Chapter 11
The Siege – Early Days, December 1915
‘Every great operation of war is unique. … There is no surer road to disaster than to imitate the plans of bygone heroes and fit them to novel situations.’
(W.S. Churchill, Marlborough, 1933–38)
Despite the retreat to Kut, in those early days of December 1915 Hardinge still remained overly optimistic – that was, once he had got over his brief, initial feelings of disappointment at the unravelling of his great plan.
His underlying optimism was manifest in three ways. First, most importantly, he did not abandon his aspiration to take Baghdad, although he could not carry the India Office with him, which directed Townshend to remain on the defensive.174
Secondly, he also discounted all the reports of Turkish reinforcements as being ‘unnecessarily pessimistic’, and on that basis took issue with General Duff’s advice that two more divisions from England were needed in Mesopotamia to counter an ever-strengthening foe. He said:
to divert our troops from the decisive point in Flanders is to play the game of Germany and, in my humble opinion, this policy has been too often pursued during the present war to the great advantage of the enemy.175
Duff did not readily concede and summed up his position by saying that although the war could not be won in any of the minor theatres, it could still be lost. He further emphasised that the disposition of British forces was the function of His Majesty’s Government, not that of Simla. Notwithstanding that firm position, he went on to counter-argue that in order to allow HMG to focus on the principal theatre of operations in France, ‘I think we should take on ourselves a responsibility which does not rightly belong to us.’176 Duff’s convoluted thought process, illustrated here, speaks volumes.
49. Plan of the 6th Division’s stronghold of Kut. (Prepared by the historical section of the Committee of Imperial Defence. Ordnance Survey 1924)
The third of Hardinge’s positions was that his confidence in Nixon remained strong. Hardinge did concede that Nixon ‘may have made a mistake as a result of faulty intelligence but he is not a fool.’177 The reality was that the intelligence was sound, Nixon was a fool to ignore it and the appraisal of Nixon’s merit, by Hardinge, is open to challenge.
Relations between Hardinge and Chamberlain were now being adversely affected by the Viceroy’s resentment of any suggestion made by his superior, Chamberlain, in the India Office. Chamberlain did not share the Viceroy’s high opinion of Nixon and advised the Prime Minister, Asquith, that his ‘confidence in Nixon’s judgment is seriously shaken by his complete miscalculation as to the changes in Baghdad.’ He added that Kitchener (War Minister) also thought that Nixon should be replaced.178
There was no meeting of the minds away from the battlefield. Political command and control of the theatre was fuzzy at best and, in the case of Hardinge, dangerous. He had an enviable track record as a pragmatic and effective administrator; the appointment of the Viceroy was not lightly bestowed, but the management of a military campaign was proving to be challenging new ground for him to plough.
On 3 December 1915, Chamberlain wrote to Hardinge and urged him to send someone to review the medical arrangements and report on the health of the troops. ‘I beg you,’ he warned, ‘not to be content with easy assurances … we shall have no defence if all that is possible is not done.’179
Notwithstanding the undoubted experience and diplomatic skills of Hardinge, in mid-December he wrote foolishly that Ctesiphon was, ‘a blessing in disguise’. It had given the Expeditionary Force the opportunity to inflict ‘a good beating upon the Turks. Present talk that Townshend was trapped at Kut was total nonsense.’ He went on to explain to Sir Percy Cox that:
when the Commander-in-Chief and the General Staff talk of the relief of Townshend, I simply ridicule the idea that he should want relief, for with his 9,000 men he is supposed to be surrounded by 10,000 Turks and can break through whenever he chooses. It is really like one man surrounding another.180
Thus spoke the Viceroy, giving a view so divorced from reality as to be absurd. He was many miles from the theatre of operations and depended on Nixon for information. One can only presume that he had been fed, in army parlance, ‘duff gen’, and had based his opinions on entirely false premises.
The position of 6th Division in Kut was not good and getting worse. By 4 December, the Turks were intent on throwing a cordon around the town but, as yet, the encirclement was incomplete. Townshend still had the opportunity to evacuate to the south and he did, briefly, consider withdrawing further to the line of Es Sinn. He rejected that because he realised, not only did the defences there face the ‘wrong way’, but also, with massive forces at his disposal, Nureddin could outflank him. As the Turkish build-up developed and the Turkish commander moved 45,000 men into the area, breaking out became a diminishing option for Townshend. By 7 December, the investment was complete, the opportunity to break out had been missed and siege conditions now prevailed.
