Chapter XI: Sari Bair

From the Nek, the Chessboard, and Baby 700, the main ridge or mountain of Sari Bair rises steadily, like a great rounded shoulder, to Battleship Hill (so called from an early naval bombardment), and thence, after a long but slight depression, which from the sea looks like a continuous ridge, rises again to the broad and massive front of Chunuk Bair, about 850 feet in height. Towards the sea, the mountain Chunuk shows an apparently precipitous face, split in the centre by a cleft too steep to be called a watercourse. It is rather what mountaineers mean by a “chimney.” But except on this actual face, the mountain range is not so steep as it appears, nor so inaccessible, being of softish sandstone mixed with marl, like the whole of the district. Hard limestones, or the only formations which are called “rock” by every one but geologists, are not found till one reaches the genuinely rocky hill on the south side of Suvla Bay, and the still more rocky edge on the north.

From Chunuk Bair the range continues its north-easterly trend, the sky-line again showing a slight depression or dip till it rises to a similar but lesser height, which we at first called “Nameless Hill,” but more generally “Hill Q.” Beyond “Hill Q” the ridge is again slightly lower and flattish along the summit till it is split across unexpectedly by a precipitous ravine, which appears to cut sheer down to a level of less than half the mountain’s height. Both sides of the ravine are unusually steep and jagged, so that it would be impossible for troops by continuing an advance along the sky-line of the ridge to gain the highest summit, which rises steeply from the farther side of the ravine. This summit, the crowning-point of the range gradually rising, as we have seen, from the beach at Chatham Post, is Koja Chemen Tepe, generally known as Hill 971 (its height in feet). The top, being thrown back to the north-east, is invisible from Anzac, but plainly seen from Imbros, the sea, and Suvla, dominating the region. The ravine is not revealed till Suvla is reached.

These joint heights of Chunuk and “Hill Q,” together with the disconnected height of Koja Chemen, were the first objectives in the main attack of August 6 to 10. The ultimate objective remained as before--the clearing of the Narrows by reaching Maidos, cutting the Turkish communications with Achi Baba and Krithia over the Kilid Bahr plateau, and dominating the forts on the Asiatic side. Some critics, both at the time and since, have maintained that the ultimate objective could better have been won by making the main attack from Suvla with all available forces. But at the time, when many believed this to be Sir Ian’s design, an advance from Suvla into the heart of the Peninsula appeared to me impossible so long as the enemy held the Sari Bair range as a perpetual threat to the right flank of our advancing columns; and not merely the heart of the Peninsula, but the coast-line of the Straits, would have to be reached before the enemy’s forces to the south could be cut off. It is true that an advance from Anzac, or even from Suvla, was partially threatened by forces on Kilid Bahr plateau. But from Anzac the passage to the Straits was brief, and from Suvla it was protected by Sari Bair itself, provided only that we held that mountain range. Otherwise it was out of the question.

[Sidenote: THE NATURE OF THE COUNTRY]

So the objective of the main attack from Anzac was simple; but the means of approach presented extraordinary difficulties. As at Anzac itself, the front of the range breaks down to the sea in a crumbled and complicated formation of edges, ridges, spurs, cliffs, and ravines, the haphazard and perennial work of winter storms and rains acting for ages upon soft sandstone and sandy deposits mixed with clay and a little chalk. This labyrinthine region naturally follows the north-easterly course of the hills out of which water has carved it, leaving a gradually extending plain along the seacoast as far as the low hills forming Nibrunesi Point, the southern extremity of Suvla Bay. Sometimes at night small parties of chosen New Zealand officers stole out to explore the labyrinth, and their reconnaissance was of the highest value. But the district had never been surveyed, and the tortuous watercourses, the unexpected cliffs and ravines, complicated by almost impenetrable and spiky bush, threatened inextricable error to any wanderer there, even by daylight and in peace. Imagine, then, the perplexity of threading those unknown ways in a total darkness haunted by the expectation of deadly fire at every turn in the ravines, from the blackness of every thicket, and the edge of every cliff! One or two Greek and Turkish guides were available, but employed without much confidence.

For the better understanding of the great assault, the following points in the geography might be remembered. Proceeding by the Long Sap, then lately constructed, parallel with the seashore from Ari Burnu northward, soon after passing No. 1 Post one crosses Sazli Beit Dere, a dry watercourse on which the “Fishermen’s Huts” of the first landing stood. About 600 yards farther on, after passing No. 2 and No. 3 Posts, one reaches Chailak Dere, close to the mouth of which the “diviner” discovered copious subterranean water, as previously described. Both these Deres, or dry watercourses, run at right angles to the coast, coming down from the fort of Chunuk Bair by devious, zigzag courses, but generally parallel in direction, though the upper courses tend to converge. The steep and lofty ground standing between the two Deres is marked by the three points of Old No. 3 Post, Table Top, and Rhododendron Spur, which runs up to the shoulder of Chunuk Bair itself.

Emerging from the Long Sap near the mouth of Chailak Dere, and proceeding along the flats sheltered after this attack by a parapet for about 1000 yards, one reaches the Aghyl Dere, which runs fairly parallel with the other two in its lower course, but splits into two Deres about a mile from the mouth, the right-hand tributary converging rapidly with Chailak Dere, till they almost meet at the foot of Chunuk Bair, the left-hand tributary bearing away north-east towards the foot of Hill Q and Koja Chemen Tepe. The ground between Chailak Dere and Aghyl Dere is chiefly marked by Bauchop’s Hill and Little Table Top. At the source of Aghyl Dere’s southern tributary, high up the front of the mountain, and just at the foot of Chunuk Bair’s precipitous cliff, lies a small patch of cultivated ground, in that year yellow with corn stubble, conspicuous from Suvla and the sea. A few brown sheds and a sort of dwelling stood on the farther side. This was the Farm.

