Gallipoli

by Peter Hart

  Try to imagine that long column of silent men stealthily making its way through the black night, not knowing what was to happen next! Every bayonet was wrapped in hessian to obviate glint, every nerve was tense through the uncertainty. Overhead were the searchlights of the destroyer – the shafts of light did not appear to be more than 20 feet above our heads – and the illuminated heights were being subjected to a terrific fire from the Colne’s guns. Under this the brigade wriggled along like a huge snake until a right-wheel took us into the blackest of valleys, surrounded by steep, rugged hills covered with prickly bushes.20

  Lieutenant Hubert Ford, 13th (New South Wales) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  A night march over unfamiliar ground under constant fear of attack by the Turks was a true test of their nerve.

  The regiments in front never waited for us, not giving one time to collect the men, and I had to go off on my own. After half an hour of deadly funk as to where I was, I ran into the rest of the column halted. It was now 12.15 midnight and we were two hours behind our programme time. There was a feeling of panic and doubt in the air as to where we were and where we were going. It was a pitch black night. Suddenly I heard a rush in front – I thought it was the Turks and drew my revolver – and was almost at the same moment knocked down. Dallas behind me fixed bayonets and stopped the rush. It was only a panic of a few men in the regiment in front.21

  Major Cecil Allanson, 1/6th Gurkha Rifles, 29th Indian Brigade

  The Australian 4th Brigade had been at Gallipoli since 25 April and were now highly experienced soldiers, but at Gallipoli that meant that they were also riddled with dysentery and in an enfeebled state. As the long march dragged on they fell further and further behind the optimistic predictions of their progress. Constant halts by the head of the column to check the route made the line concertina wildly behind them and at times the overall pace was almost funereal. This was exacerbated when the local Greek guide took them on a disastrous ‘short cut’ through Taylor’s Gap between Bauchop’s Hill and Walden Point. The scrub-filled gully narrowed, allowing only single file, and, harassed by Turkish sniper fire, the Australian columns slowed almost to a halt. It took three hours for them to get through the 600 yards of Taylor’s Gap before they finally arrived at Aghyl Dere at about 02.00. According to the plan, the 4th Brigade was to climb up Abdul Rahman to Hill 971 while the 29th Indian Brigade headed south towards Hill Q. Increasingly disorientated and still plagued by Turkish marksmen, the 4th Brigade found that in the dark one ridge looked much like another. Soon they were totally lost. Eventually they thought they had reached Abdul Rahman Ridge, but they were in fact on a continuation of Damakjelik Bair. Hill 971 was a very long way off, much of it a steep climb. To reach it that night would be a physical impossibility for the exhausted troops. Monash became convinced that they could do nothing more and ordered a halt at daylight. Behind him the 29th Indian Brigade was not doing any better. It too had got lost in Aghyl Dere and, although the battalions had moved up various likely looking spurs, they were still well below their objective of Hill Q. But where were the New Zealanders?

  The New Zealand Brigade, commanded by Brigadier General Francis Johnston, had not had so far to travel and on the map their task looked deceptively simple: the Canterbury Battalion was to push up Sazli Beit Dere while the Otago, Wellington and Auckland Battalions moved up Chailak Dere. All four battalions were to rendezvous on Rhododendron Ridge between 01.00 and 02.00, at which point they would make the final thrust up the ridge and on to Chunuk Bair ready to attack down Battleship Hill towards The Nek. But the terrain was horrendous. The gullies, so innocent-looking on a map, were totally confusing in the dark. Which was the main course? Which was the best route by which to climb out on to the right ridge? They were surrounded by ridges! There were no signposts and the guides were equally disorientated. Here again delays doubled and redoubled, but at last the Wellington Battalion managed to get out past Table Top and up on to Rhododendron Ridge itself from about 04.30. They were already badly behind schedule. But then Johnston made the fateful decision to wait until his whole force was assembled. The Canterbury Battalion had not yet emerged from Sazli Beit Dere.

  After we had been advancing some hours I was astounded to get a message from Stewart that the guides had lost their way. Here was a dilemma, the whole success of the push depended on us doing our job on time. I was up against it and on my own, having to decide quickly. To obey orders and occupy the hills, I thought would do no good to anyone. I felt also that the tail of my battalion, where the machine guns were, must be far in the rear, as we had been moving, practically in single file, owing to the narrow ravine, for some hours and it’s easy to lose touch in the dark. Therefore, to give the order to occupy the hills, would, I felt sure, leave my men thinly extended over much country and easily mopped up by the enemy at daylight. I decided to disobey orders and take the battalion back to the beach, and so save it intact to fight another day. I knew I would be broken for it and thought of the disgrace to my family in New Zealand, but felt it was the only way to save the men. I gave the order to retire. At the spot where I had halted, the ravine was so narrow that the advance guard, now the rear guard, had to pass me in single file.22

  Lieutenant Colonel Jack Gethin Hughes, Canterbury Battalion, New Zealand Brigade, NZ&A Division, NZEF

