by Peter Hart
The plan, such as it was, was simple: the 29th Division would storm Scimitar Hill while the 11th Division would attack the W Hills. These were two divisions in name, but both were shattered from their recent experiences. The 29th Division had been fighting without a break since 25 April, with few of its original regulars left, while the 11th Division had been flailing around Suvla Bay for the last two weeks, experiencing constant frustration and ever-mounting casualties. Meanwhile, to the south of the plain a composite brigade from the ANZAC Corps was to launch an attack on the diminutive Hill 60 feature which, despite its minimal height, was in a critical position standing guard over the junction between Anzac and Suvla. Kept safe behind Lala Baba would be the final reserves to arrive for the denouement of the summer campaign, the 2nd Mounted Division, made up of members of the dismounted territorial Yeomanry Regiments, of whom none apart from a few old Boer War hands lurking within their ranks had seen active service.
The preliminary bombardment commenced at 14.30 and lasted for just half an hour in order to try to limit the time available to the Turks to move up their reserves. There were a mere eighty-five guns and howitzers firing in support of IX Corps, with the assistance of the pre-dreadnought Swiftsure, three cruisers and a couple of destroyers. They had a severe shortage of ammunition, but they still managed to make an impact on the Turks, as exemplified by the experiences of Lieutenant Ismail Hakki Sunata of the 2/35th Regiment.
It was after one in the afternoon. Two howitzer shells whined over our heads. They fell on the 5th Company a little to our left. One shell fell in front of the trench, and another behind it. There was a tremendous explosion that filled the air with dust and smoke. Howitzers are different from other guns. We can’t hear the gun fire. It’s coming from somewhere on the right flank. The shells make a strange whistling noise as they pass over our heads. Then they land and explode with a great noise. They destroy where they land. May Allah help those who happen to be there. They are using Mestan Tepe as a sighting point. The trenches on the other side of it are under heavy artillery fire. This is turning into a major battle. The shelling goes on and on. Ismail Efendi says, ‘Things are getting bad, I had better go!’ He needs to be with his unit. The howitzer shells are coming so fast they seem like a constant thunder. Fortunately very few are falling in my area. The closest is about 30 metres away, on the far end of my platoon. From there to the left is dust, smoke, noise, confusion and terror. Nothing can be seen for the dust and smoke. I cannot see how far the bombarded area extends. A while later the 3rd Battalion companies who were in reserve began to arrive. They are sent to fill the gaps in the shelled trenches, but the shelling is still going on, so they pack into our trenches. There is hardly room to move. With great difficulty I was able to get some of them out and moving. Anyway, it is pointless to send more troops to be killed there. They can wait in readiness a little in the rear. If Allah was on the Muslims’ side he would stuff the British guns with straw and their guns could not fire. He doesn’t stuff them, and they fire as they wish. We don’t have as many guns to fire as they do. With prayers and paeans the firing does not stop. Well, prayers are from desperation, what can we say? 2
Lieutenant Ismail Hakki Sunata, 2nd Battalion, 35th Regiment, 12th Division, Fifth Army
In fact the British shelling appeared much worse than it was. Great sections of the Turkish lines were left relatively untouched, nothing hit the rear lines and the massed reserves went unscathed. Not enough guns, not enough shells – the situation was hopeless, as the assaulting British troops were to find out when they went over the top at 15.00.
