by Peter Hart
The true situation was now clear to the Turks. While the Australians’ position looked weak, vulnerable to just one mighty effort to throw them into the sea, in fact it had several inherent strengths that were not immediately obvious. It was almost impossible to cross a No Man’s Land defended by alert infantry armed with bolt-action rifles and machine guns, with artillery support, unless an artillery barrage had already suppressed their ability to open fire at the crucial moment. This was a universal truth of the Great War that the Allies had discovered often enough on the Peninsula; now the Turks, too, learnt that lesson.
The line which they held was a bent line with indentations and salients which defended each other by flanking fire. Besides the front firing line there were trenches, suitable for giving support fire, close behind this line. Immediately behind this second line it was very suitable for positioning the enemy reserve in safety. It was a perfect defensive position with ammunition and bomb dumps; arms, especially machine guns; perfect and completely adequate manpower; with naval aid immediately to the rear.21
Lieutenant Colonel Mehmet Sefik, Headquarters, 27th Regiment, 9th Division, Fifth Army
The Turks would never again try a general attack; instead, they would concentrate on more localised assaults intended to improve their tactical position.
Meanwhile, one Australian had also learnt a lesson from the fighting on the morning of 19 May. Lance Corporal William Beech was not a man to let inspiration fade and he at once set to work to design and construct a viable periscope rifle. When Major Blamey, a staff officer of 1st Division, was touring the trenches a few hours later he found Beech grimly struggling with assorted bits of wood, glass and wire trying to adapt a rifle so that the upper periscope mirror looked straight along the rifle sights, which view was then reflected in the lower mirror to allow the rifleman to take aim while staying safely under cover. Blamey recognised the brilliant simplicity of the idea and within a few days Beech was supervising a veritable factory churning out periscope rifles. Over the coming months these rifles would allow the Anzacs to establish a superiority of fire which made it death for a Turk to look over the parapet. The Turks would not get their own periscope rifles until late August.
One after effect of the failed Turkish attack was soon evident to everyone at Anzac. The piles of dead bodies sprawled in their thousands where they fell soon made it unbearable for the living as the blazing sun unlocked their putrid secrets and spread the stench of death all over the area. In the end, after a period of negotiations in which neither side wished to betray any weakness, an armistice was arranged to clear No Man’s Land of its grim harvest. The arrangements were complex, as neither side could take risks of treachery or subterfuge. A line was marked out with wooden sticks and white rags, along the middle of No Man’s Land. On one side the Turks would bury the dead; on the other the Anzacs would be responsible. At 07.30 on 24 May the fifty-strong delimiting parties from each side crossed the wire and moved into No Man’s Land. They spread out the whole length of the line, one man from each side about every 100 yards. Every Anzac was provided with two packets of cigarettes, one to smoke and one for the nearest Turk. Lieutenant Colonel Percy Fenwick, a senior New Zealand medical officer, was appointed as delimiting officer during the armistice.
The Turkish dead lay so thick that it was almost impossible to pass without treading on their bodies. The stench was awful. The Turkish doctor gave me some pieces of wool on which he poured some scent and asked me to put them into my nostrils. I was glad to do so. The awful destructive power of high explosives was very evident. Huge holes, surrounded with circles of corpses blown to pieces, were scattered about the area over which we walked. Everywhere lay the dead – swollen, black and hideous – and over all a nauseating stench that made one feel desperately sick. As we moved along the plateau the trenches became closer and closer together. In one place I calculated the distance between the Turks and ours was only 17 feet. I made this calculation from the fact that four Turks lay head to heel; the front Turk had his hand actually on the side of our trench; the back one had his feet touching his own trench. He had been killed as he leapt over the trench wall.22
Lieutenant Colonel Percy Fenwick, Headquarters, NZ&A Division, NZEF
Up on Pope’s Hill, Brigadier General John Monash was watching the scene with Major General Alexander Godley. The politeness with which the truce was observed was almost surreal.
