Chapter 8

Advance to Ctesiphon

‘A good general not only sees the way to victory: he also knows when victory is not possible.’

(Polybius, Histories, 125 BC)

While all the political manoeuvres were being conducted by telegram and in various committees, for six weeks after the taking of Kut, the 6th Indian Division rested in a concentration at Azizieh, some 90 miles further upriver. Here it erected suitable defences and Townshend requisitioned from Basra the myriad items of stores he required. Incredibly, the Staff in Basra, with the concurrence of Nixon, refused to supply among many items, for example, wire cutters and Very lights. The Staff deemed them to be unnecessary.

36. Khalil Pasha, the aggressive leader of Turkish forces in Mesopotamia in the autumn of 1915.

The Division made do without the kit and applied itself to the absorption of its piecemeal reinforcements. The pre-war British battalions composed of regular soldiers had suffered serious loss and the corporate skill level of these battalions had been diluted by the absorption of less experienced replacements. The losses incurred by the Indian infantry had been no less severe but the quality of reinforcements caused Townshend concern. He recorded that, ‘I have never seen such a wretched class of recruits in the whole of my Indian experience and the battalion commanders did not mince their words on the matter.’ The quality was such that Townshend sent back to Basra an entire battalion’s worth of unsatisfactory trans-border soldiers from the north-west of India.¹²⁶ This decision was on the basis of ‘numerous desertions to the enemy’.

On the night 23/24 October an incident occurred which led to the withdrawal from the 16th Infantry Brigade of the 20th Punjabis and to their replacement by the 66th Punjabis from the 12th Division at Amara. The Turks were making great efforts by propaganda to seduce Indian Mahomedan troops from their loyalty and at this particular period were making much capital out of the fact that the British were approaching the tomb of Suliman Pak, a servant of the Prophet, which was one of the Islamic Holy Places. The Turkish propaganda had, however, no great effect. Whatever their religious scruples may have been, the Indian Mahomedans as a whole proved thoroughly loyal, the few exceptions being generally Pathans of trans-frontier tribes; and they were not always swayed by purely religious factors. The 20th Punjabis had one and a half companies of transfrontier Pathans; and, on the night in question, one of their Afridi sentries shot the other sentry and the non-commissioned officer of his piquet — both Sikhs — and, pursued by the fire of the remainder of the piquet, deserted to the enemy with another Afridi.¹²⁷

It was customary, in Indian regiments, to enlist different races and to mix these races in all guards, piquets, etc., in order to minimise the dangers arising from racial or religious scruples such as that described above. In practical terms each race policed the others.

Charlie was an officer of the Indian Army but, unlike the overwhelming majority of British officers of that army, he did not admire his Indian soldiers and whenever possible depended upon their British counterparts. It was a curious attitude but then Townshend was a curious man. To be fair it must be noted that Delamain had told Townshend at the conclusion of the battle for Kut that he did not think his ‘soldiers would storm trenches again if they were put to it’. This had the effect of endorsing Townshend’s negativity.

As the Division waited for its orders, the GOC, comfortable aboard ship, got down to his letter writing. He was an assiduous correspondent and shared his views with a wide circle of civilian and military associates. The civilians tended to be theatricals and the military were senior and career enhancers.

It was on 22 October that, for the second time, Nixon was warned in a direct telegram from London that 30,000 Turkish troops, under the command of Khalil Pasha, were on their way to the theatre. Further intelligence revealed that the German Field Marshal von der Goltz¹²⁸ was also in transit and that he would assume command on his arrival. This German had a track record as a brutal and ruthless individual. He was going to be a formidable adversary.

37. Field Marshal von der Goltz.

Nixon, in a display of extraordinary insouciance, decided to ignore the intelligence reports and did not deviate from his crusade to Baghdad.

This was folly of the very highest order.

Nixon issued his orders on 26 October and Nunn observed that ‘they had an excellent effect on our men who though suffering a good deal from sickness and worn with the long summer campaign, were confident of beating the Turks and of capturing Bagdad.’¹²⁹ The Mesopotamia Commission some months later, and with the advantage of hindsight, observed:

A spirit of intense optimism animated the headquarters and administrative staff. This is shown by their estimate of impending casualties, preparations being made for only 500 severely wounded. Two river steamers, the Mosel and the Julnar, were put on one side to be temporarily fitted up by Surgeon General Hathaway for the reception of wounded, the arrangements being that the more seriously wounded would be moved down to Kut in these vessels and the more lightly wounded located in Baghdad.

