Gallipoli

by Peter Hart

  They sent over quite a number of HE shells and, unusually for them, all busted and that with terrific violence. I think it is some new toy they’ve acquired via Bulgaria. Well, only one shell really hit anything that mattered and that was a bay next to our own dugout occupied by nine of my men. With the exception of three, they were all literally blown to pieces and unrecognisable. I’ve never seen such an awful shambles as that bay presented. All were dead: the first glimpse being a headless trunk. We buried three we could recognise, five trunks and a bag of spare limbs.19

  Captain Thomas Watson, 6th East Lancashire Regiment, 38th Brigade, 13th Division

  All over Anzac and Suvla shells were dropping in areas that had been previously considered relatively safe.

  We were resting in Victoria Gully, till then untouched by Turkish shellfire, when I was called away to watch a ‘Two-up’ game and maybe hoping to try my luck as well! Suddenly a newly arrived howitzer battery (Austrian, it was said) dropped one amongst the five or six I had just left. All died; amongst them I found Sergeant Jack Herbert just alive. Before he died he whispered, ‘They’ve got me downstairs, Scottie – no more fun for me!’ So they had.20

  Private George Scott, 4th (New South Wales) Battalion, 1st Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  There was a general perception among the troops that the Turkish shelling had increased in both quality and effectiveness. Major Cecil Allanson was wounded by a shell on 3 December.

  I was standing not far from my dugout giving notes to orderlies, when there was a terrific roar; the world seemed to come on the top of me, and the next vivid memory I have, though temporarily deprived of my sight, was the communion on the hospital ship, Gloucester Castle. I asked someone in the next bed if I was dying, as I had been given the last sacrament, but he told me to be of good cheer, as he had also been given it and he was only suffering from jaundice!21

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

  Allanson’s campaign was over.

  BACK IN LONDON members of the Cabinet were still dithering. Many feared the effect of acknowledging defeat on Egypt and India, but the main cause of this vortex of indecision was Lord Curzon. The former Viceroy of India wrote an influential memo that predicted in the most lurid terms a nightmarish military disaster should an evacuation be attempted. The strange mood of the Royal Navy, still apparently considering a renewed assault on the Straits, did not help, as it seemed to offer an alternative avenue of escape. The decision was debated, put off, reconsidered, postponed and then deferred. Days stretched into weeks as incremental delays mounted up. All possible solutions were considered, ranging from the vaguely impractical to the frankly surreal. Kitchener too began to wobble again, now apparently possessed of the belief that Salonika could be closed down and the troops there sent to Gallipoli to support the putative naval assault on the Straits. Once again Monro, Byng and Birdwood were asked their opinions of the possibilities and perils of staying on in Gallipoli. The military consensus remained firmly in favour of evacuation. Then, on 4 December, a series of high-level meetings with the French began on the future of the Salonika front. The French wavered but eventually declared that Salonika could not be surrendered; by contrast, they were perfectly happy to evacuate Gallipoli. Finally, on 7 December, a full meeting of all twenty-two members of the Cabinet met: a final decision had to be taken. As it was impossible to conceive of a damaging public split with the French, the politicians made their decision and plumped for evacuation. Even then, influenced by the wishes of the Royal Navy, they decided to retain Helles in order to restrict U-boat usage of the Straits. It had taken just over five long weeks from the despatch of Monro’s appreciation to his receipt of the final decision on 8 December. Anzac and Suvla would be evacuated. The final date was set for 19 December. But was it still possible?

  Throughout this hiatus the headquarters staff had been making preliminary preparations for the evacuation. Nevertheless the final approval brought home with stunning force a realisation of the manifold difficulties of what they were about to attempt.

