indians returning with articles of German equipment. When they held them up for inspection they called out, "Souvenir! souvenir[29]!"
Canadian infantry were not specially engaged in the fighting at Neuve Chapelle, but the Canadian artillery played an active part in the bombardment which preceded the British advance, and the infantry were ready during the battle to go forward at a moment's notice. A Winnipeg "boy" wrote home as follows: "At 5.30 on the morning of Wednesday (the first day of the Neuve Chapelle attack) our officer told us to hurry over our breakfast, as a heavy fire was to be opened by our side, and the enemy, in replying, would probably drop a few rounds in our vicinity. We had just started to line up in the road outside when 'whop!' came a shell, which burst a few yards ahead. 'Double for the trenches!' was the order, and away we went. The trenches were only about one hundred and fifty yards away, yet the Germans had our position to a foot, and sixteen rounds of shrapnel burst literally in our midst. Had they burst overhead, as they should have done, it's a very fair bet that nearly every man of us would have 'gone west;' but only one man was hit, a fellow a short distance back of me. . . . We had to stay in the trenches until evening that day, and all next day."
A wounded German officer said that the suddenness of our bombardment was "like the burst of a great storm, instantly filling all the space with countless crashes of thunder, flame, smoke, and lead. Six of your great black howitzer shells," said he, "fell within fifty yards of a trench on my right, and so completely was our trench blown asunder that when the earth fell back it buried hundreds with it. Whenthe storm abated I crawled out, only to be bayoneted in the shoulder by, as I learned, a Territorial, and while I was lying there thousands of British pursuing our retreating battalion passed by me. But I lifted my sound arm, and they spared me—why, I do not know. It seemed to take hours for the British soldiers to pass me, and then I saw groups of my own regiment, unguarded and without guns, many slightly wounded, walking back to the British base. Such faces I did not think could be worn by human beings; they were orange with lyddite smoke. The men were palsied with what they had been through, and were too dazed to answer my call."
The part played by the 2nd Battalion Lincolnshire Regiment and the Irish Rifles in the advance towards the line of the little river is thus described:—
"Two companies of the Lincolns rushed the enemy's trenches under a pretty hot fire. Grenades were thrown at the enemy, and they ran out of their trench to the rear. There, however, Captain Peake's company threw grenades to cut off their line of retreat, and they ran back to their trench and surrendered. Captain Peake, who had advanced down the trench holding his blue flag up in the air, offered a conspicuous target to the enemy, and was shot. Meanwhile two other companies had followed through the gap caused by the charge; the enemy seemed in full retreat, and our men were very elated.
"Many who were hit continued to advance. Lance-Corporal Perry was hit rather badly in the foot three times, and, though told to take cover and lie down, persisted in going on and rallying his men. The reinforced line continued to advance until they reached a broad strip of water running right across their front, from four feet to five feet deep, and quite impassable. After a while a plank was found sufficiently long to bridge the water, and the men crossed to form a firing line on the other side. The heavy guns were shelling the Germans about one hundred and fifty yards in front, and on the Lincolns opening fire they retired.
"A few minutes after the Lincolns had recrossed the water to a slight rise behind it the Irish Rifles went through, and were given a lusty cheer. Lieutenant Graham was rallying his men with a French newsboy's horn, giving a 'View hullo' like a Master of Hounds collecting his pack. One company of the Lincolns crossed the water for the third time and assisted the Irish Rifles in making a trench. Afterwards they returned to entrench themselves behind the water."
A young officer who fought in the battle wrote home as follows: "My word, mother, yesterday we commenced a most almighty attack on the unsuspecting enemy. It had all been planned and organized for some time, and I should think it has been the finest show on record. Whether we had the advantage in the number of men I cannot say, but we certainly had in guns. You never heard such a din in all your life. All the farmhouses vibrated all day long, and during the first half-hour there were some 17,000 shells screaming towards the Bosches. Our lads who were wounded came down the road in batches of twos and threes to the dressing stations. They were very cheerful. They simply laughed and cracked jokes amongst themselves. They are a wonderful lot of Tommies. They were all so jolly brave, and keen, and determined."