The air is full on every side with invisible death. ‘Whizz! Phutt!’ A bullet kicks up a little spray of dust from the dry grey earth underfoot, another and another to left and right. The sensation of terror is swallowed in an overwhelming conviction that the only possible course is forward – forward at any cost. That is what we have been telling ourselves all through the long waiting, and that is our only clear impression now. Forward – and we instinctively bend as one does to meet a hailstorm – and rush for it. Beyond the rough ploughed ground over which we are advancing lies a low, thick belt of brambles and bushes. Here, for a time, we can lie under cover and regain our breath for a second rush. The man on my left stumbles and comes down with a crash and a groan. Only an instinctive catch of the breath and the old conviction – forward at all costs – swamps all other sensations. Down we go behind the kindly shelter, and the bullets fly over us. Telling the men to be quiet, I crawl through the brush to try and find our direction for the next rush. Satisfied of our direction once more, our line bursts through the bushes and rushes over the open for the next hedge. A few piteous bundles behind us tell of our lessening strength – and now a new horror discloses itself, ‘Boom! Whirrrr-crash!’ On every side the ground is torn up by the heavy leaden pellets as the shrapnel bursts above us. And to left and right of me fresh sounds break out – dreadful human sounds which I won’t describe.3
Second Lieutenant Edmund Priestman, 6th York and Lancaster Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
From the Turkish perspective it was a desperate fight, but a fight that they could win.
Suddenly the howitzers shelling the trenches fell silent. The naval guns and shrapnel shelling the rear continued. When the howitzer fire stopped the dust and smoke over the trenches slowly began to clear. From the right the word was passed by mouth: ‘The enemy have risen to the attack, let the left flank take care!’ The news came from Kiretch Tepe. Indeed, behind the slowly clearing dust and smoke, from our position we began to see masses of British advancing. We immediately opened fire on them from the flank. The enemy is not attacking our front, but that of the units to our left. Our flanking fire is very effective. As the dust and smoke cleared from over them the units to our left also opened fire. Now it’s up to the infantry. All the reserves and other idle forces began to move in that direction, towards the area under attack. The infantry fire is getting stronger and stronger. At this time I heard that Rustem’s Company Commander had been seriously wounded. A howitzer shell landed next to a squad’s trench and exploded. All the soldiers in the trench were buried. The excitement mounts, and we are consumed by anxiety and worry. I doubt the enemy can succeed when all is up to the infantry rifles. But I don’t know how much damage the artillery fire did. The British keep coming. We see this and fire incessantly.4
Lieutenant Ismail Hakki Sunata, 2nd Battalion, 35th Regiment, 12th Division, Fifth Army
To the south of the 11th Division, the 29th Division was collectively demonstrating in front of Scimitar Hill that experience counted for little in such a doomed set of circumstances. The 1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers and 1st Border Regiment had between them managed to gain a tentative foothold on top of Scimitar Hill, only to find themselves under severe enfilading fire from the Anafarta Spur. Backwards and forwards went the battle, momentary triumphs followed by chastening retreats back down the hill when the pressure became too much. At 16.00 de Lisle decided to send forward his last reserves, the 2nd Mounted Division. They had been relatively safe behind Lala Baba, but now the foolishness of that deployment was laid bare. To get forward to Scimitar Hill they would have to advance across the wide open spaces of the Salt Lake in full view of the Turkish artillery. These Yeomanry soldiers’ conversion into infantry had been hasty; indeed, they had only been issued with infantry pattern webbing and equipment a few days before. The 1st County of London Yeomanry (Middlesex Hussars) would lead the advance. At least the men set off with a jaunty tune.
In my troop we had been rather proud of a mouth organ band which had produced some amazing orchestral effects and we had set our hearts on going into action on the first occasion to its music. Unfortunately, having to act as Adjutant, I was unable to march with my men, but when the regiment was drawn up to take the lead as the first line of the reserve to sweep on towards Chocolate Hill, I was delighted to hear the sound of the familiar mouth organ. The chef d’orchestre was a certain trooper who rejo
iced in the name of ‘Gunboat Smith’ and enjoyed no small reputation in the regiment by reason of the fact that he had acted as trainer to the famous boxer of that name. ‘Gunboat’ accordingly struck up, and it was positively to the sound of music that this troop of the Middlesex Hussars went for the first time into battle.5
Captain William Wedgwood Benn, 1st County of London Yeomanry, 4th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
Of course many of the men were nervous. This was their first time in action. Initially nothing much happened as they trudged slowly across the dried lake bed.