* * *
Charles Townshend had made his name and earned his nickname in 1895 right up on the North-West Frontier of India. There he commanded a small fort and withstood a large enemy force for forty-nine days before being relieved. His plight, and that of his garrison, attracted headlines all around the world, and the relief of Chitrál had a political impact that outweighed its military significance.
At the time Townshend was a captain in the Indian Army, aged thirty-four. Ambitious to a degree that set him apart from his fellows he had, nevertheless, demonstrated ample leadership skills and personal courage. He was an officer who could reasonably expect further advancement.
His appointment as a Companion of the Bath (CB) in 1895 changed his life forever. The CB award was almost without precedent to an officer of his rank and service. He became a national celebrity, dined with the great and the good and was feted wherever he went.
It all went to his head.
It fed his unhealthy conceit and fuelled the driving ambition that completely dominated his life. In the next twenty years he advanced from captain to major general. He was a middle piece officer who was judged by his superiors to be competent but not quite as talented as he thought he was.
Charles Townshend’s undoubted scholarship in military history, strategy and tactics should have been factors in his advancement, but a propensity to lecture his seniors on these topics did not win him many friends. Nor did the persistent way he sidestepped the military chain of command to press his demands for new appointments and, by inference, promotion. Thus far in the campaign he had performed in an exemplary manner, and the withdrawal to Kut was, in its way, a minor military masterpiece. For Charles Townshend, the scene was set and he recorded in his diary that, ‘I intend to defend Kut, as I did Chitrál.’
These were brave words; however, there was a vast difference between the two situations. In the first, ill-armed and uncoordinated tribesmen had besieged the fort at Chitrál. Food there was rationed but starvation level was never reached. Casualties among the defenders numbered about fifty, most of which were incurred on the first day. Two British relief columns, although opposed, brushed aside their adversaries in order to lift the siege.
The second case was different; a very large, well-coordinated army besieged Kut. The quality of that opposition and the magnitude of its forces make any parallels drawn with Chitrál valueless, other than the mindset of the commander. The quote that heads this chapter underscores that very point.
* * *
The man on the Clapham omnibus had been told of the triumphant march of the 6th Division and had basked in its successes. The capitulation of Baghdad was thought to be inevitable and so public expectation was high. When British forces ‘retired’ (a much more acceptable word than ‘retreated’) from Ctesiphon, it came as a shock and a scapegoat was urgently needed. Lord Crewe, speaking in the House of Lords on 8 December, said:
The early capture of Baghdad would have been a great stroke from the military and political point of view … it was a complete error to suppose that this was a rash military adventure undertaken by General Townshend on his own initiative. The advance to Baghdad was contemplated some months ago … a sufficient force had been collected to carry out the whole operation, the whole proceedings having been thought out by the Commander-in-Chief, General Nixon.181
There was no mention of the fact that HMG and the Indian Government had both endorsed Nixon’s plans. Although ownership of the strategy was not entirely that of Nixon, he was, nevertheless, being carefully eased into the firing line. It reflected no credit on the great panjandrums of Whitehall.
The upside of the debacle of the siege situation was that it finally dawned upon both governments that the campaign in Mesopotamia could no longer be run ‘on the cheap’. India scraped together two infantry brigades and three batteries of artillery and, by mid-December, they were on the high seas heading for the Gulf. The War Office ordered the diversion of two divisions, previously promised to Egypt and France, to Basra. Hardinge asked London to provide a third division and for river transport – this latter request was about a year too late; the lead-time to design, build and despatch the ships was not far short of a year.
The perceived advantage of holding Kut was control of the Tigris and of the Shatt-al-Hai. The thinking was that the British sitting in Kut prevented the Turks from using either river to attack Basra or Nasariyeh. Although the rivers were under British control, the reality was that Kut could easily be outflanked in the vast deserts that surrounded the town.
Kut was originally intended only as a staging post and supply point; accordingly, only sparse defences around the town had been built after its capture. The current situation called for comprehensive defence works, so Townshend’s men had to start from scratch.
The neck of the bend was about 1,700 yards wide and it was this line to which most assets were directed. At the eastern extremity of that line was a mud-walled building dignified with the appellation ‘Fort’. It was incorporated into the defence plan and from the fort to the river, on the west, a line of trenches was constructed. The depth of the entrenched camp from the first line to the loop in the river was 3,200 yards.
