SARI BAIR—PARTIAL WITHDRAWAL OF ALLIES

Thus practically ended the Suvla Bay operation and its supporting movements. Much had been expected of it and, by the barest margin, in the opinion of many competent military men, great results had been missed. Just what ultimate effect its success in this operation would have had on the Gallipoli campaign, on the position of Turkey in the war and, finally, upon the course of the war as a whole, it is obviously impossible to say. There are those who claim that the capture of Constantinople would have brought the struggle to a quick and disastrous end from the viewpoint of the Central Powers. There are others, equally entitled by experience and knowledge to speak, who claim that it would have had no appreciable influence on the final result. And there is a third body of critics of opinion that the capture of Constantinople would have been a disaster for the Allies, inasmuch as it would have opened up vast questions of age-long standing that would have led to wide dissension between England, Russia, and France.

There is another and no less interesting phase of the Suvla Bay operation that will one day be studied with care. In this crucial attack a reliance was placed upon raw troops who had seen little or no actual fighting. It was, in a way, an attempt to prove that patriotic youths, rallying to the colors at their country's need, although without previous training, could in a few months be made more than a match for the obligatory military service troops of the Continental system.

Some extremely interesting details of the preparation for the landing at Suvla Bay have been given by a correspondent who was permitted to be present, but who, like all except a few officers of General Ian Hamilton's immediate staff, was kept in absolute ignorance of the exact location of the spot selected.

"It has long been obvious that some new landing on a vast scale was about to be attempted," he wrote, "and surmise has therefore been rife as to the exact point on which the blow would fall. It was hoped to take the Turk completely by surprise, and to obtain a firm foothold on the shore before he could bring up his reenforcements. In this it would seem as if we have been successful, for two divisions were yesterday (August 7, 1915) put ashore almost without opposition. The enemy probably had accurate knowledge of the arrival of large reenforcements, for it is almost impossible to keep movements of troops unknown in the Near East, and his airmen have frequently flown over our camps. He knew, therefore, we were preparing to strike, but on the vital point as to where the blow would fall he seems to have been entirely ignorant.

"No one who has not seen a landing of a large army on a hostile shore can have any idea of the enormous amount of preparation work and rehearsal which must precede any such movement. For three weeks this has been going on incessantly.

"For many days past a division has been practicing embarking and disembarking until every officer and every man knew the exact rÔle he had to play.

"On the morning of August 6, 1915, I was told to hold myself in readiness to embark that evening for an unknown destination, which would not be disclosed to me until after I got on board the transport. There was general rejoicing among the troops when it became known that the period of preparation was at length passed and that the hour for action had at last arrived.

"Throughout the whole of August 6, 1915, the work of embarking proceeded without a stop. Dense masses of fully equipped infantry, each carrying two days' rations, and tin dishes strapped on their knapsacks, moved down to the quay and were there embarked. The troops seemed in excellent spirits and full of fight. They were cracking jokes and singing many familiar songs, the favorite of which seemed to be a blending of 'Tipperary' with 'Are We Downhearted?' Which query was answered by a deafening roar of 'No!'"

In writing of the country around Suvla Bay the same correspondent said:

"The country is in fact terrible; the hills are an awful jumble, with no regular formation, but broken up into valleys, dongas, ravines, and partly bare sandstone, and partly covered with dense shrub. In places there are sheer precipices over which it is impossible to climb and down which a false step may send you sliding several hundreds of feet."

Finally, deeply illuminating is the official communiquÉ published in England on August 26, 1915, regarding the operations in early August. The most striking paragraphs follow:

"Very severe and continuous fighting, with heavy losses to both sides, has resulted. Our forces have not yet gained the objectives at which they were aiming in sphere eight, though they have made a decided advance toward them and have greatly increased the area in our possession.

"The attack from Anzac after a series of desperately contested actions, was carried to the summit of Sari Bair and Chunuk Bair Ridge, which are the dominating positions on this area, but, owing to the fact that the attack from Suvla Bay did not make the progress which was counted upon, the troops from Anzac were not able to maintain their position in the actual crest, and after repeating counterattacks, were compelled to withdraw to positions close below it."

And the communiquÉ ends up with the significant sentence:

"But these facts must not lead the public to suppose that the true objective has been gained or that further serious and costly efforts will not be required before a decisive victory is won." Picturesque accounts of the fighting by the Australian troops for Sari Bair on August 6, 7, and 8, 1915, have been written by an eyewitness of the fighting. Speaking of the few moments before the fighting, he said:

"Meanwhile the combined Australians and New Zealanders braced for the desperate night attack that had been decided upon. The men had long been waiting for this hour to arrive.

"Strict orders were given that not a shot was to be fired; the bayonet alone was to be used. Exactly at ten o'clock on Friday night a brigade clambered over their trenches and furiously charged the Turkish line amid loud cheers, bayoneting all the enemy found therein. The Turks, taken apparently quite unawares, fired wildly and were unable to check the advance.

"Thus in a few minutes all the enemy nearest the sea were in our hands and the way was thus cleared for the main advance. The New Zealanders stopped only to take breath and then pursued their victorious career, rushing in succession the old No. 3 outpost, 'Bauchop's Hill,' and other Turkish positions. The native Maoris entered into the charge with great dash, making the darkness of the night hideous with their wild war cries, and striking terror into the hearts of the Turks with the awful vigor with which they used their bayonets and the butt end of their rifles.

"The darkness of the night, the broken nature of the ground, and the shell fire with which the enemy had smothered every available bit of ground, with his deadly snipers, delayed the main advance somewhat after these preliminary positions had been successfully rushed, for every hill and spur had to be picketed to keep down the fire from lurking marksmen left in the rear of our advancing columns. The fighting throughout the night was continuous, for amid these gloomy ravines the Turks offered courageous and despairing resistance to the Australians, the New Zealanders and Maoris, and many bloody encounters, the details of which will never be known, were fought in the dark hours which preceded a still more eventful dawn."[Back to Contents]