FORTIFICATIONS AND STRENGTH—FIRST MOVEMENTS

Let us inspect the fortifications in the Dardanelles at the beginning of the war in 1914. The Dardanelles, from end to end, have a length of forty-seven miles. From the town of Gallipoli to the Ægean, however, the full distance of the narrow section of the waterway, is a matter of thirty-three miles. At one point the passage is less than 1,400 yards wide and at no point is it more than 7,000. Although there is a good depth in much of the channel, shallows are to be met with in most unexpected places. To make navigation even more difficult, there is a swift and powerful surface current running through the Narrows, on some occasions at a speed of eight knots an hour. In addition there is not only a strong undercurrent, but, as well, many cross currents. At certain seasons of the year the wind and weather make navigation of large vessels almost impossible.

Both sides of the Dardanelles offered natural positions of enormous advantage to a defending force. On the Gallipoli side were a tangled mass of rocks and hills, almost devoid of vegetation except for stubby yellow bushes. In a few of the little valleys, stray clusters of olive trees relieved the monotony of the view. Heights rose upon heights and along the shores of the peninsula nearly perpendicular cliffs made landings almost out of the question.

This whole peninsula was a difficult country to traverse even in times of peace. No large maps existed of its intricate paths, there were few roads, and those that did exist were so commanded by heights and concealed positions for guns and infantry that the progress of an attacking force would inevitably be most difficult and costly.

Water was almost nonexistent. Most of the available supply was so protected that an attacking force would in no case be able to use it until its task of conquest was complete. As such a force advanced inland, these difficulties as well as those of the country would constantly and rapidly increase. From Cape Hellas, at the tip of the peninsula where a sandy beach made a landing possible, if difficult, the ground rapidly rose to a height of 140 feet. Hill country then led to ridges standing 600 feet, while a mile and a half beyond stood 600 feet in the air the commanding peak of Achi Baba, destined to play so large and so tragic a part in the struggle for the peninsula of Gallipoli. At the narrowest part of the Narrows, the real key position to the straits, stood the Kilid Bahr plateau, 700 feet, while to the northwest, almost 300 feet higher, stood the precipitous eminence of Sari Bair, a dense mass of trackless ravines and thickets.

Where the peninsula of Gallipoli joined the mainland is, comparatively speaking, a narrow neck of land. Even this, however, presented tremendous potential difficulties to any force. A hill almost 500 feet in height rose in the center and marshes on either side prevented a turning movement. Furthermore, the difficulties of landing a force in the face of an enemy strongly intrenched on the heights were not lessened by the circumstance that the cliffs rose to a height of 300 feet, almost straight from the water's edge. In short nature seems to have designed the country in every way as a protection against an armed force seeking to force its way either in or out of the Black Sea. To just what extent these natural advantages had been utilized by the Turks it is impossible to say. It is not likely, however, that they, or their German mentors, had been idle, in view of the importance the Allies were known to attach to the straits.

In September, 1914, and probably for some time before, the Turks were known to be busy strengthening the forts. Subsequent events led to the conclusion that they, or their German advisers, were alive to the lessons of the early days of the war in France and Belgium and had made elaborate arrangements for the placing of heavy guns in concealed positions. In addition they perfected the mobility of even the heaviest of pieces, so that it became impossible for observation from the Franco-British ships or from aeroplanes to locate them with any certitude.

The Turks also seem to have secured a plentiful supply of sea mines, with which the waters approaching the Dardanelles and the actual passage of the straits were strewn along the shores. Toward the Narrows were constructed shore batteries for the launching of torpedoes, as well as for the launching of floating mines. The strong current of the straits could be depended upon to carry these latter engines of destruction among the allied ships of war should they venture within the narrow, confined waters of the Dardanelles.

