Chapter 3

Invasion and the Capture of Basra

‘Never lose sight of your principal object; do not act contrary to your orders, do not be led astray by secondary issues.’

(Lieutenant General Johann von Ewald, Treatise on the duties of Light Troops, 1790)

The principal and closest British asset to the Mesopotamian oil was the Indian Army. This was a force designed to conduct operations, principally on foot, against dissident tribesmen and to protect the North-West Frontier from Russian invasion.

The Viceroy of India was the heavily decorated and much respected Lord Hardinge. He had taken up the post in November 1910, having been granted a peerage on his appointment. Hardinge was a professional civil servant/diplomat; his previous appointment had been Permanent Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs. There can be no doubt that he was a very capable, experienced and self-confident man. As Viceroy he was a man of massive, unchallengeable power in India and vast influence outside the subcontinent.

In the opinion of Douglas Gould, ‘The military operations in Mesopotamia began in a modest and legitimate manner and Lord Hardinge’s initial role was cautious and wholly commendable. As early as 17 August 1914 he stressed to the home government that for the sake of Muslim opinion in India, any breach between Britain and Turkey must clearly be seen to be the result of Turkish actions.’¹²

Hardinge was well aware that he had inherited an army with many weaknesses and deficiencies. In his opinion it was run by ‘three fairly intelligent old women – Generals Lake, Aylmer and Burbury’, and he had a very low opinion of their superior, the Commander-in-Chief, General Sir O’Moore Creagh, whom he described as ‘an old man with one foot in the grave’.¹³ That was a view shared by Lord Crewe, Secretary of State for India.

There were clearly weaknesses at the top!

Pre-war, the policy of Hardinge, notwithstanding the multiplicity of deficiencies of the Indian Army, was to make it ‘more efficient’ but at the same time reduce its budget. In these, not necessarily compatible, aims he had the support of Lord Crewe.¹⁴ Neither envisaged the remotest possibility of the Indian Army being engaged outside its borders.

In 1912, Hardinge set up a committee to report on the Army and to decide if reductions were possible. The committee could not agree and so produced two reports. The Majority Report averred that although external threats to India had reduced, the internal dangers had grown. It concluded that the existing military budget of £19.5 million should remain untouched.¹⁵ The Minority Report, on the other hand, emphasised that the external threat should not be underestimated and there was a possibility that troop demands might be made in the future to confront an adversary in Turkish Arabia. It added that the budget should not only be retained at current levels but ‘might have to be increased.’¹⁶

The Minority Report was prescient. The Mesopotamia Commission summed up the capability of the Indian Army in 1914 as follows:

[From 1909] reductions were made on the assumption that the Indian Army need not contemplate the likelihood of a collision outside India with the army of a European power, and the provision for the equipment, organisation and transport of the Indian Army was regulated by the requirements of frontier warfare alone.¹⁷

In 1914, the Indian Army was capable of engaging in limited operations outside the sub-continent because it had an abundance of volunteer manpower.¹⁸ However, like all British military organisations since time immemorial, it was underfunded and subject to constant calls for economies, or ‘savings’, in the parlance of the twenty-first century. ‘Savings’ implies the presence of surplus capacity, readily available for redistribution, without penalty. This is a political myth much favoured by those who have never themselves been asked to ‘do the same with less’.

In India, Sir William Meyer¹⁹ was the Finance member of the Government Council that ruled India. In the months that lay ahead he would be accused of being unduly parsimonious and of starving the Army of funds. The fact is that he could not distribute money he did not have.

It will come as no surprise to any reader of military history that stringent economies put in place in peacetime have a direct and deleterious effect on an armed force when, later, that force is required to take military action. A hundred years on, that lesson has still not been learned and the implications are graver. In 2016, in an increasingly unstable world, Her Majesty’s Government is set on the maintenance of the Armed Forces at the absolute minimum level, and by so doing, reducing Britain’s capacity to defend itself.