A private of the Berkshire Regiment thus related his experiences: "We lost fairly heavily in the big fight at Neuve Chapelle, but the loss we inflicted on the Germans must have been frightful. They were lying all over the place. There was great rejoicing when we found that our regiment had been selected for the post of honour with the Lincolns forming the first line of the frontal attack. . . . Our boys were out like one man, and charged across to their first trench. We took that in less than five minutes, and, leaving a few men to secure the prisoners, swept on to the next. Men were falling on every side, as their machine guns and artillery were playing on us from beyond the village, and some of the sights were terrible. It seemed as though the air was full of shrapnel and bullets; but our boys were magnificent. Not one man wavered, even for a second, and nothing could have stopped that charge. The second trench was soon cleared out, and our bomb throwers—we call them 'Tickler's Artillery'[30]—did terrible execution. On we went for the third line. This was a bit more difficult, as there were a thick hedge and some barbed wire. But the boys would not be stopped, and in a very short time the third line was ours. The Rifles now came on to take the village, and they gave us a cheer and a shout of 'Well done, Berks!' as they passed through. We gave them an answering call as they charged and captured the village."
I will conclude this chapter with a brief account of the ten heroes who were awarded Victoria Crosses for splendid deeds of valour at Neuve Chapelle.
Private William Buckingham, 2nd Battalion, the Leicestershire Regiment.
You will remember that at Neuve Chapelle the 2nd Leicesters were attached to the Garhwal Brigade, and that when a Garhwali battalion was cut off a bombing party of the Leicesters brought them timely and effective assistance. No regiment played a finer part in the battle than the Leicesters. The Victoria Cross was awarded to Private Buckingham for his bravery and devotion to duty in rescuing wounded men and in rendering first aid to the fallen while exposed to heavy fire on several occasions, notably on the 10th and 12th of March.
Rifleman Gobar Sing Negi, 2nd Battalion, 39th Garhwal Rifles.
Gobar Sing Negi was the third Indian to win the Victoria Cross. During our attack on the German positions he was one of a bayonet party which entered a main trench. Pushing on in advance of his fellows, the gallant Indian bombed the enemy from traverse to traverse, and at last forced them to surrender. Unhappily, he did not live to wear the coveted honour, but fell in a later stage of the engagement.
Corporal William Anderson, 2nd Battalion, Alexandra Princess of Wales's Own (Yorkshire) Regiment.
On 12th March, at Neuve Chapelle, Corporal Anderson led three men armed with bombs against a large party of the enemy, then in possession of one of our trenches. After he had thrown his own bombs he found that his three comrades had been shot down, and that he was alone amongst the Germans. Nothing dismayed, he took the bombs of the three wounded men, hurled them against the foe, then opened rapid fire upon them, and by his prompt and determined action kept back the Germans until his comrades arrived and drove them from the trench.
Private E. Barber, 1st Battalion, Grenadier Guards.
During the fighting round Pietre Mill on 12th March Private Barber, who was one of a grenade company, ran ahead of his fellows and threw bombs on the enemy with such effect that a large number of them at once surrendered. When his comrades reached him, they found him quite alone and unsupported, with Germans holding up their hands all around him.
Company Sergeant-Major Harry DanielsandActing Corporal Cecil Reginald Noble, both of the 2nd Battalion, Rifle Brigade (Prince Consort's Own).
