by Peter Hart
Brigadier-General Sir George MacMunn, Headquarters, MEF, Mudros
Even though the British had been there over seventy years before, everything had to be built from scratch. Over the length of the campaign the British and French succeeded in establishing a fully fledged Supply and Horse Transport Depot at Mudros, with all the attendant camps, hospitals and necessary infrastructure. A little further forward, at Imbros, was the Advanced Supply Depot, but there was still fifteen miles of open sea between there and the Peninsula. Once the U-boats had announced their unwelcome arrival in the Aegean there was no possibility of unloading directly from large ships off the beaches, so thousands of tons of stores had to be transhipped at night from Mudros or Lemnos by much smaller 500-ton steamers to V Beach, W Beach and Anzac Cove. It was only with great difficulty and much manpower that the foodstuffs, munitions and plethora of daily stores were unceremoniously deposited on these open beaches.
True there were piers constructed and eventually blockships put in place to try to protect the harbour areas. But these were never ports in any conventional sense. And the piers were ephemeral in the face of the raw power of the sea. There was certainly no safe harbour here in the event of a storm, while manmade destruction was always threatening from the Turkish shells that crashed down in random fashion. Despite this, at Helles huge supply depots were constructed. A teeming anthill of activity held stores and munitions to last the troops for at least a month in case the tenuous supply chain was broken, whether by U-boats, storms at sea, or by the destruction of the flimsy piers. Even when the stores arrived at the beaches they still had to be taken up in stages to the units in the line. The campaign was a logistical nightmare that would make any responsible staff officer despair. As a method of waging warfare it was insanity; but the Allies had left themselves no alternative.
Yet even the finest supply arrangements devised by man could not solve the most intractable logistical problem that faced the troops here. The grievous shortage of artillery shells on the Western Front meant that the Gallipoli sideshow, quite rightly, was starved of these most precious of resources. This can be presented as a mere issue of priorities, but it was in fact a sober recognition that the war on the Western Front, like the naval stand-off in the North Sea, was crucial to the survival of the British Empire. It was here that the war would be won or lost. Until this priority changed the MEF would simply have to make do.
IN LONDON THE WAR COUNCIL had met on 14 May to discuss the progress of the campaign that it had been responsible for initiating. Against a backdrop of bad news from both Gallipoli and the Western Front it was clear that serious decisions would have to be made. Was the campaign to be abandoned? Should massive reinforcements be sent to help Hamilton win through? Or was it better to send moderate reinforcements and rely on steady progress towards the ultimate objective? Kitchener was vehemently against any idea of an evacuation, believing the consequences would be politically disastrous in the Balkans and reduce British prestige across the Islamic world. However, he was equally certain that there were not many more reinforcements to be spared. There was also confusion among the committee members as to exactly how many divisions might be required to achieve success. It was therefore decided to check with Hamilton before coming to a decision. Kitchener cabled:
The War Council would like to know what force you consider would be necessary to carry through the operations upon which you are engaged. You should base this estimate on the supposition that I have adequate forces to be placed at your disposal.49
Secretary of State for War Lord Kitchener, War Council
Hamilton responded by asking for three divisions, in addition to the 52nd Division that he had already been promised. However, in the three days it took for him to reply the whole political situation in London changed drastically.
The Liberal government had never been strong. Now, in May 1915, it was crippled by two serious crises that were eventually to bring it down. The first was the shortage of munitions on the Western Front. The terrible casualties there were at least partially attributable to the paucity of the artillery bombardments and the grieving British population was no longer prepared to listen to excuses. The problem was augmented by the resignation of Admiral Sir John Fisher from his position as First Sea Lord. This was predictable: Fisher was too old for the pressures of the job and ground down by its responsibilities. However, he was still adored by the public. On 15 May he finally resigned, citing the drip-drip of new naval reinforcements to the Dardanelles as his reason for going. He accompanied his resignation with leaks to opposition politicians and the press to try to whip up a scandal that would overwhelm Asquith’s government.