No apprehension of an effective repulse or our inability to reach Baghdad seems to have been entertained by those directing the advance.¹³⁰

Townshend was 30 miles short of the Turkish defence line at Ctesiphon. A valuable asset peculiar to the British was its few last surviving aeroplanes, one flown by a courageous officer called Yeates Brown. Hitherto, he had carried out invaluable reconnaissance and his reports to Townshend were as gold dust. It was he who had alerted Townshend to the disposition and strength of the Turks at Kut and most recently at Ctesiphon. He volunteered to overfly the enemy position and cut their telephone lines to Baghdad. This he accomplished but he was shot down and captured. The loss of this one officer was as serious as the loss of a battalion.

Townshend penned one important letter, privately, to the Viceroy on 2 November. Townshend had a track record of bypassing the chain of command and this was just another example. He told Hardinge that the morale of his division was ‘very low, and the men had their tails down. The Mohomedans are not pleased at approaching the sacred precincts of Suleiman Pak at Ctesiphon – the troops are not confident and have had enough. Now the British soldier and the sepoy look over their shoulders and are fearful of the distance to the sea. In consequence they go down with every imaginable disease.’ He added that the British battalions ‘could be relied upon but the Indians are now shaken and unreliable.’ On the day he wrote those words, only fifty-four Indian but seventy-five British soldiers had reported sick.

This was all very negative and in writing in these terms to the Viceroy, one wonders if he was hoping that Hardinge would abort the plans to advance. Townshend’s opinion of his troops was disputed. Others said that the Division had won a famous battle and the morale of the survivors was predictably high. The MC, in observing on his letter to Hardinge, remarked that, ‘These are not the words of a general commanding a force in the field who has confidence in the capacity of his troops to achieve the task assigned to them.’¹³¹

Townshend, not for the first time, had misled Hardinge when he spoke of his Indian soldiers’ reluctance to go to Suleiman Pak. This was not the case; the sepoys were in ignorance of their objective, which was always referred to as Ctesiphon (known to the British soldiers as ‘Pissedupon’). Religious matters were never an issue and Townshend’s motives are unclear. What is clear is that he was disloyal to his Indian soldiers who, in earlier days, had been paid in salt. This was the origin of the expression to be ‘worth one’s salt’ or Nimak hilal. It was the Indian soldier’s creed and he would follow his British officer anywhere.¹³²

It was on also on 2 November that the Prime Minister, Asquith, told the House of Commons, ‘General Nixon’s force is now within measurable distance of Baghdad. I do not think that in the whole war there has been a series of operations more carefully contrived, more brilliantly executed, and with a better chance of final success.’¹³³

These remarks by the Prime Minister, delivered with the authority of his post, were well received but, time would show, ill-judged.

At El Kutunie, 7 miles above Azizieh, the Turks had established a defensive position, but on the approach of the leading British brigade, the Turks encamped there promptly fled. This augured well for the battle ahead. Townshend burnt the Turkish installations and destroyed all the equipment that was found. He was obliged to send a gunboat downstream to protect the journey upstream of mahailas, under sail, bearing his supplies, of which he needed 208 tons per day but received only 150 tons. The danger from the Arabs had increased as the line of communication lengthened, and any river journey was now dangerous – despite the arrival of several of the new ‘Fly’ class of river gunboat, of which HMS Firefly was the first. Townshend continued to bombard Nixon’s supine headquarters with requests for his misemployed infantrymen – to no avail.

It was at this point that Townshend first started to display some irrational behaviour. With his immediate staff he was taking passage in the steamer Mejidieh. In this position there were creature comforts to enjoy and among these was a warm bed. Not so for Private John Boggis who, at night, curled up in his blanket outside Townshend’s cabin door. Townshend bestowed much of his affection on his small dog called Spot, in recognition of his one engaging black eye. Spot was a Jack Russell, or closely related to that breed. One very cold night Spot curled up against Boggis, and man and dog shared such body heat as they could conjure up. In the morning, a furious Townshend thrashed the dog unmercifully.

‘Why are you doing that, Sir?’ enquired a bemused Boggis.

‘He was sleeping with you,’ growled Townshend as he continued to belabour the small creature. ‘He’s my dog and he’s got to learn.’¹³⁴

Townshend ordered his entire division to abandon and stack all its surplus equipment, mess silver, clothing and personal possessions not needed in battle. He intended to travel light, defeat the Turks and return for the mountain of kit later.

Meanwhile, Nixon was determined not to miss the triumphal entry into Baghdad, so he and his entire staff had embarked in a steamer and sailed upriver as if to a picnic. For Townshend, slow progress of the river transport was a constant frustration, as was the shortage of equipment. At one point he decided he wanted a boat bridge so that he could send out a foray on the far bank. He was engaged in conversation with the major who was dealing with the problem when Nixon strolled by. Nixon enquired of the major if the boats he had were satisfactory.

‘No, Sir,’ replied the officer.

‘Why don’t you use pontoons?’ asked Nixon.

‘Only eighteen are authorised, Sir.’

‘Wire India for more,’ Nixon ordered, turning to one of his staff officers. Then, addressing the major, he continued, ‘How many do you want?’

