by Peter Hart
The 1st Division was commanded by Major General Sir William Bridges, who had been born in 1861 and raised in Britain and Canada before emigrating to Australia in 1879. His military career, which began in 1886, included brief service in the Boer War, and periods as the Chief of General Staff and as the Australian representative on the Committee of Imperial Defence in London. Nevertheless, he was perhaps best known as the first commandant of the Royal Military College of Australia at Duntroon from 1911 to 1914. The Australians did not have the strength to raise two divisions so early in the war and, as New Zealand had the same problems in raising a whole division, the formation of the combined New Zealand & Australian Division (NZ&A Division) was an excellent compromise. Initially made up of just the New Zealand Brigade, and the 4th Australian Brigade, it would be commanded by Major General Alexander Godley, a British career officer who had served with the British Army until Kitchener had sent him specifically to command the embryonic New Zealand Defence Forces in 1911. At this stage New Zealand lacked a strong national identity and was essentially a collection of provinces with prominently local allegiances; however, there was still an eager response to the call for volunteers. Like the Australians, many New Zealanders, buoyed up by their passion for outdoor pursuits and sporting activities, thought of themselves as natural soldiers. But they still had much to learn as training began to create the four infantry battalions of the New Zealand Brigade and the corresponding mounted rifles regiments which would follow on later.
On 1 November the AIF and NZEF sailed for further training in Britain prior to their deployment on the Western Front. However, Britain declared war on Turkey while they were still at sea and it was decided to halt the divisions in Egypt, where they could help ensure the safety of the Suez Canal while completing their training locally. They disembarked at Alexandria on 3 December and set about a vigorous schedule, marching through the soft sands, digging trenches and carrying out mock attacks. They worked hard but they soon showed the capacity to play even harder if given the slightest of opportunities.
We had our first pay day on Christmas Eve and leave was general, and everybody went straight into Cairo. Our own party of four really disgraced ourselves, AWOL for three days, finally and very ignominiously dragged out of the Eden Palace Hotel in the early hours of the morning by the picket and made to walk it home and into the guard tent – with quite a lot of others I might add! I was spokesman before the C.O. and tried the excuse that it was Christmas. ‘Damn it man, it was Christmas for all of us, seven days confined to barracks and loss of pay!’ 4
Private George Scott, 4th (New South Wales) Battalion, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, AIF
The Australian (and to a far lesser extent, New Zealand) indiscipline is often seen as nothing more than typical ‘larrikin’ behaviour, but the more serious consequences were shown in numerous incidents of excessive drunkenness, high VD rates and nasty outbreaks of violence against the Egyptians and Military Police which culminated in the infamous ‘Battle of the Wozzer’ in the Haret al Wassir red light district of Cairo on 2 April. On 4 April the main body of the ANZAC Corps left Cairo sailing for the Mudros harbour at Lemnos Island. The 3rd Brigade, selected as the covering force for the landings, had already reached Lemnos back on 4 March.
As we steamed quietly to our anchorage we passed numerous British and French warships, battleships, cruisers, destroyers, submarines and store-ships. Being the fastest vessel ours was the first of the troopships to enter the harbour, the others coming in the afternoon and next morning. The harbour was an excellent haven of rest from the rather choppy seas outside, being practically surrounded by hills. The Island seemed mostly given to pasture and there was an absence of trees and bushes. Two or three small villages were in view, the houses looking very old, small and very close together, and in the following weeks we found that this was so, as we had the pleasure of marching through about six or seven different towns or villages. We were ashore nearly every day doing route marches, etc. The inhabitants of the island were nearly all Greek and seemed very hardy folk, quite the typical peasant. Pasture for sheep seemed the chief mode of making a living, and agricultural work was done in the real old-fashioned way, a wooden plough with oxen pulling, or perhaps a donkey and an ox paired. Business men of the place with a bit of push came to us with their wares, nuts, oranges, figs, hard-boiled eggs, and a white cheese which none of our fellows could stomach.5
Private Herbert Fildes, 12th (South & Western Australian and Tasmanian) Battalion, 3rd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF
Also completing their training in Cairo was the 42nd Division from East Lancashire. In September 1914 this had been the first territorial division to go overseas, its troops largely based in the old barracks of Cairo and Alexandria. They too were training hard in the desert but much of what they were taught was unrealistic or irrelevant.