The men were utterly exhausted when they arrived at Kut on the morning of 3 December; many simply lay down and slept. As a result, it was twenty-four hours before a start could be made on building defences. It was backbreaking work but the imminent arrival of the Turks was a strong motivation to dig and lay out as much barbed wire as was available.
The map on page 127 shows that on the right bank (looking downstream) was Woolpress Village, in which was located a liquorice factory. The benefit of holding this position was that possession of both banks controlled all movement of river traffic. That said, the Turks’ riverine assets were very sparse indeed and a thrust downriver was unlikely. In December, the Tigris was about 300 yards wide and sufficiently shallow that it could be waded. At the same time, the Hai River was a dry watercourse and of no navigable use.
The decision to occupy Woolpress Village was uncharacteristic of Townshend, but he was probably influenced by the presence there of a large stock of grain. Barker said that, ‘Coming from such a brilliant tactician this seems an odd conclusion. The factory was on the ‘wrong’ side of the river and while it was necessary to hold it until the grain had been removed, it is difficult to understand why it otherwise had any advantage over many other areas on the right bank.’182
The weakness of the 6th Division’s position was that its front line was critical. If the garrison failed to defend that first line it would be driven further into the ‘loop’, into an area about 800 yards wide by a similar measurement deep. It would then be exposed to close-range, all-round fire. Those first-line defensive trenches would also impede the obvious axis for any exit in force that Townshend might undertake. At this early stage Townshend was anxious to maintain bridges across the river so that he had an option to sally out and conduct ‘an active defence’.
To Townshend’s credit, he was fully aware of ‘the fate which in history is generally reserved for the force that shuts itself up in an entrenched camp or fortified place. … If the relieving army is unable to reach the besieged force military history offers hardly any examples of the self-deliverance of an army once invested.’183
The Turks, on the other hand, had all manner of advantages, and not least of these was the very favourable ground for defence against any British relieving force. On the left bank, from Sannaiyat to Hanna, 25 miles downriver, there was only a narrow strip of land between the Tigris and very extensive marshland. This was the ground that Townshend turned to his advantage when he took Kut in September. See the map on page 147.
On the right bank, the ground was broken by old irrigation ditches, dried-up watercourses and further marshland. The Es Sinn banks taken by the British would be much more heavily populated and reinforced to face a second assault. In dry weather this was difficult going, but in the wet season it was impossible. When the Tigris broke its banks, as it had done every spring for thousands of years, the flood covered tens of thousands of square miles of desert. These floods were the most effective form of defence and any attack on the forces surrounding Kut had to be initiated before the anticipated flood.
Elsewhere, the expedition to the Dardanelles was failing in its aim and the Turks were inflicting frightful casualties on the British, French, Australian and New Zealand armies, which had barely got off the beaches. Losses at sea had also been heavy and the writing was firmly on the wall. A retirement from the Dardanelles might resolve one issue but would free a multitude of battle-hardened Turks who could, and almost certainly would, be redeployed to Mesopotamia. It was a worrying prospect.
It could be argued that in a siege situation it is the attackers who are at a disadvantage because delay gives relieving forces more time to achieve their aim. However, in this case, as in so many over recorded military history, the Turks had at hand a potent weapon.
It was – hunger.
The inevitable, forthcoming spring floods were a strategic bonus.
The first of these had engendered any number of generals to burst forth. For example, ‘The General achieves the most who tries to destroy the enemy army more by hunger than by force of arms,’ opined the Emperor Maurice in AD 600.184 He was not alone in that view, and 200 years earlier, Flavius Vegetius Renatus had commented that, ‘Famine makes greater havoc in an army than the enemy and is more terrible than the sword.’185 There is any number of similar quotations but the point does not need to be laboured.
Townshend, from his studies, was fully aware of the starvation issue and surprisingly he did not do what would have been prudent and expected of him. He did not measure his food stocks and nor did he calculate, accurately, the endurance of his command. The key word there is ‘accurately’. This oversight was to have serious consequences.
Townshend reported, on 4 December, that the parade state showed that within the confines of Kut there were 10,398 combatants, of which 1,505 were the Cavalry Brigade. There was little that the Brigade could contribute and there was insufficient fodder for its horses and so, sensibly, Townshend sent it back to Basra. That left 8,893 defenders; 7,411 of these were infantry. Townshend’s calculation was that there were 2,700 yards of trench that had to be manned and defended, and at ‘the scale of three to five men per running yard’186 he was undermanned. Defence of Woolpress Village would absorb one infantry battalion and the town had to be garrisoned in order to control the indigenous population.