On 12th March the 2nd Battalion of the Rifle Brigade was held up by entanglements near Pietre Mill, and was subjected to a heavy machine-gun fire. Sergeant-Major Daniels volunteered to go forward and cut the wire. "Come along," he called to his chum, Corporal Noble, and without a moment's hesitation the two men rushed across the forty yards that separated them from the obstacle. Lying on their backs, they cut the lower wire, and thus opened a gap for their comrades to proceed. A bullet struck Daniels in the thigh, and a few minutes later he heard a gasp, and called out, "What's up?" Noble replied, "I am hit in the chest, old man," and became unconscious. Shortly afterwards he died. Daniels dragged himself to a shell hole, where he remained until dusk, and then painfully made his way back to his own lines. When interviewed in a London hospital, he had little to say about his own exploit, but was full of admiration for the gallantry of his dead friend. "Noble and I," he said, "had done everything together since we went out in November. I trusted him, and he trusted me. It was hot work, but the worst moment was when I heard my poor chum call out that he was hit in the chest. I am more glad about Noble's V.C. than I am about my own."
The exploit of these two brave men recalls that of the famous Swiss patriot Arnold von Winkelried at the Battle of Sempach, 1386. An unbroken line of Austrian lances barred the way of the Swiss; whereupon Winkelried determined to sacrifice himself in order that his comrades might break through.
"'Make way for Liberty!' he cried;Then ran with arms extended wide,As if his dearest friend to clasp.Ten spears he swept within his grasp.'Make way for Liberty!' he cried.Their keen points crossed from side to side.He bowed amongst them like a tree,And thus made way for Liberty."
"'Make way for Liberty!' he cried;Then ran with arms extended wide,As if his dearest friend to clasp.Ten spears he swept within his grasp.'Make way for Liberty!' he cried.Their keen points crossed from side to side.He bowed amongst them like a tree,And thus made way for Liberty."
Captain Charles Calveley Foss, D.S.O., 2nd Battalion, Bedford Regiment.
At Neuve Chapelle Captain Foss turned failure into victory. The enemy had captured part of our trenches, and our counter-attack, which was made with one officer and twenty men, failed, all but two of the party being killed or wounded. Seeing this, Captain Foss with eight men dashed forward through a fierce fire, and began pelting the enemy with bombs. So successful was his attack that he recaptured the position, and with it no less than fifty-two Germans. No words of mine are needed to extol the splendid bravery of Captain Foss and his gallant little company. Nine Britons retook a trench from more than fifty Germans!
Lance-Corporal W. D. Fuller, 1st Battalion, Grenadier Guards.
Observing a party of the enemy trying to escape along a communication trench, Corporal Fuller ran towards them, flinging bombs. The foremost man was killed, and the remainder, finding no means of escape, held up their hands and begged for mercy. All alone, Corporal Fuller received the surrender of fifty Germans! Prior to the war he was a miner of Mansfield. During a spell of leave in July 1915 he did excellent work as a recruiter. While he was telling the men of Fishguard, in Pembrokeshire, that if they were not fit to die they were not fit to live, some one in the crowd challenged him to enter the cage of two African lions then on exhibition in the town. At once Fuller threw his cap into the den, and then followed it. You can imagine the excitement of the townsfolk as he calmly stood by the lions and stroked their manes. As a result of this incident many men enlisted.
Lieutenant Cyril Gordon Martin, D.S.O., 56th Field Company, Royal Engineers.
On 12th March, when in command of a bomb-throwing party of six men, Lieutenant Martin, a young officer of twenty-four years of age, was wounded, but nevertheless led his comrades into an enemy's trench and held off all attempts torecover it for nearly two and a half hours. He had already distinguished himself, and had won the D.S.O. during the retreat from Mons by gallantly capturing and holding a German trench with a platoon of engineers. He was twice wounded on that occasion, and was invalided home. He had only been back at the front a few days when he won the V.C. for the exploit described above.
Private Jacob Rivers, 1st Battalion, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment (Sherwood Foresters).