[Sidenote: THE MAIN WATERCOURSES]

Proceeding northward again along “Ocean Beach” from the mouth of Aghyl Dere, one reaches a Dere commonly called Asmak, though it has other names (Iram Chai or Kasa Dere). This is the main watercourse draining the broad and open valley in which Biyuk (or Greater) Anafarta stands in a beautiful grove of cypresses, about three and a half miles from the sea. Several other Deres in the district are called “Asmak,” and it is probable that the name “Asma,” by which we knew the main tributary to this Dere, is really the same word. But, to keep the distinction, the Asma Dere runs into the Asmak nearly a mile from the mouth, and following its course, instead of going straight on to Biyuk Anafarta, one proceeds by a wide arc southward till the foot of Koja Chemen is reached. There one finds that the source is not far removed from the source of the northern branch of the Aghyl Dere, since both drain the highest section of the main ridge. The large space of ground thus almost enclosed between the Aghyl Dere on the south and the Asmak and Asma Deres beyond is singularly difficult and intricate. The low but steep hills and cliffs are sharply intersected by ravines running in every direction. The district is a jumble of sandy but hard mounds and scarps and fissures, with here and there a narrow slip or tongue of level ground running up among them. Few distinctive features mark locality, but about a mile from the sea stands a mass of low hill or broken plateau called Damakjelik Bair or Hill 40; and about another two-thirds of a mile inland to the north-east, across a brief but steep watercourse called Kaiajik Dere (another tributary to the Asmak), rises a similar but slightly higher mass of low hill or broken plateau called Kaiajik Aghala, soon to be famous as Hill 60. The Asma Dere runs past the farther side of Hill 60, and beyond the Asma rises the steep, long ridge of Abdel Rahman Bair, one of the main northern spurs or buttresses of Koja Chemen itself.

This bare analysis of a difficult country covers the ground of the main August attack, and the hills or watercourses named may serve as guides to the comprehension of the obscure and desperate conflicts. But no analysis or map or description can adequately express the roughness and complexity of that desert jungle, the steepness of its cliffs and spurs and edges, or the bewilderment of its dry watercourses, creeks, fissures, and ravines. Neither in the British island nor in Ireland is there a scene to compare with it, because in our islands the frequent rain and prevailing moisture smooth off the edges, fill the ravines with water, and cover even the crags with moss and ferns or grasses. The nearest resemblance I have seen was in the crinkled hills and cliffs upon the West Coast of Africa near Benguela. But there the yellow spurs and ravines are absolutely bare. On the Sari Mountains, parts of the lower slopes are concealed with the thick, prickly bush so often mentioned; parts with low pines. The summits are coated with thin grass and heath, while some of the ravines and sheltered spurs were then brilliant with the crimson flowering oleander, which our men called rhododendron, though it differs from the alien product introduced as an embellishment into English parks.

[Sidenote: GENERAL GODLEY’S FORCE]

The design of the main attack was drawn by Brigadier-General A. Skeen, the very able Chief of Staff at Anzac. It was accepted by Lieut.-General Birdwood, and approved by Sir Ian. Its execution was entrusted to Major-General Sir Alexander J. Godley, commanding the New Zealand and Australian Division. It was a complicated scheme--perhaps necessarily complicated owing to the intricacy of the ground, which prevented the united action of large bodies of troops, and rendered advance impossible except by thin columns sinuously winding up the Deres like snakes. Accordingly, General Godley was compelled to divide his troops. For the night attack of August 6–7 he divided them into two columns--a right and a left--each column being subdivided into a covering or advanced force, and an assaulting or main force. In Anzac as a whole (Sir Ian in his dispatch tells us) the troops at General Birdwood’s disposal amounted in round numbers to 37,000 rifles and 72 guns, with naval support from two cruisers, four monitors, and two destroyers. Of these military forces the following contingents were allotted to Major-General Godley for his enterprise:

His own New Zealand and Australian Division (less the 1st and 3rd Light Horse Brigades, desperately engaged upon the Anzac heights and the Nek, as we have seen);

The 13th Division under Major-General Shaw (less the 38th Brigade allotted to Army Corps Reserve and two battalions of the 40th Brigade at Anzac);

The 29th Indian Infantry Brigade (Major-General Cox);

The Indian Mountain Artillery Brigade (Lieut.-Colonel Parker, R.A.).

The Army Corps Reserve was the 29th Brigade, 10th Division (less one battalion), the 38th Brigade, 13th Division, and two battalions of the 40th Brigade.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: HIS ARRANGEMENT OF THE FORCE]

For the approach and first assault General Godley divided this force as follows, assigning to each of the four parts the objective mentioned below:

(1) _Right Covering Force_--

Brigadier-General A. H. Russell, New Zealand Mounted Rifles--

New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, and
Wellington Regiments);

Otago Mounted Rifles Regiment (Divisional Troops);

New Zealand Engineers Field Troop;

The Maori Contingent (about 500 under Lieut.-Colonel A. H.
Herbert).

This force was to advance up Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres, and seize Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, and Bauchop Hill.

(2) _Right Assaulting Column_--

Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston, New Zealand Infantry Brigade--

New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Auckland, Canterbury, Otago, and
Wellington Battalions);

26th Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);

No. 1 Company New Zealand Engineers.

This assaulting column was to follow the covering force up the Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres, and push on to the attack of Chunuk Bair.

(3) _Left Covering Force_--

Brigadier-General J. H. du B. Travers, 40th Infantry Brigade--

Two Battalions of the 40th Infantry Brigade, _i.e._ 4th South
Wales Borderers and 5th Wiltshire;

Half the 72nd Field Company Royal Engineers.

This force was to occupy Damakjelik Bair so as to cover the advance up Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the troops landing at Suvla.

(4) _Left Assaulting Column_--

Brigadier-General H. V. Cox, 29th Indian Infantry Brigade--

29th Indian Infantry Brigade (14th Sikhs, 5th, 6th, and 10th
Gurkha Rifles);

4th Australian Infantry Brigade (13th New South Wales, 14th
Victoria, 15th Queensland and Tasmania, 16th South and West
Australian Battalions);

21st Indian Mountain Battery (less one section);

No. 2 Company New Zealand Engineers.

This left assaulting column was to advance up the Aghyl Dere to the attack on Koja Chemen (Hill 971), and at the same time to protect the left flank of the whole force as soon as it had cleared its own covering force.

The Divisional Reserve was made up of remaining battalions of the 13th Division under Major-General F. C. Shaw, two battalions being stationed at Chailak Dere, and the 39th Brigade at Aghyl Dere, with half the 72nd Field Company R.E.

The total forces under General Godley’s command were estimated at about 12,000 men.[161]

* * * * *

For the sake of clearness, the ensuing movements may be divided into four stages of about twenty-four hours each, counting from evening to evening.

_Evening, August 6, to evening, August 7._

In the gathering darkness, about 9 p.m., on Friday, August 6, the whole force mustered between No. 2 and No. 3 Posts, having marched out from Anzac concealed by the shelter of the Long Sap. General Godley fixed his headquarters at No. 2 Post, and here the main supply of ammunition and water-cans was organised. The movements of the two covering forces and the two assaulting columns may be followed in the order given above, but it must be remembered that, in point of time, they were frequently simultaneous. The first task of the Right Covering Force (Brigadier-General Russell with his New Zealanders) was to clear the Turkish positions which dominated the lower course of the Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres--Old No. 3 Post, Big Table Top, between the Deres, and Bauchop’s Hill on the farther side of Chailak.