We noticed a Turk about 100 yards away trying to repair a loophole in a Turkish trench. We signed to a Turkish officer pointing to it, and he at once understood and ran over to the man and gave him a sound belting with a stick. He then returned to us and still in sign language, with a polite salute, expressed his regrets at the stupidity of the soldier, and then very politely intimated that he would esteem it a favour if we refrained from using our field glasses, because, of course, doing so would give us an unfair advantage.23
Brigadier General John Monash, Headquarters, 4th Australian Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF
And, as ever, the individual soldiers found it all but impossible not to identify with the Turks they encountered. They may have been their enemies, but if anyone understood the privations and horrors of Anzac then it was their opposite numbers, trapped on the same small battlefield.
We stood together some 12 feet apart, quite friendly, exchanging coins and other articles, and in some cases were able to communicate. A Turk gave me a beautiful Sultan’s guard’s belt buckle made of brass with a silver star and crescent embossed with the Sultan’s scroll in Arabic. All I had to give him in exchange were a few coins. Our troops carried the dead Turkish bodies over the dividing line and the Turkish troops did the same for our dead. We also handed their rifles back to them. These rifles were lying around the ground, but we first removed their bolts. The armistice lasted until approximately 6 p.m. and almost immediately the Turks opened fire on our parapets. We were once again enemies.24
Corporal Charles Livingstone, 6th (New South Wales) Light Horse, 2nd Light Horse Brigade, AIF
THE SITUATION AT ANZAC may have been static, but elsewhere the war was changing. The ANZAC Corps presence was underpinned by the Royal Navy. The warships’ guns protected the soldiers, but even more important the navy maintained the supply chain that stretched right back to Blighty. Any break in the integrity of that chain was a mortal threat to Anzac. What the men most dreaded was the arrival of German submarines in the eastern Mediterranean. It was not long before they were facing exactly that. The U-21, under the command of Captain Otto von Hersing, had set off from Germany on 25 April and reports of her progress had been tracked by the Admiralty with considerable trepidation. When it became evident that her arrival off Gallipoli could shortly be expected a series of anti-submarine precautions was introduced.
A first step was to expedite the return home of the Queen Elizabeth, but measures were also taken to keep the pre-dreadnoughts safe as far away as possible while they carried out their support bombardments. At a stroke the number of pre-dreadnoughts on station off Anzac was reduced to just one, but they were still trusting to the efficacy of the torpedo nets that were hung out from their long booms. In addition, all watertight doors below decks were closed tight and anyone not actually on watch below decks was kept on the upper deck in an effort to try to reduce casualties should the torpedoes strike home.
Meanwhile, the U-21 had reached Helles on 25 May. Her early attacks had been thwarted by a combination of alert destroyers and the adroit evasive manoeuvring of the battleship Vengeance. Now von Hersing moved off Anzac Cove looking for easier prey. He arrived just after noon and immediately began stalking the Triumph, coolly evading the accompanying destroyer Chelmer.
We dived to seventy feet and headed toward the monster, passing far below the lines of patrol craft. Their propellers, as they ran above us, sounded a steady hum. For four and a half hours after I caught sight of the ship I manoeuvred the U-21 for a torpedo shot, moving here and there and showing the periscope on the smooth surface of the sea
for only the briefest moments. In the conning tower my watch officer and I stood with bated breath. We were groping toward a deadly position – deadly for the magnificent giant of war on the surface above. ‘Out periscope!’ HMS Triumph stood in formidable majesty, broadside to us, and only 300 yards away. ‘Torpedo – fire!’ My heart gave a great leap as I called the command. And now one of those fearfully still, eventless moments. Suspense and eagerness held me in an iron grip. Heedless of all else, I left the periscope out. There! And I saw the telltale streak of white foam darting through the water. It headed swiftly away from the point where we lay, and headed straight – yes, straight and true.25
Captain Otto von Hersing, U-21
Corporal Fred Brookes was in charge of the two starboard 14-pounder guns in the waist of the ship. At about 12.30 a periscope was sighted.