  Hughes’ decision would not have mattered much if Johnston had not sat still with his three battalions vainly waiting for the Canterbury Battalion to appear. Johnston had serious health problems (which are alleged to have included alcoholism) but this was a criminal neglect of his responsibilities as clearly laid out in Birdwood’s orders: he was not to wait on delays but must push on, regardless of the size of his force, to capture Chunuk Bair before dawn and then press down through Battleship Hill before 04.30, when the 3rd Light Horse Brigade were due to attack across The Nek. It may have been that they were already too late and it certainly seems that the influential Malone, the most senior of Johnston’s battalion commanders, was against pushing on regardless. However, there was considerable personal animosity among the senior staff of the New Zealand Brigade, so no clear picture emerges from their accounts by which posterity can apportion the blame.23 Whoever’s fault it was, they did not resume their advance until 06.30.

  This loss of time would prove crucial, as the Lone Pine diversion had only been partially successful. It had succeeded gloriously in sucking in the local reserves of the 5th Division, located around Kojadere village behind Gun Ridge, and away from Chunuk Bair. But the very success of the Lone Pine attack had caused the 9th Division, commanded by Colonel Hans Kannengiesser, to be despatched from further south and, when the dangers threatening Chunuk Bair became clear, the Turkish High Command merely ordered them to keep marching up to the Sari Bair heights. Thanks to Johnston’s dilatory performance, Kannengiesser reached the summit of Chunuk Bair at 07.00, from which he could look down on groups of New Zealanders moving to occupy the Apex some 500 yards away.

  The English approached slowly, in single file, splendidly equipped and with white bands on their left arms, apparently very tired, and were crossing a hillside to our flank, emerging in continually increasing numbers from the valley below. I immediately sent an order to my infantry – this was the twenty-strong artillery-covering platoon – instantly to open fire. I received this answer, ‘We can only commence to fire when we receive the order of our battalion commander!’ This was too much for me altogether. I ran to the spot and threw myself among the troops who were lying in a small trench. What I said I cannot recollect, but they began to open fire and almost immediately the English laid down without answering our fire or apparently moving in any other way. They gave me the impression that they were glad to be spared further climbing.24

  Colonel Hans Kannengiesser, Headquarters, 9th Division, Fifth Army

  At about 08.00 Johnston held a further meeting with his senior commanders. It seems that Malone again urged caution, fearing the consequences of an isolated attack
in daylight on such a strong position. This led to yet more delay as the New Zealanders consolidated their positions at the Apex instead of pushing up Rhododendron Ridge to Chunuk Bair. Yet as every minute ticked by more of Kannengiesser’s men were reaching the crucial spot and adding their weight to the defending force. When this decision was communicated to Major General Alexander Godley, commanding the NZ&A Division, he was furious at the hold-up and ordered an attack at once on Chunuk Bair. At last Johnston acted, but perversely, given all the problems caused by waiting for the Canterbury Battalion, he sent just one battalion – the Auckland Battalion – into the assault, accompanied by two companies of the 2/10th Gurkhas who were in effect stragglers from the 29th Indian Brigade Column further north. They attacked at 10.30. But by this time there were approximately 500 Turks waiting for them on the summit.

  Another short climb and we were halted and lined up in three or more rows, bayonets fixed. Here we waited. To one end stood the Brigadier, casually swinging his stick and gazing around. Finally he glanced at his wristwatch and gave a blast on his whistle, ‘Go along, Colonel, lead your men and charge!’ The first line swept up and over, and the Turks, who up to then had been practically silent, let loose a murderous hail. A few survived that withering blast and ran on, over the rough sloping hillside. The second row went and then followed the remainder. Where we were going, God only knew, we didn’t! A trench was the objective, but it was no time to stop and take bearings. There seemed to be no covering fire and the enemy did as he liked. Finally, three of us plunged to earth in a shallow depression which afforded just sufficient cover and none to spare. Each move brought a burst of machine gun bullets. After a very careful survey of the surrounding few yards, the trench was spotted some 40 feet ahead. A wild spring and a rush, and two reached it and jumped in. The parapet being on the wrong side for us, the Turkish bullets hailed along the stones, but willing hands dragged us down. The trench, only about four feet deep, had been empty and was under the complete control of the Turks higher up.25

  Private Eric Lewes, Auckland Battalion, New Zealand Brigade, NZ&A Division, NZEF

  By then it was too late and the result was failure, with serious casualties. They advanced just a hundred yards or so before taking shelter in the unoccupied Turkish trench at the Pinnacle, where the attack broke down. At this point Johnston ordered Malone to send his Wellington Battalion on another charge up towards Chunuk Bair. Malone stoutly refused, stating that he would not send his men over to commit suicide but would wait for darkness. Just then orders arrived from Godley that all offensive operations were to cease for the time being. And that was that. The great night attack had failed; none of the objectives had been achieved. But what of the attacks from Anzac that were meant to coordinate with the New Zealanders? How had they fared?

