Gallipoli

by Peter Hart

  Lieutenant Ismail Hakki Sunata, 2nd Battalion, 35th Regiment, 12th Division, Fifth Army

  Of the 14,300 men who had taken part in the Allied attack, 5,300 were killed, wounded or missing. Ultimately, the 11th Division, the 29th Division and the 2nd Mounted Division had, like so many divisions before them, been sacrificed on the Suvla Plain for nothing.

  Only in the battle for Hill 60, near the tenuous junction with Anzac, was there the possibility of a worthwhile gain. But even here the name of the hill indicates to what a low ebb British ambition had sunk. For Hill 60 was a mere hillock that had gone unnoticed in the early planning of the Suvla landings. Now that everything else had turned to dust, that small eminence seemed crucial. The remnants of numerous battalions were therefore scraped up from the battered brigades of the ANZAC Corps to launch an assault which would begin at 15.30 on 21 August, half an hour after the main attack. The task of the depleted 4th Australian Brigade, reduced to just 1,400 men, was particularly eye-catching. They had to attack from Damakjelik Bair, across the shallow valley of Kaiajik Dere and up on to Hill 60 itself, all the while enfiladed from the Turkish trenches on Hill 100 at the head of the valley. Although they would be assisted by elements of various British, Indian and New Zealand units, the experienced Australians were not impressed.

  On August 7 we could have taken Hill 60 and Hill 100 almost without a casualty. Now that the Turks had thoroughly entrenched Hill 60, garrisoned it strongly and arranged machine guns to sweep every foot of its surface, we were to storm it. What chance would the Turks have had of taking Hill 92 from us by direct attack? None whatever; just as much chance as we had of taking Hill 60 from them. The Australian attacking force – consisting of 250 men each from the 13th and 14th Battalions – was to make a sortie from the left of the 13th’s line, form up behind a bushy hill which partly masked our line from Hill 60, and charge over the crest of this hill in three waves. The distance to be covered varied from 200 to 250 yards. While this would have been an impossible task for troops ‘in the pink’, four out of five of those chosen for the attack were sick and weary men.14

  Captain Henry Loughran, 14th (Victoria) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  When the time came to launch the attack at 15.30 it was Lieutenant Ford of the 13th Battalion who led the first wave of 150 men, with the cry of ‘Come on!’ as he leapt over the parapet.

  The men rose as one and rushed to the attack. The severity of the naval bombardment led us to believe that no Turk would be left alive on the position; but as soon as we topped the rise a merciless hail of rifle and machine gun fire met us, and men fell quickly. A rush down the slope, over a dry gully and up the other slope, I found myself at the first objective, a ridge, with six men. I sent Sergeant Norman McDonald to the right and another to the left to see if any more had got over – one could not see for the scrub and broken ground. McDonald found ten on the right, and about 24 reported on the left – 40 of us out of 150 in about a 200 yards rush. The Turks kept up a very heavy fire, making it impossible to advance with so few.15

  Lieutenant Hubert Ford, 13th (New South Wales) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  All they could do was wait for the reserve waves – but then again could they get across that awful open ground? As it was, very little had changed, with the Turks on Hill 100 still enfilading their line of approach to Hill 60. Major Sydney Herring, in command of the third wave, had watched the first two waves go over. Now it was his turn.

  We were heavily laden, this made a quick dash impossible and we only got half way across when we were held up by enemy machine gun fire. I decided to stay where we were for half an hour to give the machine gun fire a chance of dying down and then make a surprise dash for our objective. This wait was one of the worst I have ever experienced. There we were crouched behind some very indifferent cover in No Man’s Land, half way between our front line and our objective. Our dead and wounded were lying around us in all directions, and to add to the horror of the situation our shells had set fire to the scrub and some of our wounded were being burnt to death before our eyes. After half an hour had elapsed I said, ‘Come on, we will give it a go!’ and dashed out. There were two slight depressions leading towards Hill 60 and by lucky chance I chose the one nearest to the Turks and it so happened that this particular depression was slightly sheltered from their fire. Of those that took this route the majority reached their objective, whilst the ones that took the other route nearly all became casualties. I managed to reach the position our first wave had captured with all that was left of the third wave – about fifty in all.16

  Major Sydney Herring, 13th (New South Wales) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  They could go no further. They began digging in. And there they stayed. A volunteer died trying to take back a message to Hill 92 to report their parlous position. That night Captain Henry Loughran went out looking for wounded.