I gave the order to fire to my two guns but the shells dropped over. I reduced the range but before I could fire the second salvo a torpedo was speeding towards us. My foremost gun tried to depress and hit the torpedo in a forlorn effort. The torpedo struck the ship just below my foremost gun. The explosion shook the ship and she heeled to starboard and then she righted herself before heeling again to starboard and turning turtle in 12 minutes. The explosion blew off all the bunker lids and covered everyone on the starboard side in coal dust. The water cast up by the explosion came down in torrents and I hung on to a stanchion to prevent myself being washed over the side. When it subsided I missed the Private whose duty was beside me and I surmised that he had been washed overboard. I had often rehearsed in my mind what route I should take under such circumstances. The subconscious voice was saying, ‘Over to the fore-and-after bridge, along the bridge and on to the after shelter deck, out on the after torpedo boom and drop into the “ditch”.’ As the voice directed so I took that route and dropped into the sea and swam clear of the ship. I watched the ship heeling over and the torpedo booms on the port side rising up with the nets hanging down from them, and, caught in the meshes of the net by their fingers and toes, were men who had attempted to climb down them.26
Corporal Fred Brookes, Royal Marines, HMS Triumph
Trawlers and destroyers raced towards the Triumph to pick up the survivors who were bobbing about in the sea. The speed of their response meant that they only lost some seventy-three men. Meanwhile, Captain Otto von Hersing was trying to escape the scene.
A huge cloud of smoke leaped out of the sea. In the conning tower we heard first a dry, metallic concussion and then a terrible, reverberating explosion. It was a fascinating and appalling sight to see, and I yearned with every fibre to keep on watching the fearful picture; but I had already seen just about enough to cost us our lives. The moment that dread white wake of the torpedo was seen on the surface of the water, the destroyers were after me. They came rushing from every direction. ‘In periscope!’ And down we went. I could hear nothing but the sound of propellers above me, on the right and on the left. Why hadn’t I dived the moment after the torpedo left? The two seconds I had lost were like years now. With that swarm converging right over our heads, it surely seemed as if we were doomed. Then a flash crossed my brain. ‘Full speed ahead,’ I called, and ahead we went right along the course the torpedo had taken, straight toward the huge craft we had hit. It was foolhardy, I admit, but I had to risk it. Diving as deeply as we dared, we shot right under the sinking battleship. It might have come roaring down on our heads – the torpedo had hit so fair that I rather expected it would. And then the U-boat and its huge prey would have gone down together in an embrace of death. That crazy manoeuvre saved us. I could hear the propellers of destroyers whirring above us, but they were hurrying to the place where we had been.27
Captain Otto von Hersing, U-21
As a result of the sinking of the Triumph the reassurance of permanent battleship support had gone for good; now they would only appear on special occasions.
THE SUMMER SAW a steady series of refinements added to the defences at Anzac. As it became evident that the troops would be there for a while, makeshift expedients carried out in the first few days were gradually replaced by more permanent solutions to the problems. Tunnels replaced dashes across the open or enfiladed communication trenches and dugouts became ever more sophisticated. One of the best examples occurred at Quinn’s Post right at the sharp end of the whole position. Quinn’s Post had become a feared death trap. Overlooked from all sides, it was considered fatal to even peek over the top for fear of the Turkish snipers. Sapping by both sides had reduced No Man’s Land at some points to a few yards or a sandbag barricade. Bombs rained down, with only wire netting to stop them from landing in the trench alongside the long-suffering garrison. Sleep was almost impossible and in just a few days the defenders were haggard wrecks of men. That was the situation when the New Zealanders of the Wellington Battalion were assigned the defence of Quinn’s on 9 June. There could have been no better choice. Lieutenant Colonel William Malone was a soldier of the old school with a veritable mania for bringing order out of chaos.
There is an awful lot of work to do. Such a dirty, dilapidated, unorganised post. Still I like work and will revel in straightening things up. Quite a length of the trench unoccupiable, owing to bomb-throwing superiority of Turks. No places for men to fall in. The local reserve is posted too far away and yet there is at present no ground prepared on which they could be comfortably put. I selected a new headquarters shelter for myself, and gave orders that every rifle shot and bomb from the Turks was to be promptly returned at least twofold. We can and will beat them at their own game.28
Lieutenant Colonel William Malone, Wellington Battalion, New Zealand Brigade, NZ&A Division, NZEF
Working to a clear plan, with the inner steel to take his officers and men with him, Malone made a huge difference.
