Kitabı oku: «Glorious Deeds of Australasians in the Great War», sayfa 5
CHAPTER VII
THE CHARGE AT KRITHIA
The men of Anzac were now called upon to take their part in a great concerted attack, made by all the forces commanded by Sir Ian Hamilton on Gallipoli Peninsula. Those familiar with the operations in Gallipoli will remember that, simultaneously with the landing of the Australasians at Gaba Tepe, no less than five landings had been effected by the British and French expeditionary forces further south, on points situated on the extreme southern point of the peninsula.
A great mountain rampart lay between these forces and the Anzacs, culminating in the summit of Achi Baba, the hardest nut to crack in the whole peninsula. Loftily situated on the slopes of Achi Baba is the village of Krithia, protected by a maze of Turkish trenches, and a wilderness of barbed wire entanglements. Upon this village an attack was directed from as many points as practicable, and in this attack a large proportion of the Australasian troops participated.
The attack was opened by such a fusillade of shellfire from the warships of the allied fleet as has seldom been seen or heard. From all quarters they rained shell and shrapnel on the slopes of Krithia, searching the ranges one by one in the attempt to dislodge the defenders from their trenches and hiding-places along the scrubby hillsides and precipitous ravines. The enemies' losses from that shellfire were enormous, but the Turks are admirable defensive fighters, and they clung to their trenches, making the most of the shelters that had been constructed in anticipation of such an attack.
The Anzacs had been posted as reserves in this great attack on Krithia, the Australians occupying positions on the left of the Krithia road, in support of a division of the Naval Brigade. On the other side of the road, and in support of the British 88th Brigade, were the New Zealanders. The fighting had begun on May 6, and between then and May 8 some ground had been gained; but the Turks were so strongly entrenched, and counter-attacked so vigorously, that on the morning of the 8th it appeared as though there were some danger of the advantage being again lost.
It was on the evening of May 8 that the long-expected signal to advance was received by the Australasian soldiers. Now they were to prove themselves in the eyes of the world, for they were fighting side by side with men drawn from four continents. Away to their extreme right the French, with their brave Senegalese helping them, had performed prodigies of valour during the preceding days. They were still holding the mile of ground they had gained, hanging on like grim death, and even pushing forward where opportunity permitted.
Nearer to the Australasian posts were Indian troops; Gurkhas, Sikhs and Punjabis; while with them were Britons of all kinds, sailormen and soldiers, regulars, Indian-service men, and a sprinkling of the new Army raised by Lord Kitchener. On the warships in the Gulf of Saros and the Dardanelles, eyes experienced in all the battlefields of modern days were watching them critically. The cannonade from the warships redoubled; the din was appalling, so that the very earth shook with it. It was at this moment that the Australasians were ordered to step into the limelight.
A quarter of a mile in front of the New Zealanders the gallant 88th held a trench. The Maorilanders had to go through that, and forward as far up the slope as a series of rushes with the bayonet would carry them. Before the Australians were the sailormen, situated similarly to the 88th. Past their trench the Australians had to charge, and up the bullet-swept slope towards Krithia. They waited for the signal to advance; it was given by the sudden cessation of the deafening din that was proceeding from the great 15-inch guns of the warships.
With a cry of "Ake! Ake!" – the war cry of the brave old Maori chief Rewi – the New Zealanders swept forward in a solid body over the 400 yards that separated them from the trench held by the 88th. A pause for breath was taken, and then they went on, taking with them many of their English cousins, who wanted to be in it with the bold fellows from the Long White Cloud. Just as they practised evolutions on the sands of Heliopolis, so they performed them now. The solid lines expanded, always advancing without check or pause. Sometimes they doubled, sometimes they walked; but they moved steadily forward all the time, a thin brown line that no human agency could stop. For seven hundred yards more they went on, with bullets raining upon them, and through a veil of constantly exploding shrapnel. Then they could go no farther. But they would not go back; they flung themselves on the ground and dug for shelter.