_Elliott & Fry_]

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR ALEXANDER GODLEY]

[Sidenote: OLD NO. 3 POST CAPTURED]

Old No. 3 Post is a steep and prominent hill, some 200 feet high, which we occupied as an extreme outpost soon after the landing, but lost on May 30, since when No. 3 Post, a similar but lower hill close to the shore, had been held as outpost by Lieut.-Colonel Bauchop with his Otago Mounted Rifles, other New Zealanders, and Maoris in turn. Since the Turks had recovered the Old Post they had converted it into a fortress of great strength, with entanglements, deep trenches, and head cover of solid timber balks. For its recapture a successful ruse was practised. For some weeks past, the destroyer _Colne_ (Commander Claude Seymour) had turned a vivid searchlight on to the hill, and bombarded it from 9 p.m. to 9.10 p.m. precisely, always repeating both operations from 9.20 to 9.30. This regularity had persuaded the Turks to regard the bombardment as a kind of Angelus or signal for a consecrated interval during which it was permissible to retire from the front trenches into the restful seclusion of tunnels and dug-outs. When the rite concluded, an old Turk, naturally nicknamed Achmet, used to trot round like a lamplighter, tying up the broken wires, and in a friendly spirit the New Zealanders agreed not to shoot him.[162] But now there was no more work for Achmet. Hidden beneath the blaze of the searchlight during the second customary bombardment, the Auckland Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Mackesy) stole across to the hill and climbed to the very top of the trenches. The moment that the light was switched off they were in among the Turks with bayonet and bomb (no rifle cartridges were issued to the covering forces that night). They found many Turks taking their ease in the cool of the evening, without coats or boots. Seventy were captured. The rest died, or scurried away down communication trenches. These trenches were not finally cleared till 11 p.m.

Meanwhile the attack on Big Table Top had far advanced. This hill, so conspicuous from northern Anzac for its precipitous sides and a flat top which appears even to overhang the sides, in reality forms part of the same long spur as Old No. 3 Post, and is connected with it by a ridge worn to a razor-edge by weather. The main hill, which rises to about 400 feet, was heavily bombarded by howitzers from the shore and by the _Colne_, as she turned her guns off the Old Post at 9.30. It appears probable that the destroyer _Chelmer_ (Commander Hugh T. England) joined in this bombardment; at all events, for this or other service she was coupled with the _Colne_ in dispatches. The bombardment lasted half an hour, and at 10 p.m. the infantry assault began upon a precipice steeper than the angle noted in text-books as “impracticable for infantry.” The Canterbury Regiment led the way. Impeded by rifles, fixed bayonets, packs, and other equipment, in darkness lit only by stars, they scaled a height which appears as precipitous as any overhanging English cliff, held by a brave and religiously inspired enemy. Of this exploit Sir Ian in his dispatch justly observes, “there are moments during battle when life becomes intensified.” In such a moment the New Zealanders, some of whom had practised mountain-climbing in the New Zealand Alps under such mountaineers as Mr. Malcolm Ross, their correspondent, climbed that seemingly inaccessible redoubt, more like a huge fortress tower than a hill. Pulling themselves up by their arms, while their legs hung in air, they stood upon the summit and stormed in upon the Turkish defences. The surviving Turks escaped up a long communication trench running across a narrow dip or Nek to the main Rhododendron Ridge, and the second dominating height between the Sazli Beit and Chailak Deres was won. The time was close upon midnight.

Whilst part of the covering force was thus victorious, the Otago Mounted Rifles, with some Maoris, had been for a while checked in attempting to penetrate up the Chailak Dere. Not more than a few hundred yards up this watercourse (then no more watery than those mounted troops were on horseback) the Turks had constructed an enormously strong barricade of thick wire and beams, commanded by an outpost only a few yards farther up. Right against this obstacle the Otago men came. A sudden outburst of fire from the trench beyond cut many down. They were so thick and close that no bullet which made its way through the deep network of wires could miss. The cutters came forward and began snipping the spiky ropes of iron. But many fell before a party of New Zealand Engineers (Captain Shera) forced a narrow passage. The advance up the Dere was thus delayed; but we who saw the remains of that barricade after it was partially cleared know there was nothing to choose between the heroism of those who cut the way through and of those who scaled the Table Top.

[Sidenote: CAPTURE OF BAUCHOP’S HILL]

Perhaps owing to this delay, or perhaps by plan, the main body of Otago Mounted Rifles did not follow up the Chailak Dere, but crossed it near the mouth, and turning sharply to the right a little farther on, advanced to assault the mass of low and complicated hill already known as Bauchop’s owing to his reconnaissance. Nature and military art had entrenched the position throughout, and it was intersected criss-cross by deep ravines. But the Turks did not hold it strongly. Startled by the Otago men, who worked round their right flank and attacked from the north side, they began to clear out of the bivouacs in which they had long lived in fairly comfortable leisure and were now surprised. At the first assault, Lieut.-Colonel A. Bauchop, while shouting, “Come on, boys! Charge!” fell mortally wounded by a bullet in the spine. The army thus lost one of its most capable officers, and a man of exceptionally attractive nature, who for months had commanded a position of great risk and responsibility. The occupation of the hill or system of ravines was completed just after 1 a.m. (August 7). The task set the Right Covering Force was accomplished.

[Sidenote: CLIMBING OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]

Half an hour after midnight the Right Assaulting Column was thus enabled to begin its advance up the two Deres. As above mentioned, its main force was the New Zealand Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston). The Canterbury Battalion proceeded alone up the Sazli Beit Dere, and met with small difficulty except from the nature of the ground, which, indeed, was so intricate that half the battalion lost its way and found itself back at the starting-point.[163] In consequence, Colonel J. G. Hughes could not muster the battalion for the ascent of the main spur (Rhododendron Ridge, at first called Canterbury Ridge) till just before dawn. The other three battalions (Otago, Auckland, and Wellington, in that order) advancing up the Chailak Dere were equally hampered by the obscure and tangled country. They also encountered violent opposition, which compelled the leading battalion to deploy in the darkness. Some of the troops were told off to assist the covering force on their left in finally clearing Bauchop’s Hill and another smaller eminence known as Little Table Top.[164] But pushing steadily forward, the three battalions succeeded, though late, in joining up with the Canterbury Battalion on the lower slopes of the main Rhododendron Ridge, which ran straight up to the right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair, now deep purple against the rising sun.

