by N S Nash
Dawn was now breaking and it proved impossible to rally and reorganize units in daylight under heavy fire, and on ground devoid of any cover. Some companies of the Brigade managed to dig in where they stood, but the remainder fell back to the starting line. By dusk, however, it was clear that there was nothing to be gained by staying out in shallow trenches in exposed localities, and the forward companies were withdrawn also. Later a new line was consolidated about 400 yards from the Turkish position.
The non-success of the attack on the Sannaiyat position was not due to lack of courage on the part of the troops engaged, but their ranks now contained a large percentage of inexperienced soldiers, and owing to the casualties in the previous assaults all units were lacking in trained officers and junior leaders. Further, the difficulties and hazards of a night attack must never be forgotten, even with the most highly trained and seasoned troops.262
Battle casualties in this unsuccessful action amounted to 1,600, and in the two linked actions at Fallahiya and Sannaiyat, the 13th Division lost 3,600 men, or a chilling 46 per cent of its strength. Little wonder that in all that carnage and ferocious hand-to-hand fighting there were numerous acts of great courage, and five Victoria Crosses were won. On 10 April, Townshend issued another communiqué, and in it he said:
The result of the attack of the Relief Force on the Turks entrenched in the Sannaiyat position is that the Relief Force has not yet won its way through, but is entrenched close up to the Turks, in some places 200 or 300 yards distant. General Gorringe wired me last night that he was consolidating his position as close to the enemy’s trenches as he can get, with the intention [of] attacking again. He has had some difficulty with the floods, which he had remedied.
I have no other details. However, you will see that I must not run any risk over the calculated date to which our rations would last – namely 15th April. As you will understand well, digging means delay, although General Gorringe does not say so.
I am compelled therefore to appeal to you all to make a determined effort to eke out our scanty means so that I can hold out for certain till our comrades arrive and I know I shall not appeal to you in vain. I have to reduce our rations to five ounces of meat for all ranks British and Indian.
In this way I can hold out until 21 April, if it becomes necessary, and it is my duty to take all precautions in my power. I am sorry that I can no longer favour the Indian soldiers in the matter of meat, but there is no possibility of doing so now. It must be remembered that there is plenty of horseflesh, which they have been authorised by their religious leaders to eat, and I have to recall with sorrow that by not having taken advantage of this wise and just dispensation, they have weakened my power of resistance by one month.
Townshend then went on to refer back to his communiqué of 26 January, extolled the manner in which the garrison had done its duty hitherto and assured them that they would be remembered in history, not unlike the defenders of ‘Plevna and Ladysmith’. The probability was that not one man in a thousand had ever heard of Plevna, and only the British would connect with Ladysmith. He concluded by saying how confident he was of relief and asked again for support over ‘the food question’.
This communiqué had the merit of bringing the garrison up to date but its content was quickly common knowledge in the town. Among the 6,000 inhabitants there were, without question, informants in touch with the Turks. Thus Townshend’s communiqué gave Khalil the important information he required and was the genesis of his subsequent uncompromising position two weeks or so later when he declined to negotiate with Townshend.
This completely unachievable 15 April deadline applied yet more pressure on Gorringe, who had to fight a redoubtable foe and the elements as well. The water table rose again, and at this time of the year that was only to be expected. What was not expected was that, in what were impossible conditions, the British would be obliged to conduct offensive operations while building bunds to keep floodwaters at bay. On the left bank, the trenches were so filled with water that men had to swim! On the right bank, the Turks broke down the banks at Bait Aisa and Umm-al-Bahram, and by so doing exacerbated the effects of the flood. However, this was not entirely to the Turks’ advantage, as they had to suffer their share of the water and the discomfort.
Gorringe was unimaginative and ruthless, but made of stout stuff. Notwithstanding the bizarre state of the battlefield, he decided that he would cause the 7th Division to hold the line on the left bank whilst he once more concentrated on taking the Es Sinn position. To get at Es Sinn, he had first to eliminate a complex of Turkish trenches that were located at Bait Aisa and in front of Es Sinn. His attack would, of necessity, make best use of what dry ground was available, but the effect of that was to channel his troops into areas that the Turks had already identified as his approach routes.
The troops were, to a man, tired and hungry. Many of them were in failing health. They had been in constant action for several months and the losses had made it necessary to reorganise units into composite battalions. Regimental cohesion was duly lost and, when that went, high morale went with it. Officers did not know their men, nor indeed did they know their fellow officers. Five thousand replacements were en route from Basra, but they were ‘more jam tomorrow’ and their arrival time and date was unknown.
The planned attack was put on ‘hold’ when yet another and especially heavy thunderstorm made any sort of progress impossible. The gale force winds drove the river water over the bund and completely flooded the country between the river and Umm-al-Bahram. The guns were unable to move into position to support the attack.
Eventually, just before first light on 15 April and in the midst of a further storm, the trudge forward was initiated. The 7th and 9th brigades waded slowly towards an objective on the far side of a massive lake. The thunder and lightning that played over their heads affected the compasses in use and, in the dark, men waded purposefully to they knew not where. Some units moved in a complete circle. Only one battalion found and took its objective. Two days later, the brigades tried again to take Bait Aisa. Shrouded by mist, they reached the Turkish lines behind an artillery barrage with only slight casualties.
