GALLIPOLI! It was a lunacy that never had the chance to succeed, an idiocy generated by muddled thinking. By attacking the Turks, the Allies merely allowed the Turks the opportunity to kill British, Anzac and French soldiers in large numbers.
August 1915
So many different battles, so many lives lost, whether on the battlefield or by the conditions.
Sick and wounded troops waiting to be
evacuated from Anzac Cove.Gallipoli, 1915.
At the end of the battle, there were 2,277 Australian casualties," he said. "Turkish losses are not known but are estimated at perhaps double that. A greater number died in that battle than perhaps are gathered here today to commemorate them."
The Battle of the Nek (Turkish: Kılıçbayır Muharebesi) was a small World War I battle fought as part of the Gallipoli campaign. "The Nek" was a narrow stretch of ridge in the Anzac battlefield on the Gallipoli Peninsula. The name derives from the Afrikaans word for a "mountain pass" but the terrain itself was a perfect bottleneck and easy to defend, as had been proven during an Ottoman attack in May. It connected the Anzac trenches on the ridge known as "Russell's Top" to the knoll called "Baby 700" on which the Ottoman defenders were entrenched.
On 7 August 1915 two regiments of the Australian 3rd Light Horse Brigade mounted a tragic and futile attack on the Ottoman trenches on Baby 700. The battle became known as "Godley's abattoir"
For the three months since the 25 April landings, the Anzac beachhead had been a stalemate. In August an offensive (which later became known as the Battle of Sari Bair) was intended to break the deadlock by capturing the high ground of the Sari Bair range, and linking the Anzac front with a new landing to the north at Suvla. In addition to the main advance north out of the Anzac perimeter, a number of supporting attacks were planned from the existing trench positions.
The attack at the Nek was meant to coincide with an attack by New Zealand troops from Chunuk Bair, which was to be captured during the night. The light horsemen were to attack across the Nek to Baby 700 while the New Zealanders descended from the rear onto Battleship Hill, the next knoll above Baby 700.
The 3rd Light Horse Brigade, which was fast commanded by Colonel F.G. Hughes, comprised the 8th, 9th and 10th Light Horse Regiments. Like the other Australian Light Horse and the New Zealand Mounted Rifles regiments, they had been dispatched to Gallipoli in May as infantry reinforcements, leaving their horses in Egypt.
On the morning of 7 August, it was clear that the prerequisites for the attack had not been met. The plan drafted by Colonel Andrew Skeen required a simultaneous attack from the rear of Baby 700, thereby creating a hammer and anvil effect on the Ottoman trenches caught in between this pincer movement. Because the New Zealand advance was held up, and failed to reach Chunuk Bair until the morning of 8 August, a day late, the reason for charging at the Nek evaporated.
A further part of the Skeen plan required an attack from Steele's Post against German Officers' Trench by the 6th Battalion, 2nd Infantry Brigade of the Australian 1st Division, which failed. The Ottoman machine guns sited there enfiladed the ground in front of Quinn's Post and the Nek. The Ottoman machine gunners did not suffer any casualties as a result. Nonetheless, Major General Sir Alexander Godley, commander of the New Zealand and Australian Division of which the 3rd Light Horse Brigade was then a part, declared that the attack was to proceed.
Owing to a failure of timing instructions, the artillery preparation ceased at 4:23 am while the attack was not launched until 4:30 am.
After the artillery firing ceased, no one knew if the bombardment was to continue. It was later discovered that the synchronisation of watches between the artillery officer and the assault officer was overlooked.
As a result, the attack was not launched at the scheduled time, giving the Ottoman defenders ample time to return to their trenches and prepare for the assault that they now knew was coming. The first wave of 150 men from the 8th Light Horse Regiment, led by their commander, Lieutenant Colonel A.H. White, "hopped the bags" and went over the top. They were met with a hail of machine gun and rifle fire and within 30 seconds, Colonel White and all of his men were gunned down. A few men reached the Ottoman trenches, and marker flags were reportedly seen flying, but they were quickly overwhelmed and shot or bayoneted by the Ottoman defenders.
The second wave of 150 followed the first without question two minutes later and met the same fate, with almost all the men cut down by heavy rifle and machine gun fire before they got half way to the Ottoman trench. This was the ultimate tragedy of the Nek, that the attack was not halted after the first wave when it was clear that it was futile.
A simultaneous attack by the 2nd Light Horse Regiment (1st Light Horse Brigade) at Quinn's Post against the Ottoman trench system known as "The Chessboard" was abandoned after 49 out of the 50 men in the first wave became casualties. In this case, the regiment's commander had not gone in the first wave and so was able to make the decision to cancel.
Lieutenant Colonel Noel Brazier, commander of the 10th Light Horse Regiment, attempted to have the third wave cancelled, claiming that "the whole thing was nothing but bloody murder". He was unable to find Colonel Hughes, and unable to persuade the Brigade Major, Colonel John Antill (who believed the reports that marker flags had been sighted). This report of marker flags was subsequently confirmed in a Turkish article published after the war, where it was stated by the author who had been at the Nek that a couple of men with a marker flag made it to the Ottoman trench before being quickly killed. In that time they were able to raise the flag.
Colonel Antill had not checked the scene to establish if it was of any purpose to send the next wave, and issued the order for the third wave to proceed. The third wave "hopped the bags" and the assault came to a quick end as before. On this assault, many men launched themselves out of the trenches and tried to dive for cover, having performed their duty to attack, but having no ambition to commit mindless suicide by attacking clearly impenetrable defences.
This explains the lower casualty rate for the 10th Light Horse Regiment. Finally, Hughes called off the attack, but confusion in the right area of the fire trench, due to an officer not being told of the cancellation, led to around 75 to 80 men of the fourth wave going over, and they too were cut down in less than a minute. By 4:45 a.m., the ridge was covered with fresh dead and wounded Australian soldiers, most of whom remained where they fell for the duration of the campaign.
The landing at Suvla Bay was an amphibious landing made at Suvla on the Aegean coast of Gallipoli peninsula in the Ottoman Empire as part of the August Offensive, the final British attempt to break the deadlock of the Battle of Gallipoli. The landing, which commenced on the night of 6 August 1915, was intended to support a breakout from the Anzac sector, five miles (8 km) to the south.
Despite facing light opposition, the landing at Suvla was mismanaged from the outset and quickly reached the same stalemate conditions that prevailed on the Anzac and Helles fronts. On 15 August, after a week of indecision and inactivity, the British commander at Suvla, Lieutenant-General Sir Frederick Stopford was dismissed. His performance in command was one of the most incompetent feats of generalship of the First World War.
The offensive was to open on 6 August 1915 with diversions at Helles (the Battle of Krithia Vineyard) and Anzac (the Battle of Lone Pine). The landing at Suvla was to commence at 10:00 pm, an hour after the two assaulting columns had broken out of Anzac heading for the Sari Bair heights.
The original plan at Suvla was to put the 11th Division ashore south of Nibrunesi Point, the southern headland of the bay, as it was not considered safe to land in the dark within the bay itself where there were uncharted shoals. The 30th and 31st Brigades of the 10th Division would land the following morning. The objective of IX Corps was to seize the ring of hills that surrounded the Suvla plain; Kiretch Tepe to the north along the Gulf of Saros, Tekke Tepe to the east and the Anafarta Spur to the south-east.
When Stopford was first shown the plan on 22 July he declared, "It is a good plan. I am sure it will succeed and I congratulate whoever has been responsible for framing it." Stopford's chief-of-staff, Brigadier General Hamilton Reed was not so supportive and his doubts and prejudices succeeded in swaying Stopford. Reed was an artillery officer who had won the Victoria Cross during the Boer War. Having served on the Western Front, he believed no assault on entrenched positions could be made without artillery support. Reconnaissance had revealed no prepared fortifications at Suvla and yet Stopford proceeded to limit the objectives of the landing and Hamilton failed to stop him.
The final orders issued by Stopford and the 11th Division commander, Major General Frederick Hammersley, were imprecise, requiring only that the high ground be taken "if possible".
Stopford and Reed also wanted the 34th Brigade of the 11th Division to be landed within Suvla Bay itself. Unlike the April landings, IX Corps was supplied with purpose-built landing craft known as "Beetles" which were armoured and self-propelled. This fleet of landing craft was commanded by Commander Edward Unwin who had captained the SS River Clyde during the April landing on V Beach at Cape Helles.
The Battle of Hill 60 was the last major assault of the Gallipoli Campaign. It was launched on 21 August 1915 to coincide with the attack on Scimitar Hill made from the Suvla front by General Frederick Stopford's British IX Corps. Hill 60 was a low knoll at the northern end of the Sari Bair range which dominated the Suvla landing. Capturing this hill along with Scimitar Hill would have allowed the Anzac and Suvla landings to be securely linked.
Two major attacks were made by Allied forces, the first on 21 August and the second on 27 August. The first assault resulted in limited gains around the lower parts of the hill, but the Ottoman defenders managed to hold the heights even after the attack was continued by a fresh Australian battalion on 22 August.
Reinforcements were committed, but nevertheless the second major assault on 27 August faired similarly, and although fighting around the summit continued over the course of three days, at the end of the battle the Ottoman forces remained in possession of the summit.
Hill 60 (Kaiajik Aghala) commanded the low ground occupied by a thin line of outposts between the Allied forces at Anzac and Suvla. The hill was to be taken as part of an attack that stretched over a two-mile front from Hill 60 through Hetman Chair, Hill 70 and Oglu Tepe.
The initial attacking force was based on troops allocated to Major-General Herbert Cox by Lieutenant-General William Birdwood:
The initial plan allocated the primary objective of Hill 60 to the New Zealand Mounted Rifles (NZMR). To their left, the Connaught Rangers were to take the water wells at Kabak Kuyu and the Gurkhas the wells at Susak Kuyu. To the right of the NZMR, troops of the Australian 4th Infantry Brigade (4 Aust) supported by the 10th Hampshires were to launch a feint attack, on the spur just above the knoll itself, to draw off Turkish reserves.
The attack on Hill 60 was the last offensive action undertaken around Anzac by the Allies prior to the evacuation in December 1915.
Historian Chris Coulthard-Clark describes the battle as a series of "...badly handled attacks which resulted in costly and confused fighting". The Allies were ultimately unsuccessful in capturing the hill's summit, although according to Brad Manera, the attack gained some advantage for the Allies, stating that by capturing the "seaward slopes, the Anzac flank was secured and the link with Suvla opened".
Nevertheless, it proved costly with the Allies suffering over 1,100 casualties; the Australian 18th Battalion alone was reduced to one third of its original strength after less than a fortnight of action.
One Australian, Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell of the 10th Light Horse, received the Victoria Cross for his actions during the battle.
General Ian Hamilton, the overall Allied commander, recorded on 29 August that "this evening we were all in good form owing to the news from Anzac. Knoll 60, now ours throughout, commands the Biyuk Anafarta valley with view and fire —a big tactical scoop." This was based on a report from Birdwood who mistakenly believed that the knoll itself had been taken whereas, in reality, the Turks still occupied half of Hill 60.
Turkish artillerymen stand alongside a twelve-inch gun on Hill 60. One of a series of photographs taken by Lieutenant William James of the Australian War Records Section. 1919.
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Australia
India
Newfoundland
United Kingdom
The 32nd and 33rd Brigades of the 11th Division began to come ashore at "B Beach" south of Nibrunesi Point shortly before 10 pm. In the first action fought by a New Army unit, two companies from the 6th Battalion, The Yorkshire Regiment, drove the Ottoman defenders off the small hillock of Lala Baba which overlooked the beach. It was an inauspicious start; all but two of the Yorkshires' officers became casualties as did one third of the men.
Shortly afterwards the 34th Brigade attempted to land at "A Beach" within Suvla Bay but the landing went awry from the start. The destroyers conveying the brigade anchored 1,000 yards (910 m) too far south, facing shoal water and on the wrong side of the channel that drained the salt lake into the bay.
Two lighters grounded on reefs and the men had to wade ashore submerged up to their necks. The 9th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers waded ashore in darkness and were pinned down between the beach and the salt lake by sniper fire and shelling. The CO was shot in the head around dawn and 9th Battalion lost 6 other officers killed and 7 wounded
. The 11th Battalion, The Manchester Regiment, having come ashore from the destroyer HMS Grampus, had the greatest success of the landing, managing to find its way to the Kiretch Tepe ridge and fight its way some distance along it to the east for the loss of 200 casualties.
Elsewhere the landing was in chaos, having been made in pitch darkness which resulted in great confusion with units becoming mixed and officers unable to locate their position or their objectives. Later, when the moon rose, the British troops became targets for Ottoman snipers.
Attempts to capture Hill 10 failed because no one in the field knew where Hill 10 was. Shortly after dawn it was found and taken, the Ottoman rearguard having withdrawn during the night.
Stopford had chosen to command the landing from the sloop HMS Jonquil but as the landing was in progress, he went to sleep. The first news he received was when Commander Unwin came aboard at 4 am on 7 August to discourage further landings in Suvla Bay.
British war correspondent Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett witnessed the landing shortly after dawn from the transport Minneapolis. While he could hear the fighting continuing at Anzac, Suvla was comparatively quiet and "no firm hand appeared to control this mass of men suddenly dumped on an unknown shore."
The British official history, written by Captain Cecil Aspinall-Oglander who was on Hamilton's staff, was blunt in its assessment; "It was now broad daylight and the situation in Suvla Bay was verging on chaos."
The sole Australian unit at Suvla, the Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train, landed early in the first day, but was left without orders until late in the afternoon, when they were set to building piers to receive the men and supplies of the later stages of the landing.
Progress on 7 August was minimal. The two brigades of the 10th Division came ashore, adding to the confusion. In the heat of the day, the soldiers became desperate for drinking water. Towards evening two hills east of the salt lake were captured; these represented the sole gains for the first day ashore at Suvla. IX Corps had suffered 1,700 casualties in the first 24 hours, a figure exceeding the total size of Willmer's detachment. At 7 pm, Willmer was able to report to Von Sanders:
Stopford did not go ashore from the Jonquil on 7 August. By the end of the day, the chain of command had completely broken down.
Feizi Bey's troops began to arrive, as expected by the British, on the evening of 8 August. Von Sanders wanted to attack immediately but Feizi Bey objected, saying that the men were exhausted and without artillery support, so Von Sanders dismissed him. In his place he put Mustafa Kemal, the commander of the Ottoman 19th Division, which had been fighting at Chunuk Bair. Kemal assumed authority over the "Anafarta section" which spanned from Suvla south to Chunuk Bair.