3. Map of the early area of operations. (World War I at Sea)

Today, the sophistication of twenty-first-century weapon systems and the increased lead time needed to obtain equipment and train sufficient volunteer personnel to operate that equipment puts the Realm at risk. A call to the colours is not and will not be enough, but the short-term political imperative continues to ignore the hard-learned lesson of history, which, in a nutshell, is: ‘disarm at your peril!’ The cruel fact of military life, then and now, and for the foreseeable future, is that you cannot have effective defence on the cheap.

The Indian Army in 1914 was made up of indigenous Indian troops led, in the main, by British officers and supplemented by a sizeable leavening of British units.

In London, General Sir Edmund Barrow,²⁰ the Military Secretary to the India Office, was well aware of the importance of maintaining British prestige among local tribal sheikhs in the British-protected sheikhdoms of the Arabian Peninsula. On this basis, Barrow advised Lord Crewe, the Secretary of State, to negotiate with the Indian Government to arrange the despatch of a significant formation to the Shatt al-Arab waterway at the head of the Persian Gulf. The benefits of such a move were that it would reassure any wavering local allies of continuing British support, whilst at the same time making it clear that Britain was prepared to use force to protect its interest in the Anglo-Persian Oil Company’s installations and pipeline terminal at Abadan.

The Viceroy of India’s new, very recently appointed, military chief was General Sir Beauchamp Duff,²¹ and together they formed an all-powerful team. They were in a position to manipulate the military resources of India as they saw fit, although, notionally, they were part of the Council of Government.²²

The underfunding of the Indian Army and the lacklustre performance of General Creagh over several years had prompted Hardinge to insist, vigorously, on the appointment of Duff to replace him. The hope was that this officer, renowned for his administrative ability, would somehow revitalise the Army and cure its malaise. The War Office resisted and General Jack Seeley, the Secretary for War, wrote to Lord Crewe that he only acquiesced in the appointment of Duff ‘with grief and pain’ – powerful words in any context. Seely closed portently, ‘You must account this to me for righteousness in time to come.’ It was convoluted language but evidently not everyone shared Hardinge’s admiration for General Sir Beauchamp Duff.²³

4. General Sir Beauchamp Duff GCB GCSI KCVO CIE KSt.J, Commander-in-Chief of the Indian Army, 1914–1916.

The Secretary of State for India, Lord Crewe²⁴ – the political superior of both Hardinge and Duff, but who was many thousands of miles away – was dependent upon both men to advise and inform him on issues of their mutual concern. It follows that ‘Command and Control’ was ill defined – never a sound basis upon which to operate.

Hardinge and Duff resisted the provision of Indian assets, for the global challenge facing the British Empire as their focus, perhaps admirably, was the security of India. They viewed other issues as secondary to this aim and neither man fully embraced his responsibilities outside the borders of India.

On 29 September 1914, HMS Espiègle²⁵ sailed up the Shatt al-Arab as far as Muhammerah; following her was the armed merchantman HMS Dalhousie. The sloop HMS Odin patrolled outside the Shatt and beyond the sand bar created over the centuries by the two great rivers. These were all small ships mounting 4-inch guns, adequate for their policing role.

However, times they were a-changin’, and so too were attitudes.

Now the Vali of Basra, Colonel Subhi Bey, took exception to the Royal Navy’s presence and demanded its withdrawal. His demand fell on deaf ears and Britain made its move on 2 October 1914. Rumours that the German ship Emden was en route to the Shatt were countered by the decision to station the old Canopus class battleship, HMS Ocean, at the mouth of the Gulf.²⁶

As the political temperature rose, so increasing pressure had been brought to bear on the IG. It was eventually cajoled into despatching an infantry brigade, hived off from a force bound for East Africa, to Mesopotamia.

This brigade was the forerunner of what would evolve into Expeditionary Force ‘D’ to the Persian Gulf.²⁷ Initially, 16th Infantry Brigade was the formation deployed and it moved to occupy Abadan Island. In a display of poor planning that was to be the pattern for the future, the Brigade was carried by ships that did not have the capability to land troops and equipment other than in the ships’ boats, unsuitable for an opposed, cross-beach operation.