  The Turks were now shelling the hill and soon the scrub was alight in several places. This was an advantage from the point of view of the medical personnel, for it gave us a smoke screen behind which we could work, even on the frontal slope, though there was a fair amount of risk from chance bullets. It was, however, by no means an advantage to those wounded who were unable to crawl away from the flames and for some time all that my stretcher bearers did was to carry away wounded, as rapidly as possible, from this zone. Dead men we left where they were and, as the flames reached them, the cartridges in their pouches popped off and occasionally a bomb exploded. If any living wounded were burnt, they were unconscious, as we heard no cries of pain from the flames.17

  Captain Henry Loughran, 14th (Victoria) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  They had gained a small footing on their objective but the Turks merely fell back to another line of trenches. They still controlled the top of Hill 60. That night the calls for reinforcements grew so insistent that the 18th Battalion of the newly landed 5th Australian Brigade was thrown into action early on the morning of 22 August. These men were fresh, but correspondingly untested. Most of them had no idea until the last minute that they were going into an attack but thought they were merely taking over a section of the line. Corporal Rex Boyden found it difficult to forget his traumatic experiences as they attacked Hill 60.

  We were moving along through a Gurkhas’ trench and were ordered to fix bayonets, so we knew that there was to be a charge. Having been marching from 12 o’clock we were extremely tired and thirsty, for we had had nothing to eat or drink from the evening before, so we did not feel much like charging. Well, about 6 o’clock the charge was ordered, and we all rushed forward. We captured two trenches and were charging forward to capture the third when I was hit.18

  Corporal Rex Boyden, 18th (New South Wales) Battalion, 5th Brigade, 2nd Australian Division, AIF

  Boyden would lie out in the open for a day and a half, rendered immobile by a severe stomach wound, but miraculously he suffered only a few slight grazes as bullets splattered all around him, even ripping through his clothes.

  It was simply wonderful how God watched over me. I could realise His presence so strong with me that all fear was taken away, although shells and shrapnel were bursting within a few yards of me and bullets flying everywhere. I couldn’t possibly move at the time, and it was fortunate I didn’t, for I was behind a dead man and he was sheltering me from the deadly fire of the Turks. I could hear the bullets pelting him while I was lying there. All day long I was looking forward to the night when I thought it would be dark enough to allow the stretcher bearers to come for me. But it was not to be, for it was bright moonlight, and none came to fetch me, so I lay there until the moon went down, about an hour before daybreak next morning. I managed to crawl about 25 yards, which took me nearly an hour, and brought me near to a part of our trench. I couldn’t go any further but shouted out for a stretcher bearer, and one of the New Zealanders pulled me over the parapet into the trench.19

  Corporal Rex Boyden, 18th (New South W
ales) Battalion, 5th Brigade, 2nd Australian Division, AIF

  For all their efforts, the junction between Anzac and Suvla was still under threat. It was decided to make one last effort on 27 August. A scratch force of Australians, New Zealanders and the 5th Connaught Rangers charged forward once again at around 16.00. These battered units made varying degrees of progress, some managing to get into the Turkish lines and press them back from the southern slopes. In desperation the 10th Light Horse were called forward. They were still suffering the aftereffects of their disastrous charge at The Nek and had just under 200 men when they charged forwards at 01.00 on 28 August. Against all the odds they gained a little more ground, but could they keep it?