The attack upon this central height was to have been made before dawn. It was late. Under increasing daylight, shrapnel began to spit and shower overhead, striking with cross-fire from Battleship Hill and a position on the left crest of Chunuk. The men were much exhausted. They had accomplished a night march of extreme difficulty, exposed to continuous perils and surprises. Nevertheless, the united battalions struggled forward up the ridge, rough with every obstacle and rising with a steep gradient. After a toilsome climb, at 8 a.m. they reached a point (almost at once called the Mustard Plaster, but afterwards known as the Apex) where a depression in the ridge afforded some slight cover from the guns, and there they hurriedly entrenched a position. On the left it hangs above the Farm, upon which the farthest end of it looks steeply down. A narrow but uninterrupted Nek of some 400 or 500 yards (roughly a quarter-mile) extends the ridge to the sky-line summit--the right or southern shoulder of Chunuk Bair.

[Sidenote: THE ASMA DERE AND THE FARM]

Meantime, on the previous evening, the Left Covering Force (Brigadier-General Travers) had followed so closely upon the heels of the Right Covering Force along the shore that they had to pass through them at the mouth of Chailak Dere. When clear, they proceeded straight forward along the level to Aghyl Dere, though exposed to desultory fire from Bauchop’s Hill, not yet fully occupied. Turning sharply up the Dere, they emerged from it to the left and seized the entrenchments on the confused heights of Damakjelik Bair with so impetuous a rush that some Turkish officers were caught in the unsuspecting security of pyjamas. In this attack the 4th South Wales Borderers (under Lieut.-Colonel F. M. Gillespie, an exceptionally fine officer) especially distinguished themselves, and by 1.30 a.m. the position was securely held. The force was thus able to cover the advance of the assaulting column up the Aghyl Dere, and to come into touch with the Suvla landing farther north.

The Left Assaulting Column, consisting, as was mentioned, of the 4th Australian Infantry Brigade (Brigadier-General Monash) and the Indian Brigade, the whole under command of Brigadier-General Cox, after breaking from their permanent camp at the foot of the Sphinx, came at once under a storm of shrapnel. They followed the Covering Force almost too closely, and found themselves strongly opposed after advancing some distance up the Aghyl Dere. General Monash threw out one battalion as a screen, and progress was very slow, the intersecting ravines making the ground almost impenetrable. At the confluence of the two tributaries which form the main Dere, General Monash moved up the northern fork, keeping two battalions well away to his left in the hope of co-operating with the Suvla force in the projected assault upon Koja Chemen Tepe. During this slow and obstructed advance, the Australians discovered the emplacements of two “75’s,” which had long troubled Anzac, where they were called “the Anafartas,” but the guns had been hurried away. It was not till dawn that the brigade reached the ridge above the upper reaches of the Asma Dere. There General Monash received the order to concentrate the battalions, leave a guard for his present position, and attack the towering height of Koja Chemen. The Sikh Battalion of the Indian Brigade was sent up from the southern branch of the Aghyl Dere in his support. But the enemy in front was now strong and fully aroused. The Australians were exhausted by their toilsome and hazardous march. No farther advance could be made, and the ridge overlooking the Asma was hurriedly entrenched.

The remaining three Indian Battalions (Gurkha Rifles) persistently clambered up the steep course of the Aghyl Dere’s southern fork, till they reached a position facing the Farm. Their right thus came into touch with the New Zealanders on Rhododendron Ridge, while their centre and left stood ready to climb the steep front of the main range and assault “Hill Q.” By about 9 a.m. (August 7) the whole force was thus extended in a broken and irregular line from the upper slopes of Rhododendron Ridge, past the front of the Farm, down the southern fork of the Aghyl Dere, along the northern fork, and across the rugged ground above the Asma Dere. The right flank rested on Anzac and held the important positions of Old No. 3 Post and Table Top. The left flank was guarded by Damakjelik Bair and by the division now landed at Suvla, whose co-operation was counted upon. Except for a delay of about three hours, all the movements had been carried out as designed. But the Turks could now be seen swarming along the summits from Battleship Hill. Every hour the heat was increasing to extreme intensity. General Birdwood truly said in his report, “The troops had performed a feat which is without parallel.” But by this feat they were now exhausted.

A general attempt to renew the attack was made at 9.30 a.m., but the task was too heavy. About 11 a.m. again, the Auckland Battalion, hitherto in reserve, bravely struggled up the narrow Nek (only some 40 yards broad), which, as described above, forms the end of Rhododendron Ridge, connecting it with the summit. But they were swept by Turkish guns apparently near “Hill Q,” and on reaching a Turkish trench only about 200 yards from the top, they were driven back.[165] Orders were, therefore, issued to both columns to strengthen and hold their present positions with a view to further advance before dawn on the following day. Meantime, supplies were sent up, so far as possible, from the advanced base at No. 2 Post. As usual throughout the campaign, the supply of water was the greatest need and the greatest difficulty, fine as was the conduct of the Indian drivers of water mules. The convoys were also continually exposed to shrapnel from the heights, and to the rifle-fire of snipers still lurking in large numbers invisible among the bushes and ravines of the wide stretch of country occupied during the night.

_From the evening of August 7 to the evening of August 8._

[Sidenote: RE-ARRANGEMENT FOR AUGUST 8]

During the evening both of the Assaulting Columns were reinforced. The Right Column (Brigadier-General F. E. Johnston) received the Auckland Mounted Rifles and the Maori contingent from the Right Covering Force, together with two battalions (8th Welsh Pioneers and 7th Gloucesters) from the 13th Division in reserve. The Left Assaulting Column (Brigadier-General H. V. Cox) received three battalions from the 39th Brigade, 13th Division (9th R. Warwicks, 9th Worcesters, and 7th North Staffords, the 7th Gloucesters going to the Right Column, as above), together with the 6th South Lancashire (38th Brigade). The Right Column was to proceed with the attack on Chunuk Bair; the Left Column to assault “Hill Q” in the centre, and with its left to work round north-east to the steep ridge called Abdel Rahman Bair for an assault upon Koja Chemen Tepe.