Kemal, who had proved aggressive and capable at ANZAC, held the high ground and was content to remain on the defensive at Suvla while he dealt with the threat to the Sari Bair ridge. The intensity of the fighting escalated at Suvla on 9 August but the opportunity for the British to make a swift advance had now disappeared. Around midday the gunfire set scrub alight on Scimitar Hill, and Ashmead-Bartlett, watching from Lala Baba, saw the British wounded trying to escape the flames:
Hamilton finally cabled Kitchener that the IX Corps generals were "unfit" for command. Kitchener swiftly replied on 14 August, saying:
Before receiving a response, Kitchener made Lieutenant-General Julian Byng available to command IX Corps. On 15 August Hamilton dismissed Stopford and, while Byng was travelling from France, replaced him with Major-General Beauvoir De Lisle, commander of the British 29th Division at Helles. Hammersley was also dismissed but Hamilton intended to retain Mahon in command of the 10th Division.
However, Mahon was incensed that de Lisle, whom he disliked, was appointed above him and quit, saying "I respectfully decline to waive my seniority and to serve under the officer you name." He abandoned his division while it was in the thick of the fighting on Kiretch Tepe. The commander of the 53rd Division, Major-General John Lindley, voluntarily resigned.
General Stopford is blamed for the failure of the Suvla operation but responsibility ultimately lay with Lord Kitchener who, as Secretary of State for War, had appointed the elderly and inexperienced general to an active corps command, and with Sir Ian Hamilton who accepted Stopford's appointment and then failed to impose his will on his subordinate. On 13 August Hamilton had written in his diary,
"Ought I have resigned sooner than allow generals old and inexperienced to be foisted up on me." By then it was too late and Stopford's departure contributed to Hamilton's downfall which came on 15 October when he was sacked as the commander of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force.
Under General de Lisle's command, the Suvla front was reorganised and reinforced with the arrival of the 29th Division from Helles and the 2nd Mounted Division from Egypt (minus their horses). The fighting climaxed on 21 August with the Battle of Scimitar Hill, the largest battle of the Gallipoli campaign.
When it too failed, activity at Suvla subsided into sporadic fighting until it was evacuated by the British in late December. Conditions during the summer had been appalling because of heat, flies, and lack of sanitation.
On 15 November there was a deluge of rain and again on 26/27 November a major rainstorm flooded trenches up to 4 feet deep. This was succeeded by a blizzard of snow and two nights of heavy frost.
At Suvla, 220 men drowned or froze to death and there were 12,000 cases of frostbite or exposure. In surprising contrast to the campaign itself, the withdrawals from Gallipoli were well planned and executed, with many successful deceptions to prevent the Turks realising that withdrawals were taking place, minimal losses, and many guns and other equipment also taken off.
*West Beach end of the completed sunken road and rail line at Suvla Bay which was constructed by the 1st Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train
The young Newfoundlanders had arrived hoping for action and excitement but they were soon disappointed. They spent the first months digging trenches and keeping long night watches, spending time on the front line learning trench warfare techniques from the ANZAC and British forces that had been fighting there for months.
Conditions were bad. Enemy fire and life in the trenches made the situation miserable for the Newfoundlanders. Even getting enough to drink was difficult; sometimes soldiers had to get by on less than a cup of water a day. The weather was harsh and unpredictable. The heat brought swarms of flies that helped spread diseases like dysentery which hit the Newfoundlanders hard. It could also be surprisingly cold as it was the worst winter in the region in four decades.
Weeks of heavy rains and wind battered the soldiers, turning trenches into flooded ditches. When the rains finally stopped, the weather turned very cold and caused many cases of frostbite. Despite the difficult conditions, the Newfoundlanders persevered and earned their first battle honour when they captured Caribou Hill (a high point used by Turkish snipers) in November, with three men earning medals for their bravery in the fighting.
The lack of a military breakthrough convinced the Allies it was time to withdraw from Gallipoli. It was decided the Newfoundland Regiment would help in the difficult task of covering the evacuation of Allied troops onto waiting ships. This rearguard operation went well and the Newfoundlanders were among the last Allied soldiers to leave Turkey in January 1916.
During the almost four months the Newfoundland Regiment fought at Gallipoli, approximately 30 men died in action and 10 more died of disease. The hardships and death they experienced were a taste of the even harsher experiences that were waiting when they were shifted to Europe’s Western Front in April 1916. By war’s end, more than 6,200 men had served in the regiment. The price was high, however—more than 1,300 died and many returned home with injuries to body and mind that lasted a lifetime. The loss of so many of its finest young citizens and the toll taken on the survivors was a heavy burden that Newfoundland had to bear for decades.
http://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/remembrance/history/first-world-war/fact_sheets/gallipoli
Such were the demands for men intended for Salonika that forces were diverted away from Hamilton in Gallipoli, to the latter's great dismay. As it was Hamilton was facing increasing criticism from London as grim news of the expedition reached home, along with complaints of his mismanagement of the campaign (from the Australian journalist Keith Murdoch among others).
Evacuation
Thus with the possibility of further reinforcements to the region seemingly ruled out, Hamilton received word on 11 October 1915 of a proposal to evacuate the peninsula. He responded in anger by estimating that casualties of such an evacuation would run at up to 50%: a startlingly high figure.
The tide was clearly moving against Hamilton. His belief in what was widely viewed as an unacceptable casualty rate in the event of evacuation resulted in his removal as Commander-in-Chief and recall to London at a meeting of the Dardanelles Committee on 14 October.
Hamilton was replaced by Sir Charles Monro. Monro lost no time in touring Helles, Suvla Bay and Anzac Cove upon his arrival on the peninsula on 28 October. His recommendation was prompt: evacuation. This did not however meet with Kitchener's approval. He travelled to the region to see the state of affairs for himself.
Upon his arrival however he quickly reversed his thinking upon seeing the conditions facing the Allied force and recommended evacuation on 15 November 1915, overriding arguments by senior naval figures Sir Roger Keyes and Rosslyn Wemyss to attempt a naval seizure once again.
The British government, having prevaricated for several weeks, finally sanctioned an evacuation on 7 December. Unfortunately by this stage a heavy blizzard had set in making such an operation hazardous.
Nevertheless the evacuation of 105,000 men and 300 guns from Anzac Cove and Suvla Bay was successfully conducted from 10-20 December 1915.
The evacuation of Helles was conducted - comprising 35,000 men - from late December until 9 January 1916.
The evacuation operation was easily the most successful element of the entire campaign, with casualty figures significantly lower than Hamilton had predicted (official figures quote just three casualties).
Painstaking efforts had been made to deceive the 100,000 watching Turkish troops into believing that the movement of Allied forces did not constitute a withdrawal.
Winston Churchill however viewed Monro's achievement with a somewhat jaundiced eye: "he came, he saw, he capitulated" he wrote of Monro, and the sneer has remained through the years to blight Monro's correct decision and remarkable follow-through.
Casualties
480,000 Allied troops had participated in the Gallipoli campaign which comprised the Turkish Army's most significant success of the war. Of this figure 252,000 suffered casualties (of these 48,000 were fatalities). One-third of the 33,600 Anzac casualties comprised fatalities.
Turkish casualties have been estimated at 250,000, of which at least 65,000 are believed to be fatalities.
Eventual Access to the Narrows
Following the evacuation the Allies continued to block Mediterranean access to the Dardanelles Straits until Turkey's collapse and exit from the war at the end of October 1918.
With Turkey's defeat the British and French lost little time in assembling a sizeable fleet which duly re-entered the Straits in some ceremony and finally sailed into the Narrows en route to Constantinople.
On 23rd December 1915 a question was asked in Parliament whether any of the commanders at Suvla who had been dismissed could be named.
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What were the conditions at Gallipoli like?
Of all the varied parts of the world where British and Commonwealth forces were deployed during the First World War, Gallipoli was remembered by its veterans as one of the worst places to serve.
It was the scene of some of the fiercest fighting of the war. Allied troops landed there in April 1915 and spent months on the small peninsula of land guarding the Dardanelles Straits in modern-day Turkey. The military aims of the campaign were not achieved and it was eventually called to a halt; the final Allied troops were evacuated in January 1916.
There were heavy casualties, not only from the fighting, but from the extremely unsanitary conditions. Of the estimated 213,000 British casualties, 145,000 were from illness. Surviving combatants also recalled the terrible problems with intense heat, swarms of flies, body lice, severe lack of water and insufficient supplies.
1. Fly swarms
The hot climate, putrefying bodies and unsanitary conditions led to huge swarms of flies at Gallipoli, which made life almost unbearable for the men there. The flies plagued them all the time, covering any food they opened and making it impossible to eat anything without swallowing some of the insects with it. As Gallipoli veteran Stanley Parker Bird said: ‘There were colossal swarms of these pests which had bred in the dead bodies not buried in no man’s land, where it was impossible to recover them without incurring fresh casualties.’ (IWM SR 7375)
2. Unappetising food
The food supplied to the men at Gallipoli was a source of much complaint. Hard biscuits, unappetising jam and tinned bully beef was the staple diet and many became fed up with its limited range. The rations they received were smaller than they'd have liked, too. Henry Barnes of the 4th Australian Brigade remembered several of the men he served with asking General Birdwood – the commander of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps at Gallipoli – for ‘better rations’. He went on to explain that, ‘a little while after that, we had potatoes but as we had no means of cooking and there was nothing organised, they couldn’t be cooked.’ (IWM SR 4008)
3. No water
Fresh water was scarce on the dusty, dry Gallipoli peninsula – particularly at Anzac Cove – and was strictly rationed out. Getting water supplies to the troops was an arduous process. It was brought from abroad by sea and kept in tanks on the coast, then taken up to the trenches by troops or animal transport. The water shortage soon took its toll on men who were already weakened by the harsh climate and living conditions.
4. Extreme weather
The unsanitary conditions at Gallipoli soon led to a widespread infestation of body lice amongst the men. Men scratching at their louse-ridden skin and inspecting the seams of their uniforms for the parasites became a familiar sight. Unable to keep either themselves or their clothes clean, the men became lousy – and it was very difficult to get rid of the lice once they had them.
6. Rotting corpses
Another unpleasant feature of life at Gallipoli was the stench of decaying bodies left out in no man's land. The high casualty rates of the campaign – coupled with the risk of being shot at by snipers if any attempt was made to bring in the dead from out in the open – meant that putrefying corpses were common. These only added to the unhealthy conditions, providing ideal places for flies and disease to thrive.
7. Dysentery epidemic
A particularly debilitating aspect of service at Gallipoli was the widespread presence of illness and disease, especially dysentery. Brought on – and exacerbated by – the unhygienic living conditions, rotting corpses and huge numbers of flies, there was hardly anyone who had not been affected by it by the end of the campaign. It sapped men of their strength, made them and their clothing filthy and resulted in thousands who suffered from it being evacuated off the peninsula.
8. Basic latrines
The toilet facilities at Gallipoli were far from luxurious. Latrines in a war zone are never of a particularly high standard, but the cramped nature of the peninsula, the difficulty of keeping clean, and the widespread dysentery meant those at Gallipoli were in an especially poor state. British NCO William Davies also remembered that the latrines were a target for shells, as the Turks knew that the troops would have to visit them. (IWM SR 8320)
9. Inhospitable terrain
The small Gallipoli peninsula was unsuited for the lengthy campaign that took place there in 1915. The terrain was inhospitable, characterised by rocky ground with little vegetation and hilly land with steep ravines. After initial assaults on Gallipoli in April 1915, the Allied invasion lost its momentum in the face of strong Turkish resistance. Complex trench systems developed as the situation descended into an uneasy siege-like state. In some places, the Turkish and Allied lines were just a few dozen metres apart.
And so they left. The next theatre of war was no better than the hell they had just endured.
During the evacuation of Suvla Bay by Allied forces at the port they use beetle's broad war boats. /Allied evacuation of Gallipoli: Loaded "Beetles" in the harbour at "A" West Beach, Suvla Point.
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He was born in England and lived in St Edmonton.
There was not much sudden death, but there was slow death everywhere. The body was slowly dying from the inside. We talked to each other; we laughed occasionally, but always the thought of death in our minds – our insides were dying slowly.
The water was death; the bully beef was death; everything was death. I was afraid to eat a thing. It terrified me; it made me feel dead. A man would pass me holding his stomach, groaning in agony, and a few minutes later I would take him off the latrine, dead. The men contracted dysentery and fever every day. The bullets did not take a big toll. It was the death of germs.
I worked with my men all day and all night. I was lucky to snatch a few hours’ rest in the middle of the day. The company had now thirty men to hold 200 yards of front. The sentries were posted at incredible distances apart. And for ever the patrols and the fatigues and digging day and night-digging, digging, infernal, intensive digging.
The company had been in the line twenty-five days; it was a record. There was no talk about going out for a rest; there was nowhere to go, only down to the beach, and the beach was shelled incessantly. It was safer in the line.
The food consisted of tea and biscuits. No meat. There was plenty of jam, but if a man was “fed-up” with war all he had to do if he wanted a nice bed on a hospital ship was to eat a tin of jam. Many a tired man looked longingly at the flaming red cross on the side of the hospital ship at night and opened a tin of apricots. They carried him away the next day or the day after.
There were rumours every day – cook-house rumours, latrine rumours, and trench rumours. They were always different. The regiment was doing this to-day and that to-morrow. No soldier will deny the psychological blessing of them. They were the hope of tired men, of fed-up men, and sick men.
They were lovely rumours, always original and timely. Nothing came of them. Dig and dig; patrol and patrol; raid and raid. Above all, over all, hopeful, glorious rumours! The company is going out of the line to-morrow for a month. The company has been ordered to Mesopotamia. The company is going to Egypt for the winter. There were rumours all day and all night.
One morning the captain called me. “Our trenches must be deepened three feet,” he told me. Why, God only knew. They were quite deep enough if a man went about at the stoop. Three feet deeper, and only twenty-five men left in the company to do the work. “Three days to do it, sergeant; and see it is done; don’t care how.” It was done.
A few days later there was an incredible rumour. The General Staff would pass along our trench at noon. The men had to scrape off the mud with jack knives; they were given a pint of water to shave and, God above, their buttons had to be polished. The joke of the deepening of the front line trench was now obvious. The war must be made safe for the generals.
At noon the order was passed along to “Stand at attention.” We did, and Lord Kitchener passed and his general’s cap was just six inches below the parapet. There were a number of Staff officers following him, and as they passed around the traverse of the trench their footsteps seemed to echo: “It’s hopeless! It’s hopeless!”
The next morning the company officer called me into his dug-out. He was a hard drinker and a brave officer. “There are rumours of an evacuation, sergeant,” he said. “Kitchener does not like the look of it for the winter; but there is nothing official. Perhaps we shall have good news to-night.”