After about half-an-hour’s progress we reached the enemy’s shrapnel, through which, of course, we were bound to pass if we were to attain Chocolate Hill. Casualties began, but our orders were strict, and forbade us to stop for anyone. When men fell they had to be left for the stretcher parties which were following. Suddenly I saw with horror my troop hit by a shell and eight men go down. The rest were splendid. They simply continued to advance in the proper formation at a walk, and awaited the order, which did not come for another quarter-of-an-hour, before breaking into the double. Some men exhibited extraordinary calm. I remember one picked up a tortoise, surprised to see it running wild, and another, an NCO, observing a man drop his rations, bent and gathered them up for him – an act which just brought him in reach of a splinter which wounded him!6
Captain William Wedgwood Benn, 1st County of London Yeomanry, 4th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
Visually the scene resembled a Napoleonic battlefield, with the men laid out in vast formation walking slowly to an all too obvious fate as a mass of exploding shells engulfed the head of the column. For the Turkish artillery officers the British presented a ridiculously easy target. First they ranged on the head of the column but then they redoubled their efforts to create a wall of shells that every squadron following had no choice but to walk through. The open plain was devoid of cover; once they had started the troops had no option but to plod on.
The first shell I remember seeing burst a little over to my left nearly smashing an ambulance party with stretchers – the next thing I saw was one of our staff captains double up then run towards the ambulance to be attended to – then our Colonel dropped with a bullet through his jaw. After that shells and bullets began to burst and spit amongst us properly and we knew we were copping it hot and strong. First one poor fellow would double up and fall then another poor chap would collapse all in a heap. I suddenly found that we were all at the double though as far as I had heard, no order had actually been given. There are one or two more incidents which still stand out in my mind – one was the bursting of a shell a little to my right scattering bullets right through us. It was from this shell that most of the casualties in my troop were made and I distinctly remember ducking under a piece of it which ricked from the sand, sang just over me hitting someone on the left flank and smashing his rifle which was held up in front of his face to protect him – he came through unhurt. Another thing I remember was getting caught with some part of my equipment in some bushes and how bad tempered I got (to say the least of it) because I thought it would prevent me keeping up with my pals. I also remember how fearful the desire seemed to want to lie down behind each bush or tuft of grass to take useless cover. In fact most of us did start to get down in one place where the shells were falling thickest but I think it was more through fatigue than anything else. However we had hardly touched the ground when our Adjutant, running up from the rear, yelled, ‘Come on boys, it’s worse if you lie down!’ So off we went again until we reached the safety under cover of Chocolate Hill. This was our baptism of fire which had to be done in cold blood because the enemy were absolutely invisible and we had no chance to get our own back in any way.7
Lieutenant Harold Davis, 1st Royal Gloucester Hussars, 1st Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
Finally, as the Yeomanry approached Chocolate Hill, they received the orders to advance at the double. This was easier said than done.
No confusion or shouting, just a grim determination on everyone’s face, dripping with sweat and not a few with streams of blood. Now and again a hoarse shout from our officer to extend and not to get bunched up. The running with our pack was difficult. Across ploughed fields we went, jumping over ditches and trenches, almost falling exhausted on the other side amongst the dead and wounded.8
Corporal Colin Millis, 2nd County of London Yeomanry, 5th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
When they reached the cover and respite offered by the bulk of Chocolate Hill they rested for a brief while before launching attacks round either side of the hill. The 1st County of London Yeomanry were directed to the right, with Scimitar Hill and then the W Hills their ambitious objectives.
Up to that moment I can remember nothing but wild excitement and supreme buoyancy as of one living in oxygen. During the next advance we had no shell fire to meet, only rifle and machine gun – a new experience for us, and one which inspired more fear than it really merited. We ran across the first field and jumped into a line of trenches – supports of our own, then out again and forward into the next trench, leaping in on top of the men of the Division ahead of us, whose reserves we were. They nearly all, I recollect, shouted to us as we approached to take cover and get down, but almost always tried to wave us away from the particular part they themselves were occupying. The fact was they were packed tight, I should say one man to every 15 inches.9
Captain William Wedgwood Benn, 1st County of London Yeomanry, 4th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
They made a break forward advancing on to the slopes of Scimitar Hill. Here they completely misjudged the situation.
