From Ice Floes to Battlefields

by Anne Strathie

  I strayed about the deck, an hour, to-night

  Under a cloudy moonless sky; and peeped

  In at the windows, watched my friends at table,

  Or playing cards, or standing in the doorway,

  Or coming out into the darkness. Still

  No one could see me.

  A highlight of the week in Skyros was the all-ranks fancy dress ball: prizes were awarded for the best costumes – many of which had been fashioned from cabin curtains – and Kelly and Browne took turns at playing the saloon piano. Another evening Nelson took Kelly on at chess, but lost two games to one.11 When ships transporting other RND battalions arrived at Trebuki Bay, Johnnie Dodge, along with a group of officers and 300 stokers, returned to Lemnos to be trained on the tugs and trawlers which would ferry men from troop carriers to the beaches of the Gallipoli peninsula.

  On 20 April everyone joined in a divisional sports day. Brooke, who had been on watch the night before, was feeling tired, but took part in a few events. During a lull between races he, Browne, Shaw-Stewart and Lister went exploring and found a quiet little olive grove where they rested for a while. When it was time to leave the island Lister and Freyberg suggested they should all swim back to the ship, but Brooke did not feel up to joining them.

  The following morning Asquith and Lister found Brooke in his cabin, complaining of pains in his head and back; by now his upper lip was very swollen. Edward Marsh had recently sent Brooke a copy of The Times in which ‘The Soldier’, one of the poems Brooke had been working on at Blandford, had been published. Dean Inge of St Paul’s Cathedral had, it appeared, read it out during his Easter Sunday sermon:12

  If I should die, think only this of me:

  That there’s some corner of a foreign field

  That is for ever England. There shall be

  In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

  A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

  Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

  A body of England’s, breathing English air,

  Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

  And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

  A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

  Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

  Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

  And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

  In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

  ‘The Soldier’ had already, according to the article, been reviewed in The Times Literary Supplement after appearing in New Numbers, a poetry journal published by Brooke’s friends and fellow poets Lascelles Abercrombie and Wilfred Gibson. Brooke, who had visited them at their home in Dymock, Gloucestershire, after returning from North America, had sent them the poems before leaving Blandford in February.13

  On the Grantully Castle, Brooke’s friends were becoming concerned for his health. When William McCracken, Hood’s Medical Officer, examined Brooke he found his patient had a temperature of 101°F.14 McCracken ordered poultices to be applied to the swelling on Brooke’s lip, but when Brooke’s temperature continued to rise, he began considering the possibility of pneumonia, something he felt Brooke was in no state to resist. Over the next twenty-four hours, as Brooke lapsed in and out of consciousness, McCracken summoned additional medical assistance from Divisional HQ. Eventually Brooke’s temperature reached 104°F; by this time the swelling had spread across his face and when a bacteriologist took a swab he found there was infection in Brooke’s bloodstream. McCracken insisted, despite Brooke’s drowsy protests, that Brooke should be evacuated to the nearest hospital ship, which was the French Navy’s Duguy Trouin. Browne and Asquith went with him in the tender and returned in the evening with the news that Brooke was the only patient on the ship and was being well looked after, including by an English-speaking nurse.

  On the morning of 23 April (St George’s Day and Asquith’s 32nd birthday) Asquith and Browne returned to the Duguy Trouin, where French surgeons were operating on the now comatose Brooke in the hope of drawing out the infection which was poisoning his blood. But by 2 p.m. Brooke’s temperature had risen to 106°F. He died at 4.45 p.m. with his old schoolmate Denis Browne at his bedside. He was 27 years old.

