You are now to imagine yourself wrapped in the invisible cloak of the fairies, and able to move over land and sea, where you will, with the speed of thought. Thus magically endowed, you will be able to flit to and fro, and witness one of the most remarkable invasions known to history.
Dusk is falling on the evening of 23rd April, and you are hovering over the Lemnian harbour of Mudros. The haven is as crowded as the port of Liverpool. In the dim light you see a huge fleet of grim, gray warships of all classes, from the mightyQueen Elizabethdown to the little puffing launches that speed from ship to ship. You also notice many great transports, grimy colliers, mine-sweepers, and trawlers. As you watch, a large number of the warships, transports, and mine-sweepers cast off and move out of the harbour. Their lights disappear in the distance. They are off to Tenedos, where they will embark the troops that are to land on the beaches round the tip of the peninsula.
The morning of the 24th sees the harbour still busy and animated, though most of the ships have departed. An almost unending stream of boats, each of them packed with tall, bronzed Australians and New Zealanders, plies towards the warships and transports that remain. By noon 10,000 men are on board; all are in the highest spirits, keen and eager for the coming battle. Every man knows what lies before him. All have read or heard the Commander-in-Chief's message addressed to "Soldiers of France and of the King":—
"Before us lies an adventure unprecedented in modern war. Together with our comrades of the Fleet, we are about to force a landing upon an open beach in face of positions which have been vaunted by our enemies as impregnable."The landing will be made good, by the help of God and the Navy; the positions will be stormed, and the war brought one step nearer to a glorious close."'Remember,' said Lord Kitchener, when bidding adieu to your Commander—'remember, once you set foot upon the Gallipoli Peninsula, you must fight the thing through to a finish.'"The whole world will be watching our progress. Let us prove ourselves worthy of the great feat of arms entrusted to us.
"Before us lies an adventure unprecedented in modern war. Together with our comrades of the Fleet, we are about to force a landing upon an open beach in face of positions which have been vaunted by our enemies as impregnable.
"The landing will be made good, by the help of God and the Navy; the positions will be stormed, and the war brought one step nearer to a glorious close.
"'Remember,' said Lord Kitchener, when bidding adieu to your Commander—'remember, once you set foot upon the Gallipoli Peninsula, you must fight the thing through to a finish.'
"The whole world will be watching our progress. Let us prove ourselves worthy of the great feat of arms entrusted to us.
"Ian Hamilton,General."
We will now follow the fortunes of the gallant Australians and New Zealanders. The transports, escorted by the Second Squadron of the Fleet, steam slowly on, and by half-past one on the morning of the 25th have reached a prearranged point. The sea is calm, there is scarcely a breath of wind, the moon is shining behind the ships, and the silence of night is only broken by the throb of the propellers. The ships heave to. Swiftly, and with scarce a sound, shadowy figures climb down into boats. They are the 1,500 men who are to be the first to set foot on the peninsula. Meanwhile their comrades are being transferred from the transports to six destroyers. It is now 2.30, and the warships, together with the destroyers and the towed boats, move slowly and silently towards a point about a mile north of Gaba Tepe. At 3.30 the order is given to "go ahead and land." Away go the boats, and, forty minutes later, the destroyers follow them.
Now the hazy dawn begins to break, and the men in the boats see before them the loom of the steep cliffs underneath which they are soon to tread. Beneath those cliffs there is a very narrow strip of sand, about a thousand yards long, closed in on the north and south by small promontories. Near the northern end of the beach a small but steep gully runs up into the hills at right angles to the shore. At the southern end there is a deep ravine with very steep, scrub-clad sides. Between the ravine and the gully a lofty spur comes down to the shore. Such is the landing-place. The Commander-in-Chief has chosen it because he thinks the enemy would never suppose that he would dream of making a landing in such an unfavourable position. Henceforth it will be known all the world over as Anzac[45]Cove.
The boats and destroyers steal in towards the land. They are now close to the shore, and the troops perceive that they must fight for a footing. Turkish soldiers are seen running along the beach ready to give the boats a warm reception. Not a word is spoken: our men remain perfectly still and quiet, awaiting the enemy's fire. A few moments more, and bullets rain down on them. Many a man has breathed his last before the boats run aground.
The keels have not touched the sand when the Australians of the 3rd Brigade spring out of their boats. A blaze of fire sweeps against them from the Turkish trenches on the beach, but they heed it not. With fixed bayonets they dash forward, as though they mean to conquer the whole peninsula by one mighty rush. On they go, and the Turks flee before them. The beach is carried with cold steel, and in open order they dive into the scrub and scramble up the hundred feet of cliff that rises before them. The famous exploit at Wolfe's Cove, when the Heights of Abraham were scaled, is altogether outdone.[46]
Now they are on the top of the cliff, and come under the main Turkish fire. The ground, however, gives them good cover, and they speedily dig themselves in. By seven in the morning they are holding the cliff top. Meanwhile the 1st and 2nd Brigades have come ashore, and two batteries of Indian Mountain Artillery have been landed. The enemy is now shelling the transports, and they are obliged to stand out to sea. Further artillery cannot, therefore, be put ashore just yet. By noon more than 10,000 men are on the beach, or are climbing the gully and the ravine. The thousand yards of shore is covered with busy working-parties. Stores are being landed, the Royal Engineers are making roads, and wireless stations are being erected; and all the time Turkish shells are falling fast and thick. Our warships are at work, but the morning sun is in the eyes of the gunners, and they fire at a disadvantage.