  A retirement in the face of an enemy on land where you have plenty of room is a very difficult and critical operation but under the circumstances here, where one is bang up against your enemy, and where you have absolutely no room to sling a cat, and also have to embark in small craft every single man, gun, animals and stores on a beach which is under the enemy’s gun-fire, and of which they know the range to an inch – and in the case of Suvla can see from their positions – you can imagine what a difficult anxious job it is. We have not only the enemy to contend with, but at any moment, practically in the twinkling of an eye, a south-west wind may spring up.22

  Deputy Quartermaster General Walter Campbell, Headquarters, Eastern Mediterranean Forces (EMF)

  Somehow the Allies had to evacuate from Anzac and Suvla some 83,000 men, 186 guns and as much equipment and stores as possible. The huge depots were gradually whittled away as the more valuable or esoteric items were re-embarked. However, they were constrained in how much they could take away by the fear that the Turks might notice, or worse still, a resumption of the bad weather might cause a postponement. It was therefore essential to keep ashore sufficient food to feed tens of thousands of men and animals.

  I expect to lose a good deal of food, as I had stocked up each place with about thirty-five days’ rations in view of the coming bad weather in January, February and March, as I calculated that during that time there might be frequent periods of about a week or 10 days when no food could be landed at all – so the accumulated stocks meant some 6,000 to 7,000 tons. Of course at such short notice it has been impossible to get all that quantity away.23

  Deputy Quartermaster General Walter Campbell, Headquarters, EMF

  The initial sets of evacuation plans were drawn up by the staff of the ANZAC and IX Corps. The original solution as drawn up by the IX Corps staff under Lieutenant General Sir Julian Byng was to make a fighting withdrawal, falling back in stages to two pre-prepared trench systems close to the beaches on either side of the newly flooded Salt Lake before making a final break for it. But this plan could not co-exist with the secrecy required at Anzac, where they were already effectively in their last-ditch positions. Eventually it was abandoned in favour of the plan produced by Brigadier General Brudenell White, the Chief of Staff of the ANZAC Corps. On the basis that the Turks were fully capable of causing huge casualties by bombarding the beaches and launching disruptive attacks, this plan prioritised deception to try to conceal the evacuation until the very last moment. It was a brilliant piece of work that combined rigorously detailed planning with a considerable imaginative effort to fool the Turks. In the week before evacuation the units holding Anzac and Suvla would be thinned out to the bare minimum required to hold the front. Then, over two nights, the reserve and support units would be evacuated on the penultimate night while on the last night they would thin out the remaining units in stages, before the final parties pulled back, covered by small rearguards. Every effort would be made to maintain the appearance of normality in everything they did.

  One clever feature of the plan was the introduction of silent periods in the weeks before the evacuation to try to get the Turks used to the tell-tale reduction in noise that would become apparent as the Anzac trenches emptied in the final hours. All small arms and artillery fire was to cease unless the Turks attacked or presented an exceptional target. These silent nights clearly confused the Turks. Captain Basil Holmes was in Quinn’s Post.

  The Turks did send a patrol across the 15–20 yards to look into our trenches to see whether we were still there or not, as we had suddenly stopped replying to any of their bombs. They were very suspicious, they came over and one brave Turk jumped down into a part of the trench at Quinn’s Post. There was no one in it and he started to walk along the trench. He hadn’t gone far, no distance at all, when there was a lead off the trench and one of our fellows just shoved the bayonet into him and killed him. No shots were fired. There were
four or five other fellows on the bank and they realised that something had happened, that we were there and they headed back to their own trench and left this dead body with us.24

  Captain Basil Holmes, 17th (New South Wales) Battalion, 5th Brigade, 2nd Division, AIF

  Such experiences made the Turks very wary of probing too far, even when they noticed something unusual in the Anzac lines; the silent periods had their intended effect.

  As preparations progressed around them, the men of Anzac and Suvla began to realise that an evacuation really was underway. Not unsurprisingly, they were filled with conflicting emotions: relief, a feeling of being thwarted and an underlying sense of guilt over the prospect of abandoning the graves of their dead comrades. And of course, like any soldiers, they speculated – or rather gossiped – as to what would happen next.

  We know nothing as yet and spend all day arguing as to what our final destination may be. In fact we have started a sweep to-day. The horses running are (1) England (2) Western Front (3) Helles (4) Egypt (5) Balkans (6) Townsend’s Expedition (7) East Africa (8) The Field which includes any place not mentioned above. If anybody comes back from the orderly room it is correct for him to put on the air of ‘knowing a lot, but not being able to tell!’ This drives Walter into a frenzy as he jumps at any rumour and works it absolutely threadbare, making himself quite ill and ‘highly inflammable’ over it.25

  Lieutenant Alfred Richardson, 1st West Somerset Yeomanry, 2nd Brigade, 2nd Mounted Division

  Throughout the last week the garrisons of Anzac and Suvla were reduced in secrecy, night by night, to the bare minimum capable of holding off a surprise Turkish attack.

