Kitabı oku: «Glorious Deeds of Australasians in the Great War», sayfa 6

CHAPTER IX
A THORN IN THE FLESH

The failure of the attempt to drive the Australasians into the sea was followed by two months of desultory fighting that resembled nothing so much as the deadlock between the Allies and the Germans in the North of France. The operations, of course, were on a scale infinitely smaller, and the Anzacs held the advantage of occupying the position of invaders. They were, indeed, a thorn in the flesh of the Turkish army, for they held a position with infinite possibilities.

The object of the whole land expedition in Gallipoli was to obtain command of that part of the straits of the Dardanelles known as the Narrows, where Europe and Asia are only separated by a mile of sea water. Here are the strongest of the forts built by the Turks to protect the passage of the Dardanelles. Before this narrow passage lies a minefield so thick that it defied the attempt of the fleet of the Allied Powers to force a passage through the Dardanelles to Constantinople. An attempt to dredge the minefield with trawlers was defeated by hidden batteries on the very heights for which the Anzacs were fighting, and also by the guns of the forts at the Narrows.

At the southern point of the peninsula the main force of the Allies was attempting to cut a way through to a tableland known as the Plateau of Kilid Bahr, which dominates the European coast of the Dardanelles from the entrance as far as the Narrows themselves. The spot occupied by the Anzacs on the Gulf of Saros was opposite the town of Maidos on the straits, and therefore above the Narrows. This much must be grasped in order to understand the possibilities arising from the existence of an Australasian force in that spot, and the precautions forced upon the Turks because they remained there.

The main body of the Turkish army was concerned with the defence of the fort of Achi Baba and all the strong positions centring in that height. All supplies for this defence force must come from the base at Constantinople, by sea to Gallipoli, and thence by road through Maidos, the town threatened by the Australasians. Moreover, all reinforcements must pass by the same way; and the heavy losses inflicted upon the Turks by the Allied forces in Gallipoli necessitated many reinforcements.

Therefore the presence of the Australasians around the hill of Sari Bair, even while they remained passive, forced the Turks to maintain a force of from 25,000 to 30,000 men at this point, merely to keep them in check. For two months the slightest sign of any diminution of that force was the signal for a demonstration by the Anzacs, which at least had the effect of bringing the Turks back to the trenches they are so anxious to vacate.

But the full importance of the Anzac position did not end there. Sir Ian Hamilton, finding that his attempt to force the great mountain stronghold of Achi Baba was doomed to failure without a strengthening of his forces which could not be granted him, decided on a new plan for cutting through to the Dardanelles. This, in his own words, was by a reinforcement of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps, combined with a landing in Suvla Bay. Then with one strong push to capture Hill 971, and, working from that dominating point, to grip the waist of the Peninsula.

The objects to be attained were three —

1. To break out with a rush from Anzac and cut off the bulk of the Turkish army from land communication with Constantinople.

2. To gain such a command for my artillery as to cut off the bulk of the Turkish army from sea traffic, whether with Constantinople or with Asia.

3. Incidentally, to secure Suvla Bay as a winter base for Anzac and all the troops operating in the northern theatre.

These operations were not begun until early in August. But during the latter part of May, and through the months of June and July, they were forced to mark time steadily, and jealously to conserve the little patch of ground they had won with such incredible audacity on the cliffs of Sari Bair. The extent of that holding may be gauged when it is stated that the beachline was a little over a mile long, and that the furthest point inland of the Anzac line was not more than a mile from the sea, as a crow flies. Thus the Australasians were clinging on to less than a square mile of the Gallipoli peninsula; and for two months never lost an inch of it, but steadily consolidated their holding.

Mining and sapping went on all day and all night, and the Turks have proved themselves masters at this underground warfare. The Anzacs replied in kind, and the outcome of some of these adventures was lively hand-to-hand fighting. On May 29 the Turks got a sap close up to the Anzac line, and occupied two shell craters within four yards of the trenches. They soon turned them into bombproof shelters, and were established there before they were discovered.

