by N S Nash
At about 0530 hrs, after the resumption of the advance, lights of Arab encampments were observed on both flanks, but General Kemball could not afford to delay and merely pushed out protective guards to either flank. The first signs of dawn appeared about 0545 hrs, and three-quarters of an hour later, when it was quite light, the head of the column reached what was taken to be the bend in the depression, i.e., the position of deployment. Soon, however, it was found that an embankment across the depression had been taken for the bank turning northwards, and that the head of the column was actually some 1,500 yards short of the corner.243
By now the sun was up and the cloak of darkness, so important in maintaining surprise, had been relinquished. The Dujaila Redoubt was plainly visible some 4,000 yards to the north-west. There was no visible sign of Turkish activity and it appeared that the Turks had not detected the presence of the British force. Surprisingly, surprise had been established.
Colonel Walton, who commanded 26th Punjabis, the leading battalion, continued to advance, advising his brigade commander, General Christian, of his intention. Christian and his brigade major came forward to see for themselves. Christian drew the same conclusion as Walton and hurried back to brief Kemball.
General Kemball, however, did not agree. In practically every action he had seen in Mesopotamia it had appeared as if the trenches were empty until the Turks actually opened heavy fire from them. Moreover, his past experience in the country had shown him that to start an attack before the brigade and battalion commanders had time and opportunity to get the bearings of their objectives was likely to lead to loss of direction and disconnected attacks. He consequently ordered General Christian to recall the 26th Punjabis.244
After the engagement it transpired that the Turks had not seen the British force, and they were only alerted when they came under artillery fire. Kemball was conscious of how exposed his force was to hostile artillery and moved his two columns into the depression. He sent a message to Aylmer to say that, by about 0700 hrs, his men would be fully deployed in the area of the bend (later to be called Kemball’s Corner) in the depression. The force shook itself out and deployed in accordance with Aylmer’s plan, and all along the British line the objectives could clearly be seen.
With more 20/20 hindsight, it is evident that an immediate attack on the unwary Turks may well have carried the day. It was a situation that an innovative commander such as Townshend might have exploited. In which case, the Dujaila Redoubt would probably have been taken, and chances are that the relief of Kut would have followed. Aylmer’s night march had, for the most part, succeeded. His troops were successfully deployed and the enemy was unaware of their presence, but the inflexibility of the plan was its weakness.
Aylmer had decided that an artillery strike was to take place before the infantry made its move, and the suggestion to attack at once drew the terse reply, ‘Stick to the programme.’ If surprise was one of the objects, announcing an attack with a bombardment was counterproductive. None of the formation commanders were prepared to take the initiative, and indeed, if an uncoordinated attack had been launched it would probably have failed.
But then so did the carefully planned and coordinated attack that followed.
The Artillery laid down fire on the enemy positions and, thoroughly alerted, the Turkish reinforcements poured into the vacant trenches. Three thousand had moved from Magasis Fort and multitudes more were being ferried across the Tigris ‘in native coracle-like mashoofs and on skin rafts towed by motorboats. An air reconnaissance estimated that another 3,000 came across the river during the day.’245 The guns caught some of the reinforcing Turks in open ground, but once they had gained the deeply dug trench line they were safe. It was 1000 hrs when the British emerged from their hastily dug scrapes and made for the enemy 700 yards to their front, to be met by a hail of well-directed and effective small-arms fire. Casualties mounted quickly and Kemball’s force got forward a scant 200 yards before the advance checked and the soldiers went to earth. Every man had a ‘Sirhind’ entrenching tool, a piece of kit introduced in 1908. It was cumbersome, heavy but heaven-sent in these circumstances.
Column ‘C’ (D’Urban Keary) to the east of the redoubt had planned its attack for 0530 hrs, but that was not to be as this column had been seriously delayed. On arrival at the column’s start line (‘point of departure’ in new money), the formation was disorganised, with the infantry component mixed in with animal transport units, field ambulances and the like. Both Aylmer and his Chief of Staff, Gorringe, had travelled with D’Urban Keary, so were able to see for themselves the parlous situation of Columns ‘A’ and ‘B’. There was a gap in the Turkish line in front of Column ‘C’, but the opportunity offered was not taken. Aylmer was present, but he directed that there must be no deviation from ‘the plan’. On that basis he must take direct responsibility for the inertia that was to spell disaster.
The British artillery bombardment was wholly inadequate. In the planning of the operation it had been accorded an entirely false value. It was the PBI – ‘the poor bloody infantry’ – who suffered as a result of artillery inadequacy. These soldiers had marched all night, carrying weapons, packs laden with ammunition, two days’ rations, water and an entrenching tool. By now, as the sun rose in the sky, many had already consumed the water they had been able to carry and they were faced by an obdurate, tenacious, skilled and well-concealed enemy. They depended as never before on good generalship.
They did not get good generalship and they paid with their lives.