A pontoon cost over £100 and the major wondered if he could ask for twenty. He was well aware of the parsimony of the Indian Government.

Nixon, exuding authority, said, ‘100?’

The major was amazed and did not answer at once.

‘200?’ interrogated Nixon.

‘Fifty, Sir,’ responded the major eventually.

Nixon instructed the staff officer to wire for the pontoons at once.¹³⁵

It was an absurd moment of military theatre. As Braddon wrote, ‘He might as well have wired for a million because there were none available in India.’

On 12 November, Hardinge penned a petulant letter to Chamberlain objecting to the Secretary of State’s suggestion that Nixon should reconsider his next move. There were more than sufficient dark clouds on the military horizon, but Hardinge wrote defensively as follows:

Nixon will act as he thinks best. He is in command, and we have full confidence in him to perform his duties properly, and if he needed our interference in such matters, we would not think him fit to hold his post and would remove him … Nixon is a very fiery little man and nobody would resent it more than he.¹³⁶

The tone of this indicates that Nixon’s strong personality was a factor in the decision-making and that, despite Hardinge’s use of the royal ‘we’, Nixon was on a very loose rein and probably difficult to control.

Townshend was as ready as he was likely to be when finally his long-awaited supply ships arrived on 18 November. With their welcome arrival, but from an identified source, came the unwelcome news that, ‘a Turkish advance, five or six thousand strong, was closing on Zeur.’ Zeur, a mere dot on the map and of no particular significance, was some 14 miles distant and Townshend responded vigorously. He formed his force into two columns and marched them, about 3 miles apart, towards the enemy, who promptly withdrew.

A bloodless victory? Well, perhaps.

But Townshend was now about 104 miles from the security of Kut and in close proximity to a well-prepared enemy. He bivouacked for the night and the following morning moved further upriver to Lajj, with its groves of tamarind and casuarina.¹³⁷ The Turks had ample time to prepare their positions and, as the British force looked to its front, on its right-hand side (the left bank, looking downstream) were two very strongly fortified lines, each anchored on the Tigris and over 5 miles long. There was a gap of about 3½ miles between the lines. On the other bank were similar, shorter fortifications but in front of those the ground was broken by old watercourses and abandoned canals. It was impossible going for either cavalry or horse gunners.

Behind the Turks and parallel to their position, the Diyala River flowed into the Tigris. It was a bar to a withdrawal, and Townshend took note of that. He hoped to trap retreating Turks on the banks of the Diyala when he drew up his plan. Nixon, who was a mere spectator to the preparations, realised fully to what extent his career and reputation rested on Townshend’s shoulders. He asked him if he was confident of winning. Townshend provided the right measure of reassurance to his commander and said that he expected success.

In simple terms, Townshend’s plan was a rerun of his tactics at Kut in that he would initiate a turning attack on the right bank (looking upstream) to outflank the Turkish left, at the same time holding in position Turkish troops on their right in order to prevent them moving once contact had been made.

There were several features on the battlefield that had to be accommodated. The first of these was the Great Arch of Ctesiphon,¹³⁸ which was between the Turkish front and second lines. This venerated structure had to be safeguarded and the hope was that the enemy would not fortify it. Another feature was ‘High Wall’, the remnants of an old structure. In desert conditions a 12-foot wall counts as high ground; a 50-foot wall, as in this case, affords commanding views and provides an invaluable firing point. The third feature was what Townshend called Vital Point, or VP. This consisted of two redoubts at the northernmost point of the first line. Taking the VP was the key to victory.

Chapter notes

126 Townshend, C.V.F., My Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.143.

127 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia. 1914–1918, Vol. 1, p.47.

128 Wilhelm Leopold Colmar Freiherr von der Goltz (1843–1916) was a Prussian field marshal and military writer. His extreme brutality in Belgium in 1914–15 was much admired by Adolf Hitler, for whom he was a role model.

129 Nunn, W., Tigris Gunboats, p.166.

130 MC Report, p.29.

131 Ibid.

132 Raynor, C.A., Lieutenant Colonel, in an interview with Braddon, 1968.

133 Hansard, 3 November 1915.

134 Boggis, Mr J., in an interview with Braddon, c. 1968.

135 Sandes, E.W.C., In Kut and Captivity, 1919.

136 Hardinge to Chamberlain, 12 November 1915, Chamberlain papers 62/1.

137 Spackman, Colonel W.S., Never come back no more, private papers.

138 Ctesiphon is located approximately at Al-Mada’in, 20 miles south-east of the modern city of Baghdad. Ctesiphon was once a great city; it dates back to AD 540 and covered an area of 18 square miles. The only visible remains today are the great arch (Taq-i Kisra) located in what is now the Iraqi town of Suleiman Pak.