As far as we could see it provided good cover, for there appeared to be a number of reserves lying there in perfect quiet and safety. Out we sprang with a shout and ran forward to the selected spot, only to find that it was under brisk machine gun fire. The reserves were quiet indeed – for they were dead! We lay down flat, and then crawled a little higher up the hill, hearing all the time the terrifying rattle of a Maxim which we, of course, thought was the cause of all the killing. We assured one another for our better comfort that it must be one of our own guns covering the advance, and this, in fact, turned out to be true. We saw nothing for it now but to get up and shift our position. For one thing, the bushes in front of us were alight and the fire was steadily advancing on to the corpses at our side.10
Captain William Wedgwood Benn, 1st County of London Yeomanry, 4th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
The burning hills brought a whole new horror to a battlefield that was already full of terrors.
A long belt of gorse and scrub had caught alight with the shells which very quickly spread. There was no help for it but to push through and chance to luck, which I did, but came out the other side like a nigger and almost choking with the smoke. An awful death trap this was and it claimed many victims, the poor devils simply dropped in dozens and were speedily burnt with the flames – a sight that I shan’t forget.11
Corporal Colin Millis, 2nd County of London Yeomanry, 5th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
That desperate night saw much confusion. It was extremely difficult for officers and NCOs to maintain good order with men tried beyond endurance in a situation for which their meagre training had not prepared them. Soon panic set in as the Yeomanry tumbled back on to Green Hill.
A young officer ran along the trench shouting that the orders were to retire at once. I can remember how foolish I thought his conduct, for the effect on our troops under fire for the first time and completely fatigued by ten hours of fighting, was of the worst. However, I had to carry the order to the regiment on our left, and gradually the whole of what remained of the brigade was withdrawn, and began to form up in a road some two or three hundred yards to the rear. I was then sent back to inform whatever troops I could find on our right that the brigade was moving. For me this was the most unpleasant hour I had had during the day. The moon seemed suddenly to be extinguished, and the rifle fire to redouble in vigour and the flas
hes all to become visible, though up to then I had hardly noticed them. I was suddenly convinced that the Turks now were actually coming on. I found the regiment on our right, and shouted out my instructions in much the same style as the officer I had been blaming! I was pulled together by the conduct of a very young person in charge, who rose from the trench and most strenuously damned me for giving orders direct to his men, adding that as they did not belong to our brigade he intended to ignore the orders and remain where he was. I shall always admire that exhibition of grit.12
Captain William Wedgwood Benn, 1st County of London Yeomanry, 4th Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division
But the night was terrifying for the Turks too. Not sure what was going on, they feared a renewed night attack, or perhaps a British breakthrough.
It is getting dark. With the ceasing of the artillery fire some calm has descended on the scene. But the infantry fire continues. The sound of the artillery has given way to other sounds. From our left come shouts, moans, groans and screams, and orders are given. The rear of the trenches is full of wounded and moaning men; there are dead also. In the twilight some are coming, some are going, total confusion. Nothing can be understood of what is happening. A medical orderly has been raked across the stomach at the level of his navel by a machine gun, his wounds are exposed. Sergeant Hakki, whom I first met in the 6th Company, is badly wounded. I went to him at once. ‘Don’t forget me, avenge me on the British, I am going. Give me your blessing!’ he said. I immediately sent him with some soldiers from his company to the aid station. Will the poor fellow survive, I wonder? I doubt it. A clean, innocent, honourable soldier of this army. What a pity. There are many dead and wounded. The enemy wounded are also calling out in front. The enemy was completely repulsed. The night passed with carrying the wounded and burying the dead. We were all awake. The day’s events had made us so nervous we had forgotten even what sleep was.13