By 1630 hrs, the columns led by Kemball were no longer a viable fighting force and Aylmer, with extraordinary optimism, decided that success could be achieved if the 8th Brigade of D’Urban Keary’s column was to strike at the east side of the redoubt, some 3,000 yards ahead. The 1st Battalion, the Manchester Regiment and the 59th Rifles were to be in the van, with 2nd Battalion Rajputs in support. Those 3,000 yards were of flat, featureless desert and the British infantry was to be exposed to fire all the way as it plodded forward. Incredibly, and despite small-arms and then artillery fire from Turkish guns, a fragile foothold was gained in the Turkish line. The Manchesters and the 59th had excelled, but their success was brief and a violent counter-attack threw them back. The survivors retreated, still under fire, those same 3,000 yards.
This was another painful and costly defeat. The 8th Brigade had been devastated and taken a 50 per cent loss. It was reduced to a head count of only 1,127. In all, thirty-three British officers and twenty-three Indian officers did not return. 2nd Rajputs lost all of their British officers and twelve of their sixteen Indian officers. 1st Battalion/2nd Gurkhas, which had joined the assault, was, for practical purposes, wiped out. The butcher’s bill for this affair was about 3,500, including 123 British officers. Turkish losses were about 1,200.
The Cavalry had played no part in the operation and, as at previous battles, it was uninvolved and non-productive. These mounted soldiers could and should have been put to better use. Aylmer’s plan for his Cavalry was for it to guard the left flank, but, as the battle developed, it could have been used to sweep right around the Dujaila position and the Hai to stem the movement of Turkish reinforcements.
Townshend and his garrison could hear the sounds of the battle taking place on the right bank. However, Kut was firmly on the left bank and the practical difficulty of breaking out in support of Aylmer has to be acknowledged. Project ‘E’ was no more than an aspiration, not least because an opposed river crossing to the right bank would be slow, difficult and costly. To break out on the left bank would require the breaching of at least three lines of Turkish defences. The probability of Townshend emerging on either bank in a condition to affect the outcome of the battle was nil. Any breakout should have been made in very early December the previous year, and four months later in March, it was no longer a viable military option.
During the night of 8/9 March, as many of the wounded as possible were recovered, but by no means all. The British force withdrew to
‘Kemball’s Corner’ and hundreds of their wounded remained out in the desert at the hands of the merciless Arabs. They were butchered where they lay, stripped of their clothes and boots. Their bodies were mutilated. British casualties on 8 and 9 March totalled 3,474, and most of these occurred on the 8th. The 9th Infantry Brigade had lost 23 per cent of its strength, three battalions of the 28th Brigade from 24–32 per cent, the 36th Brigade, 24 per cent, and the 8th Brigade, 33 per cent. The Manchesters and 2nd Rajputs suffered a high proportion of those losses.246 In the morning, Aylmer ordered the move back to the place from which this sad expedition had started and withdrew, a chastened and disappointed man. His personal future now hung in the balance.
The MC took evidence from many of the participants and observed:
Our opinion is that the chances of ‘A’ Column being up to time were slender: that the operation … was the nature of a ‘gamble’ in which the odds against success were high, but whether they were too high to justify the action cannot be stated in terms of certainty.
General Kemball said that in spite of their severe losses, he had full confidence in his men … and was anxious to try again. Headquarters did not accept this offer, and it can hardly say that they were wrong. The other reason given for not renewing the attack was the deficiency of water. General Kemball asserts that there was plenty where he was, and very likely there was enough for his men, but it is not clear that there was for the whole force.247
Kemball’s judgment has to be called into question. He had been badly mauled again but was content to put the remainder of his force at serious risk despite there being, at best, a question mark over the matter of water provision. Kemball had not been a successful commander in the battles to relieve Kut – but then he was not alone in that. In the future, the failure at Dujaila became a tactical football kicked around by the participating generals in order that ‘blame’ could be correctly attributed.
Now that the War Office and His Majesty’s Government had taken control of the campaign, it was the War Office, in the shape of Kitchener, who sacked Aylmer. He handed over command of Tigris Corps to acting Lieutenant General Sir George Gorringe. On 12 March, Aylmer wrote to his old friend Townshend and his letter has been reproduced in most of the books written concerned with this campaign. He wrote:
My Dear Townshend,
The War Office say that my conduct of operations has been unfortunate, and have ordered my suspension. I need not tell you how deeply I grieve that I have not been able to relieve you; but I have every confidence that my successor will be able to do so very soon.
I have had a harder task than most people realise. It all looks so easy when you sit in an armchair in the W.O.! The business a few days ago very nearly came off. I cannot tell you how much I admire the splendid way in which you are defending Kut.
I heartily pray that you will gain your reward in speedy relief. Give my best wishes to Dalamain, Mellis and Hamilton. Goodbye and God Bless you all, and may you be more fortunate than myself.
Yours ever,
Fenton Aylmer
These are the words and sentiments of a gallant gentleman, but a mediocre general. With his career in ruins he turned to his right, saluted and marched off the military stage into obscurity and retirement in 1919.
Townshend had known Aylmer for years and may have been saddened by his fall from grace, but he was immeasurably more distressed at the promotion to lieutenant general, albeit ‘acting’, of George Gorringe.