Private Rivers was another of the bombers who won the highest award of valour during the first day of the great battle at Neuve Chapelle. Noticing that a large number of Germans were outflanking an advanced company of his regiment, he dashed forward, without waiting for orders, and flung bombs amongst the enemy with such effect that they were forced to retire. His prompt bravery undoubtedly saved the advanced company from disaster. Later in the day he performed a similar feat, but while engaged in this heroic work was shot through the heart. He was a native of Derby, and was thirty-four years of age. When the war broke out he had completed twelve years of service with the Royal Scots; but he immediately enlisted in the Sherwood Foresters, and, being an experienced soldier, was sent to France with one of the earliest drafts. He had a brother in the Grenadier Guards, and three brothers-in-law were serving in his own regiment. The cross of bronze which he did not live to wear was sent as a sad but proud memorial to his widowed mother.
The year 1915 saw the beginning and the end of a campaign which will go down to history as a splendid failure. Aided by the French, the British strove to force a right-of-way through the narrow and strongly fortified channels which give access from the Mediterranean Sea to the southern shores of Russia. Two attempts were made—the one naval, the other military—but both were fruitless. Ships of war strove to batter down the forts that commanded the channels, but had to retire discomfited. Then an army was landed on the Gallipoli peninsula, and a desperate effort was made to take the forts from the rear. The army was set an almost impossible task, yet it very nearly achieved the impossible. Men still live who surmounted the last great obstacle that lay between them and victory.
How the British and French landed on narrow beaches in the face of superior numbers of the enemy; how they fought their way up the cliffs in spite of artillery, machine guns, and entrenched infantry; how with superb courage and dogged endurance they established themselves on the peninsula; how they sacrificed themselves like the Spartans of old in fierce assaults on the ridges and high hills that barred the way to their goal; and how, finally, they withdrew to their ships without the loss of a single life—all this is a story which no Briton can read without mingled pride and pain: pride in the men of his race who nobly fought and died in the hopeless struggle; pain, that so much bright and gallant life should have been given in vain.
Henceforth the Gallipoli peninsula is sacred ground. The bones of tens of thousands of our gallant fellows lie buried in its soil. In days to come, when wandering Britons shall sail by its peaceful shores, they will hush theirvoices and think tenderly of those who sleep their last sleep amidst its rugged hills and deep ravines. It will be strange, too, if a prayer does not arise from their hearts that the Empire may ever be defended by men of such matchless valour and lofty devotion.
Before I describe the Dardanelles and the great naval attack on its forts, you must understand why we undertook the enterprise. It was, of course, to assist the Russians, who in the early months of 1915 were running short of big guns, rifles, and ammunition, and were unable to supply their needs by means of their own workshops. The Allies wished to help them, but were prevented from doing so to any great extent; because Russia in Europe is cut off from the open sea on all sides except in the extreme north, where the coast fronts the Arctic Ocean. The only port to which the Allies could send munitions was Archangel, which for about nine months of the year is frozen up. During the winter it was impossible for our ships to enter the harbour of Archangel at all. Even if Archangel had been open, matters would have been but little improved, for only a single line of railway connected this remote and evil-smelling port with the interior.[31]
Russia has a good deal of coast and many excellent harbours at the eastern end of the Baltic Sea; but our trading ships could not enter that sea because the Germans held the upper hand in it. Their warships lay in wait for all vessels coming through the narrow Danish channels. The only remaining sea coast of Russia in Europe lies along the ice-free Black Sea; but in order to reach its shores ships must traverse the narrow sea lane of the Dardanelles, cross the Sea of Marmora, and thread the strait of the Bosporus. When Turkey took the side of Germany this route was closed. Then, the only way by which the Allies could send guns and rifles and ammunition to Russia was to carry them by sea to one of the Siberian ports on the Pacific Ocean, where they were transferred to the Siberian railway and carried right across North Asia to Russia. Before a British or a French shell could reach Poland or Galicia it had to make an eight or nine weeks' voyage tothe East, and a railway journey of more than five thousand miles.