  The Turks made a very determined counter-attack from the right and right rear of our position. They came in waves, crying, ‘Allah, Allah!’ and at one time we could see a German officer standing on the parapet of their trench urging the men on, but he was soon put out of action. They came right up to the muzzles of our rifles, and were only kept out by rapid rifle fire and bomb-throwing. They managed to smash down our first barricade, but another one was built at the next traverse and a stand was made from there. Fortunately many of the enemy bombs had long time fuses, and we had time to catch a number of the bombs and throw them back before they exploded. Of course some were missed, exploded among our men and did a great deal of damage.20

  Corporal Henry Macnee, 10th (Western Australia) Light Horse, 3rd Light Horse Brigade, AIF

  In charge of blocking off the communication trench leading to the rest of the Turkish trenches was Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell. He stood watch in the inky darkness while his men hurriedly filled sandbags to create a barricade. Before they could finish the job the Turks made their first tentative move, creeping along the trench to try to locate the Australian position. Throssell is reputed to have calmly shot the first five to appear. Then the real fighting began.

  The Turks are fine fighters and extremely brave men, and all that night they stood one side of this barrier within five yards of us trying to bomb us out. The Turks counter-attacked three times; that does not sound very much, but I can assure you that with the Turks within five yards of you with only a couple of feet sandbag barrier between, and with hundreds of them coming at you with fixed bayonets in the front, the chances of coming through that ordeal alive are very remote.21

  Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell, 10th (Western Australia) Light Horse, 3rd Light Horse Brigade, AIF

  The Turks were determined to regain their viewpoint and attacked throughout the night. It was a desperate fight with no quarter given by either side. Sergeant John McIlwain was sent forward with the meagre reserves of the 5th Connaught Rangers.

  I take my party over the top in rear and with about twenty men occupy portion of trench nominally Australian as many wounded Anzacs are there. Not long there when Turks bomb us from front and left flank, also snipe us along the trench from left. My men with few exceptions panicstricken. By rapid musketry we keep down the bombing. My rifle red almost with firing. By using greatcoats we save ourselves from bombs. Turks but 10 yards away drive us back foot by foot. I have extraordinary escapes. Two men killed beside me in the narrow trench and I am covered head-to-foot in blood. Casualties alarming and we should have fought to the very end but for the 18th Australian Battalion, a party of whom jumped in amongst us and held the position until reinforced. When able to look about me I find but two Rangers left with me. The rest killed, wounded, or ran away before or after the Anzacs had come. Struggling all night: consolidating, firing, and looking out. Anzacs abusive for the Rangers having lost trench. The most awful night of my life.22

  Sergeant John McIlwain, 5th Connaught Rangers, 29th Brigade, 10th Division

  So many bombs were thrown by both sides that the Turks would later call the Hill 60 feature ‘Bomba Tepe’. One of Throssell’s men, Corporal ‘Sid’ Ferrier, caught a bomb which exploded in his hand before he could hurl it back. He is reputed to have then continued throwing bombs using his other hand before walking back to the aid post. Throssell managed to hold out, but just before dawn the Turks made their final great effort.

  Then they crawled out of the trenches and came straight at us. In the dim light we could see them against the skyline. I passed the word to our fellows, and when the first Turks got within 10 yards we cheered and shouted, and, standing up in the trenches, started firing as fast as we could. There was no thought of cover. We just blazed away until the rifles grew red-hot and jammed, then we picked up the rifles the wounded or killed men had left.23

  Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell, 10th (Western Australia) Light Horse, 3rd Light Horse Brigade, AIF

  Corporal Ferrier had his shattered arm amputated, but would die of tetanus on the hospital ship and was buried at sea on 9 September. Throssell would be awarded the VC. The long-awaited dawn, however, brought bitter disappointment. Although they had captured the Turkish trenches, thereby depriving them of the ability to observe closely the junction of Anzac and Suvla in the Susak Kuyu sector, the morning light revealed that the Turks were still in control of a trench system on the slightly higher round summit which in turn overlooked the Turkish lines on the northern slopes. The attacks had drained the last of the offensive vitality from the ANZAC Corps. Further attacks would not happen – at least in the short term. As it was, both sides could look out over their own lines but could see little of their opponent’s hinterland. Both sides, therefore, had good reason to want to advance just a little further so Hill 60 would remain a bitterly contested battleground.