The Australians on the cliff top have not been content to remain idle in their hastily-dug trenches. They rashly push on across three ridges, and actually come within sight of the Narrows; but now the enemy is strongly reinforced, and they are driven back with heavy loss. Stretcher-bearers are stumbling down the steep paths and across the beach carrying their freight of wounded to the hospital ships on the bullet-splashed sea. There is much confusion as the advancing troops meet those who are retiring; but before noon a semicircular position on the cliffs is firmly held. Parties of the 9th and 10th Battalions charge and put out of action three of the enemy's Krupp guns.
The Turks now begin their counter-attacks, which continue far into the night. Again and again our men make bayonet charges, and the line holds fast. They have suffered terribly, but they have made good their footing, and are firmly placed at Gaba Tepe, on Anzac territory.
Now we must hurry southwards and see how matters are faring at Beach Y. Three cruisers—Dublin,Amethyst, andSapphire—have covered the landing of the 1st Battalion King's Own Scottish Borderers and the Plymouth (Marine) Battalion. The men have leaped ashore on a narrow strip of sand at the foot of a crumbling, scrub-covered cliff 200 feet high. They climb to the top of the cliffs by means of a number of small gullies, and there establish themselves, almost without loss. Food, water, and ammunition are hauled up. Now the Turks begin to attack them, and are fiercely resisted. Later in the day the enemy, largely reinforced, advances from the direction of Krithia, and our men have to dig in. Against them the Turks launch attack after attack, supported by heavy guns. Owing to the sharp fall of the ground behind the cliffs, our warships can render but little assistance. Through the afternoon and night the attacks continue, and our men make several desperate bayonet charges. But it is clear, even now, that they cannot maintain themselves in this position. By seven o'clock on the morning of the 26th the King's Own Scottish Borderers have lost half their number, including their gallant colonel.
The order for withdrawal is given. A small rearguard of the King's Own Scottish Borderers with desperate valour holds off the enemy, while the rest, with their wounded, stores, and ammunition, re-embark, and are safely brought round to the southern end of the peninsula. The landing at Y has failed, and our losses have been very heavy; but the plucky stand of the two battalions has prevented large numbers of the enemy from going to the assistance of their comrades at other points, where, as you will soon learn, a very touch-and-go struggle is in progress.
A short journey southward brings us to Beach X, where the 1st Royal Fusiliers have been landed. TheSwiftsurehas plastered the high ground with shells, and theImplacable, which has anchored close inshore, is bringing every gun to bear on the Turkish position. Without losing a single man, the Fusiliers push up a low cliff and entrench themselves. By evening they are in touch with their comrades at Beach W. A Turkish battery which gets the range of our men is knocked out by a fine shot from theImplacable. At Beach X everything is going well.
We now hurry away to Beach W, between Cape Tekke and Cape Helles. Here a doubtful battle is raging. The beach consists of deep, powdery sand, and is 350 yards long, with steep ground on the flank and sand dunes in the centre. The Turks have turned this beach into a perfect death-trap. Close to the water's edge there is a broad wire entanglement running the whole length of the shore, and in front of it, in the shallow sea, there is another similar barricade. There are lines of trenches on the high ground; machine guns are tucked away into holes in the cliff; snipers lurk in the scrub, and there is not an inch of the shore which cannot be swept by deadly fire. On a hill overlooking the beach there are two redoubts, and elsewhere in the line of possible advance there are other formidable obstacles. Land mines and sea mines have been laid, and the Turks may well boast that no invader will ever remain alive on this terrible beach.
Lancashire men are now about to perform one of the finest feats of arms ever achieved by British soldiers or by any other soldiers. They are about to storm this death-trap from open boats! Hereafter, as a tribute to their splendid valour, Beach W will be known as Lancashire Landing.
At six in the morning of the 25th eight picket boats, in line abreast, each boat towing four ship's cutters packed with men of the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers, approach the shore. As soon as shallow water is reached the tows are cast off, and oars are plied. The first boat touches the shore, and out spring the Fusiliers, to be met by a hurricane of lead from the Turkish trenches. Many a man receives his death-wound while waist-deep in the water, but the unfaltering Fusiliers rush ashore, and though fired at from the right, the left, and the centre, begin hacking their way through the wire. A long line of men is at once mown down as by a scythe; but the remainder, now covered by the guns of the warships, and helped by the flanking fire of a party which has secured a foothold on a small ledge of rock under the cliff, break through the entanglements, and, rapidly re-forming, hurl themselves on the Turkish trenches. Several land mines are exploded, but nothing can stem the torrent of the British advance. By ten o'clock three lines of the enemy's trenches are in our hands.
