by Peter Hart
In total these resources provided an excellent picture of the Gallipoli Peninsula and its possible landing places. This layer of detail was then supplemented by further intelligence reports from a variety of sources on the strength of the Turkish forces at Gallipoli. There were also personal observations carried out from the sea augmented by a series of beautifully drawn panoramas of landing sites which were duplicated and made available. Finally, there were the efforts of 3 Squadron, Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS), who were able use their aircraft to conduct a series of pioneering photographic reconnaissance missions which recorded with considerable accuracy the locations and ongoing changes in the Turkish defensive dispositions. Whatever Hamilton might claim, the information he required to make his plans was available; the more relevant question was how would he use it?
Right at the start of the belated planning process one decision that had already been provisionally taken by Birdwood was swiftly endorsed by Hamilton and his Chief of Staff, Major General Walter Braithwaite: they would eschew the amateur strategist’s favourite ploy – and indeed Liman’s main fear – of landing at Bulair. As far as Hamilton was concerned there were several flaws to this superficially attractive idea. Firstly, any landing would have to be on the northern, or Constantinople, side of the Turkish defence lines across the isthmus. These trenches and forts dated back to the Crimean War, but had recently been modernised by the Turks. Furthermore, any troops landing there would be vulnerable to attack from both sides. Secondly, the occupation of these lines would not cut off Turkish supplies and reinforcements to the Peninsula as their sea routes would be unaffected. Thirdly, Bulair was nowhere near the Narrows. Fourthly, the increased distance from the only feasible base at Mudros would have stretched an already strained line of communications to breaking point. Finally, and not insignificantly, there was the presence of the two Turkish divisions specifically placed there by Liman to thwart any such landing.
The British High Command also decided to abandon the option of serious operations on the Asiatic side of the Straits. Opinions as to the feasibility of such operations were mixed. While some thought that the openness of the ground would offer relative freedom of manoeuvre (impossible on the cramped Gallipoli Peninsula), others feared that the expeditionary force would be exposed to full-scale continental operations once the Turks mobilised their forces. As the Allies advanced towards Chanak and their objectives they would be leaving their right flank and communications terribly exposed to counter-attack. In any case, Hamilton had been advised by Kitchener that no such operation should be attempted.
That left the Gallipoli Peninsula itself. A glance at any map would reveal that domination of the Straits meant that the Kilid Bahr Plateau immediately behind the European forts would have to be secured to achieve Hamilton’s aims. There were several obvious-looking landing beaches, but they all had some disadvantages. Suvla Bay was lightly guarded, but the line of march would entail crossing, or passing either side of, the Sari Bair range, rising to 971 feet. Hamilton also knew that there were strong Turkish forces in the Boghali area which could intercept the British well before they neared Kilid Bahr. A far better proposition was Gaba Tepe. This was where Hamilton determined to strike, making a night landing of the ANZAC Corps on the beaches north of Gaba Tepe, which were not yet well defended. Although to secure their beachhead the covering force would also have to gain a measure of control of the Sari Bair range, they would have every opportunity to do so before the Turkish reserves could arrive. The main force could then push on to seize the conically shaped Mal Tepe hill feature before launching an attack on Kilid Bahr itself the next day.
I would like to land my whole force in one – like a hammer stroke – with the fullest violence of its mass effect – as close as I can to my objective, the Kilid Bahr plateau. But, apart from the lack of small craft, the thing cannot be done; the beach space is so cramped that the men and their stores could not be put ashore. I have to separate my forces and the effect of momentum, which cannot be produced by cohesion, must be reproduced by the simultaneous nature of the movement.11
General Sir Ian Hamilton, Headquarters, MEF
This was to prove a fatal decision, the logic of which is debatable. There were many beaches stretching out on either side of Gaba Tepe and down towards Suvla which could have been used, once the covering force had secured the landing areas. Most or all of Hamilton’s MEF could have been landed here for a concerted push on Kilid Bahr – this would have been the real hammer stroke. However, Hamilton also resolved to divide his force and make a series of supposedly coordinated landings all round the Helles tip of the Peninsula. Here, although the likely main landing beaches were well guarded by the Turks, it was felt that the navy would be able to pour in supporting fire from all three sides, pounding the Turks into a state of submission. The main beaches identified were V Beach, in front of the Sedd el Bahr fort and village, and W Beach, further round the Helles Cape. Hamilton also planned surprise subsidiary flanking assaults at the less likely landing points of X Beach, near W Beach, and S Beach in Morto Bay, just below De Tott’s Battery. Hamilton also decided to place a force on the isolated Y Beach at the bottom of a very steep gully further up the western side of the Peninsula between the Turkish forward positions and their local reserves, with the intention of breaking their communications. These multifarious Helles operations would be the responsibility of the 29th Division augmented by the Plymouth Battalion of the RND. Their ambitious timetable involved the capture of the dominating height of Achi Baba behind the small village of Krithia by dusk on the first day, followed by a determined push next day in concert with the ANZAC Corps to sweep the Turks from Kilid Bahr. To counter the possible impact of the Turkish Asiatic batteries firing into the back of the landing forces at S and V Beaches it was decided to land a French force at Kum Kale, which would have the additional advantage of confusing the Turkish High Command as to whether the landing was real or not. Finally, Hamilton also approved diversionary operations without any actual landings by the French off Besika Bay and by the RND in the Gulf of Saros to threaten the Bulair Lines.
