by Peter Hart
There was far, far worse to come. Friday 26 November began much the same as any day but it soon became apparent that something out of the ordinary was brewing up.
The morning was overcast and the wind from the North-East steadily rising, and as the day wore on the cold increased, and by evening every tent was straining at its guy ropes, and men could be heard hammering pegs in all directions. A foreboding of evil seemed to come to all. For weeks we had heard rumours of the dreadful winters on Gallipoli and anxiously we watched the banked up clouds and the ships tugging at their anchors in the Bay.3
Lieutenant Norman King-Wilson, 88th Field Ambulance, RAMC
At about 18.00 the rain started. Soon it was pouring down as if from some celestial hosepipe. At first the men seemed snug enough in their dugouts and shelters.
I was just sitting in my dugout when it started raining and as the roof started leaking, I piled all my kit on a box and went up to HQ for refuge, thinking it to be an ordinary drop of rain. I dined there and the rain continuing we asked the lads in the kitchen how they were. They said, ‘It’s just up to our knees but we’ll manage the coffee!’ Looking down we saw the water spreading across the floor up to our boots. I went out to see how the men were and found the main communication trench a torrent in which I could hardly stand. It was rushing down from the higher ground. I found our trench and most of the dugouts flooded and collapsing.4
Lieutenant Clement Attlee, 6th South Lancashire Regiment, 38th Brigade, 13th Division
Although there were many gullies at both Anzac and Helles, the locations of most of the trenches up on the ridges and spurs meant that they were spared the worst of the floods, though communication through the formerly dry gullies was halted. But at Suvla the wide open spaces of the plain were crossed by several streams that were capable of catastrophic flooding. The 1st Herefords were most unfortunate as they occupied trenches running across the bed of the Azmak Dere. Normally there was only a barely visible trickle of water in the watercourse.
Suddenly, without warning, a brown flood poured in. The water rose as you watched until it was about 3½ feet deep and then stopped. As I didn’t want to drown I struggled out of the trench, and met the CO emerging from next door where the same thing had happened. It was quite obvious what had occurred. The very heavy rain, probably still heavier back in the hills, had suddenly transformed the Dere into a river again. The water had poured down from the high ground behind the Turks till it had got caught up behind their barricade. This, presumably, had held until there was a respectable weight of water behind it, when it collapsed and the whole tearing flood came rushing down at ours. It didn’t gather, or pause for the twinkling of an eye at ours, it simply swept it away as if it hadn’t been there, and swept on to the sea, a solid river, 20 yards wide and 8 or 9 feet deep. All our trenches opened out of the Dere, and though their floor level was higher than the bottom of the stream they were still deep enough to take in about four feet of water.5
Captain Peter Ashton, 1st Herefordshire Regiment, 158th Brigade, 53rd Division
Ashton struggled through the flooded trenches to try to check on the situation in the front line, which had been cut in two by the Azmak Dere. This left the machine guns vital to their defences marooned on the other side of the torrent.
It wasn’t possible to cross anywhere near the front line, so I went down stream about 300 yards, to a wide, pebbly place I remembered, and managed to get across. The water was about waist deep and running very strong. The Royal Engineers’ two wooden bridges had absolutely disappeared. On my way down stream I heard something snorting and blowing in the dark in the water, and I found it came from a little Turkish ammunition pony, which had come down stream and got caught in a bush. I put two men on to get him out, and he continued his career in the British Army. When I got across I walked overland to the front line, and found our two precious guns intact.6
Captain Peter Ashton, 1st Herefordshire Regiment, 158th Brigade, 53rd Division
They would spend most of the day soaked through, trying to reorganise their positions. But this was just the start. At about 02.00 on 28 November the wind got up and began to blow in from the north. The temperature dropped rapidly below freezing and flurries of snow began to fall. That night the Herefords were relieved and they had moved back into reserve in the barren sand dunes behind Lala Baba.