On the right some of the Fusiliers have come under the fire of a redoubt, and they can make but little headway in this direction. The edge of the wire entanglements is reached, but they can go no further. They are now lying under the scanty cover of a sand-bank, cleaning their rifles, which have been wetted by sea-water and choked with sand.
The guns of the warships boom out, and a rain of shells falls near the redoubt. About 2 p.m. the Worcester Regiment dashes forward. Men hack their way through the entanglements, and, in spite of heavy losses, carry the redoubt by storm. Now an attempt is made to join hands with the troops which are in dire peril on Beach V; but the defences are too strong to be broken through. Men are seen under an awful fire calmly snipping the wire as though they were pruning a vineyard. But the troops are worn out by their long labours under a hot sun, and the attack is perforce suspended. When night falls the Turks make assault after assault on the wearied invaders. So hard pressed are they that even the working parties on the beach have to be flung into the trenches in order that the line may be held. Happily the attacks of the enemy are beaten off, and no ground is lost. So the night passes, and the dawn ushers in another day of struggle and anxiety.
Now we hurry off to Beach V, where tragic events are taking place. Beach V resembles an old Greek theatre. There is a stretch of sand as at Beach W, and running along it is a low sandy ridge, four feet high, which affords some shelter. Beyond rise grassy terraces to a height of 100 feet. The rising ground is flanked on the one side by an old castle, and on the other side by a modern fort. On the heights overlooking the shore the Turks have massed artillery, machine guns, and riflemen. On the very margin of the beach there is an exceedingly strong barbed-wire fence, and two-thirds of the way up there is an even stronger obstacle. From all sides the defenders can pour down a deadly fire on the landing parties. So strongly defended is this beach that special arrangements have been made to cope with it. Large doors have been cut in the steel plates of a collier, theRiver Clyde, and wide gangplank have been slung from her side. These gangways slope gradually down from the doors to her bows, so that men can pass along on both sides in single file, and jump on to the lighters which she will tow in with her. Her bridge has been turned into a little fortress, and behind steel plates and sand-bags in her bows there are twelve machine guns to cover the landing. Two thousand men of the Hampshires and Munster Fusiliers have been stowed on board, and now she steams bow on to the shore close to a reef of rock. The lighters are placed in position so as to form a bridge between the gangway and the rock.
Eight boatloads of Dublin Fusiliers towed by steam pinnaces make a dash for the shore. Every kind of missile is hurled at them, and the men suffer horribly. Some few manage to gain the beach and take refuge under the sandbank already mentioned. None of the boats, however, push off again. They and their crews are destroyed.
Now comes the moment for theRiver Clyde, like the horse of Troy, to pour forth its living freight; but there is grievous delay, for the current runs strongly, and there is grave difficulty in keeping the lighters in position. The splendid pluck and tenacity of the naval working-party are tried to the utmost, and many splendid deeds of heroism are accomplished before the bridge of boats holds fast. Now a company of the Munster Fusiliers, followed by a second company, issues from the ship and strives to cross the shifting and swaying bridge. The lighters give way in the current; the end one nearest the shore drifts into deep water, and many men striving to swim from it to the beach are drowned. All the time a perfect tornado of fire sweeps down upon them. A third company essays the task: the lighters are filled with dead and wounded. A thousand men have striven to land, but barely five hundred have got ashore. So hot is the Turkish fire that the remaining men in theRiver Clydedare not emerge. A man has only to show his head to be instantly picked off.
Twenty-four hours after theRiver Clyderuns ashore there are but the survivors of the Dublin and the Munster Fusiliers and two companies of the Hampshire Regiment on the beach, and they are still crouching beneath the shelter of the sandy ridge. Early in the morning theCornwallis,Albion, andQueen Elizabethcome to the rescue and begin a heavy bombardment of the enemy. Under cover of this bombardment the men on the beach push up the slopes on the bluff under a most galling fire, and capture the village, a fort, and a hill. The landing can now go forward. By the evening of Tuesday, the 27th, Beach V is in working order.
The whole scene on the beach reminds you of a gigantic shipwreck. It looks as if the whole army with its stores had been washed ashore after a great gale, or had saved themselves on rafts. All this work is carried on under an incessant shrapnel fire which sweeps the trenches and hills. The shells are frequently bursting ten or twelve at the same moment, making a deafening noise, and plastering the foreshore with bullets. The only safe place is close under the cliff, but every one is rapidly becoming accustomed to the shriek of the shells and the splash of bullets in the water, and the work goes on as if there was not a gun within miles.