I smiled as I went back to my trench. When did the British Army ever retire? It was impossible. Here for ever. Flies in a spider web – million to one against ever getting out. Evacuation, no! I was sorry for those sick men who would believe the story. There would be more raised hopes, more denials, and more silly talk. However, the impossible did happen. It was to be in ten days, the captain told me. Ten days, and the regiment would go to Egypt, the captain said – perhaps Cairo, certainly Alexandria. It was not a bad war after all!
The remaining days were full of feverish activity. Small mines were sunk; bully beef tins were filled with explosives and scores of rifles with time fuses were stuck about the trenches. I worked like a galley slave all day and all night.
The British Army was going to leave the ghastly place and outwit the Allahs on the opposite hill. Yes, the British Army would sneak away in the night under the cover of darkness. What a story to tell my grandchildren! “Once upon a time, my young hearers, I fought in the rear-guard action when my regiment ran away from Johnny Turk at Gallipoli.”
The days passed with the usual routine work. There were only fifteen men now to carry on, and there were still three days before the evacuation. Three days! Would I get away safely? The web was drawing closer around me, around the company, around every man left at Suvla Bay. What if the Turks suspected?
The preparations were completed. I was detailed to fight the rear-guard action with five other men. I should do something to win the War. There was a conference in the company officer’s dug-out to talk over the latest plans. In twenty-four hours, with a bit of luck, I should be sailing down the coast in a destroyer.
I went back to the trench and made up a bed on the firestep. I lay down and pulled a blanket over my shoulders and closed my eyes. A pain shot through my belly, a terrible biting pain. My whole body ached and ached; but tomorrow it would be good-bye to Gallipoli for ever. I slept, a sleep of pain, incessant pain.
“Stand to! Stand to!” Someone poked me in the ribs with a rifle butt. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I tightened my belt and felt for my rifle. I stood on the fire-step and peered through the dim light out over No Man’s Land. I felt a throb in my head; a rush of blood through my body. Darkness… black… black… darkness.
I was warm and snug. I woke up and looked around me. Where was I? In hospital – a whitewashed room with many beds. I did not ask any questions; I was still and quiet. I wished I would feel so warm and peaceful throughout eternity.
A young nurse came to my bed: “Sister! Sister! No.10 has come round!” She smiled at me, a lovely smile. “Nurse, where am I?” “Malta,” she answered, and she mentioned the place as if it were only a few hundred yards off W. Beach, Suvla Bay.
“Malta! ” I mused. “Not Egypt. What happened? The evacuation?…”
I slept again. When I awoke I took more interest in the ward and the beds around me. A patient in the next bed was reading a London newspaper. I saw the headline: “Suvla Bay Successfully Evacuated”.
- See more at: http://alphahistory.com/worldwar1/canadian-soldier-at-gallipoli/#sthash.f20vJw1U.dpuf
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Jack was a young man from New Zealand. He did what all the others did at that time, he signed his name on the papers, and off he went for a great adventure.
And he did, until this article was discovered while researching.
My personal opinion, that those who brought in this barbaric rule should have been charged as well.
Thank goodness that Australians were never tried to be executed for getting sick!!
But all stories need to be researched, and his biography is held with the New Zealand Archives, but there is not one word about this trial and the consequences.
Private Jack Dunn, Wellington Battalion (bare-headed, lower left), hears his death sentence read out in front of his unit, Quinn’s Post, 18 July 1915.* Dunn had been on the peninsula since the landing on 25 April 1915.
He had only recently returned from hospital after contracting dysentery. In mid-July, after having earlier reported sick, Dunn fell asleep on sentry duty. He was court martialled and sentenced to death for endangering the safety of his unit. General Sir Ian Hamilton rescinded his sentence on 5 August 1915. Three days later, Dunn died on Chunuk Bair.
*Sources vary as to the date this photo was taken. Some say 18 July – the day of the court martial. Other sources suggest 5 August - after the sentence was remitted - as it was not policy to inform soldiers charged with serious offences of their penalty until it was confirmed (by Hamilton, in this case).
From the Archives
Rank Private
Roll title 17th (Ruahine) Company, Wellington Infantry Battalion, NZEF
Courtesy of Wairarapa Archive 05-39/P-J-34-1.R14B9S4
John Robert Dunn, known as Jack, was born in the small town of Tinui in the rural province of Wairarapa to Matthew and Sarah Dunn on 22 November 1888. His parents were recent immigrants to New Zealand from Glasgow, Scotland. Several of Dunn’s brothers and sisters were born overseas, and it appears that two of the boys, Robert and John, died on the long sea voyage and were buried at sea.
Dunn was raised as a Roman Catholic and grew up in the Wairarapa community of Whakataki, near Castlepoint, where he attended the local school with his older brother Matthew.
Dunn began his career at the Wairarapa Daily Times, based in Masterton, and by 1911 was the sub-editor. In August 1912 he took up a position at the New Zealand Times in Wellington, but by August 1914, when the war broke out, the 25-year-old Dunn was back in Masterton, listing his current employer as the Wairarapa Daily Times.
As well as a being talented journalist, Dunn served for several years in the Masterton Rifle Cadets. He was a keen amateur sportsman, and competed in many athletic events in the Wairarapa region through the Wairarapa Amateur Athletics Club and the Masterton Harrier (or cross country running) Club.
Perhaps spurred on by journalistic curiosity, Dunn enlisted in the NZEF on 11 August 1914, just days after New Zealand’s declaration of war against Germany. He was assigned to the 17th (Ruahine) Company of the Wellington Infantry Battalion with the rank of private, and was sent to Awapuni racecourse in Palmerston North, where the four companies of the Wellington Infantry Battalion (also known as the Wellington Regiment) were gathering to begin their training. The official history of the Wellington Regiment records:
The training, like all training in camps throughout the War, consisted largely of physical exercises and route marching to get the men fit and hard, with a little musketry and steady drill, to get cohesion in the unit. There are two training days which deserve special mention, not, perhaps, for the training performed, but for happy recollections.
The first was a route march to Feilding, where the troops were the guests of the people of Feilding, and were entertained on arrival at the racecourse. The Feilding ladies had gone to great trouble to provide delicacies for the troops, many of whom were recruited from the Feilding district.
The troops bivouaced for the night at the racecourse, and marched early the next morning on the return journey to Palmerston North. Here a public welcome was accorded them in the Square.
Soldiers embarking on HMNZT Arawa in Wellington Harbour.
Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa / O.040523
The Wellington Infantry Battalion travelled to Wellington on 22 September 1914 to join the rest of the NZEF. The battalion was split for the planned voyage and the Ruahines were assigned to HMNZT Arawa. There was a large parade for the departing soldiers on 23 September, attended by the Governor, the Prime Minister, the Minister of Defence and the Mayor of Wellington. However, the soldiers did not leave Wellington for another few weeks.
While their armed naval escort awaited further reinforcements, the infantry remained in their onboard quarters and continued their training regime around Wellington. The official history of the Wellington Regiment details:
In order to waste no time, rigorous training was the order of the day. The Regiment marched, manoeuvred and fought in miniature battles over the rugged hills on the out-skirts of Wellington, a not unfitting preparation for the fighting, soon to be our lot on the steep slopes of Gallipoli.
HMS Minotaur and the Japanese battleship Ibuki arrived in Wellington Harbour on 15 October, and the New Zealand Main Body prepared to depart the following day.
On 16 October 1914, Dunn embarked from New Zealand aboard Arawa. This ship was the third largest in New Zealand’s Main Body. It carried the majority of the Wellington Infantry Battalion, the Wellington Mounted Rifles Regiment, the Signal Troop and part of the Field Artillery Brigade from Wellington to Egypt - a total of 1,259 men, 59 officers and 215 horses.
Dunn’s brother Matthew, a trooper with the Wellington Mounted Rifles, probably also travelled onboard this ship.
After five days at sea, the Main Body reached Hobart, Tasmania, where the Wellington Infantry Battalion disembarked for a route march. The Wellington Regiment’s official history states:
It was an intensely hot day; but it was a relief to be ashore. The inhabitants received us with open arms. At the halts on the march, doors of houses were opened and the inhabitants, young and old alike, brought out jugs of refreshing drinks, and cakes and fruit, and handed them round to the perspiring troops.
They picked flowers, making bouquets for the men. All ranks returned to the ships greatly cheered by their run ashore, and with feelings of gratitude for Hobart and its inhabitants. The fleet sailed from Hobart on the 23rd October, but not before a great many cases of apples had been shipped for issue to the troops.
The convoy arrived in King George Sound on 28 October, where they met the 26 Australian troop transport ships. Together the New Zealand and Australian ships departed from Albany on 1 November 1914. Ships from Fremantle joined the convoy at sea shortly after.
On 9 November 1914, the wireless operator aboard HMNZT Arawa picked up a faint signal coming from an unknown warship in the Cocos Islands. A battleship from the convoy’s escort, HMAS Sydney, was sent to investigate, and intercepted the SMS Emden, a German raider, which had been stalking allied vessels throughout the Pacific and South East Asia. The event caused great excitement among the soldiers. An extract from The New Zealanders at Gallipoli reads:
At twenty minutes past eleven the wireless announced. ‘Enemy beached herself to prevent sinking.’ Restraint was thrown aside. The men cheered again and again. Messages then chased one another in quick succession: ‘Emden beached and done for. Am chasing merchant collier.’ The cheering burst out afresh, for this was the first mention of the ‘Emden’. How the New Zealanders envied the Australians this momentous achievement of their young navy.
The Arawa passed the equator on 13 November 1914. As with every other transport ship, the men aboard participated in a ‘Crossing the Line’ ceremony. Unfortunately this day was marred by a serious accident. Captain E J H Webb, a doctor from the New Zealand Medical Corps, hit his head when diving into ‘Neptune’s Pond’, which had been set up on the deck. He was taken to hospital when the ship reached Colombo but died a few days later.
The men aboard the Arawa liked to claim the distinction of being the first New Zealand troops to come under fire. When the ship reached the port of Aden it failed to drop anchor in the correct area, earning itself a shot across its bows.
When the convoy reached Suez on 30 November, they received word that they were to disembark in Egypt and not carry on to France as had been expected.
The Arawa arrived at Alexandria, Egypt, on 3 December 1914. Dunn’s 17th (Ruahine) Company, along with the West Coast Company of the Wellington Infantry Battalion, departed Alexandria by train bound for Cairo. There were no transport vehicles to meet them at Helmieh Station, so they had to march with their full kit to the site of what was to become Zeitoun Camp, arriving late in the evening.
After arriving in Egypt, the New Zealanders spent several months in training. Dunn’s commanding officer for the Wellington Infantry Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel William Malone, was known for his strict disciplinarian attitude towards this training regime. The routine is described in the official history:
Training now began in real earnest. Every morning before breakfast ‘physical jerks’; and, at 8 am, the battalion paraded, carrying lunch in haversacks, and the day was spent in training. Full packs were always carried on the march, and across the desert the going was heavy and dusty. The training grounds were usually selected at a distance three or four miles from the camp, so as to ensure a certain amount of marching every day.
Although the nights were invariably cold and the early mornings raw and misty, the sun shone from a cloudless sky throughout the day, and tunics were soon discarded. Training was never interfered with by the weather and, in fixing training schemes, weather contingencies were not considered.
On 25 January 1915, the New Zealand forces relocated to the Suez Canal area to join a garrison of Indian soldiers in the defence of this strategic asset. An Ottoman column was reportedly massing to attack the canal, but no significant battle ensued. The New Zealanders spent a relatively uneventful month in the canal area. The Wellington Infantry Battalion left the Suez garrison on 26 February, returning to Zeitoun Camp and the monotony of their daily training regime.
And that is it! Followed by some comments from his mates.
But a little further on:
Dunn gave his life while fighting for the NZEF at Chunuk Bair. The tiny rural Wairarapa community of Tinui, where Dunn was born, chose to commemorate his war service when constructing their memorial in 1924. His name is listed, without ignominy or distinction, alongside the names of all other local men who died while fighting for New Zealand in the First World War. Dunn’s sacrifice is also commemorated by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, alongside 849 other New Zealand soldiers with no known graves whose names are listed on The New Zealand Memorial to the Missing on Chunuk Bair.
Nonetheless, the guilty verdict of his court-martial sentence has never been revoked. Several members of the extended Dunn family have explored the details of his short life. This includes the artist Pat White, who created an exhibition based on Dunn’s story through the Wairarapa Museum of Art and History, and published an accompanying catalogue, Gallipoli: in search of a family story.
Wairarapa Archive in Masterton, the town where Dunn lived just prior to the outbreak of the war, has done considerable research into his life and military service. They aim to encourage debate and understanding of the circumstances surrounding Dunn’s court martial and premature death.
Towards this end, the archive has made Dunn one of the key figures in their community engagement programs with local school children studying the First World War. They have also developed an exhibition about local servicemen for the centenary of the war that includes a section on Jack and Matthew Dunn.
But a little more research, and a bit more of his story:
Sunday 25Apr1915 5.30pm landed on beach at Gallipoli and could see the dead and wounded lying on the beach from a previous attack by the Anzacs;
27Apr1915 at Quinn's Post Dunn's unit made their way up a very steep hill under heavy fire, assisted by Infantry, several of their men were killed and the machine gun jammed on numerous occasions;
14May1915 his brother Matt, also a machine gunner, visited 'Jack' Dunn - Matt was wounded the very next day with shrapnel to his arm;
16May1915 taken by Fleetsweeper Newmarket and admitted to hospital suffering from pneumonia, then taken to Lemnos for specialist treatment;
15Jun1915 returned to duty where his unit was so close to the Turks they could hear them moving around in the trenches and this was where he was on sentry duty.
He had not been relieved, he was still sick and consequently fell asleep after being warned not to and was discovered by an officer - by commentary on the circumstances another soldier was to say 'you are dead on your feet, and at night time when you are standing up you would give your soul for an hour's sleep'.
At a field court-martial Dunn was charged and he pleaded guilty. A sentence of death was laid down.
The judgement was remitted by General Sir Ian Hamilton Commander-in-Chief. There is a photo at the Australian War Memorial that shows Dunn on 5Aug1915 bareheaded and under armed guard and in front of his regiment, the sentence 'to suffer death by being shot' was read out and then remitted due to his previous good conduct and his health.;
8Aug1915 just three days after his reprieve, his unit was part of the attack on Chunuk Bair, initially having success but the Turks, after bitter hand to hand fighting, retook it. Sadly 700 men of the Wellington Bn died that day including John Dunn who was shot through the throat and died instantly; he has no known grave but is commemorated on the Chunuk Bair (New Zealand) Memorial.
John Dunn was one of the twenty-eight New Zealand servicemen who were court-martialled during the First World War. He was the first New Zealander in World War 1 to be sentenced to death by court martial, and the only one at Gallipoli. The guilty verdict of his court-martial sentence has never been revoked.
