Gallipoli (77 page)

Read Gallipoli Online

Authors: Peter FitzSimons

And somehow their timing is perfect. For once, they commence their charge just as a barrage finishes, and it just so happens the Turkish resistance is minimal. As one soldier would recall, ‘The Turks, there were pretty few of them there, they scooted, and there was one old fellow there – he had a beard – about 70 – he pulled his rifle on us … The poor old joker, somebody shot him.'
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It seems the shallow trenches on the summit had provided precious little protection from the shelling overnight, so Johnny Turk had abandoned them, retreating back to the more strongly held Hill Q, and those who remain are quickly quelled. Yes, it is 24 hours later than planned, but they are in possession of Chunuk Bair, and as the sun rises, they can even see the Promised Land, and more importantly the promised waters of the Narrows!

All of which is to the good. To the bad is the obvious difficulty there will be in holding Chunuk Bair, as the Turks now unleash hell to dislodge them, starting with heavy shelling that cuts a swathe not only through Malone's Wellingtons but also through the companies of the New Army troops of Britain there to support them.

Malone instructs them: Dig! Defend! Get ready for the Turkish troops that will soon be launched upon us!

And so the men occupy the Turks' trenches on the forward side of the ridge, while digging support trenches on the reverse side, sheltered from the Turkish artillery. The clay is almost rock hard, but the men try their best, racing the rising sun, which will lift the haze that hangs over them and expose them as even surer targets to the Turks spread above on Hill Q.

DIG
, you noble bastards!

Monash's men are not so close to their objective.

The naval bombardment on Hill 971 ceases. And though ‘according to Godley's order, the column should have been “ready to reach” Hill 971' by this stage, they are nowhere near it! In fact, as Bean would later note, ‘The distance had been underestimated, the locality mistaken, and the start made hours too late …'
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They are wide of their mark. They are lost.

And now they are being fired upon by Turkish machine-guns that are well positioned above them: ‘Being in no present danger, [the Turks] worked their guns with coolness and decisive effect …'
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Monash's men are scattered, confused and out of touch with their Commander. Their numbers are quickly decimated. The objective of Hill 971 – though lost at the inception of this ludicrous plan – is absolutely out of reach. The best they can do is hold onto the line they'd begun to entrench the day before.

Colonel Kemal has not slept. Dark purple stains lurk beneath his water-blue eyes, and his normally rigid back is slumped over, haunted by fatigue. Ever since the fading darkness of night began to threaten the Peninsula with a new day of bloodshed, he has been watching the enemy ships fire on the area between Battleship Hill and Chunuk Bair.

From all the reports he is receiving, it is obvious there is a great deal of confusion along the range near Chunuk Bair as to where the enemy will strike, who the commander is and what their next move should be. One report reads, ‘We have men from the 14th, 64th and 25th and various … other regiments at the frontline. They are all mixed up … Most of the officers are martyred or wounded … In the name of the security of our homeland, I request that you send a determined and expert person to this sector.'
35

Another Battalion Commander reports at 5.40 am, ‘it is unclear whether the soldiers who have advanced towards Chunuk Bair and are consolidating their positions are friend or foe'.
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Colonel Kemal has little doubt. They are foe. And must be eliminated. Gazing hard through his binoculars at the peaks of the Sari Bair Range, hoping to sight them as dawn's fingers slowly curl around the summit, he feels very strongly ‘the weight of responsibility … heavier than anything, even death'.
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At Lone Pine, meanwhile, the desperate fighting has now been going on without break, from trench to trench, backward and forward, to the left and right, and back again, and back and forth, each move paid for with blood, as both sides pour in battalion after battalion to either hold what has been won or counter-attack and win back what has been lost. Acts of extraordinary bravery are performed on both sides, few of which are subsequently acknowledged. The Anzacs will be awarded no fewer than seven Victoria Crosses for actions at Lone Pine alone, though none from the first few hours – for nearly all of the officers needed to vouch for early turns of bravery have been killed.

And, of course, the casualty rate is fearful.