  AS WELL AS LONE PINE there was another series of operations planned at Anzac for 6 and 7 August. The first of these was the attack to be launched at midnight on 6 August by the 6th Battalion from Steele’s Post on German Officer’s Trench, which was designed to remove the flanking threat to the further attacks planned on The Nek and Chessboard at 04.30. This episode has almost been forgotten but it is a classic war horror story. Here, as at Lone Pine, tunnelling was central to success.

  Three tunnels, 3–4 feet wide and 7 feet deep, had been dug, leading from our front line for a distance of about 30 yards. These were linked up by another tunnel, which was roughly parallel to our front line. A thin crust of earth, from 6 to 12 inches thick, was left as a roof to the tunnels. And from the forward tunnel a number of narrow saps were dug, leading to small posts, each capable of accommodating three or four men. These saps were just wide enough for a man to crawl through. The attack was to be launched by the 6th Battalion from these fire posts at midnight. The roofs were to be removed just after dark and the men were to charge across the intervening 20 yards to the enemy trench. The attack was to be preceded by three mine explosions: at 11 p.m., 11.30 p.m., and 11.40 p.m. These mines, it was hoped, would destroy a portion of the enemy trench, with its garrison, and completely demoralise the rest of the troops holding that section of trench.26

  Major Henry Gordon Bennett, 6th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  The assaulting troops did not dare occupy the forward tunnels from which their attack was to be made until the last mine had been detonated, in case the reverberations caused the tunnels to collapse around them.

  As 11 o’clock approached everyone waited anxiously to see yards of the enemy trench go skywards. But instead there was a low muffled rumbling and a slight earth tremor. We peered over the parapet, expecting to see the flash of the explosion and tons of earth and a few Turks hurled into the air. But nothing happened. The mine was too deep to be effective. A minute or so later we were all crouching low hoping to dodge the shells the enemy poured on us in retaliation. Shell after shell landed in and around the trench, tearing great rents in the communication tunnels. At 11.30 the next mine was blown, with even less effect. This brought another hurricane of shells on Steele’s Post. We were beginning to feel depressed. We realised that the enemy, instead of being destroyed or, at least, demoralised by them, had been made alert and ready. Then the third mine was blown at 11.40, with no better result.27

  Major Henry Gordon Bennett, 6th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  Still, orders were orders, so they moved down the tunnels to the underground front line ready to break through the crust of earth and charge the twenty yards to the Turkish front line at midnight. It soon became apparent that the Turkish counter-bombardment had been far more effective than the Australian mines.

  The party moving by one tunnel groped its way forward in the pitch-black darkness, stumbling over the heaps of debris caused by the bombardment. Movement was difficult and slow. One tunnel was completely blocked and impassable, while another was almost as bad. The party that had been detailed to use one tunnel was forced to retrace its steps along the crowded trench and to find its way to its position by an unknown route. To make matters more difficult, commands could only be given in whispers and this made control almost impossible. Instead of reaching their position in 10 minutes, as anticipated, it took almost an hour. The time for the attack was well passed and the troops had not arrived at their posts.28

  Major Henry Gordon Bennett, 6th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  It was an utter shambles. Finally, at 00.35, the men were in position to attack.

  The signal for the assault was given – a blast of a whistle. Men in the fire-posts jumped out and rushed forward. The moment they did, the enemy raked No Man’s Land with machine guns, rifles, and bombs. The thin line melted away. Some were hit before they left the posts. Those who followed fell back wounded, blocking the saps and preventing the rest of the attacking force from leaving the tunnel. The wounded crawled back out of the inferno into the safe refuge of the tunnel and before many minutes it was realised that the attack had failed.29

  Major Henry Gordon Bennett, 6th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  The attacking troops were under a shattering fire, not just from German Officer’s Trench immediately ahead of them, but also from machine guns and rifles in the Turkish trenches at Quinn’s Post on their left, Mortar Ridge to the front and Johnston’s Jolly to their right. The attack was a total failure.

  I telephoned Brigadier Forsyth telling him the result of the attack: the impossibility of attacking from the congested tunnels; the failure of our mines; with the result that the enemy trench was strongly held by an alert enemy. After consulting with the Divisional Commander, the Brigadier ordered another attempt to be made as soon as practicable.30

  Major Henry Gordon Bennett, 6th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  Communications were bad and, despite Bennett’s report, the brigade and divisional staff were unsure what was really happening. The capture of German Officer’s Trench was essential to avoid the threat of deva
stating fire into the southern flank of the planned morning attacks on The Nek, the Chessboard and from Quinn’s Post. There was also a degree of unwarranted scepticism about whether the 6th Battalion had tried as hard as it might.

  Bennett rang up and said that as we left recesses and started to cross intervening ground the fire increased to hellish extent and many were wounded in the recesses which were now filled with the dead and wounded who had crowded back into them, and that the assault was impossible. The Brigadier rang up Colonel White and told him that attack had failed. Colonel White very put out and said they were to be put at it again and that trench must be taken. The CO of 6th accordingly instructed to reorganise and go again.31

  Captain Carl Jess, Headquarters, 2nd Australian Brigade, 1st Division, AIF