Before I conclude this account of the landing I must say a word as to the part played by the French in the operations. Their duty was to land on the Asiatic shore at Kum Kale, and engage the batteries so that they could not interfere with the landings at Beaches V and S. During a skirmish which took place on the height at Kum Kale and on the Trojan plain the French took 500 prisoners, and would have captured more had there been room for them in the boats. This French diversion enabled trawlers to land 700 men of the 2nd South Wales Borderers at Beach S. A stiff little fight followed; but the Welshmen gained the top of the cliff, and digging themselves in, managed to hold their own until theposition was taken over by the French. Their landing had only cost them fifty casualties. A company was also put ashore at Camber, a little boat harbour nestling just east and under the ruined fort of Sedd-ul-Bahr. This little force, however, met with such a fierce fire that it could make no progress up the steep cliffs towards the village, and had to be withdrawn.
Thus the landing was made, and a feat believed to be impossible was performed. When we consider how strongly the Turks were posted, how skilfully their trenches were made, how completely the beaches were swept by their fire, we are lost in admiration of the superb gallantry and contempt of life displayed by our men. You will read on a later page some account of those who specially distinguished themselves; but do not forget that many heroes who deserved the Victoria Cross had laid down their lives before the tops of the cliffs were reached. We were on the peninsula at last, but our footing was very insecure. We had our backs to the sea and our faces to a stubborn foe, who was holding positions of enormous strength. In later chapters we shall learn how these positions baffled every effort of the most heroic of men to carry them. For the moment, however, we were flushed with victory, and our hopes were high.
Now that you have read an account of how we gained a foothold, and no more than a foothold, on the Gallipoli peninsula, you will agree with me that only an army of heroes could have performed the feat. All fought magnificently, but the Anzacs carried off the palm. A correspondent tells us that one man, renowned for his height and great strength, jumped into a Turkish trench and bayoneted five men one after the other, hurling each of them over the parapet as coolly and as easily as if he had been tossing hay. Hundreds of grim tales of this kind are told of the Australians' fierce onset. Wounded men who emerged from the struggle shouted to those who cheered them, "We are going to do better when we get back." They described the fighting as "a great game—the best game we ever had." "We made them run," said one Australian. "We wanted to let the Turks know what Australian steel was like, and they ran screeching and howling before us." Two New Zealanders were seen chasing eleven Turks, who fled in terror before them.
Bugler W. S. Manchip of the 1st Australian Imperial Force thus describes the desperate fighting in which he took part: "When we were near the shore a signal light flashed two or three times, but the boat I was in ran up the beach, and several of us were safe ashore before a rifle shot split the air. Then almost immediately a perfect shower of bullets fell around us. Fixing bayonets, the boys charged the hills without firing a shot until the light of the dawn was sufficient to enable them to make sure of their aim. Although I passed several dead Turks on my way forward, I only saw two who had been bayoneted, for most of them did not wait for a taste of that eighteen inches of cold steel, but ran, sniping at us whenever they got the chance, until we had them back about two miles, when we emerged from the undergrowth and broken country on to a stretch of flat land. There we were met by a perfect fusillade from thousands of rifles, and we had to take what cover we could, which was not much. After being under the withering fire of the Turkish rifles and machine guns, which were well entrenched, for nearly an hour, the enemy opened fire on us with shrapnel, and it was terrible, as we were unable to move, and men were falling around us by the dozen. . . . In the night they charged upon our trenches, blowing bugles and shouting, 'Allah! Allah!' When the order was given to 'Fix bayonets! Charge!' they did not wait for us, but fled back to their trenches. About four o'clock on Wednesday I was passing across an open space in the trench with a tin of water, when a bullet struck me in the back, cutting through my equipment, tunic, jersey, and braces. The latter, being made of hard leather, stopped the course of the bullet, and I only received a bruise on my back."
A writer inBlackwood's Magazinethus describes the landing of the K.O.S.B.'s on Beach Y: "It is no time to dwell on what might have been, but I cannot deny myself mention of the fact that we were actually on the slopes of Achi Baba that first day, thanks to the dauntless K.O.S.B.'s, who pushed through from Y Beach to Krithia almost unopposed, fought their way through the ruins on to the farther slopes—and then, owing to lack of supports, marched all the way back again under a devastating fire. In the advance the battalion's losses were small; coming back they were dreadfully punished, and at last dug themselves in on the seaward side of Krithia, to meet a force of at least five times their number." The K.O.S.B.'s, you will remember, were re-embarked and taken round to Beach W.
"'Could you have done anything else?' I asked a Scottish Borderer, as we sat in the scrub looking towards the hill, long afterwards.
"'Ah believe,' said he, 'properly reinforced in the rear, we could 'a taken Achi Baba by twelve noon on the day o' the landin'.'
"Thisis the opinion of a serving soldier, one of the eighty odd men still alive who won to the gently rising slopes of this formidable position, a bone in our throats for six deadly months—and there still."