Three men of the 15th Infantry Battalion of the Australasian Force, Sergeant Kidd, Corporal Stronach and Private Birch, have written the following account of what followed, and placed it at the disposal of the writer. All three men were wounded in the fighting of that May 29. Their account runs:

"Everything was quiet on the morning of May 29. At the hour of 3 a.m. a few rifles rang out from time to time, but for Quinn's Post this was comparative silence. Suddenly a bright glare shot skywards, followed by intense darkness, and a deep reverberating roar – the Turks had blown our trenches up. Almost simultaneously with the sound of the explosion an uproar of rifle and machine gun fire burst from the enemy's trenches, and was answered from ours, making a din in which it was impossible to hear an order, unless shouted in one's very ear.

"We stood to arms and in five minutes we rushed up the hill in the faintly gathering dawn. The enemy's artillery had the range, and their shells burst continuously overhead, lighting up the rugged sides of the great ravine like a terrific thunder-storm. The detonation of the guns, fired incessantly, reverberated through the hills and gullies and increased the likeness to some titanic tempest, while the sight of the ever-increasing stream of wounded we met coming down hill, all covered with blood and maimed and crippled, added to the terror of the moment.

"When we reached the hill-top we found the worst had happened: the Turks had got possession of three lines of trenches. The duty of turning them out fell to our battalion, the Fighting Fifteenth. As the faint light broadened to day we lined up and awaited the word to charge. If any one says that at such a moment he felt no anxiety or terror, let him be branded as a liar and empty braggart. No man should face death without some tremor, let alone the hail of bombs which the victorious Turks threw over from the conquered trenches, and which seem to hold a terror in themselves that is even worse than death.

"Yet it was through this screen of horror that we had to dash, and by sheer force drive the enemy out of their newly-acquired position. Clear above all other noises shrilled a whistle; and with a yell each man dashed forward. There was a confused glimpse of men falling, and of others staggering back through the smoke, all streaming with blood and with limbs shattered by the hideous bombs. But in thirty seconds the communication trench was clear.

"From the support trench, which was full of Turks, there poured a hail of bullets and grenades, causing us to reel and fall back for a breathing space. Then our own bomb throwers stepped forward and hurled bombs into the trench, whence fragments of shattered humanity leaped up into the air. The desperate men sprang from the trench and bravely charged, but ten yards was as far as they got; under our deadly rifle and machine-gun fire they went down like wheat before the scythe.

"We counter-charged in the next moment and scores of our fellows went over the parapet into the trench, where the stabbing blows of the bayonet could be heard for a good three minutes. Then the firing line was ours again.

"But the support trench in the centre still held out. Owing to the bombproof shelter there was no possible way of shifting the stubborn defenders. Bravely they fought for their footing but the use of bombs convinced them of the hopelessness of the position they occupied. Finally they surrendered; and came out covered with blood and dust, eighteen limping heathen heroes. We hope we showed them due respect, the respect we felt for their brave fight.

"Then came the task of clearing the trench of the dead, a gruesome work. Poor shattered fragments of humanity, without any likeness to the human form remaining had to be gathered up in sandbags and carried away. No words can paint the hideous thoroughness with which the grenades do their devilish work. So ended the fight of May 29."

The craters were also taken by a body of Light Horse who, after throwing a large number of bombs into the craters, boldly leaped in, with their bayonets fixed. They cleared the holes of Turks, though all of the attacking force were wounded but two, and the greater part of them were isolated in the craters for a night. But they held the craters until relief could be sent them.

This necessitated some brisk work by an Australian machine-gun section, in the course of which one young gunner distinguished himself by bravery and devotion of the highest order. He was engaged against two Turkish machine guns, and continued to work his own gun, though they were cutting away his parapet of sandbags, and must eventually expose him to a stream of bullets. The maintenance of his fire was of the utmost importance, since it covered a series of operations by a considerable force of men. At last he fell back wounded, but not until he had saved the situation by his devoted bravery.

With a little experience, the Anzacs became in their turn first-class sappers.

"I am a voluntary sapper now," writes one of them, "digging a tunnel to some new trenches we have dug just behind a ridge about 100 yards in front of the Turks' trenches. We went out one night to dig them in moonlight, and they opened a pretty brisk fire for a bit, but we were practically safe behind the ridge; all the same, we were ready for them. Three of the evening party got hit, but most of the damage was done by fellows bumping their picks into one another, tearing the seats of their trousers out, etc. Some of our saps go through dead Turks buried during the armistice before we came. We wash ourselves and clothes in the sea, as fresh water is too scarce for anything but drinking purposes just yet."