This was the condition of affairs, then, on November 3, 1914, when a joint Anglo-French squadron sailed in close to the tip of the Gallipoli peninsula and opened a bombardment of the outer defenses of the Dardanelles. For this and subsequent naval operations against the Turkish position, England was able to detach from her main theatre of naval activity—the North Sea—a considerable number of old, but still extremely powerful, battleships and battle cruisers. These boats, with the exception of the Queen Elizabeth, which later appeared on the scene, were all built previous to the introduction of the dreadnought and were to a considerable extent made obsolete by that vessel. At any rate they could not engage the more modern ships of the German navy and could not be attached to the grand fleet of England because of their lack of high speed and the heaviest of guns. For these reasons, although their loss in any engagement against the Turkish defenses would not be relished by the British authorities, still such a disaster would not be decisive in any war. As Winston Churchill subsequently pointed out, many of them would have, in the ordinary course of events, but a few more years of life in the British navy, so rapidly were modern battleships deteriorating under the rapid advance of naval science.

At the entrance to the straits the Turks had erected two major positions and several minor ones. On the Asiatic shore stood the Kum Kale Fort, known as the "New Castle of Asia." There the main battery consisted of four 10.2-inch guns. A short distance down the coast stood Yeni Shehr, where a main battery of two 9.2-inch guns and a short battery of smaller pieces had been erected. On the European side, opposite Kum Kale, stood Sedd-el-Bahr, with six 10-inch and two 5.9-inch guns. At Cape Hellas, the extreme point of the Gallipoli Peninsula, was the Erteghrul Battery, mounting two 9.2-inch guns and some minor pieces.

Each of the attacking warships fired about a score of shells at these forts and an attempt was made to determine just how much damage had been done. None of the forts were silenced, however, and it was finally decided by the commander of the Anglo-French naval force, Vice Admiral Carden, that conditions were not propitious for pushing home the attack and the vessels retired out to sea, where they maintained a tight blockade of the Dardanelles. Then there followed a long period of naval inactivity, at least so far as the larger vessels were concerned.

About a month later, however, on December 13, 1914, the commander of a British submarine accomplished a feat in the Sea of Marmora that not only aroused his countrymen to enthusiasm but as well won for him the coveted Victoria Cross, the first instance of the winning of that decoration by a naval officer since the beginning of the war.

Lieutenant Holbrook was in command of the B-11, a 316-ton submarine launched as far back as 1906. It was in no sense to be compared to the giant underwater crafts that were being launched and used at the outbreak of the war, some of them measuring 800 feet. The B-11 carried only sixteen men in all—two officers and fourteen men.

Early in the morning of December 13, 1914, she started through the straits. Evidently her commander had knowledge of the disposition of the Turkish mine field, for Lieutenant Holbrook successfully navigated his ship through it, dived under five rows of mines, any one of which would have blown his frail craft into a thousand pieces, and came up under the side of the Turkish battleship Messudiyeh. The Messudiyeh, in any other navy, would have been retired long before, but Turkey had none too many ships and probably had been saving her to fight against the equally ancient vessels of some other minor power. Launched as far back as 1874, she had been reconstructed and rearmed in 1901. She was lying in the Sea of Marmora, guarding the very mine field under which Holbrook had dived his craft.

Holbrook observed the Messudiyeh through the periscope of the B-11, maneuvered for position, dived, came up again and launched his torpedo. It struck home and the ancient sides of the Messudiyeh gaped wide. Slowly she sank while Holbrook dived to safety. For nine and a half hours the latter felt his way out of the straits and when he returned to the fleet his little vessel and its daring crew received an enthusiastic demonstration from the soldiers of the larger warships. Besides the Victoria Cross, received by Holbrook himself, his second in command, Lieutenant Sydney T. Winn, received the Distinguished Service Order, and each of the fourteen members of the crew received the Distinguished Service Medal.

On the next day, December 14, 1914, the British submarine B-9 attempted to repeat the feat, but the Turks were prepared. When she came to the surface mines were exploded all around her, and she had all she could do to make good her escape.

On January 15, 1915, not content that the British should have all the danger, or the glory, the French submarine, Saphir, entered the straits. Near Nagara Point she struck the bottom in one of those shallow spots that abound in the Dardanelles, was compelled to come to the surface in a disabled condition and was quickly shot to pieces by the Turkish shore batteries.

The movement against the forts in the Dardanelles was now begun. This campaign, which was begun with so much confidence of ultimate success, was destined to become one of the greatest repulses that the Allies had encountered thus far during the war.[Back to Contents]