Later, when Colonel Hehir gave evidence to the Mesopotamia Commission, he provided a comprehensive summary of the population of Kut on 8 December. Hehir’s numbers differ from Townshend’s, but this was just a snapshot and the status and strength of the population varied on a daily basis as people were wounded or died.
Effectives |
|
British officers |
206 |
British rank and file |
2,276 |
Indian officers |
153 |
Indian rank and file |
6,941 |
Followers (about) |
3,500 |
Total |
13,076 |
Sick and wounded |
|
British officers |
12 |
British rank and file |
258 |
Indian officers |
22 |
Indian rank and file |
1,176 |
Followers |
42 |
Total |
1, 510 |
Military ration strength 14, 586 |
|
Civilians |
|
Men |
1,538 |
Women and children |
3,803 |
Woolpress Village |
504 |
Mahiellah (boat) men |
316 |
Coolies |
64 |
Total |
6,225187 |
The figures above do not include Turkish prisoners and wounded, conservatively estimated at about 1,500. Thus there were a total of over 22,000 people, of one status or another, penned into the unsavoury salient formed by the Tigris. In addition there were 1,000 horses, 2,000 mules and ponies, and 100 bullocks.188
The cavalry brigade had decamped, but nevertheless 1,000 horses remained. This seems to be a high figure, but it has to be presumed that these were, in the main, pack animals that towed guns and carts. Officers’ mounts, say 200, were included in this number.
Men and beasts – all had to be fed and watered.
Townshend had no illusions about the resident Arabs, many of whom were openly hostile. They were a fifth column in his midst and one that, almost certainly, had concealed weapons. His first thoughts were to expel the lot. Sir Percy Scott urged restraint, pointing out that women and children would perish in the desert, either at the hands of other barbarous Arabs or from starvation. On the basis that ‘there was easily enough food for the 700 householders to last about three months’, Townshend relented and only ejected non-householders. However, he took twenty hostages as surety for good behaviour from the balance. Today, such an act would be condemned. Similarly, some might not approve of the trial of twelve men, by a military court, caught in the act of looting. They were shot – pour encourager les autres.189 War and death at Kut was all around.
The ‘Kuttites’, as they now termed themselves, settled down and waited to be relieved. Sniping and persistent shelling was the order of the day and Turkish musketry skills soon started to exact a price from those foolish enough to expose any part of their person. Edward Mousley recalled December 1915 when he wrote:
To get from [our] dugout to the town we had to cross a shell-swept zone. Every few yards there was a splash of smoke and flame. This was, of course, at the beginning of the siege. Our dugouts were near several brick kilns, themselves sufficient target without our gun flashes. We had a battery of 18-pounders on one side, 5-inch on the other and howitzers behind. So we came in for all the ranging. It was out of the question to leave any cooking utensils above ground, for they were certain to be perforated within minutes.
General Mellis, breathing fire and bluntly expressing encouragement, was a regular visitor to the first line, which was not his area of responsibility as he commanded the ‘main force’ that was held to the rear and poised to reinforce any part of the first line that was threatened. His robust personality and personal courage were an example and his soldiers would have followed him to the ends of the earth. Townshend, whose visits to the front were infrequent, reached out to his soldiers by means of his communiqués. These documents have to be read in the context of the setting but, since then, have been the subjects of considerable analysis. His first one was straightforward and ran as follows:
I intend to defend Kut-al-Amara and not retire any further. Reinforcements are being sent at once to relieve us. The honour of our Mother Country and the Empire demands that we all work, heart and soul, in the defence of this place. We must dig in deep and dig quickly and then the enemy shells will do little damage. We have ample food and ammunition, but commanding officers must husband the ammunition and not throw it away uselessly. The way you have managed to retire some 80 or 90 miles under the very noses of the Turks is nothing short of splendid and speaks eloquently for the courage and discipline of this force.
Field Marshal von der Goltz, the 72-year-old German, had by now taken his place in Mesopotamia, accompanied by a cadre of his staff officers. The Kuttites faced a particularly adept and ruthless opponent. Christmas beckoned, but from 7 December the cantonment was subjected to constant artillery fire and casualties started to mount. The encirclement was complete, as the Turks sealed off Kut with its 35th Division. Hard on its heel were the 38th, 45th and 51st divisions. At a conservative estimate, that was 45,000 men, possibly more. The British had to defeat this host if the 6th Division was to be saved.
