The Battle of Sari Bair.

Part I.

The Preliminaries.

The great battle, apart from the feint attacks away at Bulair and Mitylene, was to comprise four distinct operations, all closely dependent one on the other.

1. An attack in force at Cape Helles on the afternoon of August 6. This would tend to commit Turkish reserves to an action far away from Anzac.

2. The Australian Division, holding the line from Chatham's Post to Russell's Top, was to make several attacks on the afternoon of August 6. These would serve to immobilize or distract the enemy reserves known to be concentrated at Koja Dere, behind Mortar Ridge, and at Battleship Hill.

3. A great assault by the N.Z. and Australian Division, assisted by the newly-arrived 13th Division and a brigade of Indian troops, advancing up the three deres that lead to the peak of the Sari Bair—up the Sazli Beit and the Chailak to Chunuk Bair, and up the Aghyl towards Hill Q and Koja Chemen Tepe.

4. A new landing at Suvla Bay by the 9th Army Corps, which would pass over the Suvla Flats early on the morning of August 7, and linking up with the left flank of the army from Anzac, would press up towards the height of Koja Chemen Tepe, to prolong the line towards the Anafarta villages.

The Struggle at Helles.

After a preliminary bombardment on the afternoon of the 6th, the infantry at Cape Helles dashed to the assault of the Turkish trenches at 3.50. Thus was the greatest battle in the Gallipoli campaign commenced by the men of Helles.[Pg 198]
[Pg 199] The bloody and stubborn combat lasted a full week, the Turks attacking and counter-attacking with two fresh divisions. The East Lancashire Division, assisted by the war-worn 29th Division, clung tenaciously to ground they had won—in particular, a small area of vineyard about 200 yards long and 100 broad, on the west of the Krithia Road. So fierce was the fighting for this small piece of cultivated land that this week-long battle is always referred to as "The Battle of the Vineyard." The object of this attack was fully achieved. No Turkish soldier could leave for Anzac or Suvla while this blow was being threatened at Achi Baba.

The Battle of Lone Pine.

Let us pass from the tragic vineyards of the south to the hungry hills of Anzac. During the afternoon of August 6, the slow bombardment of the enemy's left and centre was increased in intensity. The 1st Battery of New Zealand Field Artillery, firing from Russell's Top, was detailed to cut the wire in front of the Turkish Lone Pine trenches. The "Bacchante" searched the valleys which were believed to contain the enemy's reserves, while the monitors engaged the batteries at the back of Gaba Tepe and at the Olive Groves. This bombardment was intended to make the Turk believe that at last a determined effort was to be made from the Anzac right in the direction of Koja Dere and Maidos. The enemy felt that this was the heart thrust, and he waited in his well-placed cover for the inevitable assault. At 4.30 p.m., the New Zealand battery concentrated again on the Lone Pine trench, and the 1st Australian Infantry Brigade mustered in Brown's Dip ready for the assault.

Those awful hours of waiting! Platoon commanders fidgeting with their wristlet watches that seem to tick off the minutes so slowly. Men smoke cigarette after cigarette, and talk in undertones. At last the word comes, "Get ready." Everywhere men crowd on to the firestep. "Over the top!" Men pull themselves up over the parapet and, regaining their feet, rush for the opposing parapet with its angry spurts of flame. Across that bullet-swept No Man's Land race the impetuous men of Australia. Line after line sweeps on, but not to fall into an open fire trench on to the foe. These trenches are roofed with timber, which has to be torn up. A merciless machine-gun fire mows down the attackers. Some run round the back, get into the communication trenches and fight their way into the underground fort. So, with hand-grenade and bayonet, the 1st Australian Infantry Brigade overpower the stubborn Turks within the fortress.

With the cry of "Allah! Allah!" reinforcements arrive for the enemy. The weary victors again repel the foe. Night brings no peace. But the captors of Lone Pine fight on, for they know full well that by their vicarious sacrifice they have pinned down all the Turkish reserves on the Ari Burnu front, and have left a minimum of the enemy to resist the Anzac and Suvla thrust for the peaks of Sari Bair.

Against German Officers' Trench.

The attack at Lone Pine drew many Turkish reserves to Anzac. Everywhere the enemy was on the alert. What wonder, then, that the occupants of German Officers' Trench were ready for the 6th Australians? At 11 o'clock on the night of the 6th, mines were exploded at the end of the trench nearest the Turk. At about midnight, the artillery momentarily ceased, and the Australian infantrymen crept from the end of their tunnelled communications which had been constructed under No Man's Land. The first and second waves of men were mown down almost to a man. The attack on trenches defended with scientifically-manned machine guns was almost a forlorn hope.

The Glory of the Australian Light Horse.

At Quinn's, Pope's, and Russell's Top the line was held by the Australian Light Horse. In common with their brothers of the infantry, attacks from these places were to be made.

Units of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade were holding Quinn's. From here, two hundred men in four lines of fifty each were to dash across No Man's Land in an endeavour to simulate a determined attack. Most of these gallant troopers died on the parapet from a hail of machine-gun fire.

From Pope's it was determined to attack Dead Man's Ridge. This effort was at first a little more successful. Three trenches were occupied, but after about two hours' desperate fighting our men ran short of bombs, and tried to withdraw, losing heavily during the operation.

The attack from "The Nek" was as glorious, as tragic, and, alas! as unsuccessful as from Quinn's. In the first line there were 150 men of the 8th Light Horse Regiment. When the artillery stopped, about 4.25 a.m., the Turk commenced a barrage of machine-gun fire. The Victorians clambered up on their firesteps, and at the word dashed into the awful storm of lead. Down went the whole line. But the second line, with a few scaling ladders, was ready to go over the top. Out they sped to certain death. The scaling ladders lay forlornly out on the fatal "Nek." The third line—150 men of the 10th Light Horse—followed and shared the fate of their comrades. The fourth line was stopped. Out of 450 men who started there were 435 casualties! Turkish prisoners stated that they never lost one man! Surely in military history there is no more splendid record of sacrifice than was enacted that fatal morning at Quinn's Post and Russell's Top.

But the Australian effort from the right and centre of the Anzac line had borne fruit, for at Rhododendron and on the Asma Dere, New Zealanders and other Australians were advancing to the stronghold of the Turk. Down at Suvla a great British landing was proceeding almost unopposed.

Part II.

The Anzac Thrust for "971."

The attack from the left of Anzac was perhaps one of the most complicated in history. The huge sprawling mass of the Sari Bair system was broken by a multiplicity of water-courses, the sides of which were often sheer cliffs, scored and fissured by torrential winter rains. The only possible means of approaching the peaks was by way of these water-courses. Now, it is a well-known military axiom[Pg 202]
[Pg 203] that troops cannot pass safely through a defile until the heights are made secure; it was also known that no troops could push up through two and a half miles of these savage, scrub-covered hills and be fit to fight a battle with a fresh, determined foe at the top. So the work had to be mapped out in stages.

Soldiers know that with more than one body of troops operating there is always a risk of someone being late. In night operations this risk is intensified. Further, it is very difficult to fit in what the staff officers call their "time and space problem." The men could not all go up one gully. They would arrive at the top a few men at a time, and could not attack on a broad enough front, but only at one point. So it was arranged that the force under the command of Major-General Godley should be divided into four columns—two to break the line and open up the lower parts of the deres; the other two following shortly after, and proceeding up the three main deres, pass through the covering forces to the assault of Chunuk Bair, Hill Q, and Koja Chemen Tepe.

During the nights of August 3, 4, and 5, the New Army troops were landed at Anzac, marched along the "Big Sap" to their prepared bivouacs on the hillside, and remained under cover until the eventful night. The 29th Indian Brigade, consisting of one Sikh and three Ghurka regiments, also arrived and went to their allotted place on the left. This made available:-

The Organization of General Godley's Army.