Now I think you understand why it was so vastly important that we should try to force a right-of-way through the Dardanelles. Until this was done the Allied armies in the East and in the West were more completely cut off from each other than if they had been fighting in different hemispheres. It was impossible to send reinforcements from one to the other without carrying them almost round the globe. Further, the overseas trade of Russia was terribly hampered by the blocking of the Baltic Sea and the Black Sea. Millions of bushels of wheat lay rotting in the warehouses of the Black Sea ports, and vast sums of money were being lost because they could not find an outlet. If Constantinople could be captured, the Turks could be ejected from Europe, and their armies rendered powerless. When this happened, Greece and Bulgaria would no longer listen to the tempting voice of the German. So you see that the forcing of the Dardanelles was of the utmost importance to the Allies. It was felt that once we had a clear road to South Russia the end of the war would be in sight.
Roughly speaking, the waterway between the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea resembles a narrow glass tube with a bulb blown in the middle of it. The Dardanelles forms the first part of the tube, the bulb is the Sea of Marmora, and the remaining part of the tube consists of the Bosporus, or Ox Ford. The Dardanelles, or the Hellespont as it was called in ancient times, extends for 45 miles; the Sea of Marmora is 175 miles in length, and the Bosporus continues the waterway for another 17 miles. On a clear day it is said that from a hill on the shores of the Dardanelles one may look right across the Sea of Marmora and behold Constantinople, nearly two hundred miles away.
Now let us suppose that we are making a voyage from the Ægean Sea to the Sea of Marmora in times of peace. When we enter the strait we find that it resembles a wide river rather than an arm of the sea; and this is not surprising, for the channel is nothing but the bed of a river that was submerged in far-off days. The channel is only about two and a half miles wide, and we can clearly see the shores on either side of us. On our right is Asia; on our left is Europe. Along the line of this waterway East and West have met since the days when the world was young.
Almost every mile of the Asiatic shore of the Dardanelles recalls memories of the song and story of ancient days. We have scarcely entered the strait before we see on the Asiatic side the Kum Kale fort, and behind it the classic ground on which stood the famous city of Troy. I am sure you remember how Paris carried off the lovely Queen Helen to Troy, and how Homer's heroes fought for ten long years before the city was captured, and she was recovered and carried back by her husband to her home in Greece. Modern historians, however, tell us that the Trojan War was fought not for the fair face of Helen, but because the king of Troy almost closed the waterway by levying crushing duties on the goods that passed his shores. It is strange to note that Britons and French have shed their blood at the Dardanelles in order that wheat from the fruitful lands bordering the Black Sea might pass freely to the Mediterranean, and so to the crowded cities of Western Europe.
On the eastern or Asiatic side we see sloping gardens and rich vineyards, and elsewhere there are low, wooded hills; but the western or European side consists of a long unbroken line of barren cliffs. We are gazing at the shores of the long and hilly Gallipoli peninsula, which, you will see from the map, somewhat resembles a thumb bent at the joint. At the tip of the peninsula are the forts of Cape Tekke, Cape Helles, and Sedd-ul-Bahr. These, with the fort of Kum Kale, which I have already mentioned, guard the entrance to the Dardanelles.
As we proceed, the Asiatic shore curves inland, but the European shore continues straight and unbroken. The strait now widens to a breadth of five miles; but at Kephez Point it closes in to less than two miles. About three miles further on the "Narrows" begin. At one point the shores are not more than fourteen hundred yards apart, and for about a mile onward they are everywhere within a mile and a half of each other. Every ship that sails from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Marmora must pass through this bottle neck.
No part of the Dardanelles is more famous in history than the "Narrows." Across the narrowest part of the Narrows Xerxes[32]flung his bridge of boats when he set out to conquer Europe. Herodotus, "the father of history," tells us that his Persians took seven days and seven nights, going continuously without any pause, to cross the bridge. A century and a half later Alexander the Great[33]re-bridged the channel when he began his great march into Asia. An old story tells us that every night Leander used to swim the Narrows from the Gallipoli side to visit Hero, his lady-love, who dwelt at Sestos, on the Asiatic side. The lighthouse at Sestos guided him; but one stormy night the light failed, and Hero waited for him in vain. Lord Byron swam the straits at this point in 1810. It was on the Asiatic shore of the Narrows that St. Paul heard the cry from Macedonia, "Come over and help us."