Dawn, Sunday, 28th November, found it still snowing. We rose with considerable difficulty and started a little circulation back in our frozen limbs. A great many people were unable to get up at all; Holman, for one, was practically unconscious and we thought he was dead. But worse was to follow. Overnight our rations had been sent out to us in a lorry. The folk who sent them out, presumably sorry for those unfortunates in the snow, sent with them a double ration of rum. The wagon drivers, who brought the stuff, apparently before we arrived, finding no one to hand over to, had simply dumped the things by the side of the road and gone home. When morning broke men began wandering about, as men will, and unhappily found the dump. Instead of telling somebody, or even eating the food, which would have been sensible, they broke open the rum jars and started in. The effect on empty stomachs and in that cold was simply devastating. Filled with a spurious warmth, they lay on the ground, and in many cases took off coats, boots, even tunics! Those in the immediate vicinity of the dump were quickly put in the ‘bag’ but, unfortunately, the majority had filled mess tins and water bottles, and crawled into the bushes to enjoy themselves. We fairly combed those bushes all the morning, but by the time we found them all a certain number were dead. I remember finding one man in particular in only his shirt and trousers, holding out an empty mug with a perfectly stiff arm, quite dead. Coming on top of everything else, it was heartrending.7
Captain Peter Ashton, 1st Herefordshire Regiment, 158th Brigade, 53rd Division
Major Cecil Allanson’s 1/6th Gurkha Rifles, who occupied the trenches on Hill 60, were exposed to freezing winds. Still handicapped by a slight hand wound received only days before, Allanson was suffering torments.
Lower and lower went the temperature, every bone in my body ached with cold, and my hand wound became most painful. Sleeping and living in miserable dugouts under such circumstances has to be gone through to be appreciated and understood. Think what it was for the men in open trenches. Truly one was learning the necessity of courage. I rarely got a smile out of myself, and as I could neither shave nor wash one probably looked even more miserable than one felt. The cold was just intense, and I have never seen such courage as I saw through this blizzard. Men found at the parapet facing the Turk with glassy eyes and stone dead, who gave up their lives rather than give in. Imagine the death of slow, accepted torture. It is, at such periods, and at such periods only, that one really does not seem afraid of death.8
Major Cecil Allanson, 1/6th Gurkha Rifles, 29th Indian Brigade
Men had fallen asleep, or more accurately unconscious; those that awoke could well consider themselves fortunate to be alive at all.
It took us about an hour to make sure that each man had a rifle and to get them on to drier land. When I returned along the trench, which was still unfit to stay in, I found six men had crawled back and were huddled together on a firing step frozen to death. We then found about twenty men lying by a hedge with ground sheets over them more or less frozen stiff; we got them up, after a lot of groaning and complaining, and made them hop round in a circle to restore their circulation.9
Second Lieutenant Philip Gething, 9th Royal Warwickshire Regiment, 39th Brigade, 13th Division
Many men were afflicted badly by frostbite, although at first few of them realised what was happening.
I got into the middle of a heap of old blankets and slept for 2 hours. When the sentry woke me to put the next relief on, then I noticed something wrong with my feet, for they ached and burned awful! I suppose it was through being warm with blankets and the reaction had set in. After I had changed the sentries, I took my boots off to see if I could see what was the
matter. I was surprised to find my feet nearly black, I thought at first it was dirt and tried to rub it off but I soon gave that up as it was so painful. Then I guessed I’d got a touch of frost bite, so as soon as I could I went and saw the doctor. He said I must rub and wash them in cold water. Well, I got about a pint and did as he said. They seemed easier, but they were still painful and I could not get my boots on again. So I went to the Quartermaster Sergeant and asked him for a dry pair of socks and some boots. After a good deal of arguing I got them!10
Corporal William Barron, 1/4th Northamptonshire Regiment, 162nd Brigade, 54th Division
Since many of the men were still wearing thin summer kit the freezing conditions and snow were potentially lethal. In such circumstances much depended on the vigour of the response of the officers and senior NCOs. Practical measures carried out with enthusiasm could make the difference between life and death.