Although the government fell, Asquith was able to continue as prime minister by negotiating an agreement with the Conservatives, to form the First Coalition Government on 25 May 1915. Many key figures in the previous government survived but Churchill did not. Fisher’s departure, the failures in the Dardanelles and the general opprobrium felt by the Conservatives, from whom he had defected to join the Liberals in 1904, meant that Churchill’s tenure as First Lord of the Admiralty was terminated. He was reduced to the nominal position of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster, leaving him in effect a Minister without Portfolio and with a much reduced Cabinet status. He was replaced at his beloved Admiralty by the veteran Conservative former prime minister Arthur Balfour. Asquith would have liked to have dispensed with Kitchener’s services as Secretary of State for War, but that was politically impossible in view of his continuing popularity with the public.
The War Council was recast and renamed, significantly, the Dardanelles Committee. This new body consisted of six members of the original War Council, five Conservatives and Kitchener. Both service representatives were dropped. Amidst all this political manoeuvring the Dardanelles Committee would not actually meet until 7 June and so no decisions were made. For the moment Hamilton would have to make do with the 52nd Division.
MAY HAD BEEN A SALUTARY MONTH for the Allies at Helles. Their plans had been stymied at every turn by the Turks and they were now facing a prolonged period of trench warfare without the troops, the artillery, the munitions or the logistical structure to succeed. Their Turkish opponents were well dug in, present in strength, had a superior tactical position and better logistics. Their only weakness was an equally chronic shortage of artillery and munitions. Yet somehow Hamilton and Hunter-Weston managed to convince themselves that a successful general assault could be launched all along the line from the Aegean to the Straits. True the British forces had been augmented slightly. Some badly needed replacement drafts had restocked the depleted ranks of the 29th Division, the Royal Marine Brigade fresh from its detachment to Anzac had been reunited with the rest of the RND, while the arrival of the 126th Brigade had completed the 42nd Division. The 52nd Division was also on its way. Nevertheless the only substantive change since the debacle of 8 May was that the Turks had become a lot stronger. Hamilton favoured waiting for the 52nd Division but Hunter-Weston was conscious that every day that passed strengthened the Turkish defences. General Albert d’Amade had been recalled to France on 15 May but his replacement, General Henri Gouraud, was equally keen to make progress. The commanders were also conscious of increasing impatience from London and Paris for tangible progress. The eventual decision to launch a general attack at Helles on 4 June in what would become the Third Battle of Krithia tactically mirrored the strategic mistakes made at the start of the campaign. Resources have to be concentrated and then deployed where there is a realistic chance of success. The decision not to await the arrival of the 52nd Division was an egregious blunder.
Once the sheer madness of making an assault at all is discounted, the operational plans conceived by Hunter-Weston’s headquarters staff of what was now known as VIII Corps (29th Division, 42nd Division and RND) were by no means stupid. They at least tried, despite the inadequacy of their artillery and ammunition resources, to destroy the enemy defences with a four-hour preliminary bombardment. They e
ven introduced a cunning plan whereby the guns would suspend firing at 11.20 to encourage the Turks to man their positions before the bombardment resumed for another half hour. As a further innovation they unleashed the Rolls Royce armoured cars of the RND to drive along the small roads that led to Krithia. As no one knew what they were capable of their orders were vague. When the infantry went over the top at 12.00 they would advance in two waves, with the intention of taking the first three Turkish lines to a depth of about 800 yards before consolidating ready to resist the inevitable counter-attacks. The French 1st and 2nd Divisions would assault the Haricot Redoubt which barred their progress at Kereves Dere; on their left the RND would launch an attack between Kereves Dere and Achi Baba Nullah; the 42nd Division would advance between Achi Baba Nullah and Krithia Nullah along Krithia Spur; while the 29th Division would push forward between Krithia Nullah and the sea. Facing them in the Helles lines were the 9th and 12th Turkish Divisions, with most of the 7th Division in reserve. As ever, the Turks could bring up reserves as required. The two forces were approximately equal in strength, an equation that promised failure for the attacking forces in trench warfare conditions on any front in the Great War in 1915.