We soon got the upper hand of the Turk riflemen and bomb-throwers, and have completely changed the position. We have terraced the ground so that the troops in reserve are together instead of being dotted about in all sorts of holes. We have made roads to the top of the hill at the back so that we can counter-attack. Fire positions have been fixed for the supporting troops and in less than a minute we can sheet the hillcrest with lead from 200 rifles, the men being side by side in lines under their NCOs and officers. I got two machine guns mounted to sweep half of our front which before had to depend on some fifty rifles to stop the Turks who had only some 15 yards to cross to get from their trench to ours. Above all the men are inspired with the conviction that they have superiority over the Turks and are getting a fair run for their lives. We have so wrecked and racked the Turks’ trenches that they now have the ‘dread’ and have almost abandoned their front trenches opposite us. Improvements made every day, overhead cover erected over terraces, making them sun and shrapnel and bomb proof. Blankets nailed along west fronts keep out the glare and heat of the westerly sun and can be rolled up at night, out of the way. The post has become absolutely the best in the defence and the safest.29
Lieutenant Colonel William Malone, Wellington Battalion, New Zealand Brigade, NZ&A Division, NZEF
Malone was a partisan New Zealander who was not afraid of expressing his biased views on the nature of the Australian soldier.
There is no question but that the New Zealander is a long, long way the better soldier of the two. The Australian is a dashing chap, but he is not steadfast, and he will not or would not dig, work. He came here to kill Turks, not to dig, and consequently, we have suffered. There are lots of good men and good officers among them, but they are not disciplined or trained like our men. The New Zealander is a long way the better soldier, more steadfast, better disciplined and a worker. I don’t like the average Australian a bit, in fact I dislike him.30
Lieutenant Colonel William Malone, Wellington Battalion, New Zealand Brigade, NZ&A Division, NZEF
The efforts of the Wellingtons were mirrored up and down the tiny beachhead. Every innovation, every piece of hard graft made Anzac that much more secure and reduced the fl
ow of casualties to a trickle.
Meanwhile, another form of warfare had made its presence felt. In a compact battlefield where a small advance could make all the difference, the value of mining operations was understood by both sides. Here the ANZAC Corps had an advantage in that the men of the 1st Field Company Engineer had a great deal of practical know-how from their civilian experience as miners back in Australia. One such was Lieutenant Henry Bachtold, who was pushing out underground tunnels from Courtney’s Post.
It was the crudest bit of digging one could imagine but it was done to the best of our ability. First of all from the front line every 200 or 300 feet we ran an incline tunnel. Timber as far as I was concerned was unattainable; fortunately the ground was semi-rock. We had 8 hour shifts. I discovered that we got more progress done if we worked 6 hours and everybody came out for 2 hours and let the place cool down. Then after we had run these main tunnels perhaps 100 feet or thereabouts we connected them altogether. From that underground tunnel we probed forward then with various other kinds of tunnels. Of course the Turk was doing the same sort of thing but I decided on working with 16 foot of cover. Consequently, the Turks always were above me and as soon as they were getting too close I used to pop them off with a mine.31
Lieutenant Henry Bachtold, 1st Field Company Engineers, 1st Division, AIF
Such tunnels soon formed an underground maze that began to rival the complexity of the trenches on the surface. The Turks had a lot to learn as they lacked a mining industry from which to draw experienced engineers. Yet they too started mining and gradually an underground war developed, with both sides creating underground trench lines and listening posts to try to detect the exact location of their opposite numbers’ shafts. At times they were so close that they could hear each other digging. Then it was a race for the Anzacs to lay and detonate a tamped camouflet mine to direct the power of the explosion in order to smash up threatening Turkish galleries; on other occasions mines were carefully laid and preserved for use in a planned infantry operation.