In the Wairarapa Daily Times, 10 September 1915 it was reported, 'Private "Jack" Dunn, of Masterton, who is reportedly in to-day's casualty list as "believed to be killed" was a very popular resident of the town. He was about 26 years of age, and was a son of Mr M. Dunn, farmer, of Whakataki.
For years past he had followed journalistic pursuits, and was a member of the literary staff of the "Wairarapa Daily Times" when he enlisted in the Main New Zealand Expeditionary Force. Previous to that he had been on the staffs of the "New Zealand Times" and Levin "Chronicle".
In athletic circles Private Dunn was well and favourably known. He was a well-known runner. He had been a member of the Wairarapa Amateur Athletic Club, serving on the management committee of the club, and was secretary of the Masterton Harrier Club at the time he enlisted. He took a keen and active interest in football, and had played for the Red Star Club. He had also played a good deal of cricket and hockey.
The deceased was a very promising journalist, and had a bright career before him. He wrote several interesting letters to the "Wairarapa Daily Times" on the doings of the New Zealand troops at the front, the last appearing in our columns on Wednesday. The news of his death will be received with feelings of deep regret throughout the Wairarapa, and the sympathy of a wide circle of friends will be extended to the relatives in their bereavement.'
RIP Private Jack Dunn - Hopefully your fellow countrymen will fight until your verdict is revoked.
Why shoot those whose lives are a living hell? What affect would it have on those who have to carry out the order? OR those men witnessing it? Nothing is nice in War, this is intolerable.
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The campaign was one of the greatest Ottoman victories during the war and a major Allied failure. In Turkey, it is regarded as a defining moment in the nation's history: a final surge in the defence of the motherland as the Ottoman Empire crumbled.
The struggle formed the basis for the Turkish War of Independence and the declaration of the Republic of Turkey eight years later under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, who first rose to prominence as a commander at Gallipoli. The campaign is often considered as marking the birth of national consciousness in Australia and New Zealand and the date of the landing, 25 April, is known as "Anzac Day" which is the most significant commemoration of military casualties and veterans in those two countries, surpassing Remembrance Day (Armistice Day).
The Gallipoli peninsula forms the northern bank of the Dardanelles, a strait that provides a sea route to what was then the Russian Empire, one of the Allied powers during the war. Intending to secure it, Russia's allies Britain and France launched a naval attack followed by an amphibious landing on the peninsula with the eventual aim of capturing the Ottoman capital of Constantinople (modern-day Istanbul). The naval attack was repelled and, after eight months' fighting, with many casualties on both sides, the land campaign also failed and the invasion force was withdrawn to Egypt.
Have you ever thought how they felt? None of us will, but this song gives a bit of an insight!
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" is a song written by Scottish-born folk singer-songwriter Eric Bogle in 1971. The song describes war as futile and gruesome, while criticising those who seek to glorify it. This is exemplified in the song by the account of a young Australian soldier who is maimed at the Battle of Gallipoli during the First World War.
The song is often praised for its imagery of the devastation at Gallipoli. The protagonist, a swagman before the war, loses his legs in the battle and later notes the death of other veterans with time, as younger generations become apathetic to the veterans and their cause. The song incorporates the melody and a few lines of the lyrics of "Waltzing Matilda" at its conclusion.
Many cover versions of the song have been performed and recorded. Liam Clancy, as part of the duo Makem and Clancy, had a number one hit in Ireland with the song in 1976. In May 2001, the Australasian Performing Right Association, as part of its 75th Anniversary celebrations, named "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" as one of the Top 30 Australian songs of all time
The song is an account of the memories of an old Australian man, who, as a youngster in 1915, had been recruited into the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and sent to the Battle of Gallipoli. For "ten weary weeks," he kept himself alive as "around [him] the corpses piled higher". He recalls "that terrible day" ... "in the hell that they called Suvla Bay [they] were butchered like lambs at the slaughter" ... "in that mad world of blood, death and fire".
Click on the link below and turn the speaker up ............guaranteed goosebumps!
Stretching the Musical Licence -
(Does it really matter? The focus of the song is the message it conveys)
The second verse of the song refers to the amphibious assault by
Australian troops at Suvla Bay. The landing at Suvla was actually
carried out by Irish Soldiers from the 10th Division and British Soldiers from the 11th Division, although Australians were involved in an attempt to break out from the ANZAC
lines and link up with the British. Bogle has said that he included the
reference to Suvla partly because most Australians connect it with
Gallipoli, and partly because it made for an easier rhyme.(Most of the Australian activity at Gallipoli took place around what is now called ANZAC Cove.)
The reference to "tin hats" is anachronistic; they were in fact not issued until 1916 (a year after the Gallipoli campaign).Contemporary photographs of ANZAC soldiers at Gallipoli clearly show them wearing their Australian bush hats.
The narrator claims to have joined the AIF in 1915. However, it is
strongly implied that he is present at the initial landing on 25 April
1915, which would mean he would have left Australia by the end of
October 1914.
http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/20-remarkable-photos-from-gallipoli
Australian War Memorial
Gelibou Images from Turkey
- 3 – Anzac: Reinforcements for the forthcoming offensive begin landing, including the British 13th (Western) Division.
- 6 – Battle of Sari Bair, also known as the August Offensive, commences.
- Helles: Battle of Krithia Vineyard diversion commences with an attack by the 88th Brigade of the British 29th Division.
- Helles: Battle of Krithia Vineyard diversion commences with an attack by the 88th Brigade of the British 29th Division.
- A platoon of the 13th Battalion, 4th Brigade, AIF, awaits an address by its commander Captain Joseph Lee, in the Sphinx Gully, probably prior to the brigade's night march on 6–7 August 1915 to attack Kocitemenepe. [AWM P02536.002]
- New Zealand soldiers resting in a trench during their assault towards Chunuk Bair, 6 August 1915. [National Library of New Zealand, F58131]
The battle for Chunuk Bair began after dark on 6 August 1915. In the late afternoon, before the long columns of men began their march along North Beach to Ocean Beach and then up into the range, the 1st Australian Division mounted its famous attack on the Turkish line at Lone Pine. So strong was this attack that initially the Turkish commanders were of the opinion that a major break-out from Anzac towards the south-east was being attempted. At 9.30 pm, Brigadier General John Monash’s 4th Australian Brigade–the 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th Battalions–left their bivouac positions in Reserve Gully beneath the Sphinx and, with Monash marching in the middle of his brigade, made their way north along a newly constructed road.
The 4th Brigade formed part of the North Assaulting Column, and I had associated with me the famous 29th Indian Brigade … with one battalion of Sikhs and three battalions of Gurkhas. My Brigade was in the lead and at 9.30 pm … my column swept out of Reserve Gully into black darkness for its two mile [3.2 km] march northwards along the beach into enemy territory. It was like walking out on a stormy winter’s night from a warm cosy home into a hail, thunder, and lightning storm. We had not gone half a mile when the black tangle of hills between the beach road and the main thoroughfare became alive with flashes of musketry, and the bursting of shrapnel and star shell, and the yells of the enemy and the cheers of our men as they swept in to drive the enemy from the flanks of our march.
[F M Cutlack (ed), War Letters of General Monash, Sydney, 1934, p.61]
What the men of the 4th Brigade heard on the right flank of their march was the noise of the attack by the New Zealand Mounted Rifles on Turkish positions in the foothills of the range. The Mounted’s task that night was to clear the way for the New Zealand Infantry Brigade who were to take Chunuk Bair by first light on 7 August. That struggle in the dark in the foothills was a brilliant success for the New Zealanders. Charles Bean described it as:
… this magnificent feat of arms, the brilliance of which was never surpassed, if indeed equalled, during the campaign.
[C E W Bean, The Story of Anzac, Sydney, 1924, Vol II, p.576]
Desert Column Forum Pix
alh-research.tripod.com
The Battle of Sari Bair - Artist's Impression, 9/10 August 1915.
- A platoon of the 13th Battalion, 4th Brigade, AIF, awaits an address by its commander Captain Joseph Lee, in the Sphinx Gully, probably prior to the brigade's night march on 6–7 August 1915 to attack Kocitemenepe. [AWM P02536.002]
- New Zealand soldiers resting in a trench during their assault towards Chunuk Bair, 6 August 1915. [National Library of New Zealand, F58131]
The 4th Brigade formed part of the North Assaulting Column, and I had associated with me the famous 29th Indian Brigade … with one battalion of Sikhs and three battalions of Gurkhas. My Brigade was in the lead and at 9.30 pm … my column swept out of Reserve Gully into black darkness for its two mile [3.2 km] march northwards along the beach into enemy territory. It was like walking out on a stormy winter’s night from a warm cosy home into a hail, thunder, and lightning storm. We had not gone half a mile when the black tangle of hills between the beach road and the main thoroughfare became alive with flashes of musketry, and the bursting of shrapnel and star shell, and the yells of the enemy and the cheers of our men as they swept in to drive the enemy from the flanks of our march.What the men of the 4th Brigade heard on the right flank of their march was the noise of the attack by the New Zealand Mounted Rifles on Turkish positions in the foothills of the range. The Mounted’s task that night was to clear the way for the New Zealand Infantry Brigade who were to take Chunuk Bair by first light on 7 August. That struggle in the dark in the foothills was a brilliant success for the New Zealanders. Charles Bean described it as:
[F M Cutlack (ed), War Letters of General Monash, Sydney, 1934, p.61]
… this magnificent feat of arms, the brilliance of which was never surpassed, if indeed equalled, during the campaign.
[C E W Bean, The Story of Anzac, Sydney, 1924, Vol II, p.576]
Desert Column Forum Pix
alh-research.tripod.comThe Battle of Sari Bair - Artist's Impression, 9/10 August 1915.
A trench mortar in action on the Gallipoli Peninsula. The mortars used during the Gallipoli campaign were not nearly so effective as those which the Australians later used in France"
Sick and wounded troops waiting to be
evacuated from Anzac Cove.Gallipoli, 1915.
August 1915
- Anzac: Battle of Lone Pine diversion commences at 6.30 a.m. with the Australian 1st Division capturing Turkish trenches. Fighting continues for six days in which time seven Victoria Crosses are awarded.
- Suvla: At 10.00 p.m. the British 11th (Northern) Division, part of IX Corps, begins landing.
- Anzac: Under cover of darkness, two columns of Anzac, British & Indian troops break out to the north, heading for the heights of Chunuk Bair and Hill 971.
The Battle of Lone Pine (also known as the Battle of Kanlı Sırt) was fought between Australian and Ottoman Empire forces during the First World War between 6 and 10 August 1915. Part of the Gallipoli campaign, the battle was part of a diversionary attack to draw Ottoman attention away from the main assaults against Sari Bair, Chunuk Bair and Hill 971, which became known as the August Offensive.
One of the most famous assaults of the Gallipoli campaign, the Battle of Lone Pine was originally intended as a diversion from attempts by New Zealand and Australian units to force a breakout from the ANZAC perimeter on the heights of Chunuk Bair and Hill 971. The Lone Pine attack, launched by the 1st Brigade AIF in the late afternoon of 6 August 1915 pitched Australian forces against formidable entrenched Turkish positions, sections of which were securely roofed over with pine logs. In some instances the attackers had to break in through the roof of the trench systems in order to engage the defenders. The main Turkish trench was taken within 20 minutes of the initial charge but this was the prelude to 4 days of intense hand-to-hand fighting, resulting in over 2,000 Australian casualties.
The Australians, initially at brigade strength, managed to capture the main Ottoman trench line from the battalion that was defending the position in the first few hours of the fighting; however, the fighting continued for the next three days as the Ottomans brought up reinforcements and launched numerous counterattacks in an attempt to recapture the ground they had lost.
As the counterattacks intensified the Australians brought up two fresh battalions. Finally, on 9 August the Ottomans called off any further attempts and by 10 August offensive action ceased, leaving the Australians in control of the position. Nevertheless, despite the Australian victory, the wider August Offensive of which the attack had been a part failed and a situation of stalemate developed around Lone Pine which lasted until the end of the campaign in December 1915 when Allied troops were evacuated from the peninsula.
In most sources, Ottoman losses are estimated at between 5,000–6,000, although Kenan Celik from Çanakkale Onsekiz Mart University, has placed their losses as high as 7,164, broken down as 1,520 killed, 4,700 wounded, 760 listed as missing and 134 captured by the Australians.
These included the commanding officers of both the 47th and 15th Regiments. Of the Australian force that had launched the attack, almost half became casualties. Australian losses during the battle amounted to 2,277 men killed or wounded, out of the total 4,600 men committed to the fighting over the course of the battle.
The toll was particularly heavy amongst the Australian officers; both the commanding officers of the 2nd and 3rd Battalions were killed leading their troops.
After the battle, the dead were so thick on the ground that one Australian, Captain Harold Jacobs of the 1st Battalion, remarked "[t]he trench is so full of our dead that the only respect that we could show them was not to tread on their faces, the floor of the trench was just one carpet of them, this in addition to the ones we piled into Turkish dugouts." Later, over 1,000 dead were removed from Australian position to be hastily buried
The taking of Lone Pine by Fred Leist, 1921.
Photo: Three unidentified 7th Battalion men standing at a bomb stop at the old Turkish firing line in Lone Pine. Note the pine logs remaining from the original Turkish headcover...
At the end of the battle, there were 2,277 Australian casualties," he said. "Turkish losses are not known but are estimated at perhaps double that. A greater number died in that battle than perhaps are gathered here today to commemorate them."
Australian weapons the day after |
Fighting in the Gallipoli Campaign were approximately 50,000 Australians, 9,000 New Zealanders, 80,000 French and
400,000 British. The campaign was the first major battle
undertaken in the war by Australia and New Zealand troops.
It cost 26,111 Australian casualties, including 8,141
deaths.
In Turkey the battle is also perceived as a defining
moment in the history of the Turkish people.
Small prickly oak trees (now known as the Gallipoli Oak)
grow along the ridges and valleys of the peninsula. Acorns were collected by several
soldiers during the campaign and sent or brought back to Australia where some were
subsequently planted.
August 1915
- 7
- Anzac: Battle of the Nek At 4.30 a.m. another futile diversion virtually wipes out two regiments of the 3rd Light Horse Brigade.
- Suvla: The British 10th (Irish) Division begins landing.
- Helles: Fighting at Krithia Vineyard continues with an attack by the 42nd Division.
- Anzac: After a lengthy delay, the New Zealand Infantry Brigade attempts to capture Chunuk Bair but fails.
The attack at the Nek was meant to coincide with an attack by New Zealand troops from Chunuk Bair, which was to be captured during the night. The light horsemen were to attack across the Nek to Baby 700 while the New Zealanders descended from the rear onto Battleship Hill, the next knoll above Baby 700.