[Sidenote: THE SUMMIT OF RHODODENDRON RIDGE]

Before daylight on Sunday, August 8, the edge of the heights from Battleship Hill to “Hill Q” was heavily bombarded by monitors and cruisers, together with the batteries on the flats. At the first dawn (4.15) a column, led by Lieut.-Colonel W. G. Malone, the hero of Quinn’s Post, with his accustomed enthusiasm, dashed up the steep and narrow slope to the summit of Rhododendron Ridge. Colonel Malone’s own Wellington Battalion went first. The 7th Gloucesters closely followed. The Auckland Mounted Rifles and Welsh Pioneers came in support. The Wellingtons reached the actual top of the ridge. They sprang into a long Turkish communication trench, which they found empty but for an isolated party with a machine-gun just arrived from Achi Baba. They spread out towards the right. Immediately on their left, two companies of the Gloucesters also reached the summit, and sprang into the trench. Against the sunrise their figures could be dimly discerned from the sea, and the hope of victory rose high. Two other Gloucester Companies swung slightly to the right and entrenched below the sky-line in rear of the Wellingtons. But during the rush the Gloucesters had been exposed to a terrible storm of shrapnel and rifle-fire coming from the higher ground northward on their left, and were already much reduced. As often happens in a charge, the supports came under a heavier fire than the first lines, and though the Auckland Mounted Rifles got through and joined the Wellingtons, it was not till the afternoon. The remainder appear to have been checked.[166]

In the meantime the position of the British and New Zealanders upon the summit was indeed terrible. Perceiving how small their numbers were, the Turks turned every kind of fire upon the trench. Large parties of them kept creeping up the trench itself from the right or southern end, and hurling bombs. So exposed was the position that Colonel Malone drew his men out of the trench, and marked out a fresh trench 15 yards in rear of it. Here they dug; but tools were short, bombs were short, and water had run out. The trench was less than a foot deep. On the left, the Gloucester companies were almost annihilated. Attack after attack swept up against them. Every officer was killed or wounded. In his dispatch, Sir Ian says that by midday the battalion (apparently the other two companies had by that time come into line) consisted of small groups of men commanded by junior non-commissioned officers or privates.

“Chapter and verse,” he adds, “may be quoted for the view that the
rank and file of an army cannot long endure the strain of close
hand-to-hand fighting unless they are given confidence by the example
of good officers. Yet here is at least one instance where a battalion
of the New Army fought right on, from midday till sunset, without
_any_ officers.”

In a few hours Colonel Malone was compelled to withdraw again to a new trench a few yards to the rear, because the trench recently dug was too full of dead and dying to give the slightest cover. He himself, as was told me by one present, carried a rifle pierced with bullets, which he said he was keeping as a trophy for his home. Whilst he was still carefully marking the completion of the new trench, sedulously cultivating the domestic virtues to the last, a terrific outburst of shrapnel showered down upon his devoted party, and he fell. It was about 4 p.m., just after the Auckland Mounted Rifles had succeeded in reaching the position. At 5 o’clock he died. Colonel Moore of the Otago Battalion succeeded him, but was wounded during the night while the dwindling force still clung to the position, and the south-west shoulder of Chunuk Bair was ours--was uncertainly ours.

In the centre, around the Farm at the foot of the precipitous front of Chunuk Bair, the remaining three battalions of the 39th Brigade attempted to advance up the mountain side by keeping to the right or south of the cultivated yellow patch and empty buildings. Similarly, on the left or north-east side, the three Gurkha battalions crept some distance up the spurs leading to the dip or saddle between Chunuk Bair and “Hill Q.” This advance served them well on the following day, but on the Sunday the proposed attack upon this section of the summit line came to nothing owing to the murderous fire poured upon both attempts.

[Sidenote: ATTEMPT AT ABDEL RAHMAN]

On the same Sunday (August 8) the extreme left of Brigadier-General Cox’s assaulting columns was under orders, as mentioned, to attack the dominating height of Koja Chemen Tepe itself by way of the precipitous northern ridge or spur called Abdel Rahman Bair. The advance began in darkness at 3 a.m. Leaving the 13th (New South Wales) Battalion to hold the ridge overlooking Asma Dere and now entrenched, Brigadier-General Monash placed the 15th (Queensland and Tasmania, under Lieut.-Colonel Cannan) Battalion of his 4th Australian Brigade in front, the 14th (Victoria, under Major Rankine) and the 16th (S. and W. Australia, under Lieut.-Colonel Pope) following closely. Sliding down the steep descent of sandstone rock from the top of their ridge, the men formed up into column in the valley of Asma Dere below, and cautiously advanced, avoiding a field of standing wheat lest the rustle should arouse the enemy. They had not gone far over the rough and pathless waste when a few shots and dimly discerned figures hastening away showed that they had struck into the enemy’s outposts. The 15th Battalion accordingly deployed, and threw a platoon forward as a screen. Thus the advance was continued for about half a mile, when the dark mass of Abdel Rahman was seen against the gradually increasing light, running like a vast barrier straight across their course. Hardly had their right touched the first slopes when an overwhelming machine-gun and rifle-fire burst upon them from the whole length of the front. All three battalions deployed into platoons, and attempted to continue the advance in spite of continuous loss. A screen was thrown out to protect the left flank, which hung “in air,” exposed to attack from Biyuk Anafarta valley and any guns there chanced to be on Ismail Oglu Tepe (“W Hill”) beyond it.[167] If only the Divisions landed at Suvla had seized that vital hill! Now if ever was their support called for. But no help came. The platoons struggled up the steep bastions of the ridge in their attempt to scale the height. But the fire was impenetrable: the deaths too numerous. It appears that the brigade had, in fact, fallen up against strong Turkish reinforcements coming from Biyuk Anafarta to the main range. Sir Ian’s dispatch describes the battalions as “virtually surrounded.” Overwhelmed, at all events, by numbers and forced into an untenable position, they had no choice but to hew their way back. Their loss was already 1000--more than a third of their force. Grimly they retired, bringing their wounded in. By 9 a.m. they were back behind the ridge they had entrenched the night before. There, though exhausted by heat, thirst, and the weariness of prolonged effort without sleep, they maintained themselves for the rest of the day against violent and repeated attacks.

That Sunday evening the Right Assaulting Column lay upon Rhododendron Ridge, the main body partially sheltered in the depression afterwards called the Apex, and the relics of three battalions clinging to the top where it reaches the summit of the Chunuk Bair right shoulder. The Left Assaulting Column was divided, part round the Farm and high upon its north-east ridges, part entrenched but heavily attacked upon the ridge overlooking Asma Dere.

