This population had been outraged when the Ottoman government had re-established the 1876 constitution, since, by establishing a common citizenship, it had removed their ‘privileges’ and made them liable for conscription into the army. According to Skevos Zervos, this had been proclaimed in a telegram dated 27 July 1909, which:
[…] revoked the whole of the privileges of the Dodecanese, demanded the payment of new taxes, insisted upon the use of the Turkish language in the courts of judicature, at once imposed the obligation to serve in the Turkish armies, and endeavoured, in fine, to assimilate the islands in all respects to the other Ottoman provinces.15
The response to this was to be found in political protest and, amongst men of military age in particular, large-scale migration to Greece. There was then little disappointment amongst the majority of the population when the Italians landed and made prisoners or fugitives of the Ottoman officials and soldiers. Indeed, the Italians were welcomed as liberators throughout the islands and there was no shortage of those happy and willing to assist them. Right from the first days of the occupation Ameglio had made clear that Italy would not greatly interfere with the way of life of any of the inhabitants, provided they did not resist. On 5 May, the day the Italian forces entered Rhodes City, he had issued a decree addressed to the inhabitants stating this:
Inhabitants of the island of Rhodes! Italy, tied to you by the glorious memories and affinity of civilization, is forced by the events of the war to occupy your island. On the order of H M the King I assume the chief civil and military powers, declaring that Italy is at war with the Ottoman government and army, but considers the unarmed and peaceful population of Rhodes friendly and will ensure the utmost respect to your religious beliefs, your customs, and your traditions.16
That their former rulers were not going to be back in the near future became plain once the Ottoman forces had surrendered, not just on Rhodes but throughout the islands that Italy had captured. Whilst this process was still ongoing Ameglio issued another decree on 20 May, basically restating the Italian position as previously enunciated:
The people of Rhodes can be confident in the feelings of justice and fairness that are characteristic of the Italian Government. Do not be afraid, for respect for your religion, your families, and for your properties will be meticulously observed. Italy welcomes you under her protection, which always was and always will be a symbol of civilization and progress.17
The Muslim population in general, and those who were supporters of the Committee of Union and Progress in particular, were hostile to the occupation, but they were very much in the minority. On the other hand the Orthodox, or Greek, majority were well pleased to be rid of their Ottoman masters, seeing the Italian invasion as a means to an end. That end however was not one the Italians would necessarily subscribe to. Dr Skevos George Zervos described the assistance given to Ameglio at the Battle of Psinthos, and the reason why it was offered:
In this engagement the Rhodians preceded and guided the Italians, for whom they performed invaluable service […] risking their lives in the fighting line with dauntless bravery and the conviction that when they had driven out the Turks they would at last be free and united with Mother Greece.18
Zervos, who had been born on Kalymnos, was an eminent medical practitioner and ardent patriot in the cause of the Dodecanese; this name, from the Greek dodeca (twelve) and nesos (island), being what the Greek population called the islands under Italian occupation from now on. This section of the population already had a functioning civic society, and their leaders wasted no time in setting out their desires and expectations. On 17 June 1912 a meeting was held at the Monastery of St John the Divine on Patmos with the leaders and representatives from all the islands attending. There they convened ‘a General Assembly of the Dodecanese’ and under its auspices issued a declaration:
We hereby make known the steadfast determination of the Dodecanesian people to undergo any sacrifice rather than again fall beneath the horrible despotism of the Turks. We further proclaim the age-long national yearning of the Dodecanesians for union with their Mother Country, Greece.19