The task assigned to this force was to clear the lower ridges of the Sari Bair system, seizing the Turkish posts known as Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, and Bauchop's Hill. The advance was to commence from No. 2 and No. 3 Posts at 9 p.m. on August 6, a movement which would enable the right assaulting column to get within striking distance of Chunuk Bair with a minimum of fatigue.

Composed entirely of units from the 13th (New Army) Division, this column was to march northwards along the flat ground; then strike inland and seize Damakjelik Bair. This force would be able to hold out a helping hand to the new army landing at Suvla, and would also protect the left flank of the left assaulting column moving up the Aghyl Dere.

This column was to move up the Sazli Beit Dere and the Chailak Dere, commencing to move up these gullies at 10.30 p.m. Having cleared Rhododendron Spur, an attack was to be made on Chunuk Bair, eventually holding a line from Chunuk Bair to the head of Kur Dere, behind Hill Q.

The leading troops of this column were to cross the mouth of the Chailak Dere at 10.30 p.m. towards Walden's Point and up the Aghyl Dere, pass through the left covering force, assault Koja Chemen Tepe, and occupy a line from Koja Chemen Tepe to the head of Kur Dere, thus joining up with the right assaulting column.

The troops were ordered to be at the foot of the valley mentioned at 1 a.m. on the morning of August 7, to be used at the discretion of the General Officer Commanding.

For artillery support, in addition to the divisional artillery already in position, there were two squadrons of H.M. Navy:

The entire expedition was woefully deficient in heavy guns. Heavy howitzers, for searching reverse slopes, were desperately needed. A pathetic entry in General Godley's "Order of Battle" is, "Corps artillery: one 6in. howitzer!" Once again the men of Anzac were asked to do with their bayonets and rifles what should have been done with heavy guns.

The Night of August 6.

We must now look at the scene near No. 2 and 3 Posts. At Helles and Lone Pine the battles were raging. Turkish reserves were being called up in both places. So far everything was going well. With the fall of darkness the four Anzac columns began to prepare for their arduous night march and assault.

Everybody was to travel light. Kits and tunics were discarded. In short sleeves and web equipment, with a rifle and fixed bayonet, the men may not have looked uniform, but they were animated with a spirit that would dare anything. Just before dark men sewed white patches on their backs and on their sleeves, so as to indicate in the gloom who was friend and who was foe. Officers spoke to their men. The principal injunction was to press on up the hill. If any man lost touch, he was to join the nearest party and go resolutely on.

The Right Covering Force.

The four regiments of New Zealand Mounted Rifles were the first to move. It was their duty to break the Turkish line for the infantry brigades. At 9.30 p.m. they were to move out from the shelter of No. 2 and No. 3. The Wellington Mounted Rifles were to take Destroyer Hill and then Table Top. The Auckland Mounted Rifles were to take Old No. 3 Post, while the Otagos by way of Wilson's Knob, and the Canterburys by way of Taylor's Hollow and Walden's Point, were to clean up the lower ridges and capture Bauchop's Hill. This should give us the line, Destroyer Hill—Table Top—Bauchop's Hill, and open up the Sazli Beit, the Chailak and the Aghyl Deres for the infantry.

The Capture of Old No. 3.

Old No. 3 Post was that high piece of ground taken and abandoned at the end of May. Falling down towards the sea, it resolved itself into two lower spurs, on which were our No. 2 and new No. 3 Posts.

Every night, as soon as it was dark, the destroyer "Colne" stood in and went through the performance of throwing her searchlight on the heavily fortified slopes of Old No. 3, and commenced a half-hour's bombardment. The light guns of the destroyer did not cause much material damage to the carefully constructed overhead cover; but it became the custom for part of the garrison to leave their trenches and retire to their dugouts in the rear of the post on the southern banks of the Chailak Dere. Now, a searchlight beam, while it illumines everything in its path, makes the surrounding darkness appear blacker and even more intensified. As the bombardment continued, the Auckland Mounted Rifles crept up the Sazli Beit Dere. In fifteen minutes the party was lying quietly at the foot of the fortress. Squadron commanders got their final instructions, and a small party of strong men, picked for their skilled work with the bayonet, crept up through the scrub towards the crest. Led by a scout, this party dodged from bush to bush until they came to a sentry post of the enemy. Silently closing in from every side, the four New Zealanders sprang upon the sentries and overpowered them. "Crack!" went a rifle. One sentry had discharged his rifle harmlessly in the air as a New Zealand bayonet did its deadly work. So far we had no casualites. Up on the crest the destroyer's shells were crashing into the barbed wire and the heavy wooden beams of the overhead cover. In a few minutes the attacking party was lying all round the crest on the southern side. Presently the guns stopped, and the searchlight faded away. This was the signal! The Aucklanders rose and, spreading fanwise, went straight for the post. Into the covered trenches dived the Mounted Riflemen. The garrison fought gamely enough, but there could only be one end to it. The main body of the garrison came pouring back from their reserve trenches towards the post; but, caught in the open, they were no match for the men from Auckland. In a short time the whole work was completely in our hands. There was now time to closely examine the post. The trenches were roofed, just like those of Lone Pine, with heavy baulks of 8 x 3 sawn timber covered with sand bags. The guns on the destroyer had made no material impression on this cover, as shells striking it had glanced off and buried themselves uphill. In the front trenches was discovered a dugout with a complete equipment for electrically firing the 28 small square iron mines placed in front of the posts. Without the destroyer ruse and the quick, clean work of the attackers, the casualties would have been very heavy; as it was, we had only twenty casualties, while close on one hundred Turks lay dead within the Post and in its neighbourhood. The Auckland Mounted Rifles had signally avenged the Mounted Brigade losses at the end of May.

The Capture of Table Top.

Following on the heels of the Auckland Mounted Rifles up the Sazli Beit Dere, the Wellington Regiment silently cleaned up Destroyer Hill. As the Auckland Mounted men were stealing on Old No. 3, their comrades of the Wellington Mounteds were creeping up the Chailak Dere towards Table Top. Silently up the gully went the mounted men, the 6th Squadron leading. The 2nd Squadron was to take Table Top itself, and the 9th was to hold it afterwards. The first objective was Destroyer Hill.

It was quite dark, and difficult to see the way, but these gullies had been well reconnoitred by the scouts, and the column pressed on, dragging their telephone wire with them. After resting for a minute, the front line crept round a corner and came under heavy rifle fire. The leaders dashed straight at the flashes of rifle fire twenty yards away. Major Dick at the head of his men cried out "Come on, boys" when down he fell. But enough surged forward to overwhelm the party of Turks guarding the communication trench.

This was really a very strenuous piece of work, for from Table Top on one side, and Baby 700 on the other, communications ran down to Destroyer Hill. As fast as the enemy here was overpowered, more Turks crowded down to be dealt with.

The troopers took up a position above a well-defined track and picked off the enemy as they came along it. Presently a line of men came in single file down the ridge. They were to pass just above the anxious little group of mounted riflemen who were painfully conscious of their bright white patches. Were they our men, or were they Turks? By their chattering it was discovered they were a party of a hundred Turks on surrender bent. To the relief of the 6th Squadron, they filed past to our rear talking and laughing.

Meanwhile the squadron told off to assault Table Top stole quietly up to the head of the gully. With rifles spluttering in the scrub and bullets moaning on their flight out to sea, the Wellingtons scaled the steep clay sides of Table Top and went straight for the Turks. The fight did not last long. Up came the 9th and made the position secure. By his boldness and impetuosity the New Zealand Mounted man had again outclassed the enemy.