_From the evening of August 8 to the evening of August 9._

[Sidenote: BALDWIN’S COLUMN ON AUGUST 9]

For the renewed attack next morning, a third assaulting column was organised out of the 10th and 13th Divisions in the Army Corps reserve. Brigadier-General A. H. Baldwin (38th Brigade) was instructed to take two battalions of his own brigade (6th East Lancashire and 6th Loyal North Lancashire) together with two from the 29th Brigade (10th Hampshire and 6th Royal Irish Rifles) and one from the 40th Brigade (5th Wiltshire), and assemble in the evening of August 8 in the Chailak Dere. Advancing thence through the night, he was to follow up Rhododendron Ridge, and co-operating with the Right Assaulting Column (General Johnston’s) was to move in successive lines to the summit, and thence to the left towards “Hill Q.” This was to form the main attack of the day. General Baldwin sent the Loyal North Lancashires forward in advance, and with the remaining four battalions began the long and toilsome march upward. The track was by this time fairly well trodden, and every precaution was taken to keep it clear of wounded and “empties” coming down. Guides for the column were also provided. It is true, the night was pitch dark, the ascent rough and, towards the end, very steep. The column moved slowly, and was behind the appointed time; but it is difficult to imagine that, in Sir Ian’s words, “in plain English, Baldwin lost his way--through no fault of his own.” It was sunrise by the time the main ascent was reached. His column would be perfectly visible to the enemy’s artillery, and the fire was very heavy. Perhaps the officers were attracted by the Farm as a sheltered place in which to pause and reorganise. At all events, the column did not reach its appointed destination, but found itself at 5.15 a.m. down in the deep hollow of the Farm on the left of the ridge which it should have climbed to the Apex. The Farm, being a definite point visible for miles around owing to its patch of yellow stubble, and affording also a certain amount of cover against fire from the height, probably tended to attract or mislead guides and troops from their proper direction.

[Sidenote: SUMMIT NEAR HILL Q STORMED]

Just at the very time when General Baldwin’s brigade began at last to emerge upon the Farm, a tragic and much disputed scene was being enacted upon the summit far above them. On the previous day, as we have noticed, part of General Cox’s column had worked their way up the spurs on the left (north-east) of the Farm. During the night they pushed still farther up the height, which, as noticed, appears almost precipitous. The 6th Gurkhas were leading, under command of Major Cecil G. L. Allanson. The 6th South Lancashires (38th Brigade) were close behind, supported by the 9th Warwicks and 7th North Staffords (39th Brigade), sent up to reinforce this column on the night of August 7–8, as above mentioned. The Gurkhas climbed during the darkness to a line about 150 yards below the crest. Here they dug what trench or shelter was possible upon such an angle of slope, and two companies of the South Lancashires joined them. At early dawn, about 4.30, the warships, monitors, and guns along the shore began a terrible bombardment of the whole crest along Chunuk Bair, “Hill Q,” and the saddle between. The enormous shells burst upon the edge just above the small assaulting party which crouched below, almost deafened but unharmed. A monitor’s shell striking the sky-line flings up a spout of black smoke, huge fragments, and dust which spreads fan-shape like the explosion of a sudden volcano. With such explosions the whole mountain edge smoked and shook. All parapets and shallow trenches lining the top were torn to pieces, uprooted, and flattened out. It seemed impossible for any human being to endure so overwhelming a visitation or to remain alive. Yet Turks remained.

According to orders, this terrific bombardment was to be switched off on to the flanks and reverse slopes at 5.16 a.m.[168] The moment came. Suddenly the guns were silent. It was the signal for the storming party. The little Gurkha mountaineers crawled up the precipice like flies. The South Lancashire crawled, mixed up among them. They reached the topmost edge. Hand to hand the Turks rushed upon them as they rose. The struggle was for life or death. Major Allanson was wounded. Men and officers fell together. But the fight was brief. Shaken by the bombardment, overcome in daring and activity by some 400 startling Gurkhas and solid Lancastrians, the surviving Turks suddenly turned and ran for life down the steep slope to the refuge of the steeper gullies below.

For a moment Major Allanson and his men paused to draw breath. They were standing on the saddle between Chunuk Bair and “Hill Q.” The dead lay thick around them. But below, straight in front, lit by the risen sun, like a white serpent sliding between the purple shores, ran the sea, the Narrows, the Dardanelles, the aim and object of all these battles and sudden deaths. Never since Xenophon’s Ten Thousand cried “The sea! the sea!” had sight been more welcome to a soldier’s eyes. There went the ships. There were the transports bringing new troops over from Asia. There ran the road to Maidos, though the town of Maidos was just hidden by the hill before it. There was the Krithia road. Motor-lorries moved along it carrying shells and supplies to Achi Baba. So Sir Ian had been right. General Birdwood had been right. This was the path to victory. Only hold that summit and victory is ours. The Straits are opened. A conquered Turkey and a friendly Bulgaria will bar the German path to the East. Peace will come back again, and the most brilliant strategic conception in the war will be justified.

In triumphant enthusiasm, Gurkhas and Lancastrians raced and leapt down the reverse slope, pursuing the Turks as they scattered and ran. Major Allanson, though wounded, himself raced with them. They fired as they went. It was a moment of supreme exultation. Suddenly, before they had gone a hundred yards, crash into the midst of them fell five or six large shells and exploded. In the words of Sir Ian’s dispatch: “Instead of Baldwin’s support came suddenly a salvo of heavy shell.”

[Sidenote: WHENCE CAME THE DISASTROUS SHELLS?]

Where those fatal shells came from was at the time, and still remains, a cause of bitter controversy. All on the summit believed them British. This may have been a mistake. It is a common error for an advance line to suppose it is being shelled by its own side. But probably the shells were British. Outside the navy, nearly every one at the time believed them to be naval,[169] and though the range must have been some four or five miles, the accuracy of the naval shooting at a visible mark had been proved by that morning’s bombardment, over the same distance. But the general belief may have been founded on a mere suspicion constantly repeated. It has long appeared to me that two sentences in Sir Ian’s dispatch suggest a more probable explanation. As quoted above, he says the orders were for the bombardment to be switched on to the flanks and reverse slopes of the heights at 5.16 a.m. He further says that the Gurkhas and South Lancashires, after reaching the crest, “began to attack down the far side of it,” _i.e._ down the reverse slopes of the hill. It would be natural for our gunners to wait some minutes before bombarding the reverse slope, so as to catch the enemy retreating or reinforcements coming up. In any case, they were under orders to bombard the reverse slope, and they obeyed. But what guns could bombard a reverse slope? As was proved throughout the campaign, the trajectory of naval guns was so flat that either they hit the top of the mountain (as they almost invariably did) or their shells skimmed across the top to burst miles away in Asia. A reverse slope would be exactly the thing they could never hit. For a reverse slope, mortars or howitzers are wanted. There were howitzers near No. 2 Post and along the flats beside the shore, and their orders were to bombard the reverse slope after 5.16 a.m. This explanation is suggested, but the controversy will be forgotten before settled.