They also proclaimed the ‘Autonomous state of the Dodecanese’ sometimes referred to as the ‘Autonomous state of the Aegean Sea,’ even approving a design for a flag according to some sources; a proposal ‘strongly discountenanced by Italy.’20 Indeed, a little later Ameglio was to ban any manifestation of Greek irredentism on the grounds that it could disturb public order, and removed from office Savvas Pavlides, the elected Mayor of Rhodes, for attempting to stir up a rebellion against the Italian occupation. The new, appointed, mayor was Attilio Brizi, an Italian.21
At this time, as has been pointed out, the Italian government had only a practical interest in occupying the islands, inasmuch as they could be used as leverage to force the Ottoman government to terms. Even if this was problematical in the extreme, the archipelago being, as Bosworth described it, ‘ethnically Greek and economically valueless,’ there was no purpose beyond this other than their usefulness in helping to interdict the seaborne passage of ‘contraband of war’ to Cyrenaica.22
Unfortunately for the Italians, and as Rocca Rey had argued, the occupation of the islands had no immediate apparent effect on what the Italian government considered to be Ottoman intransigence, leaving Italy in an awkward position. The accuracy of Albert Legrand’s observation in November 1911 that the war was ‘a cruel embarrassment’ to Italian politicians was becoming ever more apparent.23 The problems were not all Italian, as the Ottoman government had troubles aplenty. To quote Childs on the matter: ‘the Ottoman Empire at the beginning of 1912 was in a state of turmoil and disarray, its government in an ever more precarious position […] further complicated by the endemic unrest in northern Albania.’24 The problems in Albania, though they had deep roots, were exacerbated by the same factors that had alienated the population that cleaved to the notion of the ‘Autonomous state of the Dodecanese.’ This led, in May 1912 to what the Austro-Hungarians termed the Malissorenaufstand – a Christian Albanian uprising.
These ongoing, and increasing, Ottoman problems in Albania would appear to have been one of the motivating factors behind a document dated 29 June 1912 and sent by Pollio to his chief, Spingardi. This ‘Memorandum Regarding our Political and Military Situation’ (Promemoria sulla nostra situazione politico-militare) contains an analysis of the ‘internal crisis’ of the Ottoman Empire with particular reference to the recent events in Albania, which Pollio saw as having ‘enormously worsened the politico-military situation of the enemy.’25 Now, he argued, was an excellent time to strike them hard because their collapse was probable in any case, and Italy could profitably exploit the opportunity. Demonstrating the degree to which Giolitti and San Giuliano kept the military and naval leadership in the dark as regards the international political situation, he also admitted that he was unaware of the situation as regards the other members of the Triple Alliance, or indeed Britain and France, and did not know the reasons behind the paralysis of ‘our action in the eastern Mediterranean.’ He also reasoned that if the Empire did not collapse, ‘through foreign gold or the support of the Powers,’ then the prolongation of the war would cause Italy ‘great damage’ and require an even greater effort in the future.
The methodology by which Italy could finally shatter the Ottoman Empire he saw as twofold; a landing of an Italian expeditionary force at Smyrna (Izmir) and the support of the Christian insurgents in the Balkans. Pollio suggested that an army of 100,000 men be landed, though raising, equipping, transporting and maintaining a force of this size would have been unworkable given the amount of effort being expended in North Africa. In any event, the proposal was politically impossible and both at the time, and later in his memoirs, Giolitti was dismissive. He wrote that such an attack would be engaging an enemy where its strength was greatest, and that ‘unfortunately there are very few who can remain immune to the particular excitement that accompanies war.’26
The navy leaders
hip, who might have baulked at having to mount an expedition such as proposed by Pollio, were however somewhat exercised at the incipient threat posed by the Ottoman ‘fleet in being’ sheltering in the Dardanelles. Rocca Rey had, it may be recalled, expressed his concerns before the operations to take the Dodecanese regarding the extra work Italian occupation would throw upon the Italian fleet. The need to maintain a force powerful enough to deal with any Ottoman sortie, unlikely as it was, and the necessity of escorting convoys in the area took their toll, not least in the admiral’s mind. He was to argue that, despite the ‘poor state’ of its ships and the similarly depressed morale of the crews, the Ottoman squadron ‘continued to pose a threat to our command of the sea.’ Furthermore it forced Italy ‘to keep defences on the islands and a vast number of ships at sea […] at large expense, putting great strain (forte logorio) on both personnel and material. We must put an end to this state of things.’27