The path taken was the secret of success. The 6th Squadron who had taken the first trench came at Table Top from the front, and it took them over half an hour's hard climbing—cutting steps in the clay with bayonets—to reach the top. Foresight and ingenuity, boldness and determination were alike combined in these first successful captures.

A platoon of Maoris led by a Wellington officer also crept quietly up the Chailak Dere in order to get round the back of Table Top to co-operate with the Wellingtons. In the gully between Bauchop's Hill and Old No. 3 a party of Turks fired on the Maoris, who saw red and slew the Turks to a man. Chasing the enemy up the gully, the Maoris never stopped until they were round the back of Table Top, and were only with great difficulty restrained from tackling Sari Bair by themselves!

Bauchop's Hill.

The Otago and the Canterbury Mounted Regiments were to move off from No. 3 Post, traverse the flat ground to the northward, wheel to the right, and work up towards the high ground of Bauchop's Hill.

Lying in the low ground from about 9 o'clock, the South Islanders saw the white beam of the searchlight on the scrub and heard the scream of the destroyer's shells. At 9.30 the searchlight went black out. The men rose quietly—this was the signal for which they had been waiting. The Otagos wheeled to the right toward the trenches on Wilson's Knob—trenches they had lain opposite and observed with periscopes the last two months of waiting. Spurts of rifle fire ran round the scrub above Taylor's Hollow and on Walden's Point. Pushing up the Chailak Dere, the other squadrons of the Otagos came to the heavy barbed-wire entanglements stretching right across the dere and enfiladed by fire trenches on the spur. There was nothing to be done but tear the obstruction away. A section of the Field Troop of New Zealand Engineers, gallantly led by their subaltern, attacked the wire with great determination and, after sustaining many casualties, succeeded in opening the dere to the Otagos and Maoris who pressed on up the gully towards their objective.

The Canterburys with some Maoris in support, advanced in short rushes across the flat ground towards the trenches on the foothills. Not a shot was wasted. Bayonets alone were used. A Turkish machine gun on the spur leading to Walden's Point was responsible for many casualties, and this section of the attack was momentarily held up. "Tap, tap, tap" went the gun, exacting a heavy toll; but a subaltern, named Davidson, who gained the ridge higher up, collected a few ardent spirits, and with fixed bayonets, charged straight down the slope. The dirt thrown up by the angry bullets flicked in their faces as they ran straight for the gun. Down tumbled the subaltern, killed leading his men, but the remnants of the party fell upon the gun crew. The keen bayonets did their silent work, and the gun ceased its death-dealing tapping.

Methodically and irresistibly the Otagos and Canterburys pushed up the spurs until the greater part of Bauchop's Hill was in our hands. Many a duel between surprised Turk and desperate New Zealander was fought that night in the tangled scrub. The ground was so broken, the twists in the gullies so confusing, that all cohesion was lost. But the troopers knew that their duty was to press on up the hill, so up the hill they went. Trench after trench was taken at the bayonet point by Pakeha and Maori. Presently three great cheers announced the final capture of the hill. But the losses were severe. Many officers were shot down, including gallant Colonel Bauchop, who fell mortally wounded, and Captain Bruce Hay who had taken charge of a hesitating line, was killed shortly after he had bravely rallied them and led them on.

By now the Sazli Beit Dere, the Chailak Dere, and part of the Aghyl Dere was opened; the N.Z.M.R. Brigade had decisively smashed the Turkish line.

The Left Covering Force.

When the attack on the lower slopes of Bauchop's Hill was well under way the Left Covering Column moved out over the flat ground towards the mouth of the Aghyl Dere. Having rounded Walden's Point they at once came under the fire of the enemy. But pressing on, the advance guard of the 4th South Wales Borderers cleared all before them. The New Army men, resolutely led, were capable of great things. An hour after midnight they saw through the gloom the dark mass of the Damakjelik Bair, and quickly put the Turks to flight.

The lower reaches of the Aghyl Dere were now held by us on both sides; our left flank was secure; the army landing at Suvla had a definite point to reach out to.

The Right Assaulting Column.

By midnight the four battalions of the New Zealand Infantry Brigade were on their way up the deres to the assault of Chunuk Bair. There had been some delay at the start, as the overs from the high ground fell among the units as they marched along to the foot of the deres. The Canterburys went by way of the Sazli Beit, and the Otagos, Aucklands and Wellingtons proceeded up the Chailak.

The night was so dark and the country so rough and unreconnoitred that the leading files often crept up little branches of the main dere, and retracing their steps, caused a certain amount of confusion among the troops behind. So it happened on one of these occasions that part of the Canterburys struggled in the inky blackness of the night into a nullah that led them away from the objective. This caused a certain amount of delay, enemy rifle fire was very insistent, but clearing trench after trench, the men pushed slowly up the gullies. Stumbling over the boulders of the dry watercourse, charging each clump of scrub that spat out tongues of fire, the men of the infantry brigade pushed doggedly on.

Going up the Chailak, some of the Otago Infantry lost their way and "took Table Top" only to be gruffly ordered away by the Wellington Mounteds who had taken it some hours before! Part of the other two companies of the Otago Infantry—the 8th Southland and the 10th North Otago—passed Table Top at dawn and resolutely pressed up the dere, led by Major Frank Statham, a dauntless-spirited soldier and a born leader. About an hour after dawn this small band of heroes entered the Turkish communication trench running across the lower slopes of Rhododendron Spur from the Chailak Dere. They met with little resistance—indeed on reaching a point where they could overlook the Sazli Beit Dere, they were astonished to see the valley crowded with scared Turks streaming back towards Battleship Hill. Some of the bolder spirits of the Otagos went right on to the Apex and Chunuk Bair! If there had been a dozen leaders of the Statham type—men who understood country and men of resolution—the whole of Chunuk might have been ours by nine o'clock. The enemy was certainly demoralized and on the run.

A signalling officer of the Ghurkas now arrived and sent a message back to his brigade slowly proceeding up the Aghyl Dere.

The broken country delayed the rest of our brigade. The Canterburys proceeding up the Sazli Beit had some trouble at Destroyer Hill because, as we know, the Turkish communication trenches all led in that direction and fresh fugitive Turks were constantly arriving. It was well light before the Canterburys reached the lower slopes of Rhododendron. These slopes were for some time called Canterbury Ridge, but the older name of Rhododendron survived.

As it was now light, and the attack undoubtedly late, Chunuk could not be taken by surprise. But looking down towards the Suvla Flats, we were heartened by the great flotilla of ships and barges in Suvla Bay. Hope again ran high, for help seemed close at hand. With another effort the brigade pressed forward and reached the small depression now known as the Apex, but then christened the Mustard Plaster.

Orders came that an effort must be made to take Chunuk. The machine guns of the Otago Battalion established themselves along the front, thus securing the right flank, and doing great execution to the Turks who were being driven up the gully and were seemingly not aware that we had a footing on Rhododendron. The Wellington guns were then dug in on the left of the Otagos, but lined so as to face north and thus command Chunuk Bair which our infantry must assault. The Auckland guns were just a few yards behind; those of the Canterburys had not yet arrived. The order came for the advance with only half the guns posted. There was a little hesitancy, but Major S. A. Grant gallantly rushed forward and led the Aucklands over the crest. A thousand yards of the heights, thick with Turkish rifles, carried out rapid fire on that small band of heroes. Nothing could live in it and with the exception of a few survivors who gained a deserted Turk trench 120 yards in front, the whole were either killed or wounded. The gallant Major Grant was mortally wounded, dying from his wounds that evening. At this point, if the Turks had pushed out a counter attack, they could have cleared the Apex; but the machine guns were invaluable; they cut up the crest between them and undoubtedly saved the sadly harassed line.