Whatever the cause, the effect was disaster irretrievable--disaster leaving its lamentable mark upon the world’s history. Amid the scattered limbs and shattered bodies of their comrades, the exultant pursuers stopped aghast. They began to stumble back. They scrambled to the crest and over it. Major Allanson with a small group stood firm, taking one last look upon that scene of dazzling hope. But the Turkish officers with the supports had observed the check. Seizing the moment, they urged their fresh companies upward, in turn pursuing. Against the gathering crowd a handful could not stand. Wounded and isolated, Major Allanson withdrew the last of his men. Down the face of the mountain they came upon the little trench from which they had adventurously started less than half an hour before. They alone had witnessed and shared the crisis. They alone had watched the moment when the campaign swung upon the fateful hinge. No soldier in our army was ever to behold that triumphant prospect again.[170]

Why the troops who were a little lower down the slope, in support, did not at once push up to the assistance of the Gurkhas and Lancastrians on the summit has not been explained. They belonged to the New Army, and were rushed into a most difficult and terrible conflict. It was Monday morning, and they had been given little sleep since Saturday, and little if any food or water except in the rations and water-bottles (1½ pint) which they brought with them. No doubt they were exhausted. But every one was exhausted, and others had been out longer in the assaulting column. One might have supposed that here their great opportunity had come. Why they did not take it, we are not informed.

[Sidenote: TURKS RECAPTURE THE SUMMIT]

It was in vain now that General Baldwin’s brigade, arriving at the Farm at the very crisis of frustrated design, began to push up the steep with the 10th Hants and two companies of the 6th East Lancashires. They appear to have attempted a spur nearer the Farm than the point where the Gurkhas climbed, which was half a mile away to the left. But they made little progress. The Turks, crowding the summit, now exultant in their turn, poured down such storms of fire that the new advance was checked, and General Baldwin was compelled to order re-concentration at the Farm, where the brigade remained.

The Turks in their triumph, though not daring as yet to advance far over the crest, turned in exultant assault upon the exhausted body of New Zealanders and Gloucesters still lying exposed near the summit of the Chunuk Bair shoulder, just to the right of the Nek on Rhododendron Ridge, up which Baldwin’s brigade ought to have advanced at dawn. About 800 men still clung to the shallow and hastily constructed trenches there. They lay unprotected by wire, and below the sky-line, so that when the enemy came swarming over the summit with bayonet or bomb, our rifles had only some twenty or thirty yards’ interval in which to mow them down. This mistake in position was thought at the time to spring from a memory of old South African tactics, in which the sky-line was always avoided. But we have seen the reasons why Colonel Malone had been compelled twice to remove the trenches a few yards farther from the top.

Through the heat of the day and afternoon the men lay there resisting repeated onset. Late on that Monday evening, they were at last withdrawn and relieved. The New Zealanders had been fighting continuously and under extreme strain since Friday night; the Gloucesters since Saturday. The noblest endurance could stand no more. The 6th Loyal North Lancashires (38th Brigade) and the 5th Wilts (40th Brigade) were sent up to occupy the extreme position which had been so steadfastly retained.

_From the evening of August 9 to the evening of August 10._

No more than these two battalions were ordered because, in Sir Ian’s words, “General Sir William Birdwood is emphatic on the point that the nature of the ground was such that there was no room on the crest for more than this body of 800 to 1000 rifles.” Had Major Allanson been able to hold his splendidly won position to the right of “Hill Q,” the whole crest of Chunuk Bair would have been free for our occupation. Had the expected advance from Suvla been pushed forward with vigour between August 7 and 9, the Turks could not have concentrated forces for the fatal counter-attack upon Chunuk Bair on the 10th. Those two failures combined to frustrate the admirably designed movement of August, and ultimately involved the whole campaign in failure.

As it was, the 6th Loyal Lancashires passed up the Rhododendron Ridge in good time during the night, and duly occupied the trenches near the summit as the New Zealanders and Gloucesters were withdrawn. Their commandant, Lieut.-Colonel H. G. Levinge, even attempted to improve the position by throwing out observation posts to the sky-line, so as to command the reverse slope. The 5th Wiltshire (Lieut.-Colonel J. Carden), delayed by the difficulties of the steep and encumbered ascent, did not arrive till 4 a.m., just as dawn was breaking, and lay down in a position believed to be covered but really exposed.

[Sidenote: LANCASHIRES AND WILTSHIRES DESTROYED]

Hardly had they settled down when every available Turkish gun was turned upon the two weak and harassed battalions. The bombardment was endured for about an hour, and then, at 5.30 a.m., the Turks under German leaders directed an overwhelming counter-attack upon the devoted New Army men. For this attack they were able to employ a full Division and three extra battalions, certainly not less than 12,000 men, probably more. Crouching in their unfortunate positions, our two battalions were engulfed or swept away, as by an irresistible tide. They were driven from their shallow and hurriedly constructed trenches. Both their Colonels were killed. The Wiltshires were “literally almost annihilated.”[171]

Recognising the significance of the summit’s reoccupation, and triumphant as never before, the Turks swarmed over the edge down into the deep gullies on the right or south of Rhododendron Ridge, probably with the design of cutting our assaulting columns off from the base at Anzac and encircling them to destruction. This threatening movement was checked partly by the battalions in support upon the Ridge itself, but mainly by the naval guns (now secure of a visible target), the New Zealand, Australian, and Indian guns, and the 69th Brigade R.F.A. The service of a ten machine-gun battery, part of the New Zealand Machine-gun Section organised and commanded by Major J. Wallingford (Auckland Battalion),[172] was the subject of great eulogy at the time. This battery “played upon their serried ranks at close range until the barrels were red-hot. Enormous losses were inflicted, especially by these ten machine-guns.”[173] Reinforcements hurrying along the sky-line from Battleship Hill were similarly exposed to the larger guns. Brave as the Turks showed themselves in this their hour of apparent triumph, they could make no progress against so violent a storm of destruction. The attack melted away. Few struggled back into safety over the summit, and the right flank of our columns was secured.