Corporal J. Collins of the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers gives us a glimpse of the terrible scenes which took place on Beach W, where the men of his regiment covered themselves with glory. "In my first boat," he says, "there were thirty-eight soldiers and four sailors, and when we got near the shore the boat drifted about, so I decided to make for land. I got into the water, and, being a strong swimmer, I was able to pull one of my comrades on to my shoulder. Thus we struggled ashore. Then we stumbled across barbed wire. The sand and the water choked my rifle, and I was unable to use it when I landed, except the bayonet. We struggled through the entanglements, and made for the cliffs, while bullets were whistling and shrapnel shrieking all round us. While I was advancing a shrapnel shell whistled past my breast, tearing my ammunition pouch away, and reducing my clothes to tatters. The same shell killed some of my comrades farther in the line. Keeping on, we took the first Turkish trench."
Leading Seaman Gilligan of H.M.S.Euryalusthus wrote: "We landed the Lancashire Fusiliers, thirty-five in each boat. I shall never forget it as long as I live. It was wicked, and I, like a lot more, never expected to come through it whole. There were four boats in tow of a steam pinnace, and there was no sign of the enemy until we touched the shore. Then they opened fire, strongly entrenched above us in the cliffs, with machine guns. As soon as we touched the beach we could see the wire entanglements. The fire was terrible—just like a hailstorm. I jumped out of the stern up to my arms in water, and pushed the boat in. The sergeant jumped in front of me, and got mortally wounded. The cries of the wounded were terrible. It is without equal in this war, this landing of troops under fire. The Turks drove our men right back to the beach that Sunday night. There were 38,000 Turks, and 1,100 of our fellows held them. However, we have made progress since then, and I am proud to have had a share in it."
An observer on a battleship[47]thus describes what he saw on Beaches V and W: "Towards Sedd-ul-Bahr (where the forts were beginning to reek with bursting shells) I saw a transport with her nose well up the beach. This was theRiver Clyde, then in the act of letting loose out of her riven side those unspeakably gallant men of the Munster, Dublin, and other regiments, whom Colonel Doughty-Wylie (amongst us only the day before) led to the capture of a strong redoubt and to his death. Between us and theRiver Clyde, in the lee of the low, scrubby cliffs, I could make out a flag-pole and a dark cluster on the beach around it. This was the point of assembly on W Beach, now christened Lancashire Landing, to commemorate the daring of those Lancashire regiments which won through here. Gradually a movement became noticeable. The cluster spread out, took the nearest dunes at a run, disappeared—and a crackling undercurrent in the din of big guns was all that told of a fierce charge and the first trenches won. All the while the little trawlers, the tug boats, and the lighters, full of the finest soldiers, went to and fro through a deluge of bullets, which splashed the water with a hiss like the rain that comes with thunder."
The following heroes of the landing were awarded Victoria Crosses:—
Captain Richard Raymond Willis,Sergeant Alfred Richards, andPrivate William Keneally, all of the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers.
You have already heard of the marvellous heroism of the Lancashire Fusiliers on Beach W, and no Lancashire boy or girl will ever forget how they cut their way through the wire entanglements, notwithstanding a terrific fire from the enemy, and, in spite of unheard-of difficulties, gained the cliffs, and there firmly established themselves. Every man who engaged in this desperate struggle deserved the highest award of valour. It was quite impossible for the generals to pick and choose amongst these bravest of the brave, so the survivors were asked to elect the three of their comrades who, in their opinion, had done the most signal acts of bravery and devotion during the day of the landing. With one consent they elected the three heroes named above.
Corporal William Cosgrove, 1st Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers.
On Beach V, where so many of the Munsters went gallantly to their death, Corporal Cosgrove showed splendid dash and spirit. Single-handed he pulled down the posts of the enemy's high wire entanglements, notwithstanding a terrific burst of fire from the enemy. Thanks very largely to the corporal's splendid pluck the heights were at last cleared.
Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Hotham Montagu Doughty-Wylie, Headquarters Staff, andCaptain Garth Neville Walford, Brigade Major, Royal Artillery.
On page253I told you that the Dublin Fusiliers, the Munsters, and the Hampshires, who had landed on Beach V from theRiver Clyde, were rallied and led forward to attack the village and a redoubt on a hill inland. The officer who rallied the men was Lieutenant-Colonel Doughty-Wylie, a staff officer, who ought not to have been in the firing line; but seeing that the attacking force had lost many of its officers, he sprang into the breach. He was seen with a cane in his hand going amongst the troops and encouraging them. When they charged up the hill with the bayonet he was at their head. Unhappily he was shot down, and the Victoria Cross was awarded to him after his death. Captain Walford behaved in the same heroic fashion, and he, too, lost his life during those terrible hours.
Commander Edward Unwin, R.N.;Midshipman Wilfred St. Aubyn Malleson, R.N.;Midshipman George Leslie Drewry, R.N.R.;Able Seaman William Charles Williams, R.N.;Seaman George M'Kenzie Samson, R.N.R.