There was only one way to achieve this and that was to sink or disable the offending ships, which had remained at anchor at Nagara Point (Nara Burnu, Abydos) some 30 kilometres north of the entrance and about 10 kilometres above the narrows at Çanakkale following the first attempt on them on 17-18 April. The Duke of Abruzzi’s command, the ‘Division of the Torpedo-Boat Inspector,’ would furnish the means, and his chief-of-staff, Captain Enrico Millo, would lead the enterprise. Millo was summoned to Rome to discuss the matter. The plan arrived at was relatively simple; five torpedo-boats were to enter the Dardanelles under cover of darkness and attempt to travel unseen over the distance to the Ottoman anchorage. Millo hand-picked the boats and their commanders; Spica, Perseus, Astore, Climene, and Centaur, commanded respectively by Umberto Bucci, Giuseppe Sirianni, Stanislao di Somma, Carlo Fenzi and Italo Moreno, all holding the rank of lieutenant (tenente di vascello). With Millo in tactical command aboard the Spica, the attack would not be closely supported and the boats would rely on going unnoticed. General support would be afforded by the Vettor Pisani and two destroyers, the Nembo and Borea, and the eight-vessel flotilla assembled at Stampalia before sailing on 14 July for Leros (Lero). Normally each boat was commanded by two officers but on this occasion each was given a third for the mission, and a pilot.
At Leros the torpedo-boats were prepared for the attack, with extraneous equipment being removed and camouflage paint applied, before sailing north to the Ottoman-ruled, but sparsely inhabited, island of Agios Efstratios (Saint Eustratius) near Lemnos on 17 July. From this position they were around 100 kilometres from the entrance to the strait, and on the afternoon of the next day Millo led his command, escorted by the three larger vessels, northwards towards the target. At 23:30 hours the flotilla split up, with the escort remaining out of sight whilst the torpedo-boats headed towards the strait.
According to Millo’s report of the action, ‘the weather was good and the sea calm, with only a light haze on the horizon.’ He also noted that the entrance to the Dardanelles was clearly identified by searchlights at Cape Helles and Kum Kale and that despite these the boats were able to enter unobserved a little after midnight. The flotilla was arranged in line ahead, with Spica leading them in the order Perseus, Astore, Climene, and lastly Centaur. They advanced at 12 knots at first, then increased to 15 as they passed through the entrance, keeping to the Asiatic side, in order to counteract the effects of the current. At around 00:40 hours the middle boat, Astore, was however fixed by one of the two searchlights at Cape Helles and followed for several minutes, during which time the alarm was raised and gunfire directed at the intruders. This fire was inaccurate, and despite being discovered Millo decided to continue the mission:
Since the defences appeared weak, I decided to continue the reconnaissance and advance further into the straits before deciding what to do depending on the circumstances. Speed was increased to 20 knots and the boats headed towards the European side to avoid the bombardment. Many other searchlights came into action, and from the illumination provided by that at Fort Suandare I was able to see that the squadron was in an orderly line ahead with the commanders bravely leading their units in precise formation despite the enemy fire.
Incredibly the boats managed to penetrate to within about ten kilometres of the anchorage without taking any serious hits before being forced to a halt off Çanakkale at the narrows, where the lead vessel fouled an underwater obstacle.
The Spica reached at great speed the promontory of Kilid-Bahr when it was suddenly halted. The abrupt manner of the stop, and the fouling of the two propellers, led us to believe that we had run into steel cables. The commander of the Spica immediately tried to manoeuvre us off the obstacle whilst the battery at Kilid-Bahr began a rapid fire.
Under such conditions, and after achieving the intended results of the reconnaissance, but with no chance to torpedo the enemy, and knowing that the torpedo boats under my command would be destroyed by enemy short-range fire […] I therefore considered any further advance an unnecessary sacrifice of men and torpedo boats. […] I then judged it my duty to stop the reconnaissance and retreat.