Somewhat frustrated, the convoy anchored off Barain (contemporary spelling), from where it could see that the Turkish fort at Fao was under naval gunfire. Some distance away, Espiègle, an elegant ship that looked more like a yacht, engaged the Turkish troops opposite Abadan Island and her guns inflicted severe punishment on the opposition. This brief and long-forgotten skirmish became known as the Battle of Abadan. Success allowed 16th Brigade, under the command of Brigadier General W.S. Delamain CB DSO,²⁸ to pass by the Abadan refinery and its distinctive seven chimneys. The Ottoman troops who had succumbed to Delamain’s thrust were no better prepared for twentieth-century warfare than their Indian adversaries. There was an important clause in Delamain’s orders, which was ‘to show the Arabs that we intend to support them.’

This was the first time in the campaign that British ships had opened fire on the enemy – naval gunfire was to become a feature of the war in Mesopotamia, as was the reliance of the Army upon the Royal Navy. The Royal Navy was to play an increasingly critical role in all future operations and not least in the advance north up the Tigris. It was HMS Odin, a Cadmus class ship, that successfully engaged the Turkish fort to such a degree that it swiftly surrendered.

Basra, with its population of about 60,000, was taken against token resistance. Then 18th Brigade, under the command of Brigadier General C.I. Fry and which was now part of the piecemeal build-up of IEF‘D’, advanced a further 35 miles up the Shatt al-Arab to threaten Kurnah. Meanwhile, 17th Brigade, commanded by Brigadier General W.H. Dobbie, had joined the formation, bringing the strength of IEF‘D’ to 15,000, with 1,600 pack camels. Ere long, IEF‘D’ would be designated 6th Indian Division.

5. Lieutenant General (later Field Marshal) Sir Arthur Barrett KCB KCVO. (Photo by Russell)

Leading the force was Lieutenant General Sir Arthur Barrett KCB KCVO. It did not take him long to discover that the grazing opportunities for 1,600 camels were very limited, so he promptly sent half of them back to India. It seemed to be a good idea at the time, but these 800 beasts represented a potent load-carrying asset that would be sorely needed in the months ahead.

6. The setting for the opening shots in the Mesopotamian Campaign, November 1914. (World War I at Sea)

The re-embarkation of 800 camels was not a task to be undertaken lightly as there were no berthing arrangements at Basra. It could not really be described as a ‘port’ because it was unsatisfactory in every way. However, it was the best on offer and the personnel of IEF‘D’ had no option but to turn to and make the best of a bad job. The Mesopotamia Commission was stating the obvious when it observed:

The provision of adequate and suitable river transport above Basra and of sufficient wharfage and unloading facilities at Basra was a necessity, if effective military operations were to be carried out as an expeditionary force must be sea-borne, sea supported and sea victualled.²⁹

Unfortunately, IEF‘D’ had to take Basra as it was, warts and all. It was necessary for all personnel, stores and animals to be offloaded into bellums. These were flat-bottomed, ungainly craft with a low freeboard; their design had not changed in a thousand years. They were propelled either by punting or the use of paddles.

Unloading a ship was a slow, frustrating, labour-intensive exercise because the loaded bellums had then to be taken to the bank of the Shatt al-Arab and unloaded. There were no warehouses to accommodate stores and equipment, and very few buildings in which to house the troops. A tented city sprang up. In the meantime the insanitary flies tormented everyone and the smell, filth and squalor repelled those new to this part of the world.

Notwithstanding all of that, to this point all was well and the aim of His Majesty’s Government had been achieved. However, two years later, the MC reported:

The force, which now amounted to a division, was armed and equipped as for frontier expedition and its medical equipment was even below this scale but the conditions the expedition had to face, both climatic and military, proved to be of a very different character to those which prevail on the frontiers of India.³⁰

The India Office in London agreed that it would be advantageous to press on as far north as Kurnah, if at all possible. The benefits of holding the confluence of the two great rivers, and the control it would provide over the whole of the navigable waterway to the sea, as well as the richly cultivated area around Kurnah, were significant. Supplementary benefits were the effect it would have on the indigenous population and the control of the telegraph to that point.