No finer deeds of heroism stand to the credit of the British Navy than those which I am now about to describe. When theRiver Clydewas run ashore a floating bridge of lighters was formed. The swirling current drove the lighters adrift, and the bridge was broken. Observing this,Commander Unwinleft theRiver Clyde, and, standing waist deep in the water under a murderous fire, endeavoured to get the lighters into position again. He worked on until, suffering from the effects of the cold water, he was obliged to return to the ship, where he was wrapped in blankets. Having somewhat recovered, he returned to his work against the doctor's orders, and completed it. Later on he was slightly wounded by three bullets; but as soon as the doctor had attended to him he once more left the ship, this time in a lifeboat, to save some wounded men who were lying in shallow water near the beach. Hecontinued at this labour of mercy, under constant fire, until he was so worn out that he could no longer stand.
Midshipman Drewryassisted Commander Unwin in the work of getting the lighters into position, and toiled on, utterly regardless of the heavy fire. He was twice hit; but even when wounded he tried to swim from lighter to lighter with a line, and only gave up the effort when he was thoroughly exhausted. An observer saw him swimming to a lighter with a line in his mouth and a wound in his head, while rocks, lighters, and boats were covered with dead and dying. When he was utterly worn outMidshipman Mallesontook the line, swam to the second lighter, and made it fast, thus enabling some of the men from theRiver Clydeto get ashore. Later on the line broke, and he once more took to the water with another line. Twice he attempted to reach the lighter, but all his efforts were in vain.
Seaman Samsonworked all day on the lighter nearest to the shore, attending to the wounded and getting out lines. At length he was badly hit, but he made a good recovery, and when he reached Portsmouth was received by the Mayor and a guard of honour. Some weeks later the people of Carnoustie, his native place, made him handsome presents at a public meeting. Seaman Samson was the first British bluejacket for fifty years to win and wear the Victoria Cross.Seaman Williamswent ashore with a line, and, waist-deep in the water, held on to it for over an hour. He was fired at constantly, and at last fell riddled with bullets. The coveted badge of valour was awarded after his heroic death.
Sub-Lieutenant A. W. St. Clair Tisdall, R.N.V.R.
This gallant officer, who in his Cambridge days was renowned as a scholar and a poet, fought as an ordinary seaman at Antwerp. During the landing on Beach V he displayed remarkable heroism. Hearing the cries of wounded men on shore, he jumped into the water, and pushing a boat before him went to their rescue. With the assistance of several comrades he made five trips under heavy fire between theRiver Clydeand the shore, and thus saved the lives of many wounded men. He was killed in action on May 6, 1915, and his Victoria Cross was not announced until the last day of March 1916.
The Gallipoli campaign was a diversion that did not succeed—a side-show that failed. I shall not, therefore, describe the progress of the fighting in full detail. The story is rather a footnote to the history of the Great War than part of the text. We may divide the story—as Cæsar did Gaul—into three parts. Part I. deals with the fighting from the day of the landing on 25th April down to 13th July, and tells how we battered at the Achi Baba barrier while the Anzacs strove to carry the high and rugged hills on their front. Part II. carries on the story to the middle fortnight of August, when, with the aid of five new divisions, we made a big effort to break through at Suvla and Anzac; and Part III. describes the long period of waiting until those December and January days when we "came off" the peninsula without the loss of a single life. In this chapter I shall give you very briefly Part I. of the story.
On the night of 27th April the Allies lay on a line running across the peninsula about three miles north of Cape Tekke. Next day, at eight in the morning, an advance was made on the village of Krithia; and though the Turks strongly opposed us, the 87th Brigade, on the left, advanced two miles, while the French, on the right, pushed forward a mile. By the evening of the 27th we securely held the tip of the peninsula. During the fighting theQueen Elizabeth, far out at sea, observed 250 of the enemy preparing to make an attack from a point where they could not be seen by the troops on shore. Immediately she dropped a shrapnel shell amongst them. It weighed 1,800 pounds, and contained 13,000 bullets. When the smoke cleared away it was discovered that the attacking party had been completely wiped out.
On 1st May, after we had been reinforced, the Turks made a fierce counter-attack, and what is known as the First Battle of Krithia began.[48]All day their big guns roared, and at night, when the moon rose, their infantry darted forward. On the right, where the shelling had been heaviest, the Turks opened a gap in our lines, but it was promptly filled up by the 5th Royal Scots, who with the bayonet cleared the Turks out of the trenches which they had occupied. All night the battle raged, and we only held on to our position with the greatest difficulty. At dawn the next day we counter-attacked, and the whole line moved forward five hundred yards. Had the French not been held up on the right by barbed wire and concealed machine guns, we should have carried Achi Baba that day. Severe fighting went on during the 4th and the 5th, and our casualties were very heavy. Between the day of the landing and 6th May we lost 14,000 men, 3,593 of whom had been cut off in the difficult country and made prisoners.