It is often thought that the only role of the Royal Navy in the operation was to carry out and support the landings. This was of course true on the first two days, but on the third day, with Kilid Bahr having been captured, the intention was to launch a naval attack to finally crash through the Narrows. The navy would also immediately begin a submarine campaign. On 25 April the AE2 submarine managed to break through the Straits’ underwater defences and into the Sea of Marmara. From then on the navy was able to maintain a strong presence behind the Turkish lines. Classic commerce raiding operations were used to disrupt Turkish sea routes to such an extent that by June 1915 most of the larger ships had all but disappeared and resupply was left to the ferries and small sailing craft. Eventually the Turks considered it far too dangerous to transport troops by sea. This forced them to use their land routes, which were in a shocking state of disrepair. Reinforcement units were brought as far as was possible by rail to then face a tiring three-day march on primitive roads before they even got to the Peninsula. Supplies and munitions had to be painstakingly brought in in small loads by pack animals and carts. Although the sea communications were never actually severed, the Allies’ submarine operations would form a continual harassing backdrop for the Turks throughout the whole campaign.
Unfortunately, in drawing up his plans for the landings, Hamilton cast aside any slim opportunities that were set before him. Instead of forming a cohesive focused plan and sticking to it, he adopted, at least in part, almost every option on offer. He needlessly overcomplicated everything: like a sentence bespattered with clauses, subclauses and tangential meandering syntax, his plan layered main landings, support landings, diversionary landings and distracting demonstrations one upon the other. He had intended to confuse Liman to prevent him from concentrating the Turkish forces against the landings, but in doing so he failed to concentrate his own forces, which left them vulnerable to
defeat in detail, thus mirroring the mistakes of his masters in London. The operations were also predicated on a belief that once the British came ashore the Turks would cut and run. They were not regarded as a ‘European enemy’ in the terminology of the time; like many senior British Army officers at the time, he underestimated his enemy and felt he could take risks that he would not have attempted against the German Army.
Many of his divisional commanders, however, were worried by the scale of the Turkish defences, the numbers of Turkish troops available, the hostile terrain and their own lack of reserves. Of these the most forthright was Major General Aylmer Hunter-Weston, commander of the 29th Division responsible for the Helles landings. Born in 1864, Hunter-Weston had been commissioned into the Royal Engineers and had seen active service and been wounded on the North-west Frontier of India. Subsequently, like so many of the senior officers at Gallipoli, he had served on Kitchener’s staff, in 1896 before service during the Boer War. The usual round of staff postings had followed and he had commanded the 11th Brigade on the Western Front in 1914 before his late appointment on 13 March 1915 to the command of the 29th Division. Although often caricatured as a fool by critics unable to see beyond his bristling manner and imposing military moustache, Hunter-Weston fully recognised the scale of the problems that faced his division. After reviewing the reports of Turkish defensive preparations and the MEF’s artillery weakness he considered it likely that they would end up stuck in an extended line across the Peninsula in front of the Kilid Bahr trenches, at which point they would be, in his delightful phrase, ‘Up a tree!’12
No loss would be too heavy and no risks too great if thereby success would be attained. But there is not in present circumstances a reasonable chance of success. The return of the expedition when it has gone so far will cause discontent, much talk, and some laughter; but it will not do irreparable harm to our cause, whereas to attempt a landing and fail to secure a passage through the Dardanelles would be a disaster to the Empire. The threat of invasion by the Allies is evidently having considerable effect on the Balkan States. It is therefore advisable to continue our preparations; to train our troops for landing, and to get our expedition properly equipped and organised for this difficult operation of war; so as to be ready to take advantage of any opportunity for successful action that may occur. But I would repeat; no action should be taken unless it has been carefully thought out in all its possibilities and details and unless there is a reasonable probability of success.13
Major General Aylmer Hunter-Weston, Headquarters, 29th Division
Unhappily for their men, if one thing was certain in the British Army of 1915, it was that when put under pressure the ‘can do’ mentality would surface among senior officers. They would buckle to, make the best of a bad situation and muddle through. Hunter-Weston swallowed his doubts and determined to overcome the challenges. He was not alone. When further coastal reconnaissance revealed what was facing them at Helles, Brigadier General Steuart Hare remained undaunted, even though he was commanding the 86th Brigade who would be the first ashore.
They have made it very strong all round the extreme end but I don’t see how they can hold it in the face of the bombardment. Here the sailors will be shooting at what they can see. I do not anticipate much opposition to the actual landing except from long range artillery fire. It will be in our further advance that we shall catch it.14
Brigadier General Steuart Hare, Headquarters, 86th Brigade, 29th Division
The main Helles landings would be made in daylight, as Hunter-Weston was vehemently against landing at night in uncharted waters with possible strong currents, and feared the confusion that might result. Hamilton favoured a night landing, as at Anzac, but deferred to his subordinate, whom he considered had the executive responsibility and must therefore be allowed to take the key decisions.