Men were brought into HQ in a state of collapse. However a fire was got going and the CO hustled round getting the Doctor to all the men who were bad, moving them into fairly dry dugouts. I made our men who would stand shivering run about and we had fairly frequent issues of rum. I found one line of dugouts fairly dry and, collecting all the men who had been drowned out, I marked our new dugouts for them on a little hill under the trees and set them digging. I also collected a lot of old tins, issued fuel and some petrol and got braziers going. I then had a foot inspection and made all the men with sodden feet rub them with snow. Lindley and I and the batmen got some old sandbags and made a sort of shelter about 6 feet by 6 feet in which he and I and Basepool spent the night. The bullets used to go, ‘Plunk! Plunk!’ into it just over our heads, but we were too done in to worry.11
Lieutenant Clement Attlee, 6th South Lancashire Regiment, 38th Brigade, 13th Division
Many men sank into despairing lethargy. Captain Thomas Watson, who had only returned recently to the front himself after having recovered from wounds received in the August fighting, was a firm believer in using robust methods to get his men moving.
No possibility of sleep – the men who were unfortunate enough to sleep were mostly frostbitten by morning. It was like slave-driving. The men had to be kept awake – poor beggars, dead tired some of ’em – at the point of a good nailed boot. You simply had to keep stamping or moving in the freezing mud to avoid losing the use of your limbs. The Sabbath dawned, one of the most hopeless days ever dreamed of. Men died of exposure too tired, in some cases too lazy, to make the necessary effort to live. There was one saving grace – the wretched Turks were in a worse plight and small groups of them walked about collecting brushwood to try and make a fire. This afforded sport to those who were warm enough to shoot and we potted several.12
Captain Thomas Watson, 6th East Lancashire Regiment, 38th Brigade, 13th Division
For IX Corps, stretched across the open Suvla Plain, this was a disaster. The ground was white with snow and the trenches up to waist deep in icy water. There were over 200 fatalities and the medical officers and their stretcher bearers had the near-impossible task of dealing with over 5,000 men suffering from frostbite and hypothermia.
Passing on to the aid posts I passed scores of men on their way down to the beaches, hobbling along, their feet tied up in puttees. The nearer to the trenches, the worse the sights grew. At the relief station hundreds of men were having their feet rubbed in oil and being given food. Their poor feet were swollen to double their normal size, blue and stone cold. The pain must have been frightful, but seldom did one hear a groan. The small aid posts in the trenches had some shocking cases brought in. Some frozen and unconscious, some quite drunk, for they had consumed large quantities of rum to keep warm. Some lying prone in the mud, dead. Others lying on top of the parapets, frozen in. Oh God, it was pitiful! As the day wore on, more and more men with frozen feet came hobbling down, some with rifles as crutches, some crawling, others being assisted by pals nearly as crippled as themselves. One officer with frozen feet was making his way slowly across the mud flat to our dressing station. He asked two others who were with him to go on, and sat down in the mud. They went on sending back bearers. When the bearers reached him, he was dead – of cold and exhaustion.13
Lieutenant Norman King-Wilson, 88th Field Ambulance, RAMC
Back at the dressing stations the medical teams were almost overwhelmed by the numbers requiring treatment. By the time the sick could finally be evacuated many of them were in a very poor state.
The majority could only just crawl up the ladder, dozens tried, failed and had to be carried; they came on, mouths open, gasping, faces bluish, grey eyes glazed. Many of those who could stumble had to be led, as they just walked automatically, their clothes frozen stiff. I shall never forget the experience. We got them all below into cots, filled them up hot soups and Bovril and piled blankets on to them. Heaps had badly frostbitten feet which as they warmed up gave them great pain. We had frostbite in all stages. I was going until midnight, wrapping up feet in cotton wool.14
Surgeon Lieutenant Commander Albert Gilbertson, HMHS Reha
The hospital ship Reha had only 214 cots, but there were soon about 600 patients aboard and the decks were covered with mattresses.