  THESE LAST AUGUST ATTACKS on the foothills of Scimitar Hill, the W Hills and Hill 60 were never likely to result in significant gains. The Turks had plenty of troops, access to reserves, adequate artillery support and a clear line of retreat to ranks of trenches stretching back up the hills and ridges that surrounded Suvla. As localised tactical objectives their capture made sense, for that would strengthen the British positions. Scimitar Hill and the W Hills would certainly also provide a better launching point for the next offensive – in the unlikely event of tens of thousands more troops being assigned for the Gallipoli campaign. However, the desirability of limited objectives should not have been the impetus for launching attacks with minimal chance of success – all that was achieved was an inflated casualty list. These were pointless attacks and if they typified any British trait it was a lunatic persistence in the face of the obvious.

  SHOULD THEY STAY OR

  SHOULD THEY GO?

  We have four enemies to contend with – the Bosches, the Turks, the Bulgars and His Majesty’s Government – and the last is the most deadly. It is deplorable that it should be so.1

  Major General Sir Charles Caldwell, Director of Military Operations, War Office

  THE TRADITIONAL ANALYSIS of the Anzac and Suvla operations of August 1915 has presented the fighting as a near-run thing, in which the British were only thwarted by a mixture of bad luck, poor command and control at Suvla and the genius of Mustafa Kemal. This ignores clear evidence that once again blind optimism had stood in the place of realistic operational planning.

  We have already examined and found wanting the plans for the night operations out of Anzac on 6 August; we have also commented on the confused planning process that fatally blurred the focus of the Suvla landings and on the poor standards of leadership that helped stall the operations. But these operations only represented the first stage of a four-stage campaign, in which every phase needed to be successful in order to justify the deployment of so many men and resources away from the fulcrum of the war on the Western Front. Remember: the overall objective of the campaign was nothing less than the removal of Turkey from the war. The capture of Sari Bair Ridge was just a stepping stone; from there the Allies would have to take control of the Third Ridge and Mal Tepe. Somehow, then, enough troops would have to be found to storm the Turkish defences on the Kilid Bahr Plateau which guarded the Narrows. Then the fleet would have to penetrate the Sea of Marmara – something for whi
ch there seems to have been no realistic advance planning. Next the Goeben, the Breslau and the Turkish fleet would have to be summarily despatched, before Constantinople itself could be threatened. Would the Turks surrender? If not, and they prolonged the fight, then the fleet would soon find itself isolated, possibly even condemned to a humiliating retreat.2 The truth is that the whole campaign was ill-conceived, with minimal chances of success, whether there was an attack on 25 April, 4 June or 21 August. Given that, perhaps the major criticism of Sir Ian Hamilton should be for his refusal to accept the military logic of the situation and for his willingness to push on regardless. One thing is certain: the failure of the August Offensive made the likelihood of a clear-cut military success in Gallipoli an impossibility. Second Lieutenant Raymond Weil pondered gloomily on grimness of the situation at Helles.

  The whole terrain was scored, mined, criss-crossed with traps, barred with skilfully concealed barbed wire; air reconnaissance photographs revealed to us new earthworks, lines of defence and recently established gun batteries, while we just stayed put where we were. Systematically sprinkling with shells the trenches and works of the enemy and in counter-battery fire on irritating Turkish batteries without managing to muzzle them completely. Our infantry dug saps on saps, moving forward bit by bit the front lines, every day getting closer to the Turkish lines until they were almost touching. As a result our barrage fire was almost impossible. In all, although we had confidence in our High Command we felt that we were no longer being directed; that there was a total lack of unity of purpose and as a result of all this our expedition was dormant.3