Nureddin wrote to Townshend, pointing out that the British position was hopeless and that surrender would save many lives. He added that exposing the civilian population to danger was counter to the customs of war. Townshend replied, courteously, rejecting the offer, but did point out that Nureddin’s German comrades were expert practitioners in the matter of involving civilians in military affairs and that the reputation of von der Goltz preceded him.
The following day, news was received that the Cavalry Brigade had reached the safety of Ali al-Gharbi and that 28th Infantry Brigade had been despatched to join them there. So far so good, but the MC commented:
In anticipation of the arrival of two divisions from overseas Sir Fenton Aylmer [previously] the Adjutant General of the Indian Army was sent to take command of a force designated as the ‘Tigris Corps’ in which were to be incorporated the two expected divisions, the troops located at Ali al-Gharbi and ultimately other reinforcements. The two divisions, the bulk of which was still on the high seas, were gradually arriving at Basra, but their piecemeal embarkation and disembarkation were very detrimental to their efficiency as fighting units; the whole organisation was upset by the methods of their transmission and disembarkation, and there was no time for their proper reorganisation before advancing. The available transport in Mesopotamia was not sufficient even to carry the men and ammunition to the front and it was in these disadvantaged circumstances that military operations commenced.
That extract re-states the longstanding deficiencies at Basra where, twelve months after the arrival of the Indian Army, there were still no port facilities and the gaping void in the transport inventory had not been filled.
Aylmer was an officer of the Royal Engineers and a capable and brave man. Charlie had been engaged in the same battle in which Lieutenant Fenton Aylmer RE won his Victoria Cross in November 1891. They were both members of the Hunza-Nagar Field Force attacking the fort at Nilt on the North-West Frontier.
* * *
The minor Victorian wars of which Hunza-Nagar is typical are now, at best, footnotes to history but, nevertheless, they were vicious, uncompromising affairs. There was as little compassion on the frontier as there was in the Mesopotamian desert twenty-five years later.
In the latter stages of the assault on the fort at Nilt, Aylmer and a small party of sappers found that access to the walls was barred by a series of abattis.190 Aylmer found his way through these obstacles to a small door set in the curtain wall of the fort. The door was forced, with the loss of only one man, despite persistent enemy fire. Aylmer found cover and was able to prepare a demolition charge that he planned to place against the main doors of the fort. He lit his fuse and, under fire, ran to his target and laid his charge. After a wait it became clear that the fuse had failed. Aylmer ran back to the target doors, was wounded, but the fuse was reignited. The enemy was now fully alerted to Aylmer’s intentions and he was wounded a second time. The charge blew and the two great doors to the fort collapsed. Aylmer charged through the smoke and was at once engaged in hand-to-hand fighting.
He was wounded a third time. A company of Gurkhas arrived, stormed the breach and the fort was taken after a battle that had lasted only twenty minutes. British losses in the engagement were six killed and twenty-seven wounded; the enemy had eighty killed. Aylmer won a well-merited Victoria Cross. Four years later, Aylmer was part of the force that relieved Townshend at Chitrál. The two men were near contemporaries and knew each other quite well.
* * *
The arrival of fresh troops at Basra was to be welcomed, but their organisation thereafter was hasty. There was little time for theatre training and acclimatisation. The haste was generated by Townshend’s estimate of the time he could hold Kut and the big issue was food. On 3 December, and before a detailed inventory could be made, the commander sent a signal saying that he only had food for one month for British soldiers and two months for Indians. Relief was needed by early January 1916.
This estimate had the effect of generating a great sense of urgency but, until the divisions arrived, nothing could be done. On 7 December, Townshend revised his estimate and claimed food enough for sixty days for both ethnic groups. He could hold until early February. A further amendment on 11 December advised Nixon that he had sufficient for fifty-nine days – other than for meat. He could hold until 8 February. From there on, the British relief plan was based on an absolute requirement to take Kut by that latest date. The urgency with which relief operations were put in place impacted directly on their effectiveness, or lack of it. The artificial urgency was manufactured by Townshend for his own ends.
The one thing Aylmer lacked was time. Although it was no substitute, he was to have regular messages from Townshend emphasising the plight of his garrison and offering patronising, gratuitous advice on how to conduct his operations.