The Turks were on higher ground and hence did not suffer quite so much from the flooding, but the later stages of the great freeze were still a tremendous ordeal for them.
Flakes gently float down. Since the temperature is below zero degrees centigrade, snow turns to ice. Though the brazier glows it is unable to dispel the cold in our dugout. Go out and tour trenches. Feel really sorry for my men. If this continues, what condition are we going to be in? Our conclusion is that there aren’t many who can take this sort of life. If one has to put up with such conditions, there is no solution but to become as philosophical as a wandering dervish, completely bereft of worldly ambitions and concerns.15
Second Lieutenant Mehmed Fasih, 2nd Battalion, 47th Regiment, 16th Division, Fifth Army
A dreamy theoretical idea, but of little practical value to the bulk of his freezing men. The Turks were not immune from bad morale and they too had suspected cases of self-inflicted wounds among men driven to the limit.
Sergeant Ishak from 1st Battalion comes by. Reports a soldier was wounded in the arm by a bullet. Medics took him to the rear. The Doctor who treated him detected traces of gunpowder in the wound and, his suspicions aroused, demanded that we investigate. Together with the man we proceed to the embrasure where he had been posted to investigate the matter. Since the soldier gives a confused account of what happened one does become suspicious; however, no empty cartridge found in his rifle. During lengthy interrogation, he merely repeats his original story. Sent him off.16
Second Lieutenant Mehmed Fasih, 2nd Battalion, 47th Regiment, 16th Division, Fifth Army
The weather finally changed at the start of December, taking on a far more benign, almost autumnal feel. But there would be more storms, perhaps even worse.
If anything brought home the brittle status of the Allies’ situation at Gallipoli it was the great storm and freeze, underlining as they did that any bad weather during the last few days of an evacuation could leave them stranded with one foot on the Peninsula and the other in mid-Aegean. Clearly, the delays of politicians could cost as many lives as the mistakes of generals. Major General Lynden-Bell raged impotently at the continuing failure of the government to make up its mind.
It is absolutely impossible for us to keep pace with the kaleidoscopic changes of policy which take place at home. One moment we are told that the War Council is for clearing out of here; this is followed by a telegram saying that the Cabinet is strongly opposed to this policy; then we receive no news for some days, and finally are told to clear out partially. Of course, the weather is the great factor here, and, as we have pointed out already, after the 21st December the bad weather almost invariably sets in. If there is a disaster, responsibility for it must rest on the Cabinet and its advisers. Had evacuation been decided on when we recommended it
first, there would have been no difficulty and we should have got off in our own time with but little loss. In addition to the weather we now have grave anxiety about the large number of big guns which are being brought down by the Germans to the Peninsula.17
Major General Arthur Lynden-Bell, Headquarters, MEF
Of course the weather was still not their greatest enemy. The Turks had by no means given up that cherished status. Bulgaria joining the Central Powers in October had made it much easier for heavier artillery and reliable ammunition to be brought up to Gallipoli from Germany and Austria. The relative paucity of modern Turkish artillery and shortage of reliable shells meant that hitherto the Allies could continue to occupy the bridgeheads even though their rear areas were under the intermittent menace of shell fire. But if the Turks’ access to arms and munitions improved then the Allies’ logistical difficulties would be magnified significantly.
At last in November the long coveted German artillery ammunition reached the Fifth Army. Its arrival increased the hope of a successful ending of the campaign. The Turkish artillery was in excellent training and its firing was good, but with its poor ammunition it could not produce more than limited results. From now on it was different. The first troops from the Central Powers arrived in Gallipoli in November 1915 for our active support. It was an excellent Austrian 24-cm mortar battery which was posted on the left of the Anafarta front and soon opened a very effective fire. An equally good Austrian 15-cm howitzer battery, which followed in December, was attached to the south group.18
General Otto Liman von Sanders, Headquarters, Fifth Army
Many men on the Allied side commented on the arrival of the Austro-Hungarian mortars, while the introduction of artillery shells that actually exploded further added to the prospective devastation.