What followed was a rare and very welcome, albeit brief, success. The 1st/1st Gurkhas and 1st/9th Gurkhas did particularly well, and did fearful execution with their kukris. The Turks were caught off guard. Khalil recognised that this was a critical situation and launched an overwhelming counter-attack with 10,000 men. The Gurkhas, who had advanced well beyond their objective, were cut off and the headquarters of 7th Brigade was captured and then retaken. 13th Division moved forward in support and the British established a line. During the night, the Turks made a series of frontal assaults and 8th Brigade bore the brunt, especially the 59th Rifles and 47th Sikhs. The gunners fired over open sights and the riflemen expended an average of 400 rounds each. With the dawn it became clear that many of those rounds had found a target.
The Battle of Bait Aisa raged on for several days and the balance swayed either way. The irresistible force of legend had met the immovable object of the same legend. It was a bloody and savage affair.
The battlefield was thick with Turkish bodies; the enemy had suffered over 4,000 casualties, the British, 1,650. More Turks were killed in this engagement than in Sheikh Saad, the Wadi and Fallahiya combined.263 This was simply because, for a change, the Turks had been forced into an offensive. Despite their very heavy losses, the Turks still blocked the route to Kut and the relief of the garrison was looking more and more unlikely.
Gorringe was running out of ideas.
In London, patience with Duff and his Indian Army generals was running out.
In Kut, food was running out and men were now starving to death.
The result of all of this was that time too was running out.
It was evident to most of the participants that a disaster was imminent. The Turks had only to delay Gorringe to ensure the capitulation of Kut. In that garrison, by 18 April, life was very grim. In
addition, Moberly noted:
The weather was now becoming very hot in the daytime, and the glare of the sunlight, with dust outside the inundated areas, was very trying; and, in addition, all suffered greatly from the plague of flies, mosquitoes and sand flies. A Member of Parliament, who was in Mesopotamia at this period, describes in Mons, Anzac and Kut his experience of the flies. ‘Nothing that I have ever seen or dreamed of came up to the flies. They hatched out until they were almost the air. They were in myriads. The horses were half mad. The flies were mostly tiny. They rolled up in little balls when one passed one’s hand across one’s sweating face. They were on your eyelids and lashes and in your lips and nostrils. We could not speak for them and could hardly see.’264
Edward Mousley recorded in his diary the demise of his much-loved horse, and noted that, ‘Don Juan’ had taken his last hedge. Mousley had, up until this point, managed to extend his charger’s reprieve, but inevitably the order came. He gathered a last feed of grass for the horse, which salaamed most vigorously, as he had been taught. Mousley wrote:
I asked the NCO to be careful that his first bullet was effective and to tell me when it was over. I kissed Don on the cheek; he turned and watched me go. Shortly after they brought me his black tail … Strange as it may seem, we ate his heart and kidneys for dinner, as they are reserved for owners. I am sure he would have preferred that I, rather than another, should do so.265
Gorringe and his troops did not give up. For the next ten days there were continuous offensive operations, all conducted in thick mud, the consistency of porridge or treacle. Weapons were clogged with mud and movement was slow, but nothing inhibited the killing.
The resupply of the garrison was now vital. Desperate situations sometimes call for desperate measures, and in this case the plan was not only desperate but also wildly optimistic. The paddle steamer Julnar, commanded by Lieutenant H.O.B. Firman RN, was selected to make a dash upriver to deliver sustenance to the garrison. In Amara, Julnar was fitted with protective steel plates and sand bags were placed to afford protection. She was then fully loaded. This activity was noted by Arab observers, who passed on the intelligence to the Turks.
There were ample volunteers to man the vessel and twelve, unmarried, naval ratings volunteered to crew the vessel. Engineer Sub Lieutenant W.L. Reed RNR gave his services as Chief Engineer. Lieutenant Commander C.H. Cowley RNVR, who had previously commanded Mejidieh, took the post of pilot. Cowley had been born in Baghdad, spent much of his working life on the Tigris and been employed by the ‘Euphrates’ and ‘Tigris Navigation Company’. By dint of his birthplace he was considered, by the Turks, to be a Turkish subject. Charles Cowley realised that his life would be forfeit if he was captured but, nevertheless, he offered his services – this was particularly courageous, given the very hazardous nature of the mission.
The Tigris was at its height, sand banks were shifting and the 25-mile journey was to be made on the night of 24/25 April. It would not be easy as attempts to conceal the operation had failed. Nevertheless, in a vain attempt to confuse the Turks, all available artillery was brought into action as the ship, bearing 270 tons of supplies, slipped away in the dusk. The Turks were not at all confused; quite the reverse, they waited in ambush.
Julnar came under sustained fire as soon as she closed on the Turkish line. She passed through the Es Sinn line and was within 4 miles of Kut (8½ miles by river) at Magasis when she struck one of several steel hawsers that had been stretched diagonally across the river. She rode over the hawser, but it fouled her rudder and she was held fast.