Aylmer’s Tigris Corps, when it was fully assembled, would be composed of the 7th (Meerut) Division, commanded by Major General Younghusband CB,191 and 3rd (Lahore) Division, commanded by Major General Henry D’ Urban Keary DSO.192
On 7 December there was a major Turkish artillery stonk. This damaged the defences of the fort, inflicted thirty casualties and softened up the British first line, which faced a major assault the following afternoon. Then the Turks made a frontal attack across the flat desert. There was no guile but lots of raw courage; the Turks paid a high butcher’s bill but did not breach the first line. The combined German/Turkish generalship did not excel.
Townshend was alert to the mixed blessing of the boat bridge shown on the map (page 127 with the date 8.12.15). That bridge was moved from its original position (6.12.15) because of its vulnerability near the first line. Initially, the GOC viewed the bridge as an exit from his confinement that allowed him to strike out at his besiegers, and to that purpose he had established a bridgehead with a double company of 67th Punjabis under the command of a Captain Gribbon. The Turks responded by sending a large detachment across the dry Shatt-al-Hai to capture or destroy the bridge.
On 9 December, Gribbon led an assault on the Turks who were positioned on some adjacent sand hills. He was successful but, when counter-attacked, was forced to retire back over the bridge. In the process the officer was wounded three times, and he fell and died on the right bank.
General Mellis, at his aggressive best, would have none of this and he at once re-crossed the bridge and took possession of the far end, where he established a small beachhead. However, he quickly realised that his position on the right bank was neither tenable nor supportable and reluctantly ceded control to the enemy. The Turks now established themselves at the water’s edge and commanded that end of the bridge, where they dug in. This change in fortunes raised the possibility that the Turks might mount an assault across the bridge into the very heart of the garrison. Hitherto, Townshend had identified the bridge as his route to offensive operations and had not perceived it as a potential danger.
The acceptance of its commander that the entrapped 6th Division could only be defensive was a watershed in this campaign. Hereafter, Townshend paid only lip service to the possibility that he might break out and assist those trying to relieve him. He contrived to construct a scenario in which he appeared to be prepared to break out, but by presenting sufficient difficulties, he was ordered by Nixon not to attempt a break-out. This deceit and his inaccurate forecasts of food stocks, in combination, were to cost thousands of lives. Chitrál Charlie deceived his soldiers; he gave them false hope and they believed him. Charles Townshend was a well-read student of warfare and knew full well that the writing was on the wall. He was well aware that ‘an army, which thinks only in defensive terms, is doomed. It yields initiative and advantage in time and space to the enemy … it loses the sense of the hunter, the opportunist.’193
In the new circumstances he decided that the bridge had to be destroyed at the mooring point on the right bank so that, when freed from constraint, the remnants of the bridge would be swung by the current on to the garrison’s left bank. The Turks had swiftly dug trenches overlooking the bridge and any sally against the far side of the bridge would be very hazardous. Two volunteers came forward and offered to place demolition charges at the Turkish end of the bridge on the right bank. Lieutenants Alec Mathews RE and Roy Sweet 2/7th GR took on the task of leading a mixed party of Gurkhas, miners and sappers. Chitrál Charlie wrote (p. 223) that:
this was a most gallant affair, the two officers going to the enemy’s side of the river across the bridge, which had sagged in places under the swift–running current owing to waterlogged pontoons and laying the saucisson,194 while the others stood by to cut the anchor cables. With the explosion the bridge broke up. The enemy were for some time too dazed to open fire and the whole party escaped. I recommended the two British officers for the Victoria Cross195 and the men for Indian Order of Merit.
Fenton Aylmer signalled Townshend on 10 December, saying, ‘Have assumed command Tigris line. Have utmost confidence in defender of Chitrál and his gallant troops to keep flag flying till we can relieve them. Heartiest congratulations on brilliant deeds of yourself and your command.’ Townshend replied, saying he was proud to serve under Aylmer. He may have said it but it is unlikely that he meant it.
That same day, Chamberlain wired to ask Townshend for a ‘sitrep’. He was promptly given the facts, such as ‘199 casualties yesterday and 800 sick at present’. Chamberlain was also given a short essay on siege warfare in which Hannibal, Charles XII and Napoleon all got a mention.
10 December brought with it a further serious frontal assault. It was repulsed and again the Turks suffered heavy losses, but it was not all one way; the garrison had 202 casualties. The fighting strength was further reduced and a prodigious amount of ammunition had been used.