The troops were now very tired. An advance of a little more than a mile over most difficult country had been achieved. Taking advantage of what little cover was available, the left flank threw out little parties to get in touch with the Left Assaulting Column, which, as we know, consisted of the 4th Australian Brigade and the 29th Indian Brigade.

This column in pushing up the Aghyl Dere had met very strenuous opposition, but had surprised many Turks and driven them up the gully. The Aghyl Dere forks about 2000 yards from the sea; the Australians went up the northern one so that the Suvla army, after getting in touch with the New Army troops on Damakjelik Bair could push on and prolong General Monash's left. By dawn, this brigade had reached the ridge overlooking the head of the Asma Dere. The Indian Brigade, guided by Major Overton, of the Canterbury Mounted Rifles, proceeded up the southern fork of the Aghyl Dere towards The Farm, which lay beneath the crest of Chunuk Bair. Poor Overton and his companion scout were killed while leading up the dere. After receiving the message from their signalling officer the right flank of the Indians felt out towards Rhododendron, and succeeded in coming into touch with the New Zealand Infantry Brigade; the 14th Sikhs felt out towards their left and came into touch with the 4th Australians.

The exhausted line made repeated efforts to get on, but the Turks were now thoroughly alive to the threatened turning movement and hastily flung fresh troops on to Abdel Rahman spur to impede the Australians, who were standing at bay in truly awful country—standing at bay with their left flank in the air—in touch with no one. The Suvla Bay was full of ships, but there seemed no movement towards the vital hills.

All that day the troops lay out on the hot hillside exhausted with their heavy night march. True the ambitious programme of the operation order had not been achieved in its entirety, but a marked and valuable advance had been made. The Anzac troops felt that at last they had room to breathe, for Anzac had been very cramped. Here, after four months of waiting and watching, we were standing on new ground. There was a certain thrill and a little pardonable pride in the realization that these strongly entrenched and defended hill-sides had been taken by a citizen soldiery from the flower of the Turkish Army.

There was one disagreeable disadvantage in holding these steep hills—that was the supply of water, ammunition and food. But the Indian Supply and Transport Corps was equal to the emergency. As soon as it was dark the drabis of the supply columns started with their pack mules, and though they paid a heavy toll in men and animals, undeterred they gallantly soldiered on.

The Canterbury machine guns arrived at the Apex that evening. The gunners, dead beat, had carried their guns, tripods, spare parts, their own rifles and equipment, with one hundred and twenty rounds of ammunition in their pouches, and a box of ammunition between every two men. They had marched and fought the clock round. Now they had to stand by and hold the line. There was no time for sleep. It was dig, dig, dig, and bury the dead.

The survivors of the Aucklands stayed out in their bomb-swept trench. The Otagos were withdrawn to the Rhododendron for reorganization.

So the night passed with the Auckland Battalion in front of the Apex; the Ghurkas and the Sikhs on the ridge overlooking The Farm; the 4th Australian Brigade on the Asma Dere. The New Zealand Mounted Rifles dug in and improved their line from Destroyer Hill to Table Top and Bauchop's Hill. General Travers's force was secure on Damakjelik Bair. But the Anzac Army was not yet in touch with the troops at Suvla.

Part III.

The Attack of August 8.

That night the whole of the attacking force was reorganized in three columns:—

The Right Column was to assault Chunuk Bair at dawn on the 8th. The Auckland Mounteds and the Maoris were to be brought up from the Right Covering Column.

The centre of this force was to attack Hill Q; the left was to attack the Abdel Rahman spur—the two attacks converging on Koja Chemen Tepe, the highest point in the range.

We must look in turn at the left, the centre, and the right.

Away on the left the Australians of the 4th Brigade moved up the Asma Dere towards the lower slopes of Abdel Rahman Bair. The intention was to gain a footing, then wheel to the right, and work up this rugged northern spur towards Koja Chemen Tepe. By this time, however, Turkish reserves had accumulated all along the rear slopes of the whole mountain system. With machine guns and shrapnel the Ottoman soldiery assailed the Australians, who were presently almost surrounded. Hopelessly outnumbered, wearied with incessant fighting, the gallant 4th Brigade fell back to its former line.

In the centre the men of the 39th New Army Brigade and the Indians fared little better. Pushing on past both sides of The Farm the troops assailed the lower spurs leading up to Hill Q and the left of Chunuk. But the Turkish machine gunners and riflemen were fresh from reserve. They held the high ground with all its advantages, they were fighting in a country with which they were familiar, and compelled our line to come to a definite standstill on the slopes overlooking The Farm.

The Capture of Chunuk Bair.

On the right things were going better. At dawn the men of the Wellington Infantry Regiment were ready again to attack the fatal crestline. The tired troops of yesterday were once again to essay the seemingly impossible.

At 4.15 in the grey of the morning, the Wellington Infantry and the 7th Gloucesters, led by Lieut.-Colonel Malone, commenced the desperate struggle for Chunuk Bair. So far as the New Zealanders are concerned, August 8, 1915, was the blackest day on the Peninsula. But the prize was the strategical key to the Gallipoli Peninsula. Win the Ridge and we should win the Narrows. Open the Narrows to the Navy, and Constantinople was ours! Surely a prize worth fighting for. So from the scanty trenches on Rhododendron Spur leapt the Wellingtons and the 7th Gloucesters.

By their dash and audacity the crestline was soon gained. We now had a footing on the ridge, and to cling to that foothold and extend from it was now the pressing need. The Wellingtons and Gloucesters started to dig in, but the enemy evidently made up his mind to cut the New Zealanders off. A body of snipers picked off all the machine gun crews. When Malone's battalion was seen marching along the skyline four machine guns were pushed up to him. These guns never came back. When half way up the ridge a veritable hail of lead burst round them, and they were so badly damaged that only one gun could be reconstructed from the remnants of the four; but it got into position and did good service until the whole of the gun crew were killed or wounded.

Two machine guns that were to support the right flank of the attackers from the Apex were pushed forward on the slope to avoid being silhouetted against the crest line. The Turkish snipers now concentrated on these guns. Soon all the personnel were killed or wounded. A Maori machine gun close by lost their officer killed and had nine other casualties, but a few men fought their gun all day without a murmur. This was the only machine gun left in action on this flank.

The devoted party on the crest was assailed with every variety of shell, hand grenades and maxims. Time after time, Turks advanced to the attack but were driven off at the point of the bayonet. The Gloucesters who had lost all their officers now came down the ridge to the help of the New Zealanders. They seemed dazed, but instinct and the example of the New Zealanders convinced them that the bayonet was the weapon for the Turk. Time and time again they charged and cleared their front.

The Glory of New Zealand.

This forward Turkish trench became a veritable death trap. Not far behind it was another line that resolved itself into our real line of resistance. But some ardent spirits of the Aucklands, Otagos and Wellingtons decided to stick to their forward line. No one—except the dozen badly-wounded survivors—can conceive the horrors of that awful front line trench. It was practically dark when they arrived in the early hours of the morning. When daylight came it proved to be a fatal position. About ten or fifteen yards to their front the ground sloped rapidly away into a valley until again it revealed itself about six hundred yards away. When it was light this far away hill was seen to be occupied by about a battalion of Turks—a battalion advancing to attack this forward trench of Chunuk! A few long range shots were all that could be fired. Then came the long wait while the attackers crossed the gully. To the waiting New Zealanders—the New Zealand infantrymen who had penetrated farthest into Turkey—the minutes seemed hours. But a shower of hand grenades announced the beginning of the end. From the dead ground in the front came bombs and more bombs. Away from the left came the Turkish shrapnel. To fire at all, our men had to stand up in the trench and expose themselves almost bodily to view. One by one they died on Chunuk, until after a few hours desperate struggle against overwhelming forces the only New Zealanders left alive were a dozen severely wounded. But not for a long time did the first Turk dare show his head. Then into the trench several crept with their bayonets to kill the wounded. Fortunately a Turkish sergeant arrived and saved the lives of the wounded who were carried off to the German dressing stations behind Hill Q. In all the history of the Gallipoli Campaign there is no finer story of fortitude, no finer exhibition of heroism and self-sacrifice, than was shown in this forward trench of Chunuk on that desperate August morning. Here died some of the noblest characters in the New Zealand Army. August 8 was a day of tragedy for New Zealand, but no day in our calendar shines with greater glory.