From the warships that charge was watched by those who were there for no other purpose than to observe and record. The great broken slope up which the charge was made lay like the stage of some huge theatre under the glasses of those who were watching, and with a fascination in which intensest admiration was blended, every move of the soldiers of the South was chronicled. Mr. Ashmead Bartlett was among those who watched that unforgettable charge, and he has placed his impressions on record in the following words: —
"The line entered one Turkish trench with a rush, bayoneted all there, and then passed on into broken ground, shooting and stabbing, men falling amid the terrible fusillade, but not a soul turning back. No sooner had one line charged than another pressed on after it, and then a third. On the right the New Zealanders and the Australians advanced at the same moment, but over much more open ground, which provided little or no cover. They were met by a tornado of bullets and were enfiladed by machine guns from the right.
"The artillery in vain tried to keep down this fire, but the manner in which these Dominion troops went forward will never be forgotten by those who witnessed it. The lines of infantry were enveloped in dust from the patter of countless bullets in the sandy soil and from the hail of shrapnel poured on them, for now the enemy's artillery concentrated furiously on the whole line. The lines advanced steadily as if on parade, sometimes doubling, sometimes walking, and you saw them melt away under this dreadful fusillade only for their lines to be renewed again as the reserves and supports moved forward to replace those who had fallen.
"In spite of all obstacles a considerable advance towards Krithia was made, but at length a point was reached from which it was impossible to proceed farther. Not a man attempted to return to the trenches. They simply lay down where they were and attempted to reply to their concealed enemy, not a man of whom disclosed his position. Only a few hundred yards had been won, it is true, but these Australians and New Zealanders were determined not to budge and proceeded to entrenching themselves where they lay."
The simultaneous charge of the Australians was made with the same steadiness and coolness as was displayed by the New Zealanders. The men were led up to the firing trench occupied by the Naval division by General McCay in person, and he gave them the signal to go forward when they had taken breath after their first quarter of a mile rush. "Now then, on, Australians!" he cried, waving the periscope he carried. And they took up the cry. "Come on, Australians!" was the shout, and there was no need to repeat it.
Through the bursting shrapnel they ran, line after line, always forward, though their ranks were thinning rapidly. They opened out as if on parade, they kept a straight thin line of advance. They raced the New Zealanders on their left and far outdistanced the British and Indians on their right. Then they too dug for shelter, and made good their ground. They were congratulated by their British friends afterwards on the fine show they had made, when one long bushman drawled out, "Why, it was child's play to that first Sunday."
But they had played to a full house and the Anzac charge at Krithia rammed home the reputation they had first won on the steep cliff of Gaba Tepe. On the next day, May 9, the 15th and 16th Battalions of the Fourth Regiment carried three more trenches near Gaba Tepe; and on the following day resisted successfully a series of deadly and persistent attacks. So they won fame, and again proved their title to be considered soldiers of the very first rank.
It was after the fighting of these two days that General Sir Ian Hamilton sent to Mr. Andrew Fisher, the Prime Minister of the Australian Commonwealth, a message of which every Australasian should be proud: – "May I, out of a full heart, be permitted to say how gloriously the Australian and New Zealand Contingents have upheld the fine traditions of our race during the struggle still in progress. At first with audacity and dash, since then with sleepless valour and untiring resource, they have already created for their countries an imperishable record of military virtue."
The Anzacs holding the position at Gaba Tepe were naturally weakened by the withdrawal of these reinforcements to co-operate in the main attack, and this fact appears to have been known to the enemy. It is at any rate certain that redoubled vigour was displayed in attacking those who remained to hold the Gaba Tepe position, while their comrades were employed elsewhere. All these attacks were successfully repelled, and the defenders, now accustomed to their surroundings, and becoming more inured to actual war conditions, gave even better exhibitions of soldierly qualities than before. That is to say that, while fighting as bravely as ever, they spared themselves more, and reduced the number of avoidable casualties.
But constant and dangerous work had put a great strain upon them, and a rest for many of them was badly needed. At this juncture a very considerable and most welcome reinforcement arrived, and permitted the needed rest to be taken. The reinforcement consisted of the cavalry, who had been left behind in Egypt with their horses. The news that their mates were in the thick of the fighting had not tended to diminish their discontent at being left behind, and on hearing the news from Gaba Tepe, and seeing the first wounded arrive at Egypt, they arose and demanded as one man to be allowed to serve in the trenches as infantry.
Those who know how close and intimate is the tie between the Australasian horseman and his horse will recognize that this volunteering had a special value of its own, coming from the class of man that it did. The offer was gladly accepted, the men doffed their mounted kit, and got into puttees and bluchers. They arrived in the nick of time, and any difference between their training and that of the infantry could not be appreciated, as soon as they got into the trenches and to real soldiering work.
