Most of his regiments were either Australian Light Horse or New Zealand Mounted Rifles, trained to fight a fast-moving mounted infantry battle with rifle and bayonet. The majority had lived healthy outdoor lives and they were physically more impressive than the average British infantry recruit, who had often grown up in the deprived conditions of an industrial landscape. Natural hard riders and good shots, they were mounted on big, sturdy horses known as walers, specially bred for stamina and strength in their own hot climate. Many of the men were veterans of Gallipoli or the Boer War. Their discipline, while effective, was informal. Save on the most ceremonial of parades, troop leaders and their soldiers tended to use each others’ Christian names; for a junior officer to a address a man by his unadorned surname was regarded as insulting, although it was quite in order for him to prefix this with his rank if he was dressing him down. One characteristic common to both Australians and New Zealanders was a tremendous sense of comradeship. In action, they would take enormous risks to maintain an unwritten law that no man, wounded or not, should be allowed to fall alive into Turkish hands. Off duty, too, their comrades came first. When, on Good Friday 1915, one of their number was rolled in the Haret el Wasser, Cairo’s red light district, whole units turned out to take revenge, leaving the area all but laid waste. Their free and easy attitude could outrage British regular officers, mainly those on the Staff, but at the highest levels their worth was recognised and it was regarded as a privilege to have them under command.3
Also present were British yeomanry regiments, recruited on a county basis from men who, in general, also lived an outdoor life and took part in the field sports of hunting and shooting. Although armed with the sword and trained for shock action, they were more flexible in their outlook than their regular cavalry counterparts and could also perform the mounted infantry role. Indeed, in the immediate prewar years some yeomanry regiments had experimented with the concept of mechanised firepower by mounting machine guns on members’ touring cars, and one at least of the richer regiments had privately acquired a purpose-built armoured car or two. All contained a number of officers and men who had seen active service during the Boer War and some regiments had already seen mounted action against the Senussi in the Western Desert.
Chauvel’s cavalry divisions each consisted of three mounted brigades each containing three regiments, a mounted machine gun squadron with twelve guns, and a Territorial Royal Horse Artillery battery of three troops each equipped with four 13-pounder guns. For specific missions a light car patrol, equipped with Model T Fords mounting a Lewis light machine gun, or a light armoured motor battery (LAMB) with Rolls Royce armoured cars, might be attached.
Another formation which operated under Chauvel’s command was the Camel Corps. This had a strength of 60 officers and 1,600 other ranks and was recruited mainly but by no means exclusively from the Australian Light Horse. It consisted of ten rifle companies, each of which possessed five Lewis guns, a machine gun company with eight Vickers-Maxims, and an artillery battery with six 9-pounder pack howitzers. The Camel Corps had already seen action in the Western Desert and during the advance across Sinai, its pace being slower than that of the cavalry divisions on the desert flank, it usually filled the gap between them and the marching infantry on the coast.
By the spring of 1917 Murray had cleared the Turks from Sinai, having inflicted a sharp defeat on them at Romani the previous August, taken El Arish in December and eliminated the garrison of Magruntein, their sole remaining post on Egyptian soil, in January. At this period he was the only British commander who was sending home a continuous flow of satisfactory news and there was no apparent reason why this should not continue.
The first objective of Murray’s invasion of Palestine was the town of Gaza. Ostensibly this did not present a serious obstacle since it was held by a mere 3,500 men with twenty guns and the garrison, relying on the huge and almost impenetrable cactus hedges separating the fig and olive orchards surrounding the town, had done little to fortify it. The attack, involving a frontal assault by two infantry divisions while the ANZAC Mounted Division came in from the east to secure the dominant Ali el Muntar ridge, was delivered on 26 March. The Turks, as always stubborn in defence and eager to close with the bayonet in counter-attacks, fought hard but by 18:00 their German commander, Major Tiller, having no more reserves to commit to his shrinking perimeter, despatched a radio message to his immediate superior, General Kress von Kressenstein, informing him that the situation had become desperate and that if his position came under further pressure he would be obliged to negotiate a surrender.