In anticipation of the offensive, great efforts were made to secure jumping-off positions that were within easy striking range – about 200–250 yards – from the Turkish front line. This involved men being sent on local operations designed to straighten the line, sapping forwards by degrees or creeping out at night to dig new trenches right under the noses of the Turks. The night before the assault the troops made their final preparations. On the 42nd Division front, the 127th Brigade (the 1/5th, 1/6th, 1/7th and 1/8th Manchesters) had the dubious honour of leading the attack.
We are sending out parties to cut our wire in front of us to-night, the 3rd, so that we can get through. Every man has 200 rounds in his pouches, ten in rifle magazine and a loose bandolier with 100 rounds making 310 altogether to carry with him. Each man is given a gas mask and two empty sandbags. The latter are for filling if necessary, to strengthen any position that we take, then a number of red screens are issued, myself having one to carry. These we have to fix in the ground at the farthest point of enemy ground gained so that our artillery can see them and so lengthen their range beyond the screens to avoid shelling our men advancing: the screen is a piece of red canvas a yard square nailed between two stakes 4ft long to be driven in the ground. We are busy all night preparing scaling ladders and making steps in the side of the trench ready for going over at noon.50
Private Jack Gatley, 1/7th Manchester Regiment, 127th Brigade, 42nd Division
To their left the gnarled veterans of the 29th Division felt at least a tinge of hope as they discussed the artillery preparations.
The way the coming bombardment was spoken about gave one the impression that it would be almost impossible for a Turkish trench to be left whole, and as for the men who would be occupying them, they were as good as dead already, according to the whys, wherefores and therefores! We all said we hope so, as it is better for them to do the killing, than us, when they could do it from such a safe distance.51
Private Daniel Joiner, 1st KOSB, 87th Brigade, 29th Division
Friday 4 June 1915 was a beautiful, almost idyllic summer’s day where every prospect pleased and only man was vile. The bombardment opened at 08.00, concentrating on the main Turkish redoubts, before it became a general barrage of the whole Turkish lines at 11.05. On the right of the line the French artillery pounded the Haricot Redoubt and the Turkish trenches.
In a moment fire blazed up all across the Peninsula. All the batteries opened fire at the same time. I noticed with pleasure that several battleships just arrived from Lemnos at the exact hour to cooperate in the attack – that gave us confidence! For quarter of an hour there was an infernal din, although we had to fire with parsimony. What’s going to happen now? 11.15. An abrupt end to the explosions. Absolute silence! This silence certainly made a great impression on the Turks after our previous similar bombardments, because they guessed we had finished and opened an intense musketry fire to which our troops, following orders, did not reply. 11.30. The bombardment resumed. This time if the Turks understood anything it was that we had a degree of malevolent cunning!52
Second Lieutenant Raymond Weil, 39th Régiment d’Artillerie, 1st Division, CEO
The wind was blowing a thick plume of smoke and dust towards the British and French lines, obscuring their view. Colonel Hans Kannengiesser was watching from his vantage point behind the Turkish lines. To him it was an awesome display of gunnery as he watched the British and French shells crashing down on his front line.
From here one saw how accurately the English bombardment had come down on our front line. Crater lay alongside crater. A continual thick cloud of dust, which continuously blew into the air at various points like a volcano in eruption, marked our front line more clearly and accurately than I had ever seen it before. Shrapnel fire coming from the flank pierced the cloud of dust streaming upwards and raked along the trenches. ‘The poor fellows there forward!’ I thought. It was, however, impossible to help them; they must simply endure in their dugouts directly behind the front line, ready to spring out and occupy immediately the trenches, or what was left of the trenches, the moment the artillery fire lifted and the enemy infantry began to storm. We here in the rear received no shells; neither did the batteries around us. The whole artillery might of the enemy lay quite definitely on the front line trenches.53
Colonel Hans Kannengiesser, Headquarters, 9th Division, Fifth Army
So the clock ticked down and the last hours, minutes and seconds of hundreds of men’s lives trickled away. All along the line men were alone with what might be their final thoughts.