A further part of the Skeen plan required an attack from Steele's Post against German Officers' Trench by the 6th Battalion, 2nd Infantry Brigade of the Australian 1st Division, which failed. The Ottoman machine guns sited there enfiladed the ground in front of Quinn's Post and the Nek. The Ottoman machine gunners did not suffer any casualties as a result. Nonetheless, Major General Sir Alexander Godley, commander of the New Zealand and Australian Division of which the 3rd Light Horse Brigade was then a part, declared that the attack was to proceed.
After the artillery firing ceased, no one knew if the bombardment was to continue. It was later discovered that the synchronisation of watches between the artillery officer and the assault officer was overlooked.
As a result, the attack was not launched at the scheduled time, giving the Ottoman defenders ample time to return to their trenches and prepare for the assault that they now knew was coming. The first wave of 150 men from the 8th Light Horse Regiment, led by their commander, Lieutenant Colonel A.H. White, "hopped the bags" and went over the top. They were met with a hail of machine gun and rifle fire and within 30 seconds, Colonel White and all of his men were gunned down. A few men reached the Ottoman trenches, and marker flags were reportedly seen flying, but they were quickly overwhelmed and shot or bayoneted by the Ottoman defenders.
A simultaneous attack by the 2nd Light Horse Regiment (1st Light Horse Brigade) at Quinn's Post against the Ottoman trench system known as "The Chessboard" was abandoned after 49 out of the 50 men in the first wave became casualties. In this case, the regiment's commander had not gone in the first wave and so was able to make the decision to cancel.
Colonel Antill had not checked the scene to establish if it was of any purpose to send the next wave, and issued the order for the third wave to proceed. The third wave "hopped the bags" and the assault came to a quick end as before. On this assault, many men launched themselves out of the trenches and tried to dive for cover, having performed their duty to attack, but having no ambition to commit mindless suicide by attacking clearly impenetrable defences.
This explains the lower casualty rate for the 10th Light Horse Regiment. Finally, Hughes called off the attack, but confusion in the right area of the fire trench, due to an officer not being told of the cancellation, led to around 75 to 80 men of the fourth wave going over, and they too were cut down in less than a minute. By 4:45 a.m., the ridge was covered with fresh dead and wounded Australian soldiers, most of whom remained where they fell for the duration of the campaign.
The Anzac Walk - Nek Cemetery
A view looking across the Nek in February 1919 taken by Charles Bean's Gallipoli mission photographer, Captain Hubert Wilkins.
August 1915
- 8
- Anzac: Battle of Chunuk Bair Attacking at 3.00 a.m., New Zealand and British infantry gain a foothold on Chunuk Bair.
- Naval operations: British submarine HMS E11 torpedoes the Ottoman battleship Barbaros Hayreddin off Bulair.
- 9 – Anzac: A general attack by the Allies on the heights of Chunuk Bair, Hill Q and Hill 971 fails.
- 10
- Anzac: Battle of Chunuk Bair ends when the Turks, led by Mustafa Kemal, drive the Allies off the heights.
- Suvla: British 53rd (Welsh) Division attacks Scimitar Hill, suffering heavy casualties.
- 12 – Anzac: Battle of Lone Pine ends.
- 13 – Helles: Battle of Krithia Vineyard ends.
Scottish Troops |
The original plan at Suvla was to put the 11th Division ashore south of Nibrunesi Point, the southern headland of the bay, as it was not considered safe to land in the dark within the bay itself where there were uncharted shoals. The 30th and 31st Brigades of the 10th Division would land the following morning. The objective of IX Corps was to seize the ring of hills that surrounded the Suvla plain; Kiretch Tepe to the north along the Gulf of Saros, Tekke Tepe to the east and the Anafarta Spur to the south-east.
When Stopford was first shown the plan on 22 July he declared, "It is a good plan. I am sure it will succeed and I congratulate whoever has been responsible for framing it." Stopford's chief-of-staff, Brigadier General Hamilton Reed was not so supportive and his doubts and prejudices succeeded in swaying Stopford. Reed was an artillery officer who had won the Victoria Cross during the Boer War. Having served on the Western Front, he believed no assault on entrenched positions could be made without artillery support. Reconnaissance had revealed no prepared fortifications at Suvla and yet Stopford proceeded to limit the objectives of the landing and Hamilton failed to stop him.
The final orders issued by Stopford and the 11th Division commander, Major General Frederick Hammersley, were imprecise, requiring only that the high ground be taken "if possible".
August 1915
- 15 – Suvla: General Sir Frederick Stopford is sacked as commander of IX Corps.
- 21 – Final British offensive of the campaign launched to consolidate Anzac and Suvla landings.
- Suvla: Battle of Scimitar Hill IX Corps makes a final attempt to seize Scimitar and W Hills.
- Anzac: Battle of Hill 60 begins.
- 29 – Battle of Hill 60 ends.
Reinforcements were committed, but nevertheless the second major assault on 27 August faired similarly, and although fighting around the summit continued over the course of three days, at the end of the battle the Ottoman forces remained in possession of the summit.
The initial attacking force was based on troops allocated to Major-General Herbert Cox by Lieutenant-General William Birdwood:
- Canterbury Mounted Rifles and the Otago Mounted Rifles of the New Zealand Mounted Rifles Brigade (400 men)
- 13th and 14th Battalions of the Australian 4th Infantry Brigade (500 men),
- 2 Gurkha batallions of the 29th Indian Brigade of the 10th Indian Division,
- 5th Battalion of the Irish Connaught Rangers (700 men), 10th Hampshires (330 men) and 4th South Wales Borderers of the British 29th Division.
The terraces below Quinns Post, one of the most dangerous areas on the Gallipoli peninsula.(E.S. Gibson photograph, Canterbury Museum, 1989.44.1)
Historian Chris Coulthard-Clark describes the battle as a series of "...badly handled attacks which resulted in costly and confused fighting". The Allies were ultimately unsuccessful in capturing the hill's summit, although according to Brad Manera, the attack gained some advantage for the Allies, stating that by capturing the "seaward slopes, the Anzac flank was secured and the link with Suvla opened".
Nevertheless, it proved costly with the Allies suffering over 1,100 casualties; the Australian 18th Battalion alone was reduced to one third of its original strength after less than a fortnight of action.
One Australian, Second Lieutenant Hugo Throssell of the 10th Light Horse, received the Victoria Cross for his actions during the battle.
The result was a stalemate. During November, New Zealand sappers drove a mine under Hill 60 creating a large crater at the summit though the Allies did not occupy it. The Turks later mined the Allied positions. The positions on Hill 60 were mined prior to evacuation on 12 December, which was scheduled for 45 minutes prior to the evacuation of Russell's Top. On the night of 19–20 December, all survivors of the Anzac front were evacuated from Gallipoli
Turkish artillerymen stand alongside a twelve-inch gun on Hill 60. One of a series of photographs taken by Lieutenant William James of the Australian War Records Section. 1919.
Lieutenant Colonel Carew Reynell, 9th Australian Light Horse regiment, near Hill 60, 27 August 1915 picking lice from his clothing, a never ending task
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The Men of the Border Regiment
http://www.thewestmorlandgazette.co.uk
DEPENDING on which historical source you consult, the Gallipoli landings were either a ‘stalemate’, a ‘narrow defeat’ or a ‘disaster’ for Britain and its allies.
But what cannot be argued over is the bravery of the tens of thousands of soldiers who fought valiantly in the attempt to take the strategic Dardanelles peninsula from the Turkish Ottoman empire after it became allied with Germany.
Among them were regulars and volunteers from Westmorland and Cumberland serving in the Border Regiment’s 1st and 6th battalions.
In his 2003 book ‘Glory Is No Compensation’ - an impressive account of the regiment’s role in the Dardanelles campaign - former Border officer Ralph May reveals that 784 officers and men from the two battalions were killed or died from their wounds while fighting in the Turkish peninsula.
In addition, hundreds more were wounded or rendered incapable of fighting due to disease. Mr May, whose father Lieutenant G. C. May fought with the Border Regiment at Gallipoli, describes the regular 1st Battalion as a ‘close-knit, highly trained and disciplined’ body of men.
The 1st landed on the peninsula between the April 25 and 27, 1915 in extremely dangerous conditions, beneath cliffs of considerable height, which were protected by well-armed fortifications.
A day later, the battalion was ordered into what became known as the First Battle of Krithia with the rallying call of a divisional commander ringing in their ears: “The eyes of the world are upon us and your deeds will live in history.”
The words proved to be truly prophetic, for the Gallipoli campaign is remembered nearly a century later as one of the bloodiest campaigns of the First World War. At Krithia, ground was only gained at the expense of large numbers of killed and wounded. Similar attrition was also experienced when the battalion later saw action on the Eski Line, the Battle of Gully Ravine and at Sulva before finally being evacuated in January, 1916.
It was a costly campaign for the Border Regiment - a total of 23 officers and 520 NCOs and other ranks from the 1st Battalion were killed or died of their wounds. At Sulva, the 1st was joined by the 6th (Service) Battalion, one of the ‘New Army’ battalions, which recruited men from the farms, factories and offices throughout Westmorland, Cumberland and central Lancashire.
Mr May writes that, despite their inexperience, the soldiers from the 6th were immediately ‘pitched into the Gallipoli Campaign and the chaos of the Suvla Landings’. By the time the 6th Battalion was evacuated by ship in December, it had lost 17 officers and 224 NCOs and other ranks - either killed in battle or who died later from their wounds.
After Gallipoli, both the 1st and 6th battalions went on to fight on the Western Front in France, where they continued to suffer casualties in the Somme and Flanders’ offensives and fighting bravely in battles such as Albert, Transloy Ridges and Langemarck.
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August 1915
- 10
- Anzac: Battle of Chunuk Bair ends when the Turks, led by Mustafa Kemal, drive the Allies off the heights.
- Suvla: British 53rd (Welsh) Division attacks Scimitar Hill, suffering heavy casualties.
Suvla
This was being planned for early August to coincide with the left hook being planned to break out from Anzac and surge up the valleys and ridges up to overwhelm the Turks on the Sari Bair Ridge. It all seemed to go pretty well as far as Hamilton was concerned.
General Sir Ian Hamilton, Headquarters, MEF - On 22 July Hamilton had his first proper meeting with Lieutenant General Sir Frederick Stopford who had been appointed to command the newly forming IX Corps but was standing in with VIII Corps at Helles. Hamilton was keen to brief Stopford on his new scheme for a landing at Suvla Bay to seize by coup de main the high ground of Tekke Tepe and Kiretch Tepe.
"Had a jolly outing to-day. Left for Cape Helles by trawler just before 10 o'clock. Aspinall, Bertier and young Brodrick came with me. Lunched at 8th Army Corps Headquarters with Stopford and handed him a first outline scheme of the impending operations.
"Had a jolly outing to-day. Left for Cape Helles by trawler just before 10 o'clock. Aspinall, Bertier and young Brodrick came with me. Lunched at 8th Army Corps Headquarters with Stopford and handed him a first outline scheme of the impending operations.
We read it through together and he seems to take all the points and to be in general agreement. Left Aspinall behind to explain any questions of detail which might not seem clear, whilst I went a tour of inspection through the Eski Lines of trenches held by the 6th and 7th Manchesters of the 42nd Division. These Eski Lines were first held about the 7th or 8th May and have since been worked up, mainly by the energy of de Lisle, into fortifications, humanly speaking, impregnable.
General Douglas, Commander of the Division, came round with me. He reminds me greatly of his brother, the late Chief of the Imperial General Staff; excellent at detail; a conscientious, very hard worker. When I had seen my Manchester friends I passed on into the Royal Naval Division Lines.
There General Paris convoyed me through his section as far as Zimmerman's Farm, where I was joined by Bailloud with his Chief of Staff and Chief of Operations. Together we made our way round the whole of the French trenches winding up at de Tott's Battery.
After this whopping walk, we left by pinnace from below de Tott's wondering whether the Asiatic Batteries would think us game worth their powder and shot. They did not and so we safely boarded our trawler at Cape Helles
. Didn't get back to Imbros Harbour till 9 p.m. Being so late, boarded the ever hospitable Triad on chance and struck, as usual - hospitality. Hunter-Weston is really quite ill with fever. He did not want to see anyone.
As we were sitting at dinner I saw him through the half open door staggering along on his way to get into a launch to go aboard a Hospital ship. He is suffering very much from his head. The doctors prophesy that he will pull round in about a week. I hope so indeed, but I have my doubts. Aspinall reports that Stopford is entirely in accord with our project and keen."
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What actually happened at Suvla?
The 32nd and 33rd Brigades of the 11th Division began to come ashore at "B Beach" south of Nibrunesi Point shortly before 10 pm. In the first action fought by a New Army unit, two companies from the 6th Battalion, The Yorkshire Regiment, drove the Ottoman defenders off the small hillock of Lala Baba which overlooked the beach. It was an inauspicious start; all but two of the Yorkshires' officers became casualties as did one third of the men.
Shortly afterwards the 34th Brigade attempted to land at "A Beach" within Suvla Bay but the landing went awry from the start. The destroyers conveying the brigade anchored 1,000 yards (910 m) too far south, facing shoal water and on the wrong side of the channel that drained the salt lake into the bay.
Two lighters grounded on reefs and the men had to wade ashore submerged up to their necks. The 9th Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers waded ashore in darkness and were pinned down between the beach and the salt lake by sniper fire and shelling. The CO was shot in the head around dawn and 9th Battalion lost 6 other officers killed and 7 wounded
. The 11th Battalion, The Manchester Regiment, having come ashore from the destroyer HMS Grampus, had the greatest success of the landing, managing to find its way to the Kiretch Tepe ridge and fight its way some distance along it to the east for the loss of 200 casualties.
Elsewhere the landing was in chaos, having been made in pitch darkness which resulted in great confusion with units becoming mixed and officers unable to locate their position or their objectives. Later, when the moon rose, the British troops became targets for Ottoman snipers.
Attempts to capture Hill 10 failed because no one in the field knew where Hill 10 was. Shortly after dawn it was found and taken, the Ottoman rearguard having withdrawn during the night.
Stopford had chosen to command the landing from the sloop HMS Jonquil but as the landing was in progress, he went to sleep. The first news he received was when Commander Unwin came aboard at 4 am on 7 August to discourage further landings in Suvla Bay.
British war correspondent Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett witnessed the landing shortly after dawn from the transport Minneapolis. While he could hear the fighting continuing at Anzac, Suvla was comparatively quiet and "no firm hand appeared to control this mass of men suddenly dumped on an unknown shore."