We need not proceed further with our voyage. The whole problem of forcing the Dardanelles centres on the "Narrows." Once they are safely passed, the broad, deep Sea of Marmora is easily traversed, and there is no obstacle between us and Constantinople. But how to pass the Narrows? There's the rub.
You may be sure that the Turks jealously guard these narrow waters. As early as 1460 forts were erected to defend them. Now both sides of the Narrows fairly bristle with powerful forts, in which big modern guns are mounted. You have already heard that the forts are provided with searchlights, which play across the water at night, and reveal the movements of even the smallest craft. Not only are the shores studded with forts, but batteries of big guns are concealed on the heights behind, and hidden torpedo tubes are ranged along the water's edge. Nature has also played her part in the defence of this dangerous and difficult channel. Swift currents sweep through the Narrows, and not only make navigation difficult, but carry along drifting mines. An enemy warship venturing into the channel must run the gauntlet of big guns on the shore and deadly explosives in the sea. While the defences remain intact the waterway is barred to her. To reduce the forts was, therefore, our first task.
I have already told you that when Britain declared war on Turkey (November 5th, 1914) a long friendship was broken. Our support of Turkey arose out of our deep distrust of Russia, now our good friend and loyal ally. We distrusted Russia because we knew that ever since the days of Peter the Great she had coveted Constantinople, and we feared that if she gained possession of that city our Far Eastern possessions would be threatened. We therefore threw in our lot with Turkey, and more than once saved her from being wiped off the map of Europe. During the present war we have reaped the bitter fruits of Turkish ingratitude.
About the year 1840 it seemed clear that Turkey was going to pieces, and that the break-up of her empire was only a matter of time. The Tsar Nicholas said to one of our ambassadors, "We have on our hands a sick man—a very sick man. It would be a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us before the necessary arrangements have been made." He therefore proposed to divide up the Turkish dominions, taking Constantinople for himself, and offering us Crete and Egypt as our share of the spoils. The bribe was, of course, refused.
A few years later Greek and Latin priests quarrelled as to who should take charge of the holy places in Palestine. The Tsar Nicholas supported the Greeks, and the French became the champions of the Latins. Then the Tsar put forward a claim that the Sultan should recognize him as the protector of all Christians within the Turkish Empire. This demand was, of course, resisted, and in 1853 Russian armies invaded Turkey. We were not in the least interested in the trivial dispute, but we hated and feared the prospect of the Russians in Constantinople. Further, as a great trading nation, we wished to keep the Dardanelles open for peaceful commerce, and we thought that this could best be done if the straits remained in the hands of a weak Power such as Turkey. So we joined the French, and fought the Russians in the Crimea. We lost 24,000 men in the course of the war, and added £41,000,000 to our national debt; but we prevented the Russians from overwhelming the Turks.
Even this poor success was not lasting. Strife, tumult, and murder reigned in the Balkans under the cruel and blighting government of the Sultan, and twenty-four years later Russia again sent her armies into Turkey. The Russians drove back the Turks, and early in 1878 they were within a short distance of Constantinople. A cry of alarm and indignation broke out in England, and people went about the London streets shouting a popular song with the refrain, "The Russians shall not take Constantinople."
So strong was public feeling that a British fleet was ordered to the Dardanelles. The admiral was instructed to pass the straits, and, "if fired upon and his ships struck, to return the fire, but not to wait to silence the forts." On February 13, 1878, seven ships of war, under Admiral Hornby, steamed up the Dardanelles. The Turks manned the forts at the Narrows; but when the ships came up against a strong current and in the face of a blinding snowstorm, they forbore to fire their guns. There was an anxious moment when theAlexandra, which led the line, ran aground on the Asiatic side, within easy range of Turkish batteries. She was, however, unmolested, and managed to get off after four hours' hard work. She then joined her consorts in the Sea of Marmora, and the guns ofthe ships were trained on the domes and minarets of the Turkish capital.