The apparent confidence of Hamilton and his senior staff utterly bemused some of their subordinates when they realised what was to be attempted. The results of recent aerial and naval reconnaissances seem to have been ignored, to the chagrin of those who had spent considerable time collecting that intelligence.
During the past few weeks we were instructed to show on the chart of the peninsula all places where landing was deemed to be difficult or impossible owing either to defensive measures by the Turks or the unsatisfactory character of the beach, including exposure to bad weather. This was completed and forwarded through the usual channels. We received the operation order for the landing and were amazed to find that the Army had decided to land at nearly all the places which we had reported as being either difficult or impossible. So I was convinced that if the landing was successful it would only be at the expense of very heavy casualties.15
Lieutenant Geoffrey Ryland, HMS Ark Royal
This choice of landing sites already identified as well defended is best exemplified by the choice of V Beach where there were trenches and lines of barbed wire. Given that the only method of landing was from open rowing boats towed in lines by steam launches, the likely problems were evident. Two weeks before the landings a staff meeting was held aboard the Arcadian to discuss the plans. Attending this meeting in a minor capacity was Commander Edward Unwin, a sailor with considerable experience in both the Merchant Marine and the Royal Navy. Although he had retired in 1909, he had been recalled on the outbreak of war and was placed in command of the Hussar, an old torpedo boat which had been converted to act as a communications yacht for the Eastern Mediterranean Squadron. Unwin arrived at the meeting with an open mind, but what he heard of the formidable nature of the Turkish beach defences at V Beach both concerned and inspired him. He was not a man to hold back when an idea occurred to him.
It seemed to me that if the beach was properly defended by an enemy at only 200 yards, who reserved their fire till the boats were about 100 yards from the beach, not many would get ashore. I said, ‘My idea would be to land the men in a specially prepared ship, right on the beach.’16
Commander Edward Unwin, HMS Hussar
Unwin’s thinking was straightforward. The ship would carry in relative safety a large number of assault troops who could then be rushed ashore in a matter of moments, then the ship would be used as a makeshift forward base, giving support fire to the attack while providing cover for command functions and shelter for the wounded. There was the additional advantage that it could carry huge quantities of ammunition, food and water and thereby act as a resupply depot in the days immediately following the landing.
Commander Unwin’s suggestion was seized upon and he himself was placed in command of the project, using men from the Hussar as crew. The ship selected to run aground at V Beach was the 4,000-ton collier the River Clyde. She was British built and owned but at the time was under charter to the French. Once the French military supplies had been unloaded a rapid conversion project was commenced. Midshipman George Drewry, also from the Hussar, was involved from the start.
He gave me thirty Greeks and told me to clean her. Well, she was the dirtiest ship I’ve seen. She was in ballast and had just brought French mules up from Algiers, they had built boxes and floors in the ’tween decks and carried the mules there without worrying about sanitary arrangements. We knocked the boxes up and cleaned her up for the troops.17
Midshipman George Drewry, River Clyde
Eight large holes were then cut in the sides of the ship, four on each side, at the level of the lower decks where the troops could be carried in relative safety and comfort. Drewry then rigged up planking stages stretching along both sides and thereby linking the exit ports to a platform at the bow.
Early on, Unwin realised that the River Clyde might run aground too far from the beach to allow for easy disembarkation. Arrangements were therefore made to tow alongside it a steam hopper and three additional lighters which would fill any gap between the River Clyde and the beach. Meanwhile it had also been decided to use the machine guns of the RNAS Armoured Car Division to provide a huge concentration of fire to cover the di
sembarkation and support the attack. Lieutenant Commander Josiah Wedgwood was soon busy carrying out his own vital modifications to the River Clyde.
We made casemates for our guns, and have also got eighteen motorcycles aboard so that we can run our guns, or other people’s ammunition, up to Krithia if all goes well. Today, this afternoon, 2,400 Munsters, Dublins and Hampshires come on board and conceal themselves in the holds of the Wooden Horse – we are in sight of the windy plains of Troy. In the ship’s sides great ports are cut. As soon as the crash comes and we grind ashore, these dragons’ teeth spring armed from the ports.18
Lieutenant Commander Josiah Wedgwood, No. 3 Squadron, Royal Naval Armoured Car Division
Wedgwood was not the only one to seize on the romantic affectation of regarding the River Clyde as a modern-day Trojan Horse being launched forth to bring doom to the Turkish defenders. For many officers who had enjoyed the benefits of a public school education, the story of the fall of Troy was very familiar. This was of little comfort to Unwin, who was finding his personal accountability for the success or failure of the V Beach landings beginning to weigh down on him.
I have never spent such a time in my life as I did before the landing, the awful responsibility, for I wasn’t just carrying out orders, but carrying through a scheme of my own in which if I failed the consequences might be awful. The thousands of thoughts that flash through one’s head at such a time as to what might happen and how to meet them. And on top of it all the wonder as to how one will behave one’s self, as I don’t believe any man is quite sure of himself.19
Commander Edward Unwin, River Clyde