  When Asquith returned to the hospital ship he told Browne that the Grantully Castle was due to leave for the Dardanelles at 5 a.m. the following morning.15 As Browne was sure that Brooke would not have wanted to be buried at sea, Freyberg, Browne, Lister and other members of the ‘Latin Club’ went over to Skyros and began digging a grave in the olive grove Brooke had enjoyed visiting three days earlier. By mid-evening everything was ready for the burial. Hood officers, seamen who would act as pall-bearers and Divisional and Brigade senior officers crossed to the Duguy Trouin on a pinnace to collect Brooke’s body and some French officers who would attend the ceremony. Brooke’s body had been dressed in full uniform; his coffin was covered by a Union Jack and topped by his pith helmet and holstered pistol. It was dark, but a lantern-bearer and a partially clouded half-moon lit the pathway up the rocky hillside to the grave. By 11 p.m. everyone had arrived at the grove.

  After the 1st Brigade’s Chaplain had performed the burial service, Shaw-Stewart ordered the guard of honour to fire a three-volley salute. The grave had been lined with flowering sage and sweet-smelling olive sprigs and marked by two white crosses. After the Last Post had been played, most of the funeral party made their way slowly down the rocky path, leaving Asquith, Browne, Kelly, Lister and Freyberg to cover the grave with lumps of pink and white marble they found lying around the grove.

  When Kelly returned to the ship he copied out the contents of Brooke’s notebook to cover against the eventuality of it going astray when it was sent back to England with his other effects.

  It had, everyone agreed, been a sad day, but Brooke was now lying in the ‘corner of a foreign field’ he had already envisaged in his mind’s eye.

  By 5.30 a.m. on 24 April the Grantully Castle was steaming towards Gallipoli. While the main body of troops landed on beaches in the south of the peninsula (between Sulva Bay and Cape Helles), Hood and other RND Battalions were to mount a series of feints and diversions in the north of the peninsula, in the hope of diverting the Turks’ attention and firepower. Quilter had considered several options in terms of Hood’s contribution to this effort but eventually agreed that Freyberg, the former champion swimmer, should go ashore alone under cover of darkness, create a diversion and spy out the land. Nelson was put in charge of a cutter which would keep track of Freyberg’s progress and, when he returned from his mission, help him out of the water and bring him back to the ship. The exercise would take place during the night of 25–26 April.

  Freyberg, protected from the cold and camouflaged by a thick layer of dark grease, jumped into Nelson’s cutter. By midnight, when they were about 2 miles offshore, he slipped into the water and began swimming to shore, dragging behind him a canvas bag-cum-raft loaded with flares, lights, a knife and a revolver.16 An hour later he clambered up the beach and lit his first flare. He returned to the water, swam along the shoreline and repeated the exercise. He hid in some bushes to see if there would be a reaction from the Turks, but none was forthcoming. He crept further inland and found some trenches which, on inspection, turned to be newly dug and empty. He started heading towards some lights on nearby hilltops, but could see no sign of movement. He returned to the beach, lit his final flare and waded back into the water with his raft.

  Around 3 a.m. Nelson, peering into the darkness, saw Freyberg swimming slowly in his direction, apparently suffering from cramp. Nelson brought the cutter over and hauled his exhausted commanding officer out of the water. After Nelson and Freyberg and others in the cutter had reboarded their ship, the Grantully Castle’s gunners made a ‘sweep’ of the shore, but there was no response from the hillsides.

  After being held offshore for several days Hood Battalion landed on the beaches below Cape Helles, on the sout
hern tip of the peninsula, on the night of 29 April.17 Under a full moon and clear sky, Nelson and his companions could see that the beach was strewn with bodies from earlier landings; as they moved up the beach constant fire from the heights made it impossible to help their own wounded or others who had been left behind by other units.

  By the beginning of May Hood Battalion had taken their place in the line of troops which stretched for miles on either side of the road leading to Krithia and Achi Baba, the main Turkish positions in the Cape Hellas sector. Prior to the Hood’s arrival a first attempt to take these positions had resulted in some 3,000 casualties.

  After Hood Battalion had ‘settled in’, Kelly, Lister and Browne went on a reconnaissance; on their return they reported that the countryside was pretty and covered with small orchards, wild flowers and herbs.