No doubt the presence of a British fleet within striking range of Constantinople had its effect upon the Russians. They did not enter the city, but agreed to make a treaty with the Powers, by which Serbia, Montenegro, and Rumania became independent states, and Bulgaria was granted a form of Home Rule. The Christian states which have been carved out of Turkey in Europe owe everything to Russia. As you know, the Christians of the Balkans are Slavs, and are akin to the Russians both by race and religion. Russia has always been their friend and champion, and Serbia and Montenegro have stood by their benefactor during the present war. Rumania had, so far, determined to remain neutral; but Bulgaria, as we shall learn later, played a traitor's part, and before the year 1915 was out she had joined the Central Powers.
Britain has suffered greatly for her mistake in bolstering up the Turks, and in preventing the Russians from becoming masters of Constantinople. Had they been in possession of that city when the present war broke out, the work of overcoming the Germans and Austrians would have been shorn of half its difficulty. The Dardanelles would have been in the hands of our friends, and there would have been an open sea road by which Russia could have carried on her overseas trade, and received munitions and supplies from her Allies. There would have been no need for that naval attack on the forts of the Dardanelles which I am about to describe; nor should we have undertaken that land campaign in the Gallipoli peninsula which cost us more than 117,000 casualties, and ended in failure, only redeemed by the splendid gallantry of our men.
You have heard how Admiral Hornby's fleet threaded the Dardanelles in 1878 without firing a shot. Now let me tell you very briefly how a British squadron forced its way through the straits in spite of strong resistance. In the year 1807, when we alone of all the European nations were holding out against the French, it was thought that if a British fleet were sent to Constantinople the Turks might be forced to break with Napoleon. So a powerful squadron under Admiral Duckworth sailed for the Dardanelles, with orders to demand the surrender of the Turkish fleet. If the demand was refused, he was to bombard Constantinople. Those were the days of sailing ships, and it was not easy to get men-of-war andfrigates up the narrow winding waters, where the winds were irregular and the currents were baffling. The "castles" at the entrance and the forts at the Narrows opened fire on the ships; but little harm was done, and they passed through and anchored off Constantinople. It now seemed likely that under the muzzles of British guns the Sultan would give way. The French agents, however, persuaded him to "play for time," so that heavy batteries might be set up on the shores of the straits, and Duckworth's ships might be bombarded as they tried to return to the Mediterranean. Duckworth, you will notice, was in a very tight place. He was cut off from the open sea, and he could obtain no fresh supplies of food, water, or ammunition. It was clear that when his stores were exhausted he would be at the mercy of his enemies. So, before he could come to any agreement with the Sultan, he was forced to retire. His ships sailed slowly across the Sea of Marmora, and when the Narrows were reached the Turkish batteries opened fire with huge balls of marble, said to be hewn out of columns found amidst the ruins of Troy. One enormous stone shot cut the mainmast of the flagship in two; a second, that hit another vessel, knocked three gun ports into one, and killed or wounded sixty men. Finally, by good luck, the ships reached the open sea in safety. All on board were convinced that the experiment was too risky to be repeated.
Our greatest sailor, Nelson, always believed that strong, heavily armed forts could resist the attack of ships. When he was asked to reduce certain forts in Corsica by means of gun fire, he pointed out that stone walls were stronger than wooden walls, and that red-hot cannon balls from the guns of the forts might set his ships on fire. Since his day wooden walls have been replaced by armour plate, and red-hot shot by high-explosive shells. Nevertheless it is still true that shore batteries are more than a match for the heaviest armed battleships afloat. Of course, weak or badly-manned forts have been overcome by the guns of ships, as in the case of those at Alexandria, which were silenced by a British fleet in 1882; but as a rule ships run a great risk in attacking forts at close range, and are more than likely to come off second best.