The Second Battle of Krithia, which began on 6th May, lasted for three days. Our left and centre strove to carry Krithia ridge, while the French attempted to get across the small river beyond Morto Bay which you see on the map. The French 75's and the guns of the warships opened fire, and prepared the way for the advance. Again, however, our Allies were held up by concealed Turkish trenches; but they struggled on, and by the close of the day, at the cost of many lives, pushed across the river. During the night they held their ground, in spite of a strong counter-attack. Next day the warships shelled the Turkish right, and we carried the front Turkish trenches, but could go no farther. On the right the French advanced, but, caught by shrapnel, wavered and fled. The lost ground, however, was recovered. So the fight went on, every inch being bought at a heavy price. At the close of the three days' struggle we had won a thousand yards, but had not touched the enemy's main position, which was terribly strong. We now knew that it could not be rushed.
While these battles were going on, the Anzacs were slowly gaining ground at Gaba Tepe. On the night of 18th May fresh bodies of Turks were flung against their trenches; but the cool and steady shooting of the men from "down under" kept them at bay. On that red day the Turks lost some 7,000 men, while the Australians lost but 500. The Turkish trenches were in some places less than two hundred yards away from those of the Anzacs, and the ground between was carpeted with dead. You will read on a later page how Lance-Corporal Jacka won the Victoria Cross by capturing a trench single-handed.
The third great attempt upon Krithia and Achi Baba was made on 4th June; but though our men fought like heroes, and the East Lancashire Territorial Division on the right centre made a splendid advance, we only gained some five hundred yards on a front of three miles. After five weeks' desperate struggle we had not touched the outer Turkish position. The German engineers had made it almost as formidable as the Labyrinth in Artois. It was clear that without large reinforcements we could make no headway. Already we had lost 38,636 men—more than the whole casualty list for three years of the South African War.
The British and French fleets had taken part in every attack, and so far had been almost unmolested. Now German submarines began to appear; but before they got to work a Turkish destroyer managed to sink the old British battleshipGoliathby means of a torpedo. On 26th May a German submarine launched a torpedo which tore through the nets of theTriumph, and sank her in nine minutes. Next day theMajestic, when steaming close to the shore, was sunk in the same manner. It was now evident that our ships could no longer take part in the bombardment and escape the submarines, so most of them were sent home, and the Allied naval strength was reduced to a few of the older battleships and cruisers, together with destroyers and one of the monitors which had checked the shoreward march of the Germans on the Flemish coast. Other new monitors arrived later, and, being submarine-proof, were able to do excellent work.
By midsummer we knew, more than ever, how necessary it was that a right of way should be forced through the Dardanelles. We shall learn in a later chapter that the Russians had been forced back, and were terribly hard pressed. Without an open sea-road by which they could be supplied with munitions, it seemed likely that they would be put out of action for months to come, and that the Germans would be able to spare large bodies of troops to reinforce the Western front. We therefore determined to push on in the peninsula with renewed vigour. Reinforcements had now been landed, and it was necessary that we should strike, and strike hard at once.
During the first fortnight of June the enemy made many attempts to thrust us from the positions which we had won, and during the fighting many notable deeds of heroism were done by our men. A very determined attack by the Turks on 18th June carried some of our trenches; but they were won back by a brilliant charge of the 5th Royal Scots and a company of the 4th Worcesters. You will remember that the 5th Royal Scots had already distinguished themselves on 1st May. They formed part of what Sir Ian Hamilton calls "the incomparable 29th Division."
On 21st June we began the work of straightening out our line, which then formed an awkward salient in the centre. After a heavy bombardment the French infantry rushed two lines of Turkish trenches. Most desperate fighting followed, in which every gun that could be brought to bear was turned on the enemy. Six hundred yards were won, and the whole Allied right wing was well beyond the little river already mentioned. Though many of the French were little more than boys, they fought with the utmost dash and contempt of death.
The right wing having advanced, an attempt was now made to bring up the left. The movement began on the morning of 28th June with a fierce bombardment. When it ceased at 10.45 our infantry leaped forward, and within half an hour had won three lines of trenches between a ravine and the sea. East of the ravine the 7th Royal Scots made good progress, but the right met with a heavy fire, and could gain but little ground. A second attack which began at 11.30 was magnificently made. The men dashed forward without wavering, and before long our left wing was less than a mile west of Krithia. The whole of the ravine, which was littered with dead, rifles, bayonets, boxes of ammunition, soldiers' packs, firewood, etc., was in our hands. Much booty and about 200 prisoners were taken, and our losses were not more than 1,750.
On the last day of June there was fighting all round the peninsula. In the Anzac territory, about midnight, Enver Pasha came specially from Constantinople to see his army drive the Australians and New Zealanders into the sea. Heavy firing began, to which the Anzacs replied with cheers. At 1.30 in the morning a strong column of Turks advanced, but it was broken to atoms by the rifles and machine guns of the 7th and 8th Light Horse. Other attacks melted away before the swift and deadly fire of the defenders, and Enver Pasha returned to Constantinople a disappointed man.
Early on the morning of the same day the French had a success. They carried by storm a network of trenches at the head of the river along which they had been fighting so long, and held on to the ground which they had won. Sir Ian Hamilton thought that the Turkish losses during the five days following 28th June were over 20,000; yet all this sacrifice had availed them nothing.