  We had in round numbers some 75,000 men to take off. Mercifully the elements have been kind. We commenced last Sunday night, the 12th, and we have continued it every night since without interruption. We divided the operations into two spheres. [The first] lasting over six nights, working from two hours after sunset till two hours before daybreak, our object being to withdraw, without giving any indication to the enemy, every man, animal, gun, stores, etc. that we could spare, and at the same time hold our position in case we were heavily attacked. I am glad to say the six nights of the first stage finished last night, and we reduced the numbers to what was considered a safe minimum, i.e., 20,000 men on each beach. Now tonight we begin the final stage; as far as we can gather, the enemy have no inkling that we contemplate withdrawal.26

  Deputy Quartermaster General Walter Campbell, Headquarters, EMF

  They could not take the mounds of food stores away but they could destroy or render unusable as much as possible. It was a mammoth task but they worked away at it with a will and, as might be expected, there were many opportunities for low humour.

  Some wags steam the labels off bully, pierce a couple of neat holes in the tin and replace the label. They hoped that ‘Abdul’ would eat it and become indisposed, but I think they hoped in vain, because a Turk’s anatomical pantry is copper-lined!27

  Lance Corporal William Scurry, 7th (Victoria) Battalion, 2nd Brigade, 1st Division, AIF

  The men took a particular pleasure in setting up various booby traps for unwary Turks.

  The men in the trenches spent the last day in turning every dugout into a death trap and the most innocent looking things into infernal machines. The fireplace in General Cayley’s dugout was set, but thirty pounds of TNT was fixed to go off whenever the fire had burned down to a fuse. Other dugouts would blow up when the doors were opened. The CRA’s drafting table had several memorandum books lying on it, each with electrical connections to an explosive charge sufficient to destroy a platoon. A gramophone, wound up and with record on, ready to be started, was left in one dugout – so contrived that the end of the tune meant the death of the listeners. Piles of bully beef tins turned into diabolical engines of destruction lay scattered about. In front of the trenches lay miles of trip mines. Really, I never thought the British Tommy possessed such diabolical ingenuity. They entered into it with the greatest zest and enjoyed it – a little practical joke on Johnny Turk!28

  Lieutenant Norman King-Wilson, 88th Field Ambulance, RAMC

  What they could not destroy, ruin or pollute, they tried hard to bury and there was considerable ingenuity employed in disguising their actions. One memorable ruse was used by the Australians occupying the Warwick Castle post at the head of Aghyl Dere.

  Before the last of us left all available ammunition and bombs were collected. These were buried and on a cross stuck into the ground was the following inscription: ‘To the Memory of Private Bullet. RIP.’ That was to prevent the Turks from becoming inquisitive and digging up the ammunition and bombs!29

  Company Sergeant Major William Burrows, 16th (Southern and Western Australian) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF

  The first night of the evacuation took place on 18 December. As the men filed silently back to the beach they were packed aboard passenger steamers and spirited away in three batches at 22.00, 24.00 and 01.00 next day. Everything went like clockwork, the Turks seemed oblivious to what was going on and there were no casualties; indeed, ironically, two Turks deserted that night. Truly a case of bad timing. There were now just 10,000 men holding the lines at Suvla, with a further 10,000 at Anzac. Would the Turks notice, come the dawn?

  TO HELP DEFLECT TURKISH ATTENTION from Suvla and Anzac, the VIII Corps was charged with launching attacks at Helles on 19 December. Much of the planning for this risky operation relied on harvesting the hard work of the miners who had been long fighting an intensive underground war there. As fighting above ground had died down, the pace of the mining operations had increased right across the Helles front. Sapeur Gaston-Louis Giguel found himself tunnelling under the Turkish lines in the Kereves Dere sector. But of course the Turks were also burrowing their way towards him.