The coming of the "light-weights" made a great difference to the men already at Gaba Tepe, whose numbers were sadly depleted; and the men who had left their spurs behind got a welcome all the warmer because they had not waited to be ordered there, but had volunteered. They came in the very nick of time, for the presence of the Anzacs had become so obnoxious to the German commanders of the Turkish forces that active steps were even then being concerted to get rid of them.
These positions that they held so strongly midway between the city of Gallipoli and the end of the peninsula, where the bulk of the Expedition to the Dardanelles was operating were an enormous hindrance to the Turks and their German masters. A large body of troops had always to be kept on the spot to prevent the Anzacs from cutting communications between the main defending force and the depots whence they drew their stores and reinforcements. Not only that; the actual progress of reinforcements was hampered by the operations of these tireless Colonials, who were constantly harassing the warrior natives of the soil.
Therefore General Liman von Sanders, in his wisdom, decided that the Anzacs must be driven into the sea; and at the time of the arrival of the reinforcements drawn from the Australasian Light Horse, was gathering a strong army, which he soon afterwards directed in a general frontal attack upon the Anzac positions.
But before that attack was delivered, the Australian army suffered an irreparable loss in the person of its brave and skilful General, General Bridges. This gallant soldier had been in the thick of the fighting throughout the whole of the operations that began with the landing of April 25. Wherever he went he set an example of cool courage that acted as a tonic to the men, who trusted and loved him dearly. At first he disdained to take the ordinary precautions that were dictated by the conditions under which he was directing operations, and with a grim carelessness walked about under shrapnel fire, without making any attempt to seek cover.
The warnings of his staff, and his early conviction that it was not necessary to set so uncompromising an example of personal courage to men so consistently brave as those under his command, caused him later to adopt a more prudent attitude; and on the day when he sustained his fatal wound he showed more than his customary care for himself. He set out upon an inspection of a firing line, and for once he consented to run through the more exposed parts of his round.
A description has already been given of the deep ravine that runs down to the sea on the right of Pope's Hill. When he came to the path that crosses this gully, he was warned by the dressers at the ambulance station that the bullets were flying very thickly down the gully. "You had better run across here, sir," said one of them. He took the advice and reached another shelter. There he stood for a time, and then remarking ruefully, "Well, I suppose I must run for it again," he made a dash for the next cover. Before he reached it a bullet struck him in the thigh, severing an important artery. He would have rapidly bled to death but for prompt assistance. Stricken as he was, his first thought was for others; he did not wish any one to expose himself in helping to carry him down to the sea-front.
He was carried there, however, and transferred to the hospital ship with every possible care. In spite of all attention and skill, he never rallied; and died at sea on his way to Egypt. Australia mourns him as a gallant and considerate leader, a man whose memory will be ever revered in the Southern Continent. His command was temporarily assumed by Brigadier-General Walker, who acted in that capacity until the arrival from Australia of General Legge, who was appointed to succeed General Bridges.
CHAPTER VIII
THE BATTLE OF QUINN'S POST
Captain Von Mueller boasted that he would sink the Australian cruiser Sydney. He lost his ship, and was carried a captive by the Australians to a British prison camp. General Liman von Sanders declared he would drive the Anzacs off the face of Gallipoli Peninsula into the sea. The result of his attempt was a slaughter of Turks that has not been equalled in the Dardanelles fighting, and the return of so many wounded to Constantinople that a panic was created in the Turkish capital. If any boasting is to be done, the proper time is after the event.
The preparations made by Sanders Pasha for his great attack upon the Anzacs were long and elaborate. For days beforehand he was busy in organizing the transport of great stores of ammunition to the neighbourhood of Maidos, a town on the neck of the peninsula, opposite Gaba Tepe. Five fresh regiments were brought from Constantinople to stiffen the attacking force; they afterwards proved to have been chosen from the very élite of the Turkish army. He detached in addition heavy reinforcements from the main body of defenders, who were holding back the Allies at Achi Baba. He had determined to do the thing very thoroughly.