62. This poor quality photograph is of particular interest as it is the last image of HMS Julnar as she set off on her final mission on 24 April 1916. (W. Nunn)
The ship was a sitting duck, subjected to a fierce bombardment at short range, and after being drenched with fire Julnar succumbed to a boarding party. The survivors of the crew were taken prisoner but Cowley was summarily murdered. Firman, who was killed in the bombardment, and Cowley were awarded the Victoria Cross. Members of the crew were also decorated for a gallant but failed team enterprise.
63. Lieutenant Commander C.H. Cowley VC RNVR, executed by the Turks on 25 April 1916. (E. Sherson)
64. Lieutenant H.O.B. Firman VC RN. (Internet source)
The attempt to succour the Kut garrison had failed, and in doing so it had signalled the end of the aggressive but very costly operations of the Tigris Corps. The Corps had stuck to its task from December 1915 until late April 1916. Tens of thousands of men had been killed or crippled and had suffered frightful privation in the process. ‘These men showed grit and determination of a quality as fine as any recorded in the annuls [sic] of the Army.’266 The MC concluded that, sadly:
There was great cause for anxiety in the state of the supplies of the relieving force. The Army was living from hand to mouth, a state of things to which the usual deficiency of transport largely contributed. … After sixteen days [of] continuous fighting not only against the Turks but against the floods, all hope of relieving Kut had to be given up. The losses had exceeded 33 per cent and were even greater in British officers, and the fighting efficiency of the force was seriously affected.267
All that remained was for the British to negotiate the best terms that Khalil would grant. Townshend obtained the blessing of General Sir Percy Lake, the Army Commander, to open discussions. Lake said optimistically, ‘With your prestige you are likely to get the best terms. We would of course supply food as you might arrange.’268 Townshend’s plan was to suggest to Khalil a six-day armistice, during which they could discuss terms and food could be supplied to the garrison. All troops were to hold their present position. In fact, as he recorded, ‘the result was that much against my will. On 26 April, I had to negotiate with Khalil Pasha knowing that I had not a biscuit up my sleeve to argue with, knowing that Khalil knew I was in extremis for food. Twenty men were now dying daily from starvation.’
Khalil had, of course, a clear view of conditions inside Kut from his informants and Townshend’s own recent insecure communiqué and he responded to Townshend’s approach that same day. Later, the two commanders, each in his own steam launch, met on the river ‘near the right flank of the Turkish entrenchments on the left bank’. Khalil was giving nothing away, and he had no need to. He declined all of Townshend’s gambits, but according to Townshend:
My personal liberty was offered on condition that I did not destroy guns and material, ammunition etc. Such conditions, of course, were impossible to accept. Khalil told me that I would be sent to Constantinople and treated with the same honour as Osman Pasha with whose defence of Plevna269 the Turks compared to mine of Kut. He said that I would be the honoured guest of the Turkish nation. My Force would be sent to Asia Minor to be interned in places in a good climate near the sea.
The final act was the occupation of Kut by Ottoman forces, which took place on 29 April when the Union flag was hauled down. Giving evidence to the MC, General Sir Percy Lake summarised the three main causes of failure. He determined that they were ‘premature attacks, inadequate transport and exceptionally unfavourable weather’.270 This was hardly original thought on Lake’s part. The last two of these factors were evident from the start of the campaign. One was never corrected and the other was predictable, God-given and unavoidable. As for ‘premature attacks’, Lake and the generals who served under him decided the timing of these operations. However, the MC did recognise that, like the curate’s egg of legend, it was not all bad, and remarked:
This army had been put to a severe test, the 6th Division in particular. It had been almost continuously fighting or marching or moving by water for the best part of a year. It had been repeatedly short of supplies and owing to its frequent movements had felt acutely the want of adequate river transport. Nevertheless it had performed feats of fighting and endurance of which any army could be proud. The part of the advance called by the troops Townshend’s regatta was an astounding piece of work.
The Tigris Corps cou
ld do no more; the survivors had some respite but they were few in number. Twenty-three thousand casualties had been suffered since relief operations had started. 2nd Black Watch was reduced to forty-eight strong out of 842; 6th Jats, fifty of 825; 125th Rifles, eighty-eight of 840; and 1st Seaforths, 102 of 926. This was the bitter taste of defeat.
From September 1914 until May 1916, fourteen Victoria Crosses had been awarded. Tellingly, eight of these were won in April 1916 alone – all in the frantic attempts to relieve Kut, and perhaps a measure of the intensity of the fighting.
In Kut, when all were mustered, the garrison was composed of:
277 British officers
204 Indian officers
2,592 British rank and file
6,988 Indian rank and file
3,248 Indian camp followers.
This totals 13,309. However, in addition there were 1,450 sick and wounded, and of these, the worse cases, that is to say 1,136, were exchanged and despatched downriver. About three months later, the Turks released a further 345 being held in Baghdad.
During the siege, total casualties had been 3,776, of whom 1,513 had been killed by enemy action, 721 had died of disease and 1,958 had been wounded. Seventy-two men were ‘missing’; some of these were from 67th Punjabis who fell at the bridge on 9 December 1915. The unmeasured balance were deserters.271