  In a moonless night the flares never stopped illuminating the ravine. From our trench by means of a microphone we could clearly hear them working. Who would get there first? There are six of us working in our shaft. We are divided into two teams; the work goes on 24 hours a day. One man is digging at the end of the shaft; two others carry out the spoil with the aid of a little sledge that they push right to the entrance to the gallery. All this is controlled by a sergeant and we barely manage in our 24 hours to dig 3 metres of shaft despite working conscientiously. In a mine next to us two comrades were nearly asphyxiated when the miner at the head of the gallery broke into a pocket full of gas left by the previous explosion of a Turkish mine. Our work is particularly tiring – only wine and spirits keep us going!30

  Sapeur Gaston-Louis Giguel, 1st Régiment du Génie, CEO

  Such operations continued all through the autumn and into the winter. It was a murderous game as each side raced to explode their mines first; yet if they blew their mines too early they would not achieve their objective. It was all a matter of judgement and nerve. Now such mines were a readymade ingredient of a daring set of attacks launched up Gully Ravine and Krithia Nullah on the afternoon of 19 December.

  A pretty big demonstration was made at Cape Helles which included a heavy and long bombardment and an advance at one or two points along our front. We had the privilege of seeing a successful infantry advance on our right, but the grand sight was quickly ended as the men were soon enveloped in smoke from bursting shrapnel. As regards the spectacle of bursting shells in the bombardment it is impossible for me to portray and I can only liken it to an exaggerated Brocks Benefit [fireworks] at the Crystal Palace. During this demonstration the Engineers sprung a gigantic mine on the part of our Gully known as Border Barricade and our Division occupied the crater.31

  Corporal Godfrey Clifford, 1st West Kent Yeomanry, South Eastern Mounted Brigade, 42nd Division

  Following the detonation of the mine, an attack made by the 1/7th Lancashire Fusiliers who with the assistance of the sappers managed to link the new smoking crater to Crawley’s Crater in the Gully Ravine sector. The Turkish reaction was not a surprise.

  At n
ight time the Turks counter-attacked. They succeeded in getting back to the trench, but we rushed them out again. My arm is sore with throwing bombs at them. I saw some soldiers with blue uniforms on, and heard they were Bulgarians. I got hit because I was a bayonet man for a team of bombers rushing up a sap. I did not get far before a bullet got me – made a hole in my hat and a flesh wound in my head. It was a lucky hit for me, as it was in my head!32

  Private Arthur Kay, 1/7th Lancashire Fusiliers, 125th Brigade, 42nd Division

  The Turks did not give up easily and over the next two days teams of bombers from the Sussex Yeomanry and West Kent Yeomanry were sent up to bolster the hard-pressed garrison in holding on to the new posts.

  What a sight met our eyes. I have never been in a big crater before and only had a slight idea of what they were like. This one was like a huge gravel pit about 50 foot deep and 250 foot in diameter, with great cracks in sides and bottom and huge lumps of earth and rocks scattered about which had been torn out by the explosion. The crater was about 100 yards in front of our firing line and about 10 yards in front of the crater a small gully ran across our front. It was impossible to see down the gully and the Turkish trenches on the opposite side prevented any forward movement on our part. One never knew what this little gully hid from view and it was this fact that made our position so rotten. Lucky for us there was a particularly bright moon that night which made observation by periscope possible. Had it been dark I am sure the first attack would have carried them into our position. We were in an absolutely rotten position for bombing – the explosion of the mine had filled in the trench to such an extent that we were compelled to move about on our hands and knees. To make things worse a machine gun kept flicking the tops of the remaining sand bags so after we got the observer in position we set to work to stock ourselves with bombs and then dig ourselves in. After about 4–5 hours’ hard work during which time we were continuously shelled and sniped, our observer noted a movement just in front of us, word was passed along and we were ready. They were making one of their many counter-attacks. We waited for them to get a little nearer then we got the word, ‘Go!’ The noise was terrific, what with bursting bombs, ‘Whiz Bangs’, rifle and machine gun fire – it was necessary to shout in the next man’s ear to get an order passed up.33