His attack was launched on May 18, and he himself assumed personal charge of the operations. Shortly before midnight on May 18 he began to expend his huge store of shell after the approved German fashion. All the batteries concealed in the hills around set up a hideous din, swollen by the roar of the machine guns, and the cracking of countless rifles. In that shelling, 12-inch guns, 9-inch guns, and huge howitzers were employed, as well as artillery of smaller calibre. Naturally every Anzac was on the look out; and word was sent to every post to be prepared for the frontal attack it was assumed would follow. The assumption was a correct one; for soon countless Turks poured over the ridges and made for the centre of the Anzac line.
It has already been explained that this line was a rough semicircle, the left, or Northern wing being situated on high ground above Fisherman's Hut. Here was a ridge facing North-East, named Walker's Ridge after Brigadier-General Walker, and to the right of that was Pope's Hill. These spots were North of the great central gully or valley, which was at first known as Death Gully by the Australian soldiers, but was afterwards called Monash Gully, after General Monash, commander of the 4th Brigade. Immediately to the right of the Gully was Dead Man's Ridge, and the point where the line takes a sharp turn to the South was known as the Bloody Angle.
The Turkish lines, which were some 250 yards distant at the extreme left of the position, continued to get closer to those of the Australasians until here they approached very closely. At Quinn's Post, named after a gallant Major from Queensland who fell fighting bravely at the spot, the lines were only twenty yards apart. The gap widened going South to Courtney's Post, and continued to do so through the other main positions at Steel's Post and McLaurin Hill, down to Point Rosenthal, which faced Gaba Tepe itself on the extreme right wing.
Quinn's Post, at the extreme curve of the Australasian semicircle, came in for the hottest attack of all. In this part of the line were stationed the Fourth Infantry Brigade, which comprised the bulk of the Second Australian Contingent, and is commanded by General Monash. Of this 4th Brigade more will soon be told, but it suffices to say that their steadiness and fighting qualities were put to the supreme test on this early morning of May 19. The trenches here faced the ridge called Dead Man's Ridge, and over this ridge the Turks pushed one another to the attack. Their advance was covered by a continuation of the heavy bombardment of the trenches from Hill 700, and from the top of the ridge where guns, heavy, light and machine, had been concentrated.
This fire, added to the bullets from thousands of rifles, kept all Anzac heads down. Bravely the Turks dashed through the scrub, taking all the cover it afforded, and regardless of the field guns and howitzers of the Anzacs, which were concentrated on them with deadly effect. Many of them got right up to the edge of the trenches, and were shot down at point-blank range. Still they crept out of their cover, massing in every thicket, and advancing under pressure of those behind.
The first light of early morning revealed to the waiting Anzacs a dense mass of the enemy, exposed and within easy range. Then the rifles of the best shots in the world – for there are at least no superiors to them anywhere – rang out, and as fast as each man could pull the trigger, the Turk fell under that deadly fusillade. Still they poured over the ridges, their officers driving them on from behind with loaded revolvers, and still the discriminate slaughter went on.
It was discriminate slaughter, for each Anzac, before he fired, marked his man and made sure of him. It was no time for sentimental considerations of mercy; and besides, the Anzacs were fierce with the anger of men who had been sniped for three weeks, without too many chances of getting their own back. They had charged against positions held as their own now was, and had seen their bravest and best fall by hundreds as they drove on in the face of shrapnel and machine-gun fire. Now it was their turn, and they fired until the barrels of their rifles got too hot to be touched. "It was like killing rabbits with a stick," said one man, who was in the hottest part of the fray.
The most terrible execution of all was done by a battery of eighteen pounders, which, with a number of machine guns, had been posted and carefully masked at a spot on the Anzac line between Steel's Post and the Pimple. The fire from these guns took the Turks all unawares and tore great gaps in their ranks. This ambush was arranged by General Johnston, the officer commanding the artillery, and the spot was afterwards known to the Anzacs by the peculiar name of Johnston's Jolly.
All along the line from Quinn's Post to Courtney's the dead were piled in heaps; and still they came on. Some of them died grasping the barbed wire protections in front of the trenches, others fell dead into the very trenches themselves, only stopped by a bullet met on the parapet. They had the support of all the guns Sanders Pasha had been able to muster, and all his huge store of ammunition was expended in trying to drive those Australians into the sea. But not a man budged from his post.