All that day midst the shriek of the Turkish shrapnel, the dull booming of the British naval guns, the incessant rattle of musketry and machine gun fire, that heroic band held on. With their faces blackened with dust and sweat, with the smell of the picric acid assailing their nostrils, with their tongues parched for the lack of water, up there in the blazing heat of the August sun those gallant souls held on.

The Auckland Mounted Rifles and the Maoris arrived at Rhododendron about 3 a.m. and were ordered to the firing line about 11 o'clock. The Aucklanders went out to help Colonel Malone on the ridge. On came the Turks again. The line of infantry and mounteds drove them back at the point of the bayonet. A portion of Chunuk Bair was undoubtedly ours, but at what a cost! Many of the finest young men of the Dominion lay dead upon the crest. Colonel Malone himself, one of the striking characters in the New Zealand army, was killed as he was marking out the trench line.

It was during this struggle for Chunuk Bair that Corporal Bassett of the Divisional Signallers undertook to carry the telephone line up on to the ridge and gained the first V.C.[Pg 222]
[Pg 223] for New Zealand. In full daylight, with the approach swept by rifle and machine gun fire, with the Turkish field artillery from Abdel Rahman mercilessly searching the slopes, Bassett dashed and then crept, then dashed and crept again, up to the forward line on Chunuk. These lines were cut again and again, but Bassett and his fellow linesmen of the Signals went out day and night to mend the broken wires. No V.C. on the Peninsula was more consistently earned. This was not for one brilliant act of bravery, but for a full week of ceaseless devotion.

The Maoris were sent over more to the left and most gallantly hung on to an almost untenable position in the neighbourhood of The Farm. They suffered grievous losses uncomplainingly. At dusk the Otago Infantry went out to reinforce what was left of the Wellington and Auckland Infantry, the 7th Gloucesters, and the Auckland Mounteds. Already the Otagos had suffered terribly, but throughout that awful night of August 8 all previous experiences were as nothing. It was a night of agony by thirst, of nerve-wracking bomb explosions, and of bayonet jabs in the dark.

In the darkness a little much-needed water was carried out to the thirsty men. Hand grenades, food and reinforcements went out to the battered trenches; more machine guns were sent—three from the Cheshire Regiment, three from the Wiltshires, and one from the Wellington Mounted Rifles. The Cheshire guns came back as there was ample without them. This second lot of four guns was never seen again.

Still another effort had to be made, for the hold we had on Chunuk had to be increased. It was the most important capture, so far, in the whole campaign; but the Suvla army still clung to the low ground at Suvla, leaving the Australians with their left flank out in the air waiting for the necessary support to carry them on to victory up the Abdel Rahman.

There was no time to lose. The partial success on Chunuk must be exploited. We could not afford to wait on Suvla.

The Ghurkas Attack Hill Q.

Once again on the night of August 8 the columns were reorganized for the attack:

No. 1 Column—Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston.

26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one Section).

Auckland Mounted Rifles.

Wellington Mounted Rifles.

N.Z. Infantry Brigade.

7th Gloucesters.

8th Welsh Pioneers.

The Wellington Mounted Rifles came up from Table Top during the night, but the other troops were already on Chunuk Bair. Their duty on the morrow was to consolidate their position, and if possible extend it.

No. 2 Column—Major-General H. V. Cox.

21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section).

4th Australian Infantry Brigade.

29th Indian Infantry Brigade.

39th Brigade (less the 7th Gloucesters).

6th Battalion South Lancashire Regiment.

This column was to attack the heights of Hill Q.

No. 3 Column—Brigadier-General A. H. Baldwin.

These troops were from the Army Corps Reserve. They were to assemble in the Chailak Dere on the night of the 8th, move up to Rhododendron Spur in the dark, and getting in touch with the No. 1 Column on Chunuk Bair, move up the slopes towards Hill Q.

Troops moving up defiles in the dark are always late, for so many factors seem to work adversely. Wounded men and transport mules will persist in coming down and blocking the road. Wounded men are generally past caring about the fortunes of the fight. Indian mule drivers know they have to get back to their depot and are perhaps not told the proper track to take. This, of course, is soon regulated when things are normal; but while a fight is on there is a good deal of confusion.

No. 1 Column carried out its task and held on to Chunuk Bair; the Ghurkas struggled up the steeps of Hill Q, their ranks becoming visibly thinner and thinner until the watchers from the posts below wondered if there would be enough momentum to carry them to the top. But they undoubtedly did get there. The Navy now commenced firing over the crest in order to debar the Turk from pressing a counter-attack. Some of the shells fell short among the Ghurkas. Instead of getting help from Baldwin, who was only at The Farm, a few heavy shells crashed on to the summit. This was one of the tragedies of Anzac. Instead of help came our own shells. It is the price that must be paid for artillery support in broken country. These things are unavoidable—they are the misfortune of war.

But the enemy saw his chance. Launching a counterattack, the gallant handful of survivors was swept off the crest and into the valley below. Simultaneously a flood was loosed on the 4th Australians; wave after wave was hurled against the New Zealanders up on the shoulder of Chunuk Bair; flushed with success and confident in the overwhelming superiority of numbers, wave after wave of skirmishers was thrown around Baldwin's forces at The Farm until the column was well-nigh annihilated. General Baldwin himself was killed with many of his commanding officers. The survivors retired to their original position on the ridge overlooking The Farm.

The only force to hold its ground was General Johnston's on Chunuk Bair, where a poor trenchline of 200 yards was occupied. Our fellows were too exhausted to dig in the hard ground and rock of the crest-line. It was impossible to put out wire.

This brings us to the end of Sunday, August 9. The battle at Lone Pine was still raging. Down at Suvla, high officers were trying to infuse a little energy into an army that had become moribund.

Worn out with three days and three nights of fighting under a merciless sun, with a short ration of water, suffering tremendous losses, the New Zealanders and other troops on Chunuk Bair were withdrawn for a little rest on the evening of August 9. Their place was taken by the 6th Loyal North Lancashires and the 5th Wiltshires. It was estimated that more than two battalions could not be usefully employed on the ridge.

We Lose the Crest of Chunuk.

At dawn on the 10th, these two battalions had disappeared! Some of the North Lancashires who escaped explained that the Wiltshires arrived tired and did not dig in; they were attacked by the Turks with knives and bombs; the Wiltshires ran in towards the Lancashires and the machine guns, and so masked their fire. So were these two battalions wiped out!

About 6 a.m. the Turks delivered their famous counterattack down the slopes of Chunuk Bair, and endeavoured to get at the New Army regiments on the left of the Apex. But the four machine guns of the Canterbury Battalion were on the left front of the Apex, and the two remaining guns of the Auckland Battalion were on the Apex itself; two guns of the Wellington Battalion were back on the Rhododendron with the Maori gun and the flank gun of the Otago Infantry—these four could fire over the heads of the guns on the Apex, and commanded the whole of the approaches from Chunuk Bair. The small details of training, generally found so irksome, now proved of value. The gunners had already attended to their guns at the first streak of day. A Canterbury gunner, finding his gun difficult to adjust reported to the N.Z. Brigade Machine Gun Officer, who was sighting the gun on to the ridge when the first line of the Turkish attack came over at that very point. This gun had the range at once, and followed by keeping the sights a little in advance of the enemy. The other guns quickly took up the rat-a-tat; the range was sent to the other five guns. The N.Z. Mounted Brigade machine guns on Table Top and Bauchop's Hill also found a good target at extreme range. The New Zealand field guns, especially the howitzers, also opened up at once.