  On 4 May Hood embarked on a major ‘push’ across a 400yd front during which, it was hoped, they would advance 2,000yds. The plan was then for them to hold their position while other British and French units swept past them and surrounded Achi Baba and Krithia. By 6 May, following some apparent miscommunication with French troops on their flank, Hood companies found themselves too far ahead of the overall line. As the Turks opened fire on their unprotected flanks Kelly and his platoon became isolated but after he found Nelson and his men they consolidated and dug in together.18 They spent that night and the following day and night under heavy fire before finally being relieved early on 8 May.

  When Nelson and Kelly returned to their original line they learned that Quilter, their popular and well-respected Commander, had been killed in the advance, Freyberg had been shot in the stomach, Asquith had received a bullet wound in the knee and Dodge had been shot in both arms. Lister had also been wounded and Browne had been shot by a sniper after the battle. Shaw-Stewart had enjoyed a lucky escape when a bullet bounced off the Asprey’s mirror he carried in his breast pocket.19

  Over a few days Hood’s fighting strength had been reduced from thirty officers and 800 men to ten officers and under 400 men. The next few days were spent tending to injured men and carrying them down to the beaches, from where they would be taken to hospital ships or evacuated to hospital in Egypt. During the post-battle lull a Hood officer summarised the sorry state of some fellow officers in verse:20

  A is for Asquith, Arthur or ‘Oc’,

  Who’s winged by a bullet just now and a crock.

  B is for Burnett, a scout bred and born;

  Both bullets and snipers he treats with mere scorn.

  C stands for Chalmers, who grouses all day,

  But works like a Trojan, as all of us say.

  D denotes Daglish, who’s positive quite,

  That one’s view’s either wrong, or else perfectly right.

  Egerton’s E, and my very good friend,

  Who has read through this trash and helped me no end.

  F is for Fergie, and Freyberg as well,

  Both jolly good fellows, but different as h**l.

  Graham is G, or adjutant really:

  His arm’s in a sling and he’s doing but queerly.

  H is for Hedderwick, Hood and the rest

  Who’ve been into action and well stood the test.

  I’s for ideas that we all of us hold,

  That to get through the straits would be better than gold.

  J stands for Johnny [Dodge], unselfish and kind;

  He’s hit in both arms, but pretends he don’t mind.

  K stands for Kelly, that oarsman of fame,

  Who’s now lending a hand at a different game.

  L is the line of the trenches we hold:

  Hot and dusty all day – at night terribly cold.

  M stands for Maxim [gun], with Martin and crew;

  Without their stout help, I don’t know what we’d do.

  Nobb knows the drill-book from first page to last,

  While Nelson at scouting cannot be surpassed.

  O is the orders that must be obeyed,

  Though one’s dying for sleep and one’s nerves are all frayed.

  P is for Parsons, as calm as can be,

  Though I fancy he’d rather be fighting at sea.

  Q is for Quilter – he’s now laid to rest:

  A leader of men, he was one of the best.

  R for recruits who have stuck it A1,

  And are proving a thorn in the flesh of the Hun.

  Shaw-Stewart and Shadbolt both start with an S;

  One excels at finance, and the other at chess.

  T is for Trimmer, who’s hit in the head;

  He’s now convalescent, but ought to be dead.

  U is unselfishness shown by our Doc [McCracken];

  He’s one in a million and stands like a rock.

  V’s for these verses – they’re awful, it’s true;

  But I’m not a born poet – that’s evident too!

  Waller is W, small but replete

  With good stories and jests from his head to his feet.

  For X, Y and Z there are no words I know

  That fit into this rhyme, so I’ll just let them go.