John Boggis recounted how, on hearing the news, Townshend expostulated to those about him, ‘But he’s junior to me.’ This was Charlie’s darkest nightmare; he had been ‘passed over’. Later that same day, Townshend wept on the shoulder of one of his officers.248 ‘Twas not a pretty sight, and in combination with his most recent communiqué it was enough to erode the respect that, hitherto, he had commanded.
Townshend was all the more aggrieved because, as recently as 5 March, he had once again raised the matter of his promotion with Lake. The fact that he was not in a position to exercise the authority of a lieutenant general, as he was, effectively, a prisoner, seems to have escaped him. Cracks were starting to appear in the demeanour and style of Chitrál Charlie. Mention was made of his recent communiqué. That was issued on 10 March and it read as follows:
as on a former occasion, I take the troops of all ranks into my confidence.
We have now stood a three-month siege in a manner which has called upon you the praise of our beloved King and our fellow countrymen in England, Scotland, Ireland and India, and all this after your brilliant battles of Kut-al–Amara and Ctesiphon and your retirement to Kut, all of which feats of arms are now famous.
Since 5 December 1915, you have spent three months of cruel uncertainty, and to all men and all people uncertainty is intolerable. As I say, on top of all this comes the second failure to relieve us and I ask you to give a little sympathy to me who have commanded you in those battles referred to, and who, having come to you as a stranger, now love my command with a depth of feeling I have never known in my life before.
When I mention myself I would also mention the names of the generals under me, whose names are distinguished in the Army as leaders of men.
I am speaking to you as I did before straight from the heart, and as I say, I ask for your sympathy for my feelings, having promised you relief on certain dates on the promise of those ordered to relieve us. Not their fault, no doubt. Do not think that I blame them; they are giving their lives freely, and deserve our gratitude and admiration.
But I want you to help me again, as before. I have asked General Aylmer for the next attempt to bring such numbers as will break down all resistance and leave no doubt as to the issue.
In order then to hold out, I am killing a large number of horses so as to reduce the quantity of grain eaten every day, and I have had to reduce your ration. It is necessary to do this in order to keep our flag flying.
I am determined to hold out, and I know you are with me heart and soul.
This open letter to his soldiers hits several unfortunate notes. It is undignified and un-officerlike. Townshend may have been under great pressure but, nevertheless, no officer or commander, of any rank, should ever appeal to his soldiers for sympathy in this way. As one soldier remarked, ‘If he’s looking for sympathy he’ll find it in the dictionary – between shit and syphilis.’
The Official History, The Campaign in Mesopotamia (p. 308), sombrely noted that the casualties of the siege up to 29 February totalled 2,927. This comprised 846 killed or died of wounds, 1,608 wounded. Thirty were ‘missing’ or had deserted and 443 had died of disease. It went on to say that, ‘The most prevalent diseases were gastro-enteritis, diarrhoea and malaria among British troops and dysentery and pneumonia among the Indian troops. In January and early February, frostbite and trench rheumatism were also common.’
Chapter notes
232 Diary of Lieutenant Colonel L. Bell Syer, quoted by Braddon, The Siege, p.199.
233 Roff, G., Ibid.
234 Sherson, E., Townshend of Chitrál and Kut, p.318.
235 Lieutenant Colonel E.W.C. Sandes DSO MC RE survived the siege and in 1933 wrote the book The Military Engineer in India. This was reprinted in 2001.
236 Braddon, R., interview of 1967–68 and recorded in The Siege, p.201.
237 Townshend, C.V.F., My Campaign in Mesopotamia. p.287.
238 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.300.
239 MC Report, p.33.
240 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.318.
241 Ibid, p.320.
242 A pace stick was and is the weapon of choice of drill instructors in the infantry. It is rather like a man-sized compass. By skilful manipulation it is used to measure the length of the pace. RMA Sandhurst is now thought, by aficionados, to be the spiritual home of the pace stick, now that there is no longer a Guards’ Depot to nurture it.
243 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.322.
244 Ibi
d, p.323.
245 Barker, A.J., The Neglected War, p.192.
246 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.348.
247 MC Report, p.34.
248 Harris, Major J.H., interviewed by Braddon and recorded in The Siege, p.212.
Chapter 14
April 1916
The Battle of Sannaiyat and Capitulation
‘Famine makes greater havoc in an army than the enemy and is more terrible than the sword.’
(Flavius Vegetius Renatus, Military Institutions of the Romans, c. AD 378, Clarke, 1776)
On 10 March, Captain E.O. Mousley, hitherto a young man with a very positive attitude, confided in his diary what was probably in the minds of many of his fellow ‘Kuttites’. He recorded that:
One would think that the lesson of Ctesiphon was sufficient to chasten the authorities out of the belief that the Mesopotamian campaign could be dallied with.
By sheer brilliancy of arms a whole country had been conquered by one unsupported division. This achievement was not enough, however, and the cheap methods in vogue further required this one division to risk the whole fruits of a campaign in a single doubtful throw and against the advice of its generals.
Through the same cheap methods of having insufficient forces to follow up a brilliant victory, our army was badly let down and several thousand lives flung away.249
The spectre of defeat had appeared and the Kuttites were beginning to see themselves as victims. It was not an unreasonable judgment by Mousley, given his limited access to the complete picture.