The British official history, written by Captain Cecil Aspinall-Oglander who was on Hamilton's staff, was blunt in its assessment; "It was now broad daylight and the situation in Suvla Bay was verging on chaos."
The sole Australian unit at Suvla, the Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train, landed early in the first day, but was left without orders until late in the afternoon, when they were set to building piers to receive the men and supplies of the later stages of the landing.
Progress on 7 August was minimal. The two brigades of the 10th Division came ashore, adding to the confusion. In the heat of the day, the soldiers became desperate for drinking water. Towards evening two hills east of the salt lake were captured; these represented the sole gains for the first day ashore at Suvla. IX Corps had suffered 1,700 casualties in the first 24 hours, a figure exceeding the total size of Willmer's detachment. At 7 pm, Willmer was able to report to Von Sanders:
- "No energetic attacks on the enemy's part have taken place. On the contrary, the enemy is advancing timidly."
Stopford did not go ashore from the Jonquil on 7 August. By the end of the day, the chain of command had completely broken down.
Feizi Bey's troops began to arrive, as expected by the British, on the evening of 8 August. Von Sanders wanted to attack immediately but Feizi Bey objected, saying that the men were exhausted and without artillery support, so Von Sanders dismissed him. In his place he put Mustafa Kemal, the commander of the Ottoman 19th Division, which had been fighting at Chunuk Bair. Kemal assumed authority over the "Anafarta section" which spanned from Suvla south to Chunuk Bair.
Kemal, who had proved aggressive and capable at ANZAC, held the high ground and was content to remain on the defensive at Suvla while he dealt with the threat to the Sari Bair ridge. The intensity of the fighting escalated at Suvla on 9 August but the opportunity for the British to make a swift advance had now disappeared. Around midday the gunfire set scrub alight on Scimitar Hill, and Ashmead-Bartlett, watching from Lala Baba, saw the British wounded trying to escape the flames:
- "I watched the flames approaching and the crawling figures disappear amidst dense clouds of black smoke. When the fire passed on little mounds of scorched khaki alone marked the spot where another mismanaged soldier of the King had returned to mother earth."[citation needed]
Hamilton finally cabled Kitchener that the IX Corps generals were "unfit" for command. Kitchener swiftly replied on 14 August, saying:
- "If you should deem it necessary to replace Stopford, Mahon and Hammersley, have you any competent generals to take their place? From your report I think Stopford should come home. This is a young man's war, and we must have commanding officers that will take full advantage of opportunities which occur but seldom. If, therefore, any generals fail, do not hesitate to act promptly. Any generals I have available I will send you."[citation needed]
Before receiving a response, Kitchener made Lieutenant-General Julian Byng available to command IX Corps. On 15 August Hamilton dismissed Stopford and, while Byng was travelling from France, replaced him with Major-General Beauvoir De Lisle, commander of the British 29th Division at Helles. Hammersley was also dismissed but Hamilton intended to retain Mahon in command of the 10th Division.
However, Mahon was incensed that de Lisle, whom he disliked, was appointed above him and quit, saying "I respectfully decline to waive my seniority and to serve under the officer you name." He abandoned his division while it was in the thick of the fighting on Kiretch Tepe. The commander of the 53rd Division, Major-General John Lindley, voluntarily resigned.
General Stopford is blamed for the failure of the Suvla operation but responsibility ultimately lay with Lord Kitchener who, as Secretary of State for War, had appointed the elderly and inexperienced general to an active corps command, and with Sir Ian Hamilton who accepted Stopford's appointment and then failed to impose his will on his subordinate. On 13 August Hamilton had written in his diary,
"Ought I have resigned sooner than allow generals old and inexperienced to be foisted up on me." By then it was too late and Stopford's departure contributed to Hamilton's downfall which came on 15 October when he was sacked as the commander of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force.
Under General de Lisle's command, the Suvla front was reorganised and reinforced with the arrival of the 29th Division from Helles and the 2nd Mounted Division from Egypt (minus their horses). The fighting climaxed on 21 August with the Battle of Scimitar Hill, the largest battle of the Gallipoli campaign.
When it too failed, activity at Suvla subsided into sporadic fighting until it was evacuated by the British in late December. Conditions during the summer had been appalling because of heat, flies, and lack of sanitation.
On 15 November there was a deluge of rain and again on 26/27 November a major rainstorm flooded trenches up to 4 feet deep. This was succeeded by a blizzard of snow and two nights of heavy frost.
At Suvla, 220 men drowned or froze to death and there were 12,000 cases of frostbite or exposure. In surprising contrast to the campaign itself, the withdrawals from Gallipoli were well planned and executed, with many successful deceptions to prevent the Turks realising that withdrawals were taking place, minimal losses, and many guns and other equipment also taken off.
The Irish 10th |
The British |
The Scots |
*West Beach end of the completed sunken road and rail line at Suvla Bay which was constructed by the 1st Royal Australian Navy Bridging Train
The Newfoundlanders in Gallipoli
After almost a year of training, the Newfoundland Regiment learned it would be part of the 29th Division of the British Army fighting in Gallipoli. After a short stay in Egypt, 1,076 Newfoundlanders came ashore along the shores of the Dardanelles Strait on September 20, 1915. The flashes and the sounds of distant artillery and rifle fire quickly told them they were finally in a war zone. The next day they were shelled by Turkish artillery as they huddled in their shallow dugouts for protection—their welcome to Gallipoli.
The young Newfoundlanders had arrived hoping for action and excitement but they were soon disappointed. They spent the first months digging trenches and keeping long night watches, spending time on the front line learning trench warfare techniques from the ANZAC and British forces that had been fighting there for months.
Conditions were bad. Enemy fire and life in the trenches made the situation miserable for the Newfoundlanders. Even getting enough to drink was difficult; sometimes soldiers had to get by on less than a cup of water a day. The weather was harsh and unpredictable. The heat brought swarms of flies that helped spread diseases like dysentery which hit the Newfoundlanders hard. It could also be surprisingly cold as it was the worst winter in the region in four decades.
Weeks of heavy rains and wind battered the soldiers, turning trenches into flooded ditches. When the rains finally stopped, the weather turned very cold and caused many cases of frostbite. Despite the difficult conditions, the Newfoundlanders persevered and earned their first battle honour when they captured Caribou Hill (a high point used by Turkish snipers) in November, with three men earning medals for their bravery in the fighting.
The lack of a military breakthrough convinced the Allies it was time to withdraw from Gallipoli. It was decided the Newfoundland Regiment would help in the difficult task of covering the evacuation of Allied troops onto waiting ships. This rearguard operation went well and the Newfoundlanders were among the last Allied soldiers to leave Turkey in January 1916.
During the almost four months the Newfoundland Regiment fought at Gallipoli, approximately 30 men died in action and 10 more died of disease. The hardships and death they experienced were a taste of the even harsher experiences that were waiting when they were shifted to Europe’s Western Front in April 1916. By war’s end, more than 6,200 men had served in the regiment. The price was high, however—more than 1,300 died and many returned home with injuries to body and mind that lasted a lifetime. The loss of so many of its finest young citizens and the toll taken on the survivors was a heavy burden that Newfoundland had to bear for decades.
http://www.veterans.gc.ca/eng/remembrance/history/first-world-war/fact_sheets/gallipoli
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The Evacuation
Such were the demands for men intended for Salonika that forces were diverted away from Hamilton in Gallipoli, to the latter's great dismay. As it was Hamilton was facing increasing criticism from London as grim news of the expedition reached home, along with complaints of his mismanagement of the campaign (from the Australian journalist Keith Murdoch among others).
Evacuation
Thus with the possibility of further reinforcements to the region seemingly ruled out, Hamilton received word on 11 October 1915 of a proposal to evacuate the peninsula. He responded in anger by estimating that casualties of such an evacuation would run at up to 50%: a startlingly high figure.
The tide was clearly moving against Hamilton. His belief in what was widely viewed as an unacceptable casualty rate in the event of evacuation resulted in his removal as Commander-in-Chief and recall to London at a meeting of the Dardanelles Committee on 14 October.
Hamilton was replaced by Sir Charles Monro. Monro lost no time in touring Helles, Suvla Bay and Anzac Cove upon his arrival on the peninsula on 28 October. His recommendation was prompt: evacuation. This did not however meet with Kitchener's approval. He travelled to the region to see the state of affairs for himself.
Upon his arrival however he quickly reversed his thinking upon seeing the conditions facing the Allied force and recommended evacuation on 15 November 1915, overriding arguments by senior naval figures Sir Roger Keyes and Rosslyn Wemyss to attempt a naval seizure once again.
The British government, having prevaricated for several weeks, finally sanctioned an evacuation on 7 December. Unfortunately by this stage a heavy blizzard had set in making such an operation hazardous.
Nevertheless the evacuation of 105,000 men and 300 guns from Anzac Cove and Suvla Bay was successfully conducted from 10-20 December 1915.
The evacuation of Helles was conducted - comprising 35,000 men - from late December until 9 January 1916.
The evacuation operation was easily the most successful element of the entire campaign, with casualty figures significantly lower than Hamilton had predicted (official figures quote just three casualties).
Painstaking efforts had been made to deceive the 100,000 watching Turkish troops into believing that the movement of Allied forces did not constitute a withdrawal.
Winston Churchill however viewed Monro's achievement with a somewhat jaundiced eye: "he came, he saw, he capitulated" he wrote of Monro, and the sneer has remained through the years to blight Monro's correct decision and remarkable follow-through.
Casualties
480,000 Allied troops had participated in the Gallipoli campaign which comprised the Turkish Army's most significant success of the war. Of this figure 252,000 suffered casualties (of these 48,000 were fatalities). One-third of the 33,600 Anzac casualties comprised fatalities.
Turkish casualties have been estimated at 250,000, of which at least 65,000 are believed to be fatalities.
Eventual Access to the Narrows
Following the evacuation the Allies continued to block Mediterranean access to the Dardanelles Straits until Turkey's collapse and exit from the war at the end of October 1918.
With Turkey's defeat the British and French lost little time in assembling a sizeable fleet which duly re-entered the Straits in some ceremony and finally sailed into the Narrows en route to Constantinople.
On 23rd December 1915 a question was asked in Parliament whether any of the commanders at Suvla who had been dismissed could be named.
“SUVLA BAY LANDING.
“OFFICERS RELIEVED OF COMMAND.
“Mr. Lundon asked the Under-Secretary for War if he was now satisfied most people, and particularly members of Parliament, were well aware of the names of the officers who had charge of the Suvla Bay landing, whether he would now give the names to the public, and whether he would say if one of these officers, who was recalled and cashiered, was now doing military duty in London.
“Mr. Tennant did not think it desirable to give publicity to the names officers who had been relieved of their commands at the front. None of these officers had been cashiered, which was a punishment that could only be inflicted on sentence of court-martial, and then only for offences of the most disgraceful nature.“
“OFFICERS RELIEVED OF COMMAND.
“Mr. Lundon asked the Under-Secretary for War if he was now satisfied most people, and particularly members of Parliament, were well aware of the names of the officers who had charge of the Suvla Bay landing, whether he would now give the names to the public, and whether he would say if one of these officers, who was recalled and cashiered, was now doing military duty in London.
“Mr. Tennant did not think it desirable to give publicity to the names officers who had been relieved of their commands at the front. None of these officers had been cashiered, which was a punishment that could only be inflicted on sentence of court-martial, and then only for offences of the most disgraceful nature.“
He took part in World War I and, as General Officer Commanding IX Corps, was blamed for the failure to attack following the Suvla Bay Landing in August 1915 during the Battle of Gallipoli; however, responsibility ultimately lay with Secretary of State for War Lord Kitchener, who had appointed the elderly and inexperienced general to an active corps command, and with Sir Ian Hamilton, who had accepted Stopford's appointment. Stopford had chosen to command the landing from the sloop HMS Jonquil, anchored offshore, but slept as the landing was in progress.
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What were the conditions at Gallipoli like?
The Conditions at Galliopoli
It was the scene of some of the fiercest fighting of the war. Allied troops landed there in April 1915 and spent months on the small peninsula of land guarding the Dardanelles Straits in modern-day Turkey. The military aims of the campaign were not achieved and it was eventually called to a halt; the final Allied troops were evacuated in January 1916.
There were heavy casualties, not only from the fighting, but from the extremely unsanitary conditions. Of the estimated 213,000 British casualties, 145,000 were from illness. Surviving combatants also recalled the terrible problems with intense heat, swarms of flies, body lice, severe lack of water and insufficient supplies.
1. Fly swarms
The hot climate, putrefying bodies and unsanitary conditions led to huge swarms of flies at Gallipoli, which made life almost unbearable for the men there. The flies plagued them all the time, covering any food they opened and making it impossible to eat anything without swallowing some of the insects with it. As Gallipoli veteran Stanley Parker Bird said: ‘There were colossal swarms of these pests which had bred in the dead bodies not buried in no man’s land, where it was impossible to recover them without incurring fresh casualties.’ (IWM SR 7375)
2. Unappetising food
The food supplied to the men at Gallipoli was a source of much complaint. Hard biscuits, unappetising jam and tinned bully beef was the staple diet and many became fed up with its limited range. The rations they received were smaller than they'd have liked, too. Henry Barnes of the 4th Australian Brigade remembered several of the men he served with asking General Birdwood – the commander of the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps at Gallipoli – for ‘better rations’. He went on to explain that, ‘a little while after that, we had potatoes but as we had no means of cooking and there was nothing organised, they couldn’t be cooked.’ (IWM SR 4008)
3. No water
Fresh water was scarce on the dusty, dry Gallipoli peninsula – particularly at Anzac Cove – and was strictly rationed out. Getting water supplies to the troops was an arduous process. It was brought from abroad by sea and kept in tanks on the coast, then taken up to the trenches by troops or animal transport. The water shortage soon took its toll on men who were already weakened by the harsh climate and living conditions.
4. Extreme weather
Gallipoli had extremes of weather. During the summer months, it was blisteringly hot, which helped the spread of disease and flies and made the men’s tiny water rations feel even more inadequate. But the temperature could also plummet, and in the autumn and winter of 1915, the troops were shivering in their light uniforms; large numbers suffered from trench foot and frostbite. Torrential rain hit the peninsula in November which flooded the trenches, broke down the parapets and soaked the men.
5. Lice infestation
5. Lice infestation
The unsanitary conditions at Gallipoli soon led to a widespread infestation of body lice amongst the men. Men scratching at their louse-ridden skin and inspecting the seams of their uniforms for the parasites became a familiar sight. Unable to keep either themselves or their clothes clean, the men became lousy – and it was very difficult to get rid of the lice once they had them.