Kurnah had little else to recommend it. It was every bit as filthy and malodorous as Basra. Its inhabitants fouled the waters of the Tigris and it was prudent to take drinking water only from the middle of the stream. This was because the daily defecation of countless Arabs decorated the banks and the shallows.

One of the aims of IEF‘D’ was to cement relations with the Arab population, but this was a difficult task as the British and Indian soldiers held the Arabs in the lowest possible regard. They knew them to be masters of larceny who would steal anything, and that included items screwed to the ground. The Norfolks, for example, lost a latrine flag and there was speculation that this might be hung up in the military museum in Constantinople. Soldiers had to sleep on their rifles and despite barbed wire, booby traps and sentries with orders to shoot on sight, the marauders still broke into the lines and stole anything and everything. Tommy Atkins and his Indian comrade were disinterested in making Arab friends who they knew, full well, would cut their throats given the chance. Similarly, the indigenous Arabs were, for the most part, not overly interested in making friends with the Anglo/Indian force now camped in their back yard.

7. HMS Odin (Nunn)

That back yard was not a desert utopia where a man might sit under a palm tree, dabbling his feet in the clear waters of a beautiful river while sipping on something long and cool. It was not like that. It was instead a very deeply unpleasant and repellent place to be. Then there were the flies – uncounted billions, nay trillions, of them.

In this unattractive part of the world there had already been skirmishes with the Turks. Henry Short, a medical officer attached to 33rd Indian Cavalry Regiment, arrived in the theatre in late 1914. He recorded a personal experience during an early engagement with the Turks:

I saw one Turk firing at us from behind a bush; I jumped off my horse, threw the reins to my orderly and seized hold of this man’s rifle. And we had a tug of war: I was only using one hand as I had a revolver in the other! Suddenly a blinding flash in my face and I didn’t know what it was. Temporarily blinded, as soon as I could see, I had a hold on the Turk’s rifle: he was lying on the ground. I could’ve shot him but I didn’t because he was unarmed. Then we let him go. Major Anderson, when I re-joined the rest, said he was astonished how easily his sword had gone through a Turk. He said it was just like going through butter!³¹

On 23 November, after Basra was occupied, a conference was held at the headquarters of IEF‘D’. At that meeting, Commander A. Hamilton, an officer of the Royal Indian Marine, recommended to the General Staff that they should, at once, ask for twelve river steamers of the Medjidieh class. Hamilton had worked on the Tigris for the previous two years and was familiar with the river as far as Baghdad. He was a subject matter expert and eminently qualified to give advice. Hamilton realised that the building of new craft would probably take about twelve months and he counselled that existing ships be diverted from India. The MC commented, ‘There is reason to believe that, had Commander Hamilton’s foresight, knowledge and advice been acted upon, subsequent difficulties would have been mitigated, if not altogether avoided.’³²

As it happens, the Staff was not swayed by Hamilton’s expert advice and did not accord that advice any priority, although it conceded that six additional steamers ‘might be required.’

Any armed force depends upon the command and administrative organisation that directs and supports it. ‘Staff officers’, of all ranks and disciplines, people this support organisation. In this case, the Staff in Simla and in Barrett’s headquarters was imbued with a strongly entrenched, regulation-driven culture. There was scant room for an officer who dissented from the official line or who initiated any action not fully authorised by existing regulations designed for an army in India. The result was disinterested inertia for the Army serving in Mesopotamia. It was the thousands of soldiers, who depended upon the Staff to meet their needs, who went without. Sir Percy Cox, an Indian civil servant and advisor on civil affairs, was now established in Basra; but he made a poor judgment and did not enhance his reputation when he suggested that an announcement should be made that the occupation should be permanent.

This suggestion was peremptorily swept to one side by HM Government on the ground that it would be utterly contrary to the agreement come to between the Allies, if occupation of any conquered country were at once announced as to be permanent, without waiting for the final settlement to be made at the close of the war.³³

The Turks who had been defeated in the early exchanges had withdrawn to Kurnah and were in a strong defensive position with wide water barriers on two sides. They could take comfort that any attacking force would have to cross either the Tigris or the Euphrates before they could assault the town.