From daylight till ten o'clock that morning the bombardment and the frontal attack were continued; then the Turks would have no more of it. Sullenly they fell back, and as they did so shrapnel completed the disorganization which had now begun. Soon after ten they turned and ran for their trenches, and there they sheltered for hours while the heavy cannonade continued. In the middle of the afternoon their officers made another attempt to drive them forward, but it was a half-hearted response that was elicited. Once more they faced that deadly accurate rifle fire of the men from the South, and before it they crumpled up and fled again for shelter. All night they kept up an incessant fire from their trenches, but in the morning it died away into nothingness. General Liman von Sanders had made a mistake, and the most expensive mistake yet made on the peninsula of Gallipoli. Such was the end to his boasting.
Not a Turk had entered an Anzac trench except dead Turks, not a yard of ground had been gained in any direction. And from Quinn's Post all along the line to Courtnay's, the ground was piled with the dead and dying. "Eight acres of dead bodies," estimated one literal bushman, after a close scrutiny of the field of battle through a periscope. Another essayed to count the bodies in sight from his trench, and stopped at an estimate of 4,000. At least 30,000 Turks took part in that frontal attack, and on a conservative estimate, one-third of them were put out of action. The wounded were sent back to Constantinople literally by thousands, and the sight of them spread panic and dismay far and wide through that city.
Mr. Ashmead Bartlett, who went over the lines on the following day, presents a grim picture of the slaughter wrought by the straight-shooting Australians.
"The ground presents an extraordinary sight when viewed through the trench periscopes. Two hundred yards away, and even closer in places, are the Turkish trenches, and between them and our lines the dead lie in hundreds. There are groups of twenty or thirty massed together, as if for mutual protection, some lying on their faces, some killed in the act of firing; others hung up in the barbed wire. In one place a small group actually reached our parapet, and now lie dead on it, shot at point-blank range or bayoneted. Hundreds of others lie just outside their own trenches, where they were caught by rifles and shrapnel when trying to regain them. Hundreds of wounded must have perished between the lines, for it was only on the 21st that the enemy made overtures for an armistice for burying the dead; but up to the present this has not been granted owing to the suspicious number of troops in his front trenches.
"In places the Turks made four or five separate efforts to charge home, using hand-grenades, but they all failed dismally."
"Ever alert," writes one who took part in the slaughter, "the Colonials were ready to meet the strain when it came. The sight of seemingly endless masses of the enemy advancing upon them might well have shaken the nerve of the already severely-tried troops. Our machine-guns and artillery mowed down the attackers in hundreds, but still the advancing wall swept on. On, still! Would the ranks never waste in strength? Not till the wave was at point-blank range from the nimble trigger-fingers did it break and spend itself amongst our barbed-wire entanglements. Turks were shot in the act of jumping into our trenches. Corpses lay with their heads and arms hanging over our parapets. Our fire gradually dominated the ground in front. Those who turned to fly were mowed down before they could go a dozen yards. The Germans sent their supports forward in droves. It was sickening to behold the slaughter our fire made amongst the massed battalions as they issued from concealment into open spaces.
"These unfortunate Turks scrambled along towards us over piles of dead bodies. In an instant a company would be enveloped in the smoke of a shrapnel salvo. When the smoke cleared that company would be stretched or writhing on the ground, with another company approaching and ready to share its predecessor's fate."
The Anzacs did not lose one man for every twenty they put out of action. Coolly and methodically they took the chance sent them by Sanders Pasha, and every bullet was sent home in memory of the brave comrades they had lost, and the grand general who was even then breathing his last. They had previously displayed bravery, hardihood, and resource beyond imagination; the qualities shown at the battle of Quinn's Post were steadiness, accurate shooting, and a reasoned discipline that would have done the utmost credit to the most seasoned veterans of the British regular army.
Two days later the Turks craved an armistice to bury their thousands of slain. Too great indulgence could not be given them in the performance of their gruesome task, for under the tuition of their German masters they are apt to employ such breathing spaces for purposes to which they ought not to be devoted. The requests for armistices became very frequent after that slaughter of May 19, but the Anzacs knew just how to deal with them.
And so the Anzacs got their own back with enormous interest. After being sent forward over open country against big fields of barbed wire, with enfilading machine-guns hidden at every turn, it was a sheer luxury to lie in the trenches and let the other fellow do a bit of self-immolation. They knew, too, that they had struck a deadly blow at German prestige with the Turk. General Birdwood told them so when he inspected their defences, after the fight was over.