We can see through periscopes that their front line is bristling with machine guns. Meanwhile we are issued with extra iron rations, also a triangular piece of polished tin to fix on our backs so that the sun flashing on these shows where we are to the artillery and staff observers in our rear, and enables them to follow our advance and also distinguish us from the Turks who wear uniforms the same colour as ours – only the headwear is different. Nearer and nearer creeps the Zero Hour and everyone is in a nervous state of excitement which shows in various ways. The waiting is a terrible strain, we are given our usual tablespoonful of rum; we have still half an hour to wait for the whistle. Our guns now increase their fire, again the enemy follow suit until there is only 5 minutes to go then our guns lengthen their range to behind and between the Turks’ first and second lines, 3 minutes to go and I whisper a short prayer and feel quite calm now, and many farewells and promises are made to inform each other’s wives or mothers in case anything happens. One minute to go and an order to get ready and the whistle goes, we scramble up and over the top into a withering machine-gun and rifle fire with shrapnel bursting overhead.54
Private Jack Gatley, 1/7th Manchester Regiment, 127th Brigade, 42nd Division
Finally, the moment had come. On the left of the British line the 29th Indian Brigade stormed forward on the stroke of noon along Gully Spur and up the narrow channel of Gully Ravine. The result was a slaughter, for, whatever the success of the bombardment elsewhere, it had utterly failed to disturb the coherence of the Turkish defences in this sector. Second Lieutenant Reginald Savory was attacking with the 14th Sikhs in near hopeless circumstances.
Those last few minutes before Zero Hour made no deep impression on me, except possibly the familiar feeling of waiting for the pistol before a sprint with a void in the pit of one’s stomach and anxiety as to the result. And, then twelve noon – blow the whistle – scramble over the top – off you go! From that moment, I lost all control of the fighting. The roar of musketry was so intense as to drown all other sound, except for that of the guns. To try to give an order was useless. The nearest man to me was a yard away and even then I could not see him. I was fighting a lone battle. The sooner I could get across No Man’s Land and reach the cover of the enemy’s tr
enches the better. And then, before I could realise it, I found myself standing on the parapet of a Turkish trench and looking down at a Turk inside it. He seemed an ordinary person. There was none of the ‘Terrible Turk’ about him. He was not even firing, but was leaning against the back of his trench. Yet, if I had given him time, he would have shot me and there were others on either side of him. I jumped in and skewered him to the back of his trench with my bayonet. Poor devil! I can see his grimace to this day.55
Second Lieutenant Reginald Savory, 14th Sikhs, 29th Indian Brigade
Shortly afterwards he was knocked out and slightly wounded. When he awoke he found that he was one of the very few surviving officers. His subsequent comments on the battle have a bitter note.
Methods here seem to be based on a theory that all tactics are rot and that the only way to do anything at all is to rush forward bald-headed, minus support, minus reserves, and in the end probably minus a limb or two. We had as our own special task, to advance up a nullah (a thing which one has always learned should never be done until all the ground commanding it is first seized) against the Turks who were in a wired trench at the end, and also on both sides and at the top, and their machine guns took us in front and rear and from practically every side. Needless to say we had no supports whatever! Not a damned thing! 56
Second Lieutenant Reginald Savory, 14th Sikhs, 29th Indian Brigade
Alongside them the 88th Brigade, augmented for the occasion by battalions from the 86th and 87th Brigades, was attacking along Fir Tree Spur and they too encountered fierce resistance. The 1st KOSB and 4th Worcesters suffered severe casualties but they managed to gain a good deal of ground. On reaching the Turkish front line they charged on for the second line. This line had not been under bombardment; the British had neither the guns nor the shells for a deep bombardment.
Turks were jumping the parados and running for it. Others were throwing away their arms and surrendering. Led by Captain Ogilvy we all gave chase, however as the Turks had discarded their equipment and arms and were trying to beat the world’s record in sprinting, they soon widened the gap. After getting to the fourth trench Ogilvy called a halt, as we had lost our first wind. However the Turks were fleeing in all directions, the inclination to follow so strong that hardly had we got into the trench, and told off escorts for the prisoners, than we were off again. There was no more resistance, the trenches were only occupied by dead or wounded.57