A diversion from this trench warfare was occasioned on June 28 by an attempt on the part of the Turks to withdraw part of their forces for use in the more southerly part of the peninsula. The Australasians replied with a strong attack. It opened in the regular way by the ships bombarding the hillsides. Then the 2nd Brigade of Australian Light Horse and the 3rd Brigade of Australian Infantry advanced 700 yards, and gave the Turks something to think about. This produced a counter-attack, which was repulsed by the Australasians with heavy loss to the enemy. Then, having fulfilled their mission, the Anzacs retired in good order within their lines.

They are now thoroughly familiar with the strange rough country of Gallipoli, of which one of them writes: —

"The world seems to have been built up on end, and the high cliffs are accessible only by the spurs and valleys. The place is very different now – roads have been cut and built, and steep as they are, mules can reach the top fairly easily. It is very exasperating to look out on the peaceful flat country just a few miles away with peaceful homesteads in places. Our chief pastime in life is smashing Turkish periscopes, of which they don't possess very many. It is good target practice, and helps to prevent them from being too perky. At present we are just marking time, and things are rather quiet."

Things were quiet by the deliberate plan of Sir Ian Hamilton. Having decided that his next attempt was to be made from Anzac, his hope was to divert the attention of the enemy, as far as might be, from that particular theatre of operations. The Anzacs were therefore confined to trench warfare and to those underground operations which made of their holding a warren of saps and tunnels.

They could watch the Turks entrenching busily all around them, until they were confronted with a series of defence works that were practically impregnable. North-east of them, where the mountain spurs of Sari Bair ran up from the coast to the dominating height of Koja Chemen (Hill 971), every rise had its network of trenches. Opposite Quinn's Post a net of trenches was dug so intricate that it was given the name of The Chessboard. Not a day passed but the Turks, working on higher ground, made their holding as secure as digging and earthwork could make it.

Also they posted guns on well-chosen positions, and the Anzacs had to endure a bombardment that recurred every day. On Battleship Hill there was a battery that had the whole of the southern posts ranged, and dropped shells on them with unceasing regularity and remarkable accuracy. In the mangroves south of Gaba Tepe there was hidden a quick-firing gun known to the Anzacs as Beachy Bill. He had the Anzac beaches ranged, and did enormous damage with his sudden bursts of shrapnel.

This monster, and a twin gun on an elevation to the north, somewhere behind Anafarta village and known as Anafarta Anne, made the old amusement of beach bathing a deadly peril. Long before the final abandonment of the Anzac position a camp statistician had reckoned that the score of casualties due to the activities of Beachy Bill exceeded the total of 1,500, and on one bad day he accounts for sixty-four men. Many attempts were made by the warships to silence these guns and blow away their emplacements. Sometimes they were so damaged that they had to remain quiescent for a day or two, but just when hope was growing in the Anzac ranks that they had heard the last of Beachy Bill, a bathing party would be reminded by a spray of shrapnel that he was very much in being.

The sufferings endured by the troops holding the southern part of the Anzac line, from Quinn's Post down to The Pimple, arising out of the shelling of their trenches with high explosive, will never be told. The remnants of the Second Brigade, which were posted at Steel's Post and Johnston's Jolly, endured this for weeks, especially toward the end of July.

One experience related to me by a young officer of the 7th will ever stick in my memory. His company had maintained a ceaseless vigil for days and nights, men falling asleep where they stood under arms. When things appeared at their worst, he was delighted at the appearance of a small party of reinforcements, fifteen in number. He gave a relieved glance at the new-comers, and conducted them to a deep trench that had been made a few yards behind the firing line where the men used to retire to rest in comparative safety.

He left them there while he selected from his band of overwrought warriors those who needed rest most of all where every one was in vital need of a spell. No sooner had he left this rest trench than a great "Jack Johnson" came, burying the reinforcements under many feet of earth. Their comrades sprang to their assistance, digging away the earth like possessed beings. One by one the dead and dying men were discovered, and tenderly borne back to the beach from which they had just come. Finally all had been removed but one, and of him no trace could be found.

"I urged the men to dig on," said my informant, and as I spoke I felt something move under my feet. I was standing on the hip of the buried man. We worked with our hands to clear his face, and I removed as well as I could the dirt from his mouth and nostrils. He was black in the face, and, I feared, beyond recovery.