At that precise moment the dumbfounded British, Australians and New Zealanders were being forced to comply with specific orders to abandon all the gains they had made throughout the day and withdraw. The orders originated in the joint headquarters established by Lieutenant-Generals Sir Charles Dobell and Sir Philip Chetwode, responsible for coordinating the attack, at Ein Seiret, some fifteen miles behind the lines. There, without any knowledge of what was taking place in the town, they decided that if it had not fallen by sunset the troops should disengage rather than risk being caught between the garrison and the reinforcements that Kressenstein was known to be rushing forward. There were, too, quite groundless fears that there was insufficient water present for the ANZAC Mounted Division’s horses. Needless to say, the Turks, now substantially reinforced and jubilant at having apparently beaten off the British assault, counter-attacked the following day, recovering still more ground.
The blame was not Murray’s, but the responsibility was his. Understandably reluctant to report a failure after his long run of success, he compounded his difficulties by reporting that the operation ‘just fell short of a complete disaster to the enemy.’ Such a half-truth could not conceal forever the fact that he had been repulsed, nor that his 5,000 casualties were almost double those of the Turks. The War Cabinet, however, was prepared to back him and, having received further reports that the Turks were constructing defences in depth at Gaza, digging redoubts along the Beersheba road and fortifying Beersheba itself, hastily sent out a small detachment of obsolete tanks in the hope that these would prevent the new line lapsing into the stalemate of positional warfare.
Now that his ability to manoeuvre had been restricted, Murray could only plan a renewed assault on Gaza, using three infantry divisions. When the tanks arrived, each of the divisional commanders demanded them and Dobell, the corps commander, parcelled them out in twos and threes, ignoring the advice of the detachment’s commanding officer, who emphasised in vain the Tank Corps’ doctrine that the best result would be obtained if the tanks fought together.
The Second Battle of Gaza began on 17 April, lasted for three days and ended in an even bloodier reverse than the previous month’s. British losses amounted to a total of 6,624 killed, wounded or missing and half the tanks destroyed or abandoned; Turkish casualties came to 402 killed, 1,364 wounded and 245 missing. Murray dismissed Dobell but was himself relieved on 11 June.
His replacement was General Sir Edmund Allenby, a former Inspector General of Cavalry who had commanded the Cavalry Corps at the First Battle of Ypres and, more recently, the Third Army during the Battle of Arras. Big and bluff, he would bellow with rage when annoyed and was referred to as The Bull. He recognised from the outset that, the recent problems with some officers in the intermediate level of command apart, he had inherited an efficient army and logistic system from Murray. He was, however, concerned by the effects that the two reverses at Gaza were having on morale and one of his first acts was to move his General Headquarters from Cairo, where staff officers worked under slowly turning fans with cool drinks within reach, to a more gritty, spartan location at Rafah, just behind the lines. Here he felt that he could exercise an efficient forward control and at the same time become a familiar figure to the troops. For the same reasons he would personally visit even the most junior formation before an operation and brief its officers on exactly what was required of them.
Al
lenby’s relationship with his political masters was interesting. At this period the War Cabinet was sharply divided into Westerners and Easterners. The former applied the conventional military logic that victory could only be achieved by defeating the main mass of the enemy, and since that meant the German armies holding the Western Front that was where the Allies must concentrate their own efforts. The Easterners, on the other hand, took a more indirect view. They believed that if Turkey, the weakest member of the Central Powers’ alliance, could be knocked out of the war, the others would fall in succession – first Bulgaria, then Austria-Hungary and finally Germany herself. Lloyd George, the Prime Minister, was an avowed Easterner and when Allenby had been appointed to his new command he had told him that he wanted Jerusalem as a Christmas present for the British nation. To that end he had provided reinforcements from the Aden garrison and the static Salonika front, as well as more modern vehicles for the Gaza Tank Detachment. Allenby therefore now possessed an army containing three corps – XX Corps with four infantry divisions, XXI Corps with three infantry divisions, and the newly-promoted Lieutenant-General Chauvel’s Desert Mounted Corps, consisting of the Australian Mounted Division, the ANZAC Mounted Division, the Yeomanry Division and the Camel Corps.