Colonel P.H. Hehir CB MD FRCS IMS was the Principal Medical Officer up to April 1915. In the opening months of the campaign, his reports to Surgeon General Babtie in India displayed watchfulness and foresight and were in ‘refreshing contrast’ with the administration of his successor, Surgeon General Hathaway. Colonel Hehir came out of the MC with great credit and the Report waxed eloquent on his professional skills and judgment. He was obviously a resourceful and innovative doctor who ducked and dived to care for his patients. However, the desultory operations at the beginning of the campaign, coupled with Colonel Hehir’s capacity to improvise and make do and mend, concealed the serious underlying problems besetting the medical establishment in Mesopotamia.

8. Honorary Major General Sir Percy Cox GCMG GCIE KCSI KBE.

The deficiency covered every aspect of medical care: insufficient medical staff, insufficient medical equipment and insufficient medical accommodation, afloat and ashore. Despite Colonel Hehir’s diligence and ability, the MC said of him:³⁴

It was he who set up the expedients for which he was later on obliged to criticise Surgeon General Hathaway. We think that Colonel Hehir was to blame for failing to requisition India for equipment, which though not indispensible at the time was certain to be indispensible in the future. It was a mistake to risk disaster before taking measures which ordinary foresight would have adopted long before.

This seems to be an ungenerous judgement on a capable and diligent officer. The Indian Medical Service did not cover itself in glory in Mesopotamia and the serious problems did not manifest themselves until well after Hehir had left his post to serve at the front, incidentally reporting to Hathaway. After the war, Hehir went on to pastures new and to greater glory.³⁵

Chapter notes

12 Gould, D., ‘Hardinge and the Mesopotamia Commission’, The Historical Journal, December 1976, p.925.

13 Hardinge to F.A. Maxwell, 18 August 1914, Hardinge papers, Cambridge University Library 93/No. 66.

14 Crewe to Hardinge, 17 February and 3 March 1911, Hardinge papers, 117/Nos. 17 & 19.

15 Majority Report of the Army in India Committee, 1912, para. 639.

16 Ibid, paras 112–13 & 705.

17 MC Report, p.10.

18 The strength of the Indian Army at the time was 159,000 Indian troops and 76,000 British troops.

19 Sir William Stevenson Meyer GCIE KCSI ICS (1860–1922). In 1920 he was appointed as the first High Commissioner for India. He died in that post.

20 General Sir Edmund Barrow GCB KCMG (1852–1934).

21 When Lord Kitchener was appointed as Commander-in-Chief, India in November 1902, he ensured the passage of Beauchamp Duff to the highest level and Duff was identified, thereafter, as a ‘Kitchener man’. On 8 March 1914, Duff reached the senior position when he replaced General Sir O’Moore Creagh as Commander-in-Chief, India. The Viceroy championed his appointment and, by doing so, set a precedent. It was a departure from the normal practice as previously, a British Army officer always held the post. Beauchamp Duff was an officer of the Indian Army.

22 The Government of the Raj consisted wholly of British officials and was headed by the Viceroy and the appointed members of his council. After the Indian Councils Act was passed in 1861, this executive council acted as a cabinet and also as part of an imperial legislative council.

23 General Jack Seely to Crewe, 15 October 1913, Crewe papers 1/13(9).

24 Lord Crewe KG PC, 1st Marquess of Crewe (1858–1945). Austen Chamberlain replaced him as Secretary of State for India, in 1915.

25 She was a Cadmas class sloop that was launched in 1900.

26 Nunn, W., Tigris Gunboats, p.26.

27 The Indian Government sent other expeditionary forces to Egypt (A), East Africa (B and C) and Gallipoli (E).

28 Later, Lieutenant General Sir Walter Delamain KCB KCMG DSO (1862–1932).

29 MC Report, p.9.

30 Ibid, p.13.

31 Podcast, 18 Mesopotamia First World War Centenary, IWM.

32 MC Report, p.44.

33 Ibid, p.15.

34 Ibid, p.70.

35 Later, Major General Sir Patrick Hehir CB CMG KCIE MD DTM FRCPE FRCSE (1857–1937). His medals were sold at auction in September 2006 for £6,200.