"But, as we worked to clear him, I saw his face resume its natural colour, and he opened his mouth and spoke, 'Ah, Edith,' he muttered; then he opened his eyes and saw me bending over him. He struggled to his feet and saluted, with the remark, 'I'm all right, Sir.' I told him to go back to the beach, but he would have none of it. He said he was all right bar a bruise or two, and wanted to take his place in the firing line. Of course I would not hear of that, so sent him back for medical treatment. And that was all we got of our reinforcements."

Multiply this instance by hundreds, and you will get some idea of the stern endurance required of these men during those weeks of waiting, and the spirit in which they endured. With the hot weather came dysentery, and their sufferings were terrible. But they knew that a big move was shortly expected, and many of them concealed their complaint and carried on in silence, determined not to miss the great attack to which they were all looking so eagerly forward. When the word was finally given for the advance, many of these heroes charged the enemy, weakened as they were by many days' concealed suffering from this last scourge of Gallipoli.

The anticipated movement was heralded by the resumption of the offensive on the extreme right of the Anzac line on July 31. This operation can best be described in the words of Sir Ian Hamilton's dispatch: —

"On the extreme right of Anzac the flank of a work called Tasmania Post was threatened by the extension of a Turkish trench. The task of capturing this trench was entrusted to the 3rd Australian Brigade. After an artillery bombardment, mines were to be fired, whereupon four columns of fifty men each were to assault and occupy specified lengths of the trench. The regiment supplying the assaulting columns was the 11th Australian Infantry Battalion.

"At 10.15 p.m. on July 31 the bombardment was opened. Ten minutes later and the mines were duly fired. The four assaulting parties dashed forward at once, crossed our own barbed wire on planks, and were into the craters before the whole of the débris had fallen. Total casualties: 11 killed and 74 wounded; Turkish killed, 100."

And now English troops began to land on Anzac Beach, and the final dispositions for the great attack were put in train.

CHAPTER X
THE SOUL OF ANZAC

The great attack of August may well be divided under two main heads, the sortie from Anzac, and the landing at Suvla Bay. It is only with the first of these operations that I am called upon to deal in this book. The entire details, subject to Sir Ian Hamilton's approval, were formulated by General Sir William Birdwood, described by the Commander-in-Chief as "The Soul of Anzac," a description joyfully accepted by every man who ever set foot on the beach at Anzac Cove.

Nobody but a born leader of men could so have gripped the imagination of a whole army. He came to the head of these Colonial soldiers, few of whom had ever heard his name, and most of whom were born and reared with an innate prejudice against any domination except that of their own folk. In a few weeks he was the idol of each isolated post along the Anzac fighting line. He went everywhere and inspired everybody. He set the example of sane fearlessness that was the model of conduct in the Anzac trenches.

Few of the Anzacs are not convinced that they are personally known to their general. He came among them, and talked their bush slang and used their pet names. His presence pervaded the whole camp, his manner accorded well with the light-hearted daring that characterized the men he led. Soon a score of stories were associated with his name, and they were just the kind of stories that appeal to the men of Anzac.

Snowy Devine, a famous sharpshooter, was sitting outside his dug-out one morning when he was greeted by a pleasant voice, "Well, Snowy, how does the score stand now?"

"Twenty-nine, that I know of," replied Snowy, who kept careful count of the Turks who fell to his rifle.

"You'd better buck up; there's a man down at Quinn's who claims forty."

"Is there? Then tell him from me that he's a flaming liar."

Snowy's questioner retired, possibly to deliver this uncompromising message, and Snowy's mates started the usual chaff.

"I see you're getting very pally with the General, Snowy." Snowy's jaw dropped, and he stared in dismay. Then the slow grin of the Australian bushman crept over his hard face.

"Pally! I should think so. He called me Snowy. And I didn't know what to call him back. I s'pose I oughter called him 'Birdie.'"

A wound sustained during the early days of May, and General Birdwood's active devotion to duty while it was in the course of healing, completed his ascendancy over the men he commanded. Obedience to his commands was rendered in a cheerful and zealous spirit by every man; and this success in winning all hearts may serve to explain some of the impossibilities achieved by the Anzacs in the second week of August.