As to Private Cecil McAnulty, who had written in his diary just before the battle ‘hope to get through alright',
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to his amazement he has survived so far, and now, despite the bullets and shrapnel still whizzing past, he takes the time to write a little more:

I've pulled through alright so far, just got a few minutes to spare now. I'm all out, can hardly stand up. On Friday when we got the word to charge, Frank and I were on the extreme left of the charging party. There was a clear space of 100 yards to cross without a patch of cover. I can't realise how I got across it …

We were right out in the open and all the Turkish machine-guns and rifles seemed to be playing on us and shrapnel bursting right over us. I yelled out to the other 4 chaps, ‘This is only suicide, boys. I'm going to make a jump for it.' I thought they said alright we'll follow.

I sprang to my feet in one jump
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These prove to be the last words he writes, and his body is found later.

At 5 pm on that sultry afternoon of 8 August, General Sir Ian Hamilton – alarmed at the lack of news from Suvla Bay – comes ashore at that spot, hoping against hope that at last the breakthrough they have been waiting for might have been achieved … only to come across a scene that completely staggers him.

Despite everything he has said to General Stopford of the need for speed, the need to get off the beach and capture the high ground so they are not trapped on the edges like the Anzacs had been once the Turkish reinforcements had arrived, he finds on the beach, as he would angrily report to Lord Kitchener, ‘most of the troops strolling about as if it was a holiday'.
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The problem, Hamilton determines, lies not with the men but with their senior officers, who ‘seem to have no drive or control over them, and, worst of all, they have been saturated with pamphlets and instructions about trench warfare, and their one idea is to sit down and dig an enormous hole to hide themselves in …'
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Most frustrating of all to General Hamilton is when he finds out that five battalions are being ‘held up by a party of five or six hundred Turkish Gendarmerie'.
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In Hamilton's view, the Turks could be quickly put paid to with a bayonet charge, but their Commanding Officer, Major-General Frederick Hammersley, won't hear of it. For he is ‘preparing a turning movement from the south in accordance with Stopford's order not to make frontal attacks'.
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Even more appalling, most of the soldiers really have been resting during the day, and intend to keep doing so. The next move planned by the senior officers is for an advance ‘at dawn next morning'.
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Stupefied, Hamilton orders Commodore Keyes – who is equally aggrieved – to take him in his motorboat to
Jonquil
, where General Stopford has been based for all bar a couple of hours of the battle so far, so he can confront the man ultimately responsible.

Stopford, however, is quick to assure him. ‘Everything is quite all right and going well,' he says.
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‘And where are they now?' Hamilton asks, incredulous.

‘There,' Stopford says, showing him the position on the map on the table. ‘Along the foot of the hills.'

‘But they held that line, more or less, yesterday.'

‘Yes,' agrees Stopford, going on to explain that because the men had been tired out and he had not been able to keep the water and guns up to them the way he would have liked, he had decided not to attack the main ridge until the following morning, as that would likely be ‘a regular battle'.
46

‘A regular battle is just what we are here for,' Hamilton would record as the words he
wants
to say, but he does not. That would be impolite. This is Stopford's show and, though Sir Ian is Commander-in-Chief, he simply does not believe in riding roughshod in that manner. He had not done it with General Hunter-Weston on the day of landing, nor in any of the Battles of Krithia, and he does not do it now. It is not in his nature.

But at least he allows himself to give Stopford some pepper. ‘We must occupy the heights at once,' he says. ‘It is imperative …'

Can't be done, says Stopford. One can't just rewrite orders willy-nilly like that. ‘I agree with you in principle, as to the necessity of pushing on,' Stopford says, ‘but there are many tactical reasons against it, especially the attitude of my Generals on shore who have told me that the men are too tired.'
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Stopford, too, does not like to ask his Generals to do something they don't want to, and presumably the Generals feel the same about their soldiers.

Desperate, Hamilton goes in search of Major-General Hammersley, whom he finds at the northern end of a small half-moon of a beach … only to hear more of the same. Too difficult to attack now, and much better to wait until daylight when it would all be so much easier.

Just for once, Hamilton insists. ‘There has never been a greater crisis in any battle than the one taking place as we speak,' he says. ‘It is imperative, absolutely imperative that we occupy the heights before the enemy bring back the guns and they receive the reinforcements that are marching at this very moment to their aid. This is not a guess. Our aeroplanes have spotted the Turks marching on us from the north.'
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