6. Rotting corpses
Another unpleasant feature of life at Gallipoli was the stench of decaying bodies left out in no man's land. The high casualty rates of the campaign – coupled with the risk of being shot at by snipers if any attempt was made to bring in the dead from out in the open – meant that putrefying corpses were common. These only added to the unhealthy conditions, providing ideal places for flies and disease to thrive.
7. Dysentery epidemic
A particularly debilitating aspect of service at Gallipoli was the widespread presence of illness and disease, especially dysentery. Brought on – and exacerbated by – the unhygienic living conditions, rotting corpses and huge numbers of flies, there was hardly anyone who had not been affected by it by the end of the campaign. It sapped men of their strength, made them and their clothing filthy and resulted in thousands who suffered from it being evacuated off the peninsula.
8. Basic latrines
The toilet facilities at Gallipoli were far from luxurious. Latrines in a war zone are never of a particularly high standard, but the cramped nature of the peninsula, the difficulty of keeping clean, and the widespread dysentery meant those at Gallipoli were in an especially poor state. British NCO William Davies also remembered that the latrines were a target for shells, as the Turks knew that the troops would have to visit them. (IWM SR 8320)
9. Inhospitable terrain
The small Gallipoli peninsula was unsuited for the lengthy campaign that took place there in 1915. The terrain was inhospitable, characterised by rocky ground with little vegetation and hilly land with steep ravines. After initial assaults on Gallipoli in April 1915, the Allied invasion lost its momentum in the face of strong Turkish resistance. Complex trench systems developed as the situation descended into an uneasy siege-like state. In some places, the Turkish and Allied lines were just a few dozen metres apart.
And so they left. The next theatre of war was no better than the hell they had just endured.
During the evacuation of Suvla Bay by Allied forces at the port they use beetle's broad war boats. /Allied evacuation of Gallipoli: Loaded "Beetles" in the harbour at "A" West Beach, Suvla Point.
The recollections of Sergeant W. Lench, a Canadian soldier at Gallipoli, who was injured the day before the evacuation:
The recollections of Sergeant William. Lench, S/N 1122 Newfoundland - a Canadian soldier at Gallipoli, who was injured the day before the evacuation:There was not much sudden death, but there was slow death everywhere. The body was slowly dying from the inside. We talked to each other; we laughed occasionally, but always the thought of death in our minds – our insides were dying slowly.- See more at: http://alphahistory.com/worldwar1/canadian-soldier-at-gallipoli/#sthash.f20vJw1U.dpuf
The water was death; the bully beef was death; everything was death. I was afraid to eat a thing. It terrified me; it made me feel dead. A man would pass me holding his stomach, groaning in agony, and a few minutes later I would take him off the latrine, dead. The men contracted dysentery and fever every day. The bullets did not take a big toll. It was the death of germs.
I worked with my men all day and all night. I was lucky to snatch a few hours’ rest in the middle of the day. The company had now thirty men to hold 200 yards of front. The sentries were posted at incredible distances apart. And for ever the patrols and the fatigues and digging day and night-digging, digging, infernal, intensive digging.
The company had been in the line twenty-five days; it was a record. There was no talk about going out for a rest; there was nowhere to go, only down to the beach, and the beach was shelled incessantly. It was safer in the line.
The food consisted of tea and biscuits. No meat. There was plenty of jam, but if a man was “fed-up” with war all he had to do if he wanted a nice bed on a hospital ship was to eat a tin of jam. Many a tired man looked longingly at the flaming red cross on the side of the hospital ship at night and opened a tin of apricots. They carried him away the next day or the day after.
There were rumours every day – cook-house rumours, latrine rumours, and trench rumours. They were always different. The regiment was doing this to-day and that to-morrow. No soldier will deny the psychological blessing of them. They were the hope of tired men, of fed-up men, and sick men.
They were lovely rumours, always original and timely. Nothing came of them. Dig and dig; patrol and patrol; raid and raid. Above all, over all, hopeful, glorious rumours! The company is going out of the line to-morrow for a month. The company has been ordered to Mesopotamia. The company is going to Egypt for the winter. There were rumours all day and all night.
One morning the captain called me. “Our trenches must be deepened three feet,” he told me. Why, God only knew. They were quite deep enough if a man went about at the stoop. Three feet deeper, and only twenty-five men left in the company to do the work. “Three days to do it, sergeant; and see it is done; don’t care how.” It was done.
A few days later there was an incredible rumour. The General Staff would pass along our trench at noon. The men had to scrape off the mud with jack knives; they were given a pint of water to shave and, God above, their buttons had to be polished. The joke of the deepening of the front line trench was now obvious. The war must be made safe for the generals.
At noon the order was passed along to “Stand at attention.” We did, and Lord Kitchener passed and his general’s cap was just six inches below the parapet. There were a number of Staff officers following him, and as they passed around the traverse of the trench their footsteps seemed to echo: “It’s hopeless! It’s hopeless!”
The next morning the company officer called me into his dug-out. He was a hard drinker and a brave officer. “There are rumours of an evacuation, sergeant,” he said. “Kitchener does not like the look of it for the winter; but there is nothing official. Perhaps we shall have good news to-night.”
I smiled as I went back to my trench. When did the British Army ever retire? It was impossible. Here for ever. Flies in a spider web – million to one against ever getting out. Evacuation, no! I was sorry for those sick men who would believe the story. There would be more raised hopes, more denials, and more silly talk. However, the impossible did happen. It was to be in ten days, the captain told me. Ten days, and the regiment would go to Egypt, the captain said – perhaps Cairo, certainly Alexandria. It was not a bad war after all!
The remaining days were full of feverish activity. Small mines were sunk; bully beef tins were filled with explosives and scores of rifles with time fuses were stuck about the trenches. I worked like a galley slave all day and all night.
The British Army was going to leave the ghastly place and outwit the Allahs on the opposite hill. Yes, the British Army would sneak away in the night under the cover of darkness. What a story to tell my grandchildren! “Once upon a time, my young hearers, I fought in the rear-guard action when my regiment ran away from Johnny Turk at Gallipoli.”
The days passed with the usual routine work. There were only fifteen men now to carry on, and there were still three days before the evacuation. Three days! Would I get away safely? The web was drawing closer around me, around the company, around every man left at Suvla Bay. What if the Turks suspected?
The preparations were completed. I was detailed to fight the rear-guard action with five other men. I should do something to win the War. There was a conference in the company officer’s dug-out to talk over the latest plans. In twenty-four hours, with a bit of luck, I should be sailing down the coast in a destroyer.
I went back to the trench and made up a bed on the firestep. I lay down and pulled a blanket over my shoulders and closed my eyes. A pain shot through my belly, a terrible biting pain. My whole body ached and ached; but tomorrow it would be good-bye to Gallipoli for ever. I slept, a sleep of pain, incessant pain.
“Stand to! Stand to!” Someone poked me in the ribs with a rifle butt. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I tightened my belt and felt for my rifle. I stood on the fire-step and peered through the dim light out over No Man’s Land. I felt a throb in my head; a rush of blood through my body. Darkness… black… black… darkness.
I was warm and snug. I woke up and looked around me. Where was I? In hospital – a whitewashed room with many beds. I did not ask any questions; I was still and quiet. I wished I would feel so warm and peaceful throughout eternity.
A young nurse came to my bed: “Sister! Sister! No.10 has come round!” She smiled at me, a lovely smile. “Nurse, where am I?” “Malta,” she answered, and she mentioned the place as if it were only a few hundred yards off W. Beach, Suvla Bay.
“Malta! ” I mused. “Not Egypt. What happened? The evacuation?…”
I slept again. When I awoke I took more interest in the ward and the beds around me. A patient in the next bed was reading a London newspaper. I saw the headline: “Suvla Bay Successfully Evacuated”.
He was born in England and lived in St Edmonton.
There was not much sudden death, but there was slow death everywhere. The body was slowly dying from the inside. We talked to each other; we laughed occasionally, but always the thought of death in our minds – our insides were dying slowly.
The water was death; the bully beef was death; everything was death. I was afraid to eat a thing. It terrified me; it made me feel dead. A man would pass me holding his stomach, groaning in agony, and a few minutes later I would take him off the latrine, dead. The men contracted dysentery and fever every day. The bullets did not take a big toll. It was the death of germs.
I worked with my men all day and all night. I was lucky to snatch a few hours’ rest in the middle of the day. The company had now thirty men to hold 200 yards of front. The sentries were posted at incredible distances apart. And for ever the patrols and the fatigues and digging day and night-digging, digging, infernal, intensive digging.
The company had been in the line twenty-five days; it was a record. There was no talk about going out for a rest; there was nowhere to go, only down to the beach, and the beach was shelled incessantly. It was safer in the line.
The food consisted of tea and biscuits. No meat. There was plenty of jam, but if a man was “fed-up” with war all he had to do if he wanted a nice bed on a hospital ship was to eat a tin of jam. Many a tired man looked longingly at the flaming red cross on the side of the hospital ship at night and opened a tin of apricots. They carried him away the next day or the day after.
There were rumours every day – cook-house rumours, latrine rumours, and trench rumours. They were always different. The regiment was doing this to-day and that to-morrow. No soldier will deny the psychological blessing of them. They were the hope of tired men, of fed-up men, and sick men.
They were lovely rumours, always original and timely. Nothing came of them. Dig and dig; patrol and patrol; raid and raid. Above all, over all, hopeful, glorious rumours! The company is going out of the line to-morrow for a month. The company has been ordered to Mesopotamia. The company is going to Egypt for the winter. There were rumours all day and all night.
One morning the captain called me. “Our trenches must be deepened three feet,” he told me. Why, God only knew. They were quite deep enough if a man went about at the stoop. Three feet deeper, and only twenty-five men left in the company to do the work. “Three days to do it, sergeant; and see it is done; don’t care how.” It was done.
A few days later there was an incredible rumour. The General Staff would pass along our trench at noon. The men had to scrape off the mud with jack knives; they were given a pint of water to shave and, God above, their buttons had to be polished. The joke of the deepening of the front line trench was now obvious. The war must be made safe for the generals.
At noon the order was passed along to “Stand at attention.” We did, and Lord Kitchener passed and his general’s cap was just six inches below the parapet. There were a number of Staff officers following him, and as they passed around the traverse of the trench their footsteps seemed to echo: “It’s hopeless! It’s hopeless!”
The next morning the company officer called me into his dug-out. He was a hard drinker and a brave officer. “There are rumours of an evacuation, sergeant,” he said. “Kitchener does not like the look of it for the winter; but there is nothing official. Perhaps we shall have good news to-night.”
I smiled as I went back to my trench. When did the British Army ever retire? It was impossible. Here for ever. Flies in a spider web – million to one against ever getting out. Evacuation, no! I was sorry for those sick men who would believe the story. There would be more raised hopes, more denials, and more silly talk. However, the impossible did happen. It was to be in ten days, the captain told me. Ten days, and the regiment would go to Egypt, the captain said – perhaps Cairo, certainly Alexandria. It was not a bad war after all!
The remaining days were full of feverish activity. Small mines were sunk; bully beef tins were filled with explosives and scores of rifles with time fuses were stuck about the trenches. I worked like a galley slave all day and all night.
The British Army was going to leave the ghastly place and outwit the Allahs on the opposite hill. Yes, the British Army would sneak away in the night under the cover of darkness. What a story to tell my grandchildren! “Once upon a time, my young hearers, I fought in the rear-guard action when my regiment ran away from Johnny Turk at Gallipoli.”
The days passed with the usual routine work. There were only fifteen men now to carry on, and there were still three days before the evacuation. Three days! Would I get away safely? The web was drawing closer around me, around the company, around every man left at Suvla Bay. What if the Turks suspected?
The preparations were completed. I was detailed to fight the rear-guard action with five other men. I should do something to win the War. There was a conference in the company officer’s dug-out to talk over the latest plans. In twenty-four hours, with a bit of luck, I should be sailing down the coast in a destroyer.
I went back to the trench and made up a bed on the firestep. I lay down and pulled a blanket over my shoulders and closed my eyes. A pain shot through my belly, a terrible biting pain. My whole body ached and ached; but tomorrow it would be good-bye to Gallipoli for ever. I slept, a sleep of pain, incessant pain.
“Stand to! Stand to!” Someone poked me in the ribs with a rifle butt. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. I tightened my belt and felt for my rifle. I stood on the fire-step and peered through the dim light out over No Man’s Land. I felt a throb in my head; a rush of blood through my body. Darkness… black… black… darkness.
I was warm and snug. I woke up and looked around me. Where was I? In hospital – a whitewashed room with many beds. I did not ask any questions; I was still and quiet. I wished I would feel so warm and peaceful throughout eternity.
A young nurse came to my bed: “Sister! Sister! No.10 has come round!” She smiled at me, a lovely smile. “Nurse, where am I?” “Malta,” she answered, and she mentioned the place as if it were only a few hundred yards off W. Beach, Suvla Bay.
“Malta! ” I mused. “Not Egypt. What happened? The evacuation?…”
I slept again. When I awoke I took more interest in the ward and the beds around me. A patient in the next bed was reading a London newspaper. I saw the headline: “Suvla Bay Successfully Evacuated”.
- See more at: http://alphahistory.com/worldwar1/canadian-soldier-at-gallipoli/#sthash.f20vJw1U.dpuf
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This is the story of Private Jack Dunn from New Zealand
Jack was a young man from New Zealand. He did what all the others did at that time, he signed his name on the papers, and off he went for a great adventure.
And he did, until this article was discovered while researching.
My personal opinion, that those who brought in this barbaric rule should have been charged as well.
Thank goodness that Australians were never tried to be executed for getting sick!!
But all stories need to be researched, and his biography is held with the New Zealand Archives, but there is not one word about this trial and the consequences.
Private Jack Dunn, Wellington Battalion (bare-headed, lower left), hears his death sentence read out in front of his unit, Quinn’s Post, 18 July 1915.* Dunn had been on the peninsula since the landing on 25 April 1915.
He had only recently returned from hospital after contracting dysentery. In mid-July, after having earlier reported sick, Dunn fell asleep on sentry duty. He was court martialled and sentenced to death for endangering the safety of his unit. General Sir Ian Hamilton rescinded his sentence on 5 August 1915. Three days later, Dunn died on Chunuk Bair.
*Sources vary as to the date this photo was taken. Some say 18 July – the day of the court martial. Other sources suggest 5 August - after the sentence was remitted - as it was not policy to inform soldiers charged with serious offences of their penalty until it was confirmed (by Hamilton, in this case).
From the Archives
Rank Private
Roll title 17th (Ruahine) Company, Wellington Infantry Battalion, NZEF
Courtesy of Wairarapa Archive 05-39/P-J-34-1.R14B9S4
John Robert Dunn, known as Jack, was born in the small town of Tinui in the rural province of Wairarapa to Matthew and Sarah Dunn on 22 November 1888. His parents were recent immigrants to New Zealand from Glasgow, Scotland. Several of Dunn’s brothers and sisters were born overseas, and it appears that two of the boys, Robert and John, died on the long sea voyage and were buried at sea.