Every day in Egypt our pattern of training was the same. A long gruelling march in the desert under the hot sun to build up our stamina. Then open-order skirmishing, each section in turn dashing forward some 50 to 100 yards, and their advance covered by the supporting fire of the other sections – lots of exhilarating blank cartridges being fired madly by us. Then finally a bugle call, a fixing of nice well polished and shiny bayonets on the end of our rifles and a dashing charge of glory-mad young boy-soldiers towards a mythical and non-existent enemy, who presumably fled terrified at the very sight of the legendary British bayonet. Then the bugle would sound the recall and we’d gather together again – like children do after an exciting picnic ‘tired but so happy’ – and take about half-an-hour’s rest before setting out for the tiring march back to barracks.6
Private Charles Watkins, 1/6th Lancashire Fusiliers, 125th Brigade, 42nd Division
While the 42nd Division was standing by as possible reserves for the MEF, the 29th Indian Brigade was also ready for deployment to Gallipoli if necessary.
The 29th Division was the last of the British regular divisions, created by recalling garrison troops from far-flung reaches of the British Empire. With its headquarters in Leamington Spa, it was only formed in January 1915, its constituent units spread liberally across the Midlands area. As a result there was a serious lack of brigade and divisional training, which must have impacted on the efficiency of staff work and communications within the division. This would indeed prove a problem when the division was flung into action just months later. Unaware of the tussles that surrounded their deployment, the troops sailed for Alexandria on 16 March. They then spent a considerable period disembarking and re-embarking in readiness for the proposed landings, before sailing for Mudros on 7 April. Although inexperienced in modern warfare and lacking in training as a combined unit, the 29th Division was a confident formation of soldiers excellently trained in individual military skills and it was regarded by Hamilton as the backbone of the MEF.
Although the French were not overly keen to get embroiled in the Gallipoli land operations they were none the less determined to keep an eye on the Middle East adventures of their allies. They therefore hurriedly created a new division from units left in the depots in France and North Africa. This was henceforth to be known as the 1st Division of the Corps Expéditionnaire d’Orient (CEO) and consisted of the Métropolitaine Brigade (the French 175th Régiment & 1st Régiment de Marche d’Afrique) and the Coloniale Brigade (the 4th Régiment Mixte Coloniale & 6th Régiment Mixte Coloniale). It was thus a cosmopolitan mixture of various French, Senegalese, Foreign Legion and Zouave battalions. Although hastily raised, the CEO was composed of well-trained troops, accustomed to the privations of soldiering and blessed with a full complement of artillery – largely, the much-admired rapid-firing 75mm guns. It should perhaps be equated to the 29th Division as regards military efficiency. In command was General Albert d’Amade, an officer who had already demonstrated his ability to work effectively with the British during the 1914 operations on the Western Front.
The French convoys from North Africa and Marseilles were brought together at Malta
where they also first encountered their allies. It would prove an emotional meeting.
The English cheered us! Frenzied ‘Hurrahs’ were exchanged by both sides. The ‘Marseillaise’ was sung by the English; we replied with ‘God Save the King’, the two anthems are frenetically applauded by one and all. A trumpet sounds; it is applauded. Then numerous trumpets and bass drums make an incomprehensible noise which we applauded anyway!7
Sergeant D’Arnaud Pomiro, 3rd Battalion, 175th Regiment, 1st (Métropolitaine) Brigade, 1st Division, CEO
Pushing on, they arrived at Mudros on 11 March. There the usual training was soon in full swing. It was noticeable that some of their more experienced veterans were not quite as cheerfully tolerant as the Australians in their dealings with the local Greeks. Private Cornelius Jean de Bruin noted his comrades’ abrupt reaction to a case of suspected profiteering.