  By the end of May nearly half a mile had been gained for ‘only’ fifty casualties and in early June reinforcements arrived in the shape of the ‘new’ (post-Antwerp) Hawke, Benbow and Collingwood Battalions. Freyberg’s younger brother Oscar, who had recently joined Collingwood, found that his elder brother had just been evacuated to Egypt for hospital treatment.21

  On 4 June, Hood and other RND battalions took part in another major advance on Krithia and Achi Baba.22 By 8.15 a.m., following a preliminary bombardment, Hood’s company commanders prepared to give the order to advance. Parsons (who had taken over ‘B’ Company from the injured Asquith) climbed up a short ladder propped against his trench wall and asked his men if they were ready. Within minutes of shouting ‘Come on, then, follow me!’, he and a large number of his men were killed by a volley of Turkish rapid rifle and machine-gun fire. Hood men who made it through the hail of Turkish bullets to the front-line Turkish trenches found that their bombardment had done its work, but they and RND battalions who followed in their wake were also cut down in their droves.

  By 3 p.m. the remnants of Hood, Howe and Collingwood were being withdrawn from battle. Collingwood had been virtually wiped out and Hood had lost another twelve officers and about 300 men. Denis Browne had reached the Turkish trenches, where he bayoneted two soldiers before being mortally wounded by two bullets, one of which drove his belt-buckle into his body. Johnny Dodge and Maurice Hood were also killed, as was Lieutenant-Colonel Crawford-Stuart, Quilter’s replacement.23 Kelly, Hedderwick and Surgeon McCracken had all been injured.

  After the battle Edward Nelson was promoted to Lieutenant-Commander and put in temporary command of Hood Battalion, a position he would, snipers permitting, retain until Freyberg returned from hospital in Egypt.

  Freyberg returned the following week and resumed command of Hood Battalion. In Egypt he had learned that he had been awarded a Distinguished Service Order in recognition of his midnight swim; now he was told that his brother and many of his Hood friends had died on the third unsuccessful attack on Krithia. He also brought news of events in Britain: Asquith’s father, the prime minister, was now the leader of a wartime coalition government, which included Lord Kitchener and representatives of the Labour and Unionist parties. Churchill had, following criticism of his handling of the Gallipoli campaign, been moved from the post of First Lord of the Admiralty to the less important role of Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster. Some of Brooke’s poems, including ‘The Soldier’ and other poems he had worked on at Blandford, had recently been published in London in a volume entitled 1914, which was selling so well that it was being reprinted.

  By the middle of July, Asquith, Kelly, Egerton and most of the other injured Hood officers were back. Hood was not involved in any major offensives during July, but on 20 July Freyberg was again badly wounded in the stomach and invalided out. Nelson was once more in command of Hoo
d Battalion. By August the heat was intense, flies were everywhere and water was in short supply – a situation exacerbated by the poison the Turks had poured down some wells near British positions. More men were now falling prey to dysentery than to Turkish bullets or shells.

  Freyberg returned from Egypt in mid-August to resume command of Hood. Towards the end of the month Brooke’s friend Charles Lister was injured by shellfire (for the third time); he was evacuated to a hospital ship but died of his wounds a few days later and was buried on Lemnos.

  By now most of the RND battalions were well below fighting strength and, weakened by injury and disease, only able to hold defensive positions. As summer heat gave way to autumn gales and rain, Edward Nelson succumbed to jaundice and was evacuated to hospital ship Harapar. That month his wife Violet gave birth to their first child, a daughter.

  In mid-November Lord Kitchener came to Gallipoli to review the situation. In the weeks following his visit the Allies’ landing piers were almost destroyed by gales and storms. As temperatures plunged below freezing and lashing rain turned to blizzards, men (who were still sleeping in the open) began suffering from exposure and frostbite.

  On the night of 18 December 1915 the evacuation from Gallipoli began.

  Notes

  1. Freyberg, chapters 2 to 4.

  2. Marsh (Rupert Brooke, p. cxxxi) provides Brooke’s impressions of fellow officers, including Freyberg.

  3. Hedderwick was a distant cousin of Ethel (‘Maynie’) Hedderwick (see chapter 13).

  4. The ‘Coterie’ also included offspring of the ‘Souls’, a group of intellectuals and politicians which included the prime minister’s second wife (and Arthur Asquith’s step-mother), Margot Asquith.

  5. Quoted in Sellers, Hood Battalion, pp. 37–8.

  6. Hassall, Rupert Brooke, p. 493.