Before the capture of Jerusalem could even be contemplated, however, it would be necessary to break the deadlock along the Gaza-Beersheba Line. Allenby, reluctant to launch further frontal attacks on the formidable Gaza defences, willingly accepted a suggestion put to him by Chetwode, now commanding XX Corps, that the line could be turned by the capture of Beersheba, after which it could be rolled up from the east. The entire plan hinged on water, firstly because the country to the south of the town was completely arid, and secondly because the wells in Beersheba itself would have to be captured before the Turks could destroy them if further operations on this flank were to be contemplated. In this context only Chauvel’s Desert Mounted Corps possessed the speed and punch required to seize Beersheba by coup de main before the Turkish demolition teams could get to work. At best the scheme was a gamble, but in war the risk factor can rarely be eliminated and boldness often brings its own reward.
Much detailed preparation had to be done before the plan could be activated. It was calculated that during the approach march Chauvel’s troopers and their mounts would consume 400,000 gallons a day, and that even then the latter would probably go thirsty. To satisfy this the Trans-Sinai railway and pipeline were extended in the direction of Beersheba. Despite this, Chauvel would be operating in virtually roadless country some twenty or more miles beyond the railhead and to keep him supplied all of the army’s 30,000 baggage camels would be required during the operation itself, even if it meant temporarily stripping the infantry divisions closer to the coast of their animal transport.
It was also essential that Turkish attention should be diverted away from Beersheba by means of a deception plan that clearly indicated Gaza as being the British primary objective. Hints were dropped in quarters known to be sympathetic to the Turks that an amphibious landing was to be made north of the town, and in due course warships appeared, pointedly taking soundings off the coast. Patrol activity was intensified and apparent preparations for a renewed offensive on the Gaza sector were left improperly camouflaged and duly noted by the Turks. A notable success in the art of deception was obtained by Captain Richard Meinertzhagen of Allenby’s intelligence staff. At considerable personal risk to himself, Meinertzhagen pretended to be engaged in a mounted reconnaissance into no-man’s-land, knowing that he would become a target for snipers. Pretending to be hit, he dropped a satchel recently smeared with animal blood and returned to his own lines, giving all the appearance of having been seriously wounded. When the Turks retrieved the satchel they found it contained marked maps and other papers containing details of a projected attack on Gaza, which they accepted at face value.4
In its final form Allenby’s plan for the coming offensive required Chauvel’s Desert Mounted Corps, less the Yeomanry Division, to capture Beersheba before its wells could be destroyed, then exploit to the north; in the centre Chetwode’s XX Corps, reinforced with the Yeomanry Division, would mount a series of holding attacks between Beersheba and Gaza, then advance in a north-westerly direction across the Turkish rear once Beersheba had fallen; and on the coast Major-General E. S. Bulfin’s XXI Corps would mount a major diversionary attack on Gaza after a heavy preliminary bombardment by artillery and Allied warships. Allenby was anxious that his men should be at the peak of their fighting abilities and for this reason decided to defer the offensive until the last days of October, in the interval between the hot weather and the onset of the winter rains.
Across the lines, a number of developments had also taken place. The collapse of Imperial Russia in the spring had meant that the Turks were able to transfer troops from the now defunct Caucasus Front to the Middle East and had formed a reserve of two army corps based on Aleppo. The problem was that no agreement could be reached as to whether it could be used to best effect in southern Palestine or to recapture Baghdad. While the Turkish High Command squabbled among themselves and with their German advisers time ticked away. When, in September, General Erich von Falkenhayn, the former Chief of German General Staff now seconded to the Turkish Army, decided that Palestine held priority, it was too late to effect so major a redeployment before Allenby struck.