We had now been without tobacco for a month and so a right royal welcome was accorded to an old Greek who turned up with a whole cartload of cigarettes. Guided by his native knowledge of the laws of supply and demand and in blissful ignorance of the ways of the Legion and the Système ‘D’, he expected to make his fortune. The price of the tobacco rose, so did the old Greek, who was lifted bodily and dropped splashingly into the harbour. The battalion enjoyed its first smoke for a month.8
Private Cornelius Jean de Bruin, Légion Étrangère, 1st Régiment de Marche d’Afrique, 1st (Métropolitaine) Brigade, 1st Division, CEO
The French made their base at Mudros, although in late March and early April most of the force was required to make the long detour to Alexandria to reorganise transports for the proposed landing.
The most unconventional of all the forces assigned was the Royal Naval Division (RND), a strange combination of barely trained troops with next to no artillery provision. It had been formed by Churchill as a useful home for the 20,000–30,000 Royal Navy reservists and eager new recruits who were excess to the fleet’s immediate requirements in 1914. They were originally intended for home defence or deployment to seize an advanced naval base as required. Although their military training had barely started they were flung into action to secure the Channel port of Antwerp in October 1914. Disaster ensued when nearly 1,500 troops of the 1st Naval Brigade strayed into the neutral Netherlands, where they were all promptly interned for the duration of the war. This has been satirised as the result of a minor confusion of port and starboard, but in truth the RND were simply not yet trained to a high enough standard. The rest returned to Britain where their training resumed and the ranks were replenished by further drafts.
The Plymouth and Chatham Battalions, RMLI, had been despatched to assist in the fleet operations against the Dardanelles forts in early February 1915. The main body followed at Churchill’s instigation towards the end of the month, bound for the eastern Mediterranean. At this stage there is no doubt that the RND officers were an eclectic bunch recruited from here, there and everywhere on the basis of possessing talents that were not specifically military. Most gilded, most gifted of all was Sub Lieutenant Rupert Brooke, who at 27 years old was already an acclaimed poet. Aboard a troopship in convoy, in his letters home Brooke showed an exaggerated sense of the classical romance of it all, while at the same time retaining a refreshing ability to laugh at himself and his literary predilections.
I’m filled with confident and glorious hopes. I’ve been looking at the maps. Do you think perhaps the fort on the Asiatic corner will need quelling, and we’ll land and come at it from behind, and they’ll make a sortie and meet us on the plains of Troy? It seems to me strategically so possible. Will Hero’s Tower crumble under the 15″ guns? Shall I loot mosaics from St Sophia and Turkish Delight and carpets? Should we be a turning point of history? Oh God! I’ve never been quite so happy in my life, I think. Not quite so pervasively happy; like a stream flowing entirely to one end. I suddenly realise that the ambition of my life has been – since I was two – to go on a military expedition against Constantinople. And when I thought I was hungry, or sleepy, or aching to write a poem – that was what I really, blindly wanted!9
Sub Lieutenant Rupert Brooke, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
Meanwhile, Sub Lieutenant Patrick Shaw-Stewart cheerfully welcomed the addition of Charles Lister, formerly of the British Embassy in Constantinople, to the officers of the Hood Battalion. Lister had given up on the world of diplomacy and, as he put it, ‘The date of my birth determines that I should take active service.’10
At Port Said Charles introduced himself by most subterranean methods into the Hood. He pulled as many strings to get off the staff as others to get on to it – and in about three days he had a platoon. The four subalterns of the company were then Charles, Rupert Brooke, Johnny Dodge and me. I had dysentery all the time at Port Said, so I missed the spectacle of Charles drilling stokers on Yeomanry lines – an entrancing one, I have been told. There is one particularly circumstantial story of how he marched a body of men on to the parade ground before the eyes of the Brigade, and in his resonant parade tone ordered them to halt in words more suited to the evolutions of quadrupeds. It became a very jolly family party on board ship.11
Sub Lieutenant Patrick Shaw-Stewart, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
There was a general laxity in disciplinary matters and a great pride in being different, which reflected the lack of proper military training among these officers. But they had brains, they had courage, and above all they were good company.