Dunn was raised as a Roman Catholic and grew up in the Wairarapa community of Whakataki, near Castlepoint, where he attended the local school with his older brother Matthew.
Dunn began his career at the Wairarapa Daily Times, based in Masterton, and by 1911 was the sub-editor. In August 1912 he took up a position at the New Zealand Times in Wellington, but by August 1914, when the war broke out, the 25-year-old Dunn was back in Masterton, listing his current employer as the Wairarapa Daily Times.
As well as a being talented journalist, Dunn served for several years in the Masterton Rifle Cadets. He was a keen amateur sportsman, and competed in many athletic events in the Wairarapa region through the Wairarapa Amateur Athletics Club and the Masterton Harrier (or cross country running) Club.
Perhaps spurred on by journalistic curiosity, Dunn enlisted in the NZEF on 11 August 1914, just days after New Zealand’s declaration of war against Germany. He was assigned to the 17th (Ruahine) Company of the Wellington Infantry Battalion with the rank of private, and was sent to Awapuni racecourse in Palmerston North, where the four companies of the Wellington Infantry Battalion (also known as the Wellington Regiment) were gathering to begin their training. The official history of the Wellington Regiment records:
The training, like all training in camps throughout the War, consisted largely of physical exercises and route marching to get the men fit and hard, with a little musketry and steady drill, to get cohesion in the unit. There are two training days which deserve special mention, not, perhaps, for the training performed, but for happy recollections.
The first was a route march to Feilding, where the troops were the guests of the people of Feilding, and were entertained on arrival at the racecourse. The Feilding ladies had gone to great trouble to provide delicacies for the troops, many of whom were recruited from the Feilding district.
The troops bivouaced for the night at the racecourse, and marched early the next morning on the return journey to Palmerston North. Here a public welcome was accorded them in the Square.
Soldiers embarking on HMNZT Arawa in Wellington Harbour.
Museum of New Zealand Te Papa Tongarewa / O.040523
The Wellington Infantry Battalion travelled to Wellington on 22 September 1914 to join the rest of the NZEF. The battalion was split for the planned voyage and the Ruahines were assigned to HMNZT Arawa. There was a large parade for the departing soldiers on 23 September, attended by the Governor, the Prime Minister, the Minister of Defence and the Mayor of Wellington. However, the soldiers did not leave Wellington for another few weeks.
While their armed naval escort awaited further reinforcements, the infantry remained in their onboard quarters and continued their training regime around Wellington. The official history of the Wellington Regiment details:
In order to waste no time, rigorous training was the order of the day. The Regiment marched, manoeuvred and fought in miniature battles over the rugged hills on the out-skirts of Wellington, a not unfitting preparation for the fighting, soon to be our lot on the steep slopes of Gallipoli.
HMS Minotaur and the Japanese battleship Ibuki arrived in Wellington Harbour on 15 October, and the New Zealand Main Body prepared to depart the following day.
On 16 October 1914, Dunn embarked from New Zealand aboard Arawa. This ship was the third largest in New Zealand’s Main Body. It carried the majority of the Wellington Infantry Battalion, the Wellington Mounted Rifles Regiment, the Signal Troop and part of the Field Artillery Brigade from Wellington to Egypt - a total of 1,259 men, 59 officers and 215 horses.
Dunn’s brother Matthew, a trooper with the Wellington Mounted Rifles, probably also travelled onboard this ship.
After five days at sea, the Main Body reached Hobart, Tasmania, where the Wellington Infantry Battalion disembarked for a route march. The Wellington Regiment’s official history states:
It was an intensely hot day; but it was a relief to be ashore. The inhabitants received us with open arms. At the halts on the march, doors of houses were opened and the inhabitants, young and old alike, brought out jugs of refreshing drinks, and cakes and fruit, and handed them round to the perspiring troops.
They picked flowers, making bouquets for the men. All ranks returned to the ships greatly cheered by their run ashore, and with feelings of gratitude for Hobart and its inhabitants. The fleet sailed from Hobart on the 23rd October, but not before a great many cases of apples had been shipped for issue to the troops.
The convoy arrived in King George Sound on 28 October, where they met the 26 Australian troop transport ships. Together the New Zealand and Australian ships departed from Albany on 1 November 1914. Ships from Fremantle joined the convoy at sea shortly after.
On 9 November 1914, the wireless operator aboard HMNZT Arawa picked up a faint signal coming from an unknown warship in the Cocos Islands. A battleship from the convoy’s escort, HMAS Sydney, was sent to investigate, and intercepted the SMS Emden, a German raider, which had been stalking allied vessels throughout the Pacific and South East Asia. The event caused great excitement among the soldiers. An extract from The New Zealanders at Gallipoli reads:
At twenty minutes past eleven the wireless announced. ‘Enemy beached herself to prevent sinking.’ Restraint was thrown aside. The men cheered again and again. Messages then chased one another in quick succession: ‘Emden beached and done for. Am chasing merchant collier.’ The cheering burst out afresh, for this was the first mention of the ‘Emden’. How the New Zealanders envied the Australians this momentous achievement of their young navy.
The Arawa passed the equator on 13 November 1914. As with every other transport ship, the men aboard participated in a ‘Crossing the Line’ ceremony. Unfortunately this day was marred by a serious accident. Captain E J H Webb, a doctor from the New Zealand Medical Corps, hit his head when diving into ‘Neptune’s Pond’, which had been set up on the deck. He was taken to hospital when the ship reached Colombo but died a few days later.
The men aboard the Arawa liked to claim the distinction of being the first New Zealand troops to come under fire. When the ship reached the port of Aden it failed to drop anchor in the correct area, earning itself a shot across its bows.
When the convoy reached Suez on 30 November, they received word that they were to disembark in Egypt and not carry on to France as had been expected.
The Arawa arrived at Alexandria, Egypt, on 3 December 1914. Dunn’s 17th (Ruahine) Company, along with the West Coast Company of the Wellington Infantry Battalion, departed Alexandria by train bound for Cairo. There were no transport vehicles to meet them at Helmieh Station, so they had to march with their full kit to the site of what was to become Zeitoun Camp, arriving late in the evening.
After arriving in Egypt, the New Zealanders spent several months in training. Dunn’s commanding officer for the Wellington Infantry Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel William Malone, was known for his strict disciplinarian attitude towards this training regime. The routine is described in the official history:
Training now began in real earnest. Every morning before breakfast ‘physical jerks’; and, at 8 am, the battalion paraded, carrying lunch in haversacks, and the day was spent in training. Full packs were always carried on the march, and across the desert the going was heavy and dusty. The training grounds were usually selected at a distance three or four miles from the camp, so as to ensure a certain amount of marching every day.
Although the nights were invariably cold and the early mornings raw and misty, the sun shone from a cloudless sky throughout the day, and tunics were soon discarded. Training was never interfered with by the weather and, in fixing training schemes, weather contingencies were not considered.
On 25 January 1915, the New Zealand forces relocated to the Suez Canal area to join a garrison of Indian soldiers in the defence of this strategic asset. An Ottoman column was reportedly massing to attack the canal, but no significant battle ensued. The New Zealanders spent a relatively uneventful month in the canal area. The Wellington Infantry Battalion left the Suez garrison on 26 February, returning to Zeitoun Camp and the monotony of their daily training regime.
And that is it! Followed by some comments from his mates.
But a little further on:
Dunn gave his life while fighting for the NZEF at Chunuk Bair. The tiny rural Wairarapa community of Tinui, where Dunn was born, chose to commemorate his war service when constructing their memorial in 1924. His name is listed, without ignominy or distinction, alongside the names of all other local men who died while fighting for New Zealand in the First World War. Dunn’s sacrifice is also commemorated by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission, alongside 849 other New Zealand soldiers with no known graves whose names are listed on The New Zealand Memorial to the Missing on Chunuk Bair.
Nonetheless, the guilty verdict of his court-martial sentence has never been revoked. Several members of the extended Dunn family have explored the details of his short life. This includes the artist Pat White, who created an exhibition based on Dunn’s story through the Wairarapa Museum of Art and History, and published an accompanying catalogue, Gallipoli: in search of a family story.
Wairarapa Archive in Masterton, the town where Dunn lived just prior to the outbreak of the war, has done considerable research into his life and military service. They aim to encourage debate and understanding of the circumstances surrounding Dunn’s court martial and premature death.
Towards this end, the archive has made Dunn one of the key figures in their community engagement programs with local school children studying the First World War. They have also developed an exhibition about local servicemen for the centenary of the war that includes a section on Jack and Matthew Dunn.
Sunday 25Apr1915 5.30pm landed on beach at Gallipoli and could see the dead and wounded lying on the beach from a previous attack by the Anzacs;
27Apr1915 at Quinn's Post Dunn's unit made their way up a very steep hill under heavy fire, assisted by Infantry, several of their men were killed and the machine gun jammed on numerous occasions;
14May1915 his brother Matt, also a machine gunner, visited 'Jack' Dunn - Matt was wounded the very next day with shrapnel to his arm;
16May1915 taken by Fleetsweeper Newmarket and admitted to hospital suffering from pneumonia, then taken to Lemnos for specialist treatment;
15Jun1915 returned to duty where his unit was so close to the Turks they could hear them moving around in the trenches and this was where he was on sentry duty.
He had not been relieved, he was still sick and consequently fell asleep after being warned not to and was discovered by an officer - by commentary on the circumstances another soldier was to say 'you are dead on your feet, and at night time when you are standing up you would give your soul for an hour's sleep'.
At a field court-martial Dunn was charged and he pleaded guilty. A sentence of death was laid down.
The judgement was remitted by General Sir Ian Hamilton Commander-in-Chief. There is a photo at the Australian War Memorial that shows Dunn on 5Aug1915 bareheaded and under armed guard and in front of his regiment, the sentence 'to suffer death by being shot' was read out and then remitted due to his previous good conduct and his health.;
8Aug1915 just three days after his reprieve, his unit was part of the attack on Chunuk Bair, initially having success but the Turks, after bitter hand to hand fighting, retook it. Sadly 700 men of the Wellington Bn died that day including John Dunn who was shot through the throat and died instantly; he has no known grave but is commemorated on the Chunuk Bair (New Zealand) Memorial.
John Dunn was one of the twenty-eight New Zealand servicemen who were court-martialled during the First World War. He was the first New Zealander in World War 1 to be sentenced to death by court martial, and the only one at Gallipoli. The guilty verdict of his court-martial sentence has never been revoked.
In the Wairarapa Daily Times, 10 September 1915 it was reported, 'Private "Jack" Dunn, of Masterton, who is reportedly in to-day's casualty list as "believed to be killed" was a very popular resident of the town. He was about 26 years of age, and was a son of Mr M. Dunn, farmer, of Whakataki.
For years past he had followed journalistic pursuits, and was a member of the literary staff of the "Wairarapa Daily Times" when he enlisted in the Main New Zealand Expeditionary Force. Previous to that he had been on the staffs of the "New Zealand Times" and Levin "Chronicle".
In athletic circles Private Dunn was well and favourably known. He was a well-known runner. He had been a member of the Wairarapa Amateur Athletic Club, serving on the management committee of the club, and was secretary of the Masterton Harrier Club at the time he enlisted. He took a keen and active interest in football, and had played for the Red Star Club. He had also played a good deal of cricket and hockey.
The deceased was a very promising journalist, and had a bright career before him. He wrote several interesting letters to the "Wairarapa Daily Times" on the doings of the New Zealand troops at the front, the last appearing in our columns on Wednesday. The news of his death will be received with feelings of deep regret throughout the Wairarapa, and the sympathy of a wide circle of friends will be extended to the relatives in their bereavement.'
Why shoot those whose lives are a living hell? What affect would it have on those who have to carry out the order? OR those men witnessing it? Nothing is nice in War, this is intolerable.
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The campaign was one of the greatest Ottoman victories during the war and a major Allied failure. In Turkey, it is regarded as a defining moment in the nation's history: a final surge in the defence of the motherland as the Ottoman Empire crumbled.
The struggle formed the basis for the Turkish War of Independence and the declaration of the Republic of Turkey eight years later under Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, who first rose to prominence as a commander at Gallipoli. The campaign is often considered as marking the birth of national consciousness in Australia and New Zealand and the date of the landing, 25 April, is known as "Anzac Day" which is the most significant commemoration of military casualties and veterans in those two countries, surpassing Remembrance Day (Armistice Day).
The Gallipoli peninsula forms the northern bank of the Dardanelles, a strait that provides a sea route to what was then the Russian Empire, one of the Allied powers during the war. Intending to secure it, Russia's allies Britain and France launched a naval attack followed by an amphibious landing on the peninsula with the eventual aim of capturing the Ottoman capital of Constantinople (modern-day Istanbul). The naval attack was repelled and, after eight months' fighting, with many casualties on both sides, the land campaign also failed and the invasion force was withdrawn to Egypt.
Turks WW1 - 1914 |
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Have you ever thought how they felt? None of us will, but this song gives a bit of an insight!
And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" is a song written by Scottish-born folk singer-songwriter Eric Bogle in 1971. The song describes war as futile and gruesome, while criticising those who seek to glorify it. This is exemplified in the song by the account of a young Australian soldier who is maimed at the Battle of Gallipoli during the First World War.
The song is often praised for its imagery of the devastation at Gallipoli. The protagonist, a swagman before the war, loses his legs in the battle and later notes the death of other veterans with time, as younger generations become apathetic to the veterans and their cause. The song incorporates the melody and a few lines of the lyrics of "Waltzing Matilda" at its conclusion.
Many cover versions of the song have been performed and recorded. Liam Clancy, as part of the duo Makem and Clancy, had a number one hit in Ireland with the song in 1976. In May 2001, the Australasian Performing Right Association, as part of its 75th Anniversary celebrations, named "And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda" as one of the Top 30 Australian songs of all time
The song is an account of the memories of an old Australian man, who, as a youngster in 1915, had been recruited into the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps and sent to the Battle of Gallipoli. For "ten weary weeks," he kept himself alive as "around [him] the corpses piled higher". He recalls "that terrible day" ... "in the hell that they called Suvla Bay [they] were butchered like lambs at the slaughter" ... "in that mad world of blood, death and fire".
Click on the link below and turn the speaker up ............guaranteed goosebumps!
Stretching the Musical Licence -
(Does it really matter? The focus of the song is the message it conveys)
Photos sourced from:
http://www.iwm.org.uk/history/20-remarkable-photos-from-gallipoli
Australian War Memorial
Gelibou Images from Turkey
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