Nevertheless, the Palestine Front had benefited from the Russian collapse to some extent. The Gaza-Beersheba Line was now held by two armies, Kressenstein’s Eighth with five divisions in the line and two in reserve covering the sector from Gaza to the Wadi el Sheria, and Fawzi Pasha’s Seventh with two regiments holding the line from the Wadi eastwards towards Beersheba, in and around which two divisions had been concentrated. In strategic reserve was a further division, positioned some 25 miles north of Gaza. From this it can be seen that the Turkish centre of gravity was heavily inclined towards Gaza, just as Allenby had hoped. In total, the Turkish deployment included approximately 45,000 infantry, 1,500 cavalry and 300 guns. However, since the successes of the spring the Turks’ morale had deteriorated, partly because of idleness and neglect, partly because of bad and insufficient rations, and partly because of raging epidemics which at any one time kept 25 per cent of their strength in hospital.
For his part, Allenby could deploy 75,000 infantry, 17,000 cavalry and 475 guns and a small tank detachment. This advantage was not, as has sometimes been suggested, sufficient in itself to guarantee a decisive victory. The infantry, for example, lacked the three-to-one superiority generally considered necessary for an assault on a prepared position. The preponderance of mounted troops would only become effective if the Beersheba wells could be captured intact; if they could not, the Desert Mounted Corps would find itself in some difficulty. Gun for gun, the British artillery’s strength was not overwhelming, although on the coastal sector it would be supplemented by naval gunfire. The risk element, therefore, remained high.
The bombardment of Gaza began on 27 October, increasing in intensity day by day. In the meantime, the Desert Mounted Corps had been moving its units slowly but steadily eastwards so that when the time came only one night march would required to place it in position to assault Beersheba. At this period the enemy was gradually losing his air superiority, although those of his aircraft that did manage to penetrate British air space could hardly fail to notice the huge concentration of cavalry and baggage animals lying behind Allenby’s right-centre, which also presented an extremely inviting target; three bombs dropped by one aircraft alone killed 40 camels and three horses and caused twenty personnel casualties. The Turkish cavalry, too, became inquisitive and displayed unusual aggression when, on 27 October, it attacked an outpost held by a detachment of the London Yeomanry. The yeomen beat off two dismounted assaults but were finally overrun by a mounted charge, only three of them surviving. The Turks were then driven off by the arrival of a larger force of British infantry. Nevertheless, despite all the indications, they remained conv
inced that British movements in the direction of Beersheba were simply a feint intended to draw their own reserves away from Gaza. Two days later they still believed that there were six British divisions massed in front of Gaza, but only two, including one mounted, opposite Beersheba.
Chauvel’s regiments began moving east after dusk on 30 October. Those whose task was to isolate Beersheba from the east and north left first, having to cover some 30 miles before dawn. Three days’ rations were carried and each trooper had two nose-bags of grain slung across his saddle, each containing a day’s forage, a third day’s being carried in the regimental wagons.
At 05:55 on 31 October XX Corps’ artillery went into action west of Beersheba, bombarding a Turkish outpost on Hill 1070. By 08:30 this had fallen to an infantry assault and the guns were moving forward to bring the Turkish main line under fire. At 12:15 elements of the 60th and 74th Divisions launched successful attacks and by 13:30 were in possession of all their objectives, having captured three miles of trenches, taking 500 prisoners and six guns. The cost had been almost 1,200 casualties but by the standards of the Western Front the achievement was remarkable, the more so since artillery support in Palestine was approximately one gun for every 50 yards of front, one fifth of that available in France and Flanders.
The encirclement of the town to the east and north had already been completed by the ANZAC Mounted Division. The dominant features of the enemy’s defences on the eastern sector were two mounds, Tel es Sakaty and Tel es Saba, rising steeply from the plain. The former fell to a dashing attack by the 2nd Light Horse Brigade (5th Queensland, 6th and 7th New South Wales Light Horse) who broke out of the wadi in which they were concealed and advanced at a gallop across the plain in open order. So unexpected was their appearance and so fast their pace that the Turkish artillery and machine guns inflicted comparatively few casualties. Riding into a hollow close to the Hebron road they dismounted, re-formed and advanced on foot towards the objective, now only 1,500 yards distant. Employing the techniques of fire and movement, they closed in on the tel by means of short rushes and by 13:00 had cleared the feature at the point of the bayonet and secured a number of neighbouring wells.
Impossible Victories Page 20