The July fighting was of the same nature as that of June. On 4th July an enemy warship fired on the Australian lines, and aeroplanes tried to drop bombs on our trenches. This was followed by an infantry attack which was successful at first, but, later on, the Turks were forced to retire with great loss. We were now up against the main strength of the Achi Baba fortress, and on 12th July we made a resolute attempt to capture it.
The bombardment began at dawn, and the first attack was made by the French and the Scottish Lowland Division on the right and right centre. The Scots reached the third line of Turkish trenches, but they lost touch with the French on their right and could not hold their gains. Another and even fiercer cannonade began at four in the afternoon, and the Scots, surging forward against a great Turkish redoubt overlooking a ravine, carried it at the point of the bayonet. By dusk some 400 yards of ground had been gained. Through the night the Turks came on again and again with bombs, and the wearied Scots were obliged to give up two lines of trenches. Next day these positions were recaptured, and there we stuck. We had reached the limit of our advance from the south. We were very near to Krithia, but the heights of Achi Baba were as far off as ever.
The following officers and men won the Victoria Cross during the May, June, and July fighting.
Lance-Corporal Albert Jacka, 14th Battalion Australian Imperial forces.
A private of Lance-Corporal Jacka's regiment thus describes the deed which won his chum the V.C.: "There were four Bendigo boys, all mates, in the 14th, and Bert Jacka and I were two of them. The 14th wasstationed at Courtney's Post, which shared with Quinn's Post[49]and Pope's Hill all the worst of the fighting during the month of May. On the night of 18th May and the morning of the next day the Turks tried to drive us into the sea, and left eight acres of dead between Quinn's and Courtney's. In the middle of the scrap a wounded man crawled to our trench, and said the Turks had rushed a communication trench, and there was only one man keeping them back. There was a call for volunteers, and I was one of them. When we got near we saw Bert guarding the end of the trench with his bayonet. He looked like a mad thing. When he saw us coming, he let out a roar like a bull and rushed into the trench. I made after him, but I received two bullets, one in the side and the other in the hand. Well, down I went, and before the others got into the trench Bert had done it on his own. Five shot and two killed with the bayonet! He came to see me that night in the dug-out, and I said to him, 'Well, Bert, you've done a big thing;' all he replied was, 'I think I lost my head.'" For this most gallant deed Jacka received not only the coveted cross, but a sum of £500 and a gold medal promised by Mr. John Wren of Melbourne to the first Australian who should win the great distinction.
Second Lieutenant George Dallas Moor, 3rd Battalion Hampshire Regiment.
This young officer was not nineteen when by his splendid bravery and presence of mind he saved a dangerous situation. On 5th June a detachment of a battalion on his left which had lost all its officers was rapidly retiring before a heavy Turkish attack. Second Lieutenant Moor grasped the peril in which the rest of the line was thus placed, and, racing back for some two hundred yards, he stemmed the rout, led back the leaderless, and at their head recaptured the lost trench. In September 1914 he was a schoolboy at Cheltenham; nine months later he had proved himself a born leader of men, and had won the proudest badge of honour that a soldier can wear.
Second Lieutenant Herbert James, 4th Battalion Worcestershire Regiment.
Two fine deeds of outstanding valour stand to the credit of Lieutenant James. On 28th June he rallied a retiring party belonging to a neighbouring unit and led it forward under heavy shell and rifle fire. He then returned, gathered together another party, and once more advanced, thus putting new life into the attack. On 3rd July he headed a party of bomb throwers who pushed up a Turkish communication trench, and after nearly all of his comrades had been killed or wounded, remained alone at the head of the trench, exposed to a murderous fire, but beating back the enemy single-handed till a barrier had been built behind him and the trench secured. Lieutenant James was a Birmingham man, who enlisted in the 21st Lancers in 1908. He was of a studious disposition and had won several prizes for languages. On the outbreak of war he was granted a commission and joined the famous Worcestershires.
Captain Gerald O'Sullivan, 1st Battalion Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
This gallant Irishman threw himself into the breach to the south-west of Krithia during a critical moment on the night of the 1st-2nd July. He volunteered to lead a party of bomb throwers against a British trench which the Turks had captured. Advancing in the open under very heavy fire, he climbed on to the parapet and hurled his bombs into the crowd of men below. Of course, he was wounded, but not before his example had inspired his men to such efforts that they recaptured the lost trench. Strange to say, the day after his honour was announced he was reported missing.
Sergeant James Somers, 1st Battalion Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers.
On the same night that Captain O'Sullivan so distinguished himself, Sergeant Somers of the same regiment pushed into an enemy trench and bombed the Turks with great effect. Later on he advanced into the open, under heavy fire, and held back the enemy by throwing bombs until a barricade had been erected. Frequently, he ran back to his own trench for a fresh supply of bombs. Thanks to his gallantry and coolness the lost portion of a British trench was recovered. On his return to his native village the people of North Tipperary gave him a great reception, and presented him with an illuminated address and war stock to the value of £240.