The Turkish line consisted of from 250 to 300 men at about one pace interval. By the time they reached a point immediately in front of the guns, the whole of the N.Z. machine guns were concentrated at that point in accordance with the orders hurriedly issued. Thus was created a death zone through which the enemy could not pass. They fell over literally like oats before a reaper. Twenty two lines came down each as true and steady as the first. They moved at a jog trot with their rifles at the port. The machine gunners with the assistance of the Navy and the Field Artillery mowed down line after line until the Turkish effort was spent. A number of Turks crawled back during the forenoon. They were not molested by the machine gunners, who admired their bravery so much as to leave them alone.

The New Zealand Infantry Brigade was relieved at 2 p.m. that day, but the machine guns were left in to stiffen up the New Army regiments.

At about 2.30 a.m. there was an attack and much confusion. The Turks showed on the top of the Apex, but the two flank guns of the Canterbury Battalion quickly dispersed them. Order was only restored at daylight. The presence of the N.Z. machine guns had saved the situation. The N.Z. Infantry Brigade again came in with the Aucklanders on the Apex. The next morning the Turks occupied the point of the Apex, and it was decided to take a Vickers Maxim out to the front and open up on them from an unexpected quarter. The gun was just in position when a peculiar incident occurred. An Otago man of the 5th Reinforcements was working in front of where the gun took up position. He was told to stop work when the gun was ready and to crouch down so that the gun could fire over him. Against all the rules of war he immediately lighted his pipe. The Turks, only 80 yards away, opened fire with about twenty rifles on to the light. Their rifle flashes disclosed their position and the machine gun drove them out.

The New Zealand Infantry were relieved again in a short time and the machine gunners moved back to Rhododendron. On the first morning after their move back, a blockhouse was found to have been built in No Man's Land during the night. It now became plain what the Turks had been trying to do, but this had been prevented as long as the N.Z. Infantry were in possession. This blockhouse was a great nuisance to our men at the Apex, until it was summarily dealt with by the Canterburys later in the month.

Part IV.

The Battle of Sari Bair.

The Suvla Landing.

We know that the thrust towards Koja Chemen Tepe from Suvla Bay failed. Let us examine the causes of the failure. For of what use is history if we do not seek to understand its lessons?

The story of the failure at Suvla Bay is not only the story of the misfortune of war. It ranks with the tragedy of Kut-el-Amara as an illustration of what must happen to a nation which accepts world-wide responsibilities and does not keep itself in a state of preparedness for possibilities.

The people of the British Empire did not realize that an efficient army was the complement to a powerful navy. For battleships cannot cross deserts or climb mountains. Indeed, battleships, as every soldier who was on Gallipoli Peninsula knows, are of incalculable value for moral effect, but for supporting troops ashore in mountainous country they are almost useless. Their guns cannot get at the enemy behind the crest. Only on rare occasions can ships' guns search reverse slopes. Ships are built to fight ships—not to act as army corps artillery.

No regular soldiers were available for these subsidiary operations in the East, but the next best—an army corps of the New Army—was available for this advance over broken, unreconnoitred country.

The 9th Army Corps, under Lieut.-General Sir F. Stopford, was organized as follows:—

The 10th (Irish) Division (Lieut-General Sir B. Mahon) was composed of the 29th Brigade (detached for service at Anzac), the 30th Brigade, and the 31st Brigade.

The 11th (Northern) Division (Major-General F. Hammersley), consisted of the 32nd, the 33rd, and the 34th Brigades.

The 13th (Western) Division (Major-General F. C. Shaw), was also taken from the Suvla Army to act at Anzac. The three brigades were the 38th, 39th, and the 40th.

In that four of his brigades were landed at Anzac, General Stopford did not have anything like an army corps. His divisional artillery was lamentably weak, and his corps artillery almost non-existent. True, he had the support of some warships, but as we know, this support is not so much material as moral.

It was estimated that a force of 20,000 rifles would overpower a thin screen of Turks, which was reckoned at about 4000.

The 53rd and 54th Territorial Division (of infantry only) were to arrive later and be used as a general reserve.

The Hill Features of the Suvla Plain.

The country was not so hilly as at Anzac. From Lala Baba, looking due east, one saw the high ground running from the Gulf of Saros round towards the two Anafartas and so to the underfeatures of Sari Bair near Abdel Rahman Bair.

The plan of campaign was to land during the night of August 6/7 at three beaches to the north and south of Nibrunesi Point, push back the screen of enemy scouts holding the sparsely-wooded plain and rolling country, and occupy the hills about Anafarta, and so take a measure of the strain off the direct push for Koja Chemen Tepe. Having got astride the high ground near Anafarta the Turkish communications from Bulair to their Ari Burnu front would be imperilled.

A reference to the map will show that the conception was a reasonable one if the country was not strongly held. Resolute troops, vigorously led, might have reasonably achieved a success. But Chance did not smile upon our efforts, and instead of closely examining the structure of this high ground inland, we must look at the tactical features much nearer the coast line.

On the extreme left flank, and overlooking the Gulf of Saros, was the long ridge known as Kiretch Tepe Sirt. The southern foothills of this range merged into an expanse of[Pg 231]
[Pg 232] cultivated land, bounded on the east by the Anafarta Hills, and on the west by the Salt Lake. During the winter months the Salt Lake takes all the flood waters from the surrounding hills, and the rough weather brings in the salt water. But in August the water had disappeared and there was a circular expanse of grey, sticky sand, measuring a mile across.

About a mile in a south-easterly direction from Lala Baba was the tactical feature christened "Chocolate Hill." The gorse and grass on this hill caught fire during the fighting, and one part of it became a more pronounced reddish-brown than ever. The southern portion was not burnt, and is distinguished on the map as Green Hill. Standing on Chocolate Hill and looking towards the east, one saw, half left, the high ground called Scimitar Hill, and half right, the ill-starred Ismail Oglu Tepe, known to our men as "W" Hills. The "W" Hills looked down on to the valley of the Asmak Dere, which ran into the sea about two miles south of Lala Baba, and running generally in a westerly direction towards Biyuk Anafarta, threw out two forks, one to the foot of Abdel Rahman Bair, the other towards Kaiajik Aghala (Hill 60). The latter fork was the Asma Dere, which, running up past Hill 60, drained the watershed of Abdel Rahman Bair. Just to the south of the Azmak Dere, and between Kaiajik Aghala and the sea, was the high ground of Damakjelik Bair.

So it was intended that the Suvla Army, pushing on across the flat plains of Suvla in the early morning, should get in touch with their New Army comrades on Damakjelik and prolong the right of the new Anzac line held by General Travers's and the 4th Australian Brigades.

The Landing Beaches.

The day before the battle the component parts of the Army Corps were widely scattered. Part was at Mitylene, 120 miles away; part was at Mudros, 50 miles away; the remainder at Kephalos, on Imbros, about 16 miles away. As soon as it was fully dark, these three bodies of troops were speeding on their way to Suvla. Three beaches were to be used. Beach A was in the centre of Suvla Bay. Beaches B and C were to the south of Nibrunesi—B for infantry and C for the disembarkation of artillery.