The commissioned officers from Australia and New Zealand are no less devoted to their distinguished leader than their men. To them he was a model of appreciative consideration. Many of them have been awarded decorations for services of special merit, but I have found that more prized even than these honourable awards are the few lines scribbled by Sir William Birdwood to his officers lying sorely wounded in hospital. He does not forget, even under the load of the heavy responsibilities that weighed upon him on Gallipoli peninsula. Nor will the officers and men of Australia and New Zealand ever forget Sir William Birdwood.

The dispatches of the Commander-in-Chief are testimony that he is as distinguished a General as he is sympathetic as a leader of men. Writing of the Anzac plans drawn up by General Birdwood Sir Ian Hamilton says: —

"So excellently was this vital business worked out on the lines of the instructions issued that I had no modifications to suggest, and all these local preparations were completed by August 6 in a way which reflects the greatest credit not only on the Corps Commander and his staff, but also upon the troops themselves, who had to toil like slaves to accumulate food, drink, and munitions of war. Alone the accommodation for the extra troops to be landed necessitated an immense amount of work in preparing new concealed bivouacs, in making interior communications, and in storing water and supplies, for I was determined to put on shore as many fighting men as our modest holding at Anzac could possibly accommodate or provision. All the work was done by Australian and New Zealand soldiers almost entirely by night, and the uncomplaining efforts of these much-tried troops in preparation are in a sense as much to their credit as their heroism in the battles that followed."

On the fourth of August reinforcements of British troops were landed by night at Anzac, and the work was continued through the following night, until the forces at the disposal of the General were 37,000 men and seventy-two guns; while two cruisers, two destroyers, and four monitors were detailed to support the operations from the sea.

The men were divided into two bodies. The 1st, 2nd and 3rd Brigades of Australian Infantry, and the 1st and 3rd Brigades of Australian Light Horse, were detailed to hold the original Anzac line, and from it to make demonstrations designed to hold the main body of the enemy in defence of the strong positions they had provided in front of the line.

The other body was ordered to attack the mountain mass of Chunuk Bair. It consisted of the New Zealanders, the 2nd Brigade of Australian Light Horse, and the 4th Brigade of Australian Infantry. British troops and Gurkhas co-operated with this body, as well as the Indian Mountain Battery, which had from the very day of landing rendered such magnificent service at Anzac.

The number of machine-guns along the Anzac line was notably increased, and large stores of ammunition had been accumulated in convenient spots. The report of these new machine-guns was entirely different to that of the original weapons with which the Anzacs had been armed; and this, as well as the activity of the warships during the days immediately preceding August 6, must have warned the Turks that some move was impending.

As far as can be ascertained the desired impression was created. The capture of Tasmania Ridge, and the activity along the right of the Anzac line misled the enemy into expecting a strong attack in that direction. Nor were they disappointed; but by massing their defences in that quarter they left the positions on the north of the Anzac line weakly defended. Most important of all, they took no precautions to hinder the great landing of British forces which had been planned to take place at Suvla Bay.

The most northerly boundary of the original Anzac position was the range of hills known as Walker's Ridge, which culminates in the sheer height of Russell's Top. North of this ridge were three outposts, isolated from the main position and the scene of some fierce fighting in the early days of the Anzac occupation. Two of these outposts were connected with the main line by deep saps. Into the larger of these saps, connecting Walker's Ridge with Outpost No. 2, and known as Russell's secret sap, a party of charging Turks had once blundered, unaware of its very existence. The result was disastrous to themselves, for not one of them ever got out again.

By this sap a huge store of munitions and other requisites for an attack in force had been conveyed to No. 2 Outpost, which had been held by the Maori contingent attached to the New Zealand forces, and was consequently known as the Maori Outpost. And here, on the night of August 6, all the men detailed for the attack on Chunuk Bair were concentrated.

Such, in outline, was the plan laid by General Birdwood for the operations from Anzac. Examined in the light of after events, no flaw can be found in it, nor in the execution of that part of it which was entrusted to the men whose deeds are described in this book. Let it be remembered that every man knew what was coming, and that all had been keyed up to the keenest pitch of expectation by weeks of weary waiting and arduous preparation. On August 6, the long-expected moment had arrived, and on the evening of that day the first bolt was launched.