[Sidenote: THE FIGHTING AT THE FARM]

Simultaneously with the onset which overwhelmed our two battalions on the summit, the Turks appearing in similar massed lines along the sky-line of Chunuk Bair itself and the saddle between that and “Hill Q,” began to pour down the face of the range. They must have swept over the thin defences which had sheltered the 6th Gurkhas. They broke through the outposts of General Baldwin’s central column. They broke through our line at various points. They reached the Farm. Some of our companies were driven in confusion down the tangled spurs and ravines. Near the foot of the mountain they were finely rallied by Staff-Captain Street, who was looking after the supply of food and water. By sheer force of personality, he led them unhesitatingly back into the thick of the intense conflict upon that conspicuous stubble-field. In Sir Ian’s words:

“It was a series of struggles in which Generals fought in the ranks
and men dropped their scientific weapons and caught one another by
the throat. So desperate a battle cannot be described. The Turks came
on again and again, fighting magnificently, calling upon the name of
God. Our men stood to it, and maintained, by many a deed of daring,
the old traditions of their race. There was no flinching. They died
in the ranks where they stood.”

Here fell General Baldwin, whom I had known first as a Captain in the 1st Manchesters on Cæsar’s Hill in Ladysmith, and later in the lines at Helles. As in some medieval battle, all his Staff fell with him. Lieut.-Colonel M. H. Nunn, 9th Worcesters, was killed. The Worcesters were left that day without a single officer. So were the Warwicks. So, as we have seen, were the Gloucesters. At the Farm also Brigadier-General Cooper (29th Brigade) was severely wounded. Brigadier-General Cayley (39th Brigade) was mentioned for distinguished courage. The Farm, though recovered that day, was ultimately abandoned to the Turks, who drove an enormous trench across the stubble-field, and entangled the whole front with wire. But to the end the shrunken relics of the dead who fell that morning remained in lines and heaps upon the ground.

Hearing of the violent and almost successful counter-attack, General Birdwood hurried up the last two battalions of his Corps Reserve--the 5th Connaught Rangers (29th Brigade) being one.[174] But by 10 a.m. the immediate danger was over. The force of the attack was spent. The few surviving Turks began to scramble back over the summit. As Captain Bean wrote at the time:

“A few Turks could still be seen at about two o’clock, hopping
desperately into any cover that suggested itself. Out of at least
three or four thousand who came over the ridge only twos and threes
got back--probably not five hundred in all. But the attack had one
result. It had driven the garrison down from the trenches which
Wellington and the Gloucesters had won on the summit of Chunuk Bair,
and back on to the high spur 500 yards distant which New Zealand
had won the first night. The lines were now beginning to coagulate
into the two settled rows of opposing trenches in which every modern
battle seems to end.”

The Turks cleared the dead from the summit by dropping them over the edge at the highest point of Chunuk Bair, and letting them slide down that precipitous ravine or “chimney” which was mentioned above. To the end of the campaign that chimney was black with corpses and uniforms, weathered and wasting between the rocky sides.

Far away to the left, on the low but deeply intersected hills and ridges overlooking the Asma Dere, General Monash’s 4th Australian Brigade and the 4th South Wales Borderers were also compelled on the morning and afternoon of the same day (August 10) to resist violent counter-attacks coming across from the Abdel Rahman spur. They held their position, but the South Wales Borderers lost their commandant, the excellent soldier, Lieut.-Colonel Gillespie, who left his name on part of the district he had helped to win.

[Sidenote: OUR LOSSES]

The total casualties in General Birdwood’s Army Corps from the Friday night to the Tuesday night amounted to 12,000,[175] by far the greater proportion of whom were lost in General Godley’s two divisions allotted for the main attack on Sari Bair. The gallantry and skill of divisions cannot be estimated by losses. But still it is noticeable that the New Army Division (13th, under Major-General Shaw) lost more than 50 per cent. (6000 out of 10,500), and 10 commanding officers out of 13. The proportion of officers killed and wounded was, indeed, unusually high in all brigades. As to the troops in general, perhaps only those who are well acquainted with the extreme complexity of the country, and with the strain of night marches into the heart of an enemy’s positions, followed by assaults upon strongly held mountain heights at dawn, can fully appreciate the true significance of the last paragraph in General Godley’s report, as quoted in Sir Ian’s dispatch:

“I cannot close my report without placing on record my unbounded
admiration of the work performed, and the gallantry displayed, by the
troops and their leaders during the severe fighting involved in these
operations. Though the Australian, New Zealand, and Indian units had
been confined to trench duty in a cramped space for some four months,
and though the troops of the New Armies had only just landed from a
sea voyage, and many of them had not been previously under fire, I
do not believe that any troops in the world could have accomplished
more. All ranks vied with one another in the performance of gallant
deeds, and more than worthily upheld the best traditions of the
British Army.”

[Sidenote: THE FAILURE AND ITS CAUSES]

In his dispatch, Sir Ian mentions that at times he thought of throwing his reserves (the 53rd and 54th Divisions, coming up through Mudros) into this central battle. He thinks they probably would have turned the scale. The Corps and Divisional Commanders assured him there was no room for additional troops. But it was the water difficulty, he says, which made him give up the idea. The thirst of the troops in this part of the general attack was such that when the mules with the water “pakhals” arrived at the front, the men rushed up to them just to lick the moisture oozing through the canvas bags. Thirst is the most terrible of physical sufferings, and no one who has known it will wonder at Sir Ian’s decision. Still the want of water was almost equally cruel at Suvla, whither the Reserve Divisions were ultimately sent. There they arrived after the decisive days were passed, and fell under the curse of an inert spirit, very different from the spirit of the Sari Bair assault. If their presence at Anzac would indeed have turned the scale, it is part of the Dardanelles tragedy that the Commander-in-Chief, unable to foresee the Suvla conditions, or still hoping too much from the new landing there, did not venture upon the risk, however dangerous.

For in spite of all the gallantry and endurance (which Napoleon counted a more essential quality in a soldier than courage), and in spite of all the careful organisation of supply and medical care, the main attack had failed by sunset of Tuesday, August 10. A large extent of ground had been occupied. From Rhododendron Ridge on the right to Asma Dere on the left, and all between those two points and the sea, the country was now in our possession. Anzac was enlarged from barely 300 acres to about 8 square miles.[176] It was possible now to walk or ride from Anzac to Suvla Bay, though snipers always endangered the route. Yet the attack had failed. The summits of Sari Bair were not held. The Straits were still closed; Constantinople still distant. Mistakes, no doubt, had been made, but mistakes could have been retrieved. The ultimate cause of failure was simply this: our attacking forces were outnumbered and checked by an enemy holding positions of enormous natural strength, and the task of diverting and reducing the enemy’s force from Suvla, or of actually contributing new troops thence to the central movement, was not fulfilled.