At 8 o'clock on the night of the 6th, the force sailed from Kephalos with its collection of water boats, barges and lighters. At 9.30 p.m., the flotilla silently crept towards Nibrunesi, and the disembarkation commenced. The 32nd and 33rd Brigades got ashore expeditiously at Beach B and rushed Lala Baba.

Then occurred the first disaster. Beach A was not reconnoitred, and the barges containing the 34th Brigade ran aground. Men jumped into the water and waded ashore. A few Turkish snipers on Hill 10 and Lala Baba crept among the troops, who were new to war. In the dark, confusion reigned. When daylight came the troops were ashore, but that was about all. There was no pressing on. The men were shaken by their experience of the night. The line ran round from Lala Baba across the flat ground to Hill 10.

Trouble at the Beaches.

Just as it was getting light, six battalions of the 10th Division arrived from far-distant Mitylene. These troops were to go out to the extreme left flank. They should have landed at Beach A, but owing to the shallows and the difficulties already experienced there, the Navy took them to Beach B, south of Nibrunesi! This again upset the prearranged plan. These battalions fell in and marched along the mile and a half of open beach towards the left flank, passing behind and through the men who had earlier experienced the mess caused by inefficient reconnaissance.

By the time the remaining battalions of the 10th Division arrived, the Navy had found a small landing place in one of the little bays on the southern side of Suvla Point, just inside Suvla Bay. These men of the Irish Division scrambled ashore and pushed on to the high ground of Karakol Dagh.

When noon came the sun beat down on those poor citizen soldiers, worn out and tired by their long sea journeys, harassed by daring snipers in the dark, not very resolutely led, not at home in this hot and dusty country, tortured by thirst, the improvized and intricate machine went to pieces at the first rough jolt. Most of that day the Suvla Army sat down and waited for something to turn up. But during the afternoon some bold spirits led two battalions of the 11th Division across the flat ground and secured a foothold on the Chocolate Hills. So, from a point above Karakol Dagh, the line ran through Hill 10 and past the Salt Lake to the Chocolate Hills, about two miles from the outpost of their New Army comrades on Damakjelik Bair.

That night the Anzac troops, as we know, were holding the line Damakjelik-Asma Dere-Rhododendron Spur.

The Morning of August 8.

This morning—the morning when Malone stood triumphant on the crest of Chunuk Bair; when the Australians were pluckily attempting to carry Abdel Rahman—passed strangely inactive at Suvla. Following on their exhaustion and the heat of the midday sun, the men undoubtedly suffered agonies from thirst. There was water in the Suvla Plain, but no proper provision was made to take advantage of it. Instead, much effort was directed towards getting the supplies known to be somewhere at hand in ships and lighters. So one thing reacted on another—the bad landing beach at A caused exhaustion in the troops disembarked there, and was the cause of greater confusion when the troops for the left flank were landed on the right. This caused delay, which meant that more of the precious water was consumed than was allowed for. As a matter of fact, such was the lack of ordinary supervision, numbers of men landed without any water in their water-bottles at all! Those who had water consumed it during the waiting of the day. So General Stopford brought off mules to carry water in preference to artillery horses, and created a further excuse for delay—not enough supporting artillery! At the Anzac landing horses could not be landed, but willing men manhandled the guns up precipitous cliffs to their positions. No one seemed to think of this at Suvla. But the Generals in command seemed fairly satisfied with the progress of things. General Hamilton, over at Imbros, from where he could best keep touch of his widely-scattered army, got so uneasy that he could not resist hurrying to Suvla to see why the advance had been hung up. Nothing was done, but one battalion, the 6th East York Pioneers, occupied Scimitar Hill and dug in for the night. It was decided to make an advance early in the morning. Then an extraordinary incident occurred. The higher command evidently did not know where the battalions were. The 6th East Yorks were considered to be the freshest, and were ordered to the attack on another hill in the morning. This battalion had taken Scimitar Hill, but those in command did not seem to know it. Accordingly, the 6th East Yorks abandoned their position on this valuable hill without an effort and marched back to Sulajik!

The Next Day—August 9.

Early in the morning the 32nd Brigade attacked the hills towards Anafarta, but were repulsed and continued to occupy a line running north and south through Sulajik.

This day the New Zealanders clung to the ridge of Chunuk Bair, the Ghurkas and 6th South Lancashires struggled on to Hill Q, but the Suvla Army, worn out with fatigue and thirst, lay along the low ground stretching from the Chocolate Hills towards Kiretch Tepe Sirt.

In this day's attack on Scimitar Hill, serious scrub fires broke out and held the attention of the troops for the rest of the day. At noon the units fell back to a line between Sulajik and Green Hill.

A New Move that Failed.

General Hamilton concluded that on this right flank success would be delayed, and decided to land part of his reserve—the infantry brigades of the 54th Division—up at the new landing place near Cape Suvla, so that they might advance, with the 10th Irish Division, along Kiretch Tepe Sirt, then thrust towards Kavak Tepe and capture the line Ejelmer Bay to Anafarta, thus turning the Turkish flank.

The infantry of the 53rd (Territorial) Division landed during the night of the 8/9th, and were to assist the units on the right flank. The advance of these newly-arrived territorials was a pitiable thing. Crossing the open country from Lala Baba towards the Anafarta Hills, the enemy artillery, now considerably increased, took heavy toll. The enemy again fought his sniping screen with conspicuous ability. The attack could not get on. Realizing that the troops were unequal to the situation, it was decided to dig in on a line from near the Azmak Dere, through the knoll east of the Chocolate Hill, to the ground held by the 10th Division on Kiretch Tepe Sirt.

On August 11, the infantry brigades of the 54th Division were disembarked and placed in reserve. An attack on Kavak Tepe-Tekke Tepe was planned by Sir Ian Hamilton, but after a series of minor disasters the projected night march and attack was abandoned. General Stopford was now thoroughly convinced that his troops could not be expected to do more. Even if they gained the high ground, he considered that the supply of water and food would be too difficult and well-nigh impossible to arrange. There seemed nothing to do but to dig in everywhere and strengthen the line.

So ended the great battle for the heights of Sari Bair. The Turk still held the higher ground at Helles, Anzac, and Suvla.

Part V.

After the Battle.

The Trenches on the Crest of Chunuk.

There has been placed on record a statement that the trenches on the crest of Chunuk were badly sited. No soldier of experience would have made such a criticism if he understood the facts. Bare justice is due to Colonel Malone and those New Zealanders who took Chunuk and held it. It has been said that the trench line was the wrong side of the crest, and that there was not a good field of fire.

What would anyone else have done?

We all know that a trench should have the best field of fire. But one can easily get in a training manual what one seeks for in vain during a pitched battle! In the carefully prepared treatise, principles are laid down and their application is expounded. But the enemy is not firing bullets and hand grenades in the book. The ground in the book, too, is easy to dig.

Look for a moment at this sketch of a typical crest.

It is obvious that the trenchline we have gained is the best possible one under the circumstances. No one contends that it is the best one theoretically, but at least one has a certain amount of protection. Anyone who goes forward on to the crest itself is killed by bomb or rifle fire; anyone who goes over the enemy's side of the crest to dig posts that have a good field of fire is also sure to be killed. This, however, does not deter determined soldiers from trying. The men who did try on Chunuk were buried long after by the Turks, and cannot reply to criticism—criticism which is cheap, and, in this case, futile.

The only thing to do is to dig deep zig-zag saps through the crest line, put T heads on each sap, and so get posts with a field of fire—posts that can be connected by sapping. A determined enemy—and the Turk was very determined—will not let attacking troops do exactly what they wish, otherwise war might be made safe, and the front line become more popular than it is!