Lieutenant Bucci did manage to free his boat from the obstruction and the flotilla began the return journey at high speed. Remarkably, and despite being under fire the whole way, all the craft survived the journey more or less unscathed. Millo was to report that the total damage to his command was negligible with only Spica, Astore and Perseus suffering minor hits. The other two boats were not touched and there were no injuries whatsoever to any of the personnel that undertook the mission. It will be noted that Millo’s report referred to the mission as primarily a reconnaissance, and he had made clear to his superiors beforehand that if he adjudged the attack had no prospect of success then he would withdraw and call it just that. This was greeted with derision in certain quarters. For example, Captain Arthur Courtenay Stewart, the British Naval Attaché at Rome, was scathing, arguing that to claim the mission was a reconnaissance was ‘scarcely believable as everyone already knew precisely where the Turkish fleet was!’28
Whilst the enterprise was undoubtedly hazardous, and there can be little doubt that Millo made the correct decision to withdraw after becoming caught up on the defences, it was depicted in the Italian press, and government propaganda, as a stunning victory. Alfredo Frassati, the editor of the widely circulated Piedmontese daily La Stampa, published a piece in his paper on 21 July entitled ‘Five Italian torpedo-boats advance for 20 kilometres in the Dardanelles in strong Turkish crossfire.’ To Frassati the success of the mission restored the navy to glory and expunged the memories of the Battle of Lissa:
The recent fearful suspicions both moral and strategic of the value of our navy have disappeared: we breathe freely, free from all the care cultivated over the years of waiting defenceless […] Italy’s navy has entered into [parity with those of] the great powers: it can count its sailors among the best trained and the most fearless in the world.29
Captain Enrico Millo and the Dardanelles: a graphic that featured in L’illustrazione Italiana on 24 July 1912 following the mission by five torpedo-boats six days earlier. The story it illustrated was entitled ‘The Bold Action of our Torpedo-Boats in the Dardanelles’ and even though the mission to damage or sink the enemy ‘fleet in being’ was unsuccessful, it was nevertheless depicted in the Italian press, and in government propaganda, as a stunning victory. (Author’s Collection).
Giuseppe Bevione wrote a long account of the mission in the same paper four days later, entitling it ‘The Wonderful Adventure in the Dardanelles.’ He explained that because the Ottoman fleet refused to leave its base, the torpedo boats had set out to hunt them. These vessels, he told his readers, were almost without guns, were protected only with a ‘hint’ of steel armour, and for their protection relied on speed and audacity. His description of the escape is worth recounting:
The water boiled around the torpedo boats from stem to stern, and jets of water flew high as shells fell with horrible thuds, as if volcanic eruptions were flashing inexhaustibly beneath the water […] The
air was full of flashes, of flames, explosions, and splinters. Convulsive, foaming, full of glare and reflections, the sea seemed to become a huge fiery furnace. But at the zenith shone always the star of Italy.30
Such overblown rhetoric may perhaps be forgiven, or at least is understandable, coming from the same press that had done so much to bring about the conflict, and was now desperate for victories to proclaim. The politicians were also keen to talk up the affair, and Millo and his fellow officers were promoted and bemedalled. Some ten years later Giolitti was still claiming the event as a naval triumph, stating that ‘steel nets’ made an attack impossible and that ‘the retreat was conducted in perfect order, without any harm, and ensuring that the enemy did not dare to chase, although our torpedo boats were not protected by any larger ships.’31
The Ottoman response was muted because the raid coincided with a political upheaval when Sait Pasa had resigned on 17 July following the collapse of his cabinet. Indeed, and according to the British chargé d’affaires at Constantinople Charles M Marling, it was popularly believed that the whole affair was a sham engineered by the CUP. In a message of 23 July he opined that the ‘Young Turks’ would not have been averse to ‘arranging a scenic display on the Dardanelles and attempting, by the expenditure of a little gunpowder, to draw off public attention from the very tight corner in which [they] found [themselves].’32 The fact that there was political instability perhaps explains why, although the Ottoman Government improved the defences in the Dardanelles by narrowing the channels through the barricades and mine fields, they did not close the straits.
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