While a fort can only be put out of action by gun fire, a ship can be sunk not only by gun fire, but by mines or torpedoes. Forts can be strengthened to almost any extent, and protected by earthworks of all kinds, but there is a limit to the thickness and weight of the armour plate with which ships can be clad. Further, while shore batteries can be so hidden that they cannot be detected even from aeroplanes, a ship in action is in full sight of the fort, and is thus a good target. Then, again, hits made on the outer slopes of forts do but little damage. The only hits that really count are those which destroy or dismount guns, and such "direct hits" are few and far between. On the other hand, every shot that hits the ship is bound to tell, and the ship may be put out of action without a single gun being hit. You must also remember that while the fortress gunner is aiming at a wall twenty or thirty feet high and a hundred feet long, the ship's gunner can only fire at a low mound, or at a battery not more than four and a half feet in height.
Even more difficult is the task of a ship's gunner when he is aiming at forts or batteries on high ground. It is not easy for a naval gun to bring an effective fire to bear on a target at a high level above the sea. Batteries on rising ground are difficult to reach, and when they are "spotted" they can be shifted to other positions, in which case the ship's gunners have to find the range all over again. When the shells from the ship's guns strike the ground they throw up columns of dust, and it is difficult for observers on board the ship or in the air to see exactly where the shells fall; but shells from the forts or land batteries drop into the sea, and throw up fountains of water which are clearly visible, and enable the observers on land to discover and set right all errors of range.
A ship attacking a fort from the sea may silence it for a time; but when the ship draws off, as it is bound to do, the fort may be repaired and new guns may be mounted. Unless a landing-party goes ashore and utterly destroys the fort, there is no guarantee that the ship's work will not have to be done all over again. Even if forts are blown up, land batteries can be established, and resistance can be continued. Without land forces to occupy the shores on which the forts are situated, no really lasting result can be obtained by the ships.
Now that you understand the disadvantages under which a fleet attacks forts, you will naturally ask why the British Government only sent ships to break down the defences of the Dardanelles. Why was not an army landed on the Gallipoli peninsula, to get behind the forts, or to attack them in the rear while the ships bombarded them from the sea? In the first weeks of February we were not ready to fit out and send a sufficiently strong army to the Gallipoli peninsula. Why, then, were the naval attacks not postponed until the armywasready? Probably it was thought that if we hastened to show our strength in Near Eastern waters Greece, Bulgaria, and perhaps Rumania, might be won over to our side, or, at least, persuaded to turn a deaf ear to the tempting voice of the Kaiser. Further, some of the rulers of our navy really believed that the armament of our warships was now so powerful that the straits could be carried by gun fire alone. The idea of our Admiralty was to silence the forts at the entrance to the straits, then with a fleet of mine-sweepers from the North Sea to clear the inner waters so that warships could steam sufficiently near to the forts at the Narrows to concentrate a fierce fire on them. When they were silenced the ships would dash through.
But even supposing the forts could be thus silenced, and our warships could slip through the straits, what then? So long as the Turks held the shores they could repair the damage to their forts, mount new batteries, strew the waters with mines, and take a heavy toll of our ships when lack of supplies forced them to return. Those who planned this naval attack probably thought that the Turks would give in as soon as Constantinople was shelled. But such a happy ending to the adventure was very doubtful.
So you see that unless the ships were supported by land forces sufficient to hold at least one of the shores of the straits, all the efforts of the fleet were likely to prove fruitless. Nevertheless an unsupported naval attack was decided upon, and this was the first of the many costly mistakes which were made at the Dardanelles. When our ships began bombarding the forts, the Turks and their German advisers knew that we should have to make a land attack sooner or later. With feverish haste they therefore began to dig trenches and make gun pits on the Gallipoli peninsula. Thus, the Turks were afforded a breathing space in which to make any future land operations doubly difficult.