The fact remains that the trenches on Chunuk Bair were the only possible ones for such a situation. Those of us who have found it necessary to entrench on a crest line in close proximity to a determined foe, know that what was done on Chunuk could not have been done any better by anybody else; and there, for the present, the matter must stand.

The Water Problem.

The question of water was perhaps our most terrible problem during the week-long battle. It had always been one of the problems of Anzac, but that awful week in August was the culmination.

In anticipation of the offensive, great efforts were made to overcome the shortage. It was known that good wells existed on the other side of the watershed where the Turkish armies bivouacked, and in the neighbourhood of Kabak Kuyu on the Suvla Plain. Until we could get these wells, we had to make extraordinary provision. From Egypt, India and England, every class of water receptacle was procured. Milk cans came from England; fantassahs from the caravans of Egypt; pakhals from India; sealed petrol tins by the thousand, filled with water from the Nile, arrived and were stacked ready for the advance. Water from a petrol tin looks rusty and tastes abominably, but it is water, and men count themselves fortunate to get it.

The value of water in the campaign can be realized from one illustration. Success seemed within our grasp when we got a foothold on the crest of Chunuk. Tacticians of the Army consider that from there success should have been exploited—that all available reserves should have been thrown in there and so distributed along Hill Q to Koja Chemen Tepe. General Sir Ian Hamilton has put it on record that he was tempted to throw his reserves into the balance at Chunuk Bair, but each time the problem of the water supply dissuaded him from putting any more thirsty men at Anzac. That they were ultimately more thirsty at Suvla is part of the tragedy, which is easy to point out now, but difficult then to foresee.

All through the fight on Chunuk Bair men's throats were parched for the want of water. Intense thirst is one of the cruellest torments man can suffer. Hot weather, hill climbing, and the excitement of fighting combine to accentuate the desire to drink. On occasions like this, the contents of two water bottles do not last long. When the New Zealand infantry went out on to Chunuk Bair, they had marched all the night before and lain out on the hillside during the torrid day. Their water was soon consumed. Water bottles were carefully collected from the dead, more carefully even than ammunition. The short supply gallantly carried up by the Indian transport service did not go far, but it saved the situation.

Perhaps the success of the Australian and New Zealand divisions in this war was due to having in their ranks skilled and resourceful men who had spent most of their lives solving problems for themselves. In any case the New Zealand Engineers took advantage of the well near No. 2 and developed it to the full. Not that there were no difficulties. On one occasion the bearings got heated, metal ran out of the couplings, and the engine broke down. Spare parts could be made on the warships, but that meant delay. We were getting 1,000 gallons per hour, and pumping 20 hours a day. This meant keeping 2 divisions supplied; so one old sapper filed up a new bearing out of the gun-metal coupling off a service pump! Again, owing to the lubricating oil being so poor, the cylinder rings used to burn on to the piston, and had to be forced off. First one was broken, and then another. New rings were made by cutting up a Turkish 4.5 shell with a hack-saw! The job was a lengthy one, but as the shell was the right thickness, they proved to be A1. After that a few were always kept on hand. Not without ingenuity and knowledge born of experience did the troops at Anzac get the water denied their unfortunate comrades at Suvla.

The Fifth Reinforcements.

If ever mortals were projected into a hell of torture and suffering it was the men of the 5th Reinforcements. Coming straight from the transports, they arrived at No. 2 Post on August 8, and were summarily introduced to modern war. Hundreds of wounded had been carried down from the bloody slopes of Chunuk and were laid in rows in the neighbourhood of No. 2 Post, in readiness to be carried along the Big Sap, and so to the piers as soon as it was dark. These men of the 5th Reinforcements had served little apprenticeship to active service; but they had heard of the casualties of the landing at Anzac and Helles, and some have written that at first they were of the impression that these rows of wounded men were an everyday occurrence! In a sort of nightmare, not knowing whither they were going, or even the name of the dere they traversed, these men dived into the trenches on Chunuk Bair and found themselves among Wellington and Otago Infantry, Auckland and Wellington Mounteds—the heroic band of brothers clinging to Chunuk and prepared to die there. A great proportion did die there; but they held Chunuk! Into this company of heroes stumbled the men of the Fifths.

They were greeted with "dig for your lives for dawn is not far away, and if you haven't got cover by then, you're dead men!" All through the night the digging, the bombing, and the shooting continued. Rifle barrels got so hot they had to be discarded, and a rifle from a dead man used. Ammunition and water were collected. Some men used three rifles, turn and turn about.

With dawn came the lyddite shells from the Navy. Dense rolls of yellow smoke curled round the hills. Small coloured flags were waved to indicate our position to the Navy.

The suffering from thirst was terrible. When relief did come, men crowded round the wells at No. 2 and drank tin after tin of the precious water.

The Valleys of Torment.

During the nights of August 7, 8, 9, and 10, the wounded men of Anzac seemed to encompass the sum total of human suffering. Travelling light to avoid the heat of the day, a badly wounded man who could not walk had to lie out all through the long cold night. To men without blankets and tunics, and often without a shirt because of the noonday heat, those nights were excruciatingly cold. Those who could walk were in fairly good stead. They could reach[Pg 242]
[Pg 243] the dressing stations near the beach, and get near the piers when the Red Cross barge came alongside. So it happened that the least wounded were always ready to be evacuated; the others had to lie in those stricken gullies until the few overworked stretcher-bearers could carry them down. The lack of facilities for evacuating wounded was as pronounced as at the landing. Of course, in war it must always happen that during big battles things will go wrong. That seems unavoidable, and conditions generally adjust themselves after a few days. But to get a parallel to the sufferings at Anzac one must go back to the days of the Crimea.

The Sazli Beit Dere and the Chailak Dere were crowded with walking cases; those who could not walk, waited in vain for stretcher-bearers, then born of desperation, crawled, crept, and rolled down the slopes into the gullies. Here there was a certain amount of protection against Turkish fire. Ghurkas, New Army men, and New Zealanders painfully crept towards the low ground. Perhaps the gully would lead too far away from the direction of No. 2 Post; men at the last stages of exhaustion would give up here and wait for the stretcher-bearers who could not come, for they were overwhelmed with cases nearer home. Medical officers, padres, dentists and stretcher-bearers toiled against one of the most heartbreaking experiences of the war. Up in these gullies of torment men died by the hundred—died of thirst, of awful bomb wounds and of exposure.

Down near No. 2 Post was an awful sight—a thousand wounded men lying in rows and in heaps. Crash would come a Turkish shell and the already wounded would be wounded once again. Mule trains moving up and down to the Big Sap raised great clouds of fine dust that settled on everything, increasing the discomfort already caused by wounds, fever, flies and the alternating heat and cold.

Barges full of mules would pull in to be disembarked. The stretcher bearers would help with the unloading, and without any cleaning, for there was no time to worry about the niceties, the serious cases would be placed on the bottom of the barge and towed out to the hospital ship or carrier.

When a string of Red Cross barges would come in, the walking cases would naturally crowd up to the pier in anticipation of getting off; there was a tendency to leave the helpless man on the beach, but the medical officers and orderlies watched as well as they were able, and sent the serious cases to the hospital ships as soon as possible, the less serious ones going to Lemnos by the hospital carrier.

It is difficult to conceive what clean sheets, soft food, the sight of the army nurses, and the sound of their English voices, meant to the tired men of Anzac. Worn to shadows by hardships and suffering, these men could not understand the present situation. For if their experiences had been awful, they expected little else. As pioneers in a desperate enterprise they knew the path would not be strewn with ease and comfort, but rather with danger and pain—and their expectations were realized at Anzac; but here on the hospital ships where there were warm baths, clean underclothing, and the tender ministrations of the army nurses, the suffering New Zealander was literally overwhelmed with his good fortune.