Our party goes on happily. Charles Lister is a great gain even to those who don’t understand him. He has the kindest heart imaginable, hasn’t he? We laughed a good deal over the divisional notes on the character of the Turks, particularly at one which said they did not like night attacks because they hated the dark and invariably slept with a night light. Charles parodied them inimitably.12
Lieutenant Denis Browne, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
While they were in Egypt, Rupert Brooke went down with an unfortunate combination of sunstroke and diarrhoea, but he was desperate to stay with his battalion.
While I shall be well, I think, for our first thrust into the fray, I shall be able to give my Turk, at the utmost, a kitten’s tap. A diet of arrowroot doesn’t build up violence. I am as weak as a pacifist.13
Sub Lieutenant Rupert Brooke, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
On 17 April the division arrived at the small Greek island of Skyros, where the men began a final series of exercises, practising landing drills and mad dashes into the hills. One significant skill possessed by the New Zealand officer Bernard Freyberg was noticed by Lister.
My Company Commander Freyberg was a superb swimmer and we on several occasions did long distance swims in very cold water. I was defeated on one occasion of a two-mile swim I had set myself in Freyberg’s company and came into the boat after a mile and a half in bitterly cold water, deep and blue as a turquoise, but as yet unyielding to the sun’s rays. It was the coldness of the water and the relative poorness of my circulation which beat me – not weariness of flesh or muscle.14
Lieutenant Charles Lister, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
Freyberg’s swimming abilities would be put to practical use in just a matter of days. For the most part these privileged young men had a rather admirable determination to do their best, and at the same time a growing realisation that they were no longer the centre of the universe. Lister, as ever, encapsulated it rather neatly.
I am every day happier at having left the Staff, and the sight of one’s own men lying down in line among the stones and scrub of these jolly hills warms the blood. I hope I shall be brave; I am sure they will.15
Lieutenant Charles Lister, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
Sadly, on 20 April, during the same exercises, Rupert Brooke succumbed to severe blood poisoning, apparently caused by an insect bite on his lip. His temperature rocketed and soon nothing could be done. He died on Friday, 23 April, and was buried by a grieving part
y of his friends in an olive grove high on the side of the island. They never forgot Brooke. When his friend Denis Browne passed Skyros en route to Gallipoli on 2 June, he wrote a rather sad little note.
We passed Rupert’s island at sunset. The sea and sky in the east were grey and misty, but it stood out in the west, black and immense, with a crimson glowing halo round it. Every colour had come into the sea and sky to do him honour, and it seemed that the island must ever be shining with this glory that we buried him there.16
Sub Lieutenant Denis Browne, Hood Battalion, 2nd Naval Brigade, RND
Poor Denis Browne would himself be killed just two days later in a hopeless attack on the Turkish lines. Few of that uniquely talented band of brothers from the RND would survive Gallipoli.
So it was that Hamilton’s army came together: troops from all over the world, thrown together with no planning or forethought, as symbolised by the packing of the transports with the various units broken up on different ships and their equipment randomly intertwined below decks. A diversion via the Egyptian ports was essential so they could sort themselves out in a more logical fashion. All this took time. With most of the men barely trained as individual soldiers, collectively they had no experience of working together in the higher military formations of battalions, brigades and divisions. Many of the divisions were short of the artillery that was so essential in the Great War; ammunition was terrifyingly scarce. Most of the senior commanders were inexperienced in modern warfare; their staff had little practical experience to enable them to deal with the appalling administrative, communication and logistical problems that would face them on a daily basis. This was a disaster waiting to happen.
PLANS: COUNTDOWN TO DISASTER
At once we turned our faces to the land scheme. Very sketchy; how could it be otherwise? On the German system plans for a landing on Gallipoli would have been in my pocket, up-to-date and worked out to a ball cartridge and a pail of water. By the British system (?) I have been obliged to concoct my own plans in a brace of shakes almost under fire. Strategically and tactically our method may have its merits, for though it piles everything on to one man, the Commander, yet he is the chap who has got to see it through. But, in matters of supply, transport, organisation and administration our way is the way of Colney Hatch.1