The Indian battalions had lost a disproportionate number of their British officers, and Townshend offered a commission to any of his 2,700 British soldiers who might like to apply. W.D. Swan was one of those invitees and he recalled a conversation with a fellow Norfolk, a man called Ormiston. They agreed that the Turks gave especial attention to the Caucasian officers of an Indian regiment, and that made the offer a deal less attractive. Nevertheless, Ormiston applied, was selected and emerged as an instant second lieutenant.196
Several accounts make mention of a camel that wandered across no-man’s-land and paid the penalty. Its rotting carcass produced the foulest of odours and added to the discomfort of both sides for some weeks.
This pattern of Turkish attacks was repeated and on the 13th, the enemy again sustained dreadful losses but did establish trenches, never more than 600 yards from the first British line. The position of the defenders was that with every success there was a reduction in ammunition stocks that could not be replenished, and an increase in the load of the medical staff. Equally, the Turkish soldier’s lot was not a happy one. The officers ruled by fear and physical violence, medical support was minimal and a serious wound was tantamount to death. Even a minor wound became serious when it was inexpertly treated – or not treated at all. Food was at subsistence level and the supply chain was creaking as it sought to sustain a major force overland on unmade roads. Those trenches at 600 yards now became the base for energetic ‘sapping’ as the Turks zigzagged across no-man’s-land. However, the fort at the north-east corner of the first line was the priority target for the Turkish guns. This area was in the aegis of Brigadier General Hoghton’s 17th Brigade. He had under his command 103rd Mahrattas, 119th Indian Infantry, fifty ‘bombers’ (grenadiers) of the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry, two 15-pounders, a battery of six Maxim guns and a company of sappers and miners.
During the night of the 23rd, an artillery stonk was focussed on the fort and lasted without respite until the following morning. By then the two 15-pounders had been knocked out and most of the mud walls had been demolished, all the telephone lines were cut and the occupants of the fort withdrew to nearby trenches. When the expected Turkish assault, by their 52nd Division, was launched, its serried ranks faced the blistering fire of the remaining four Maxim guns commanded by Captain C. Stockley. The execution was dreadful but the Turks pressed on and, despite the fifteen rounds a minute discharged at them by the Indian infantry, they reached the first line. Edward Mousley recalled:
The Turk was evidently merely demonstrating on our sector and intended to attack through the fort. All our available guns in turn switched on to their Fort lines i.e. for a barrage already prepared, just over the walls of the Fort.
We increased our range and searched, getting in among the Turkish reserves all piled up and awaiting ready to support.197
Grenades were hurled into the Turkish ranks at only 10 yards’ range, but the savage fighting became hand-to-hand. Both sides used grenades, bayonets and knives. Shovels were put to a different use. The ferocity of the fight matched that at Ctesiphon and a breakthrough here could have swung the siege in the Turks’ favour. To their utmost credit, the Indian soldiers gave no ground and exacted a very high price from their adversaries. The intensity of the fighting and the carnage that ensued could not last and, after a frantic thirty minutes or so, the Turkish ranks had been reduced to small knots of men who, seeing that the day was lost, ran, leaving piles of their dead heaped in front of the British first line and all across the plain.
Among the British dead was Second Lieutenant Ormiston.
It was alleged that von der Goltz himself had planned this unsophisticated attack. If this were the case, he would have learned the same lessons as those learned by generals on the Western Front. Bravery is simply not enough in the face of machine guns.
The day was not done and shelling continued until about 2000 hrs, when the Turks tried again – this time led through the dark by ‘bombers’. The first line was breached and more murderous hand-to-hand followed. The battle was not going well and ground was being lost until, just after midnight, reinforcement arrived in the shape of the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Light Infantry. They turned the tide and, very badly bruised, the Turks withdrew.
Came the dawn and 907198 Turkish corpses littered the ground. Back in Turkish lines there must have been 2–3,000 wounded. It was a major defeat, but at a cost; British/Indian dead amounted to 315, and the bravest and best were among them. The 103rd Mahratta Light Infantry and the 43rd Ox and Bucks LI drew especial praise in the Official History for the part they played in this particular conflict. The British casualties since 3 December now amounted to 1,625 and the hospitals were overrun.
The battlefield was a gruesome sight; the Turkish wounded cried for help and when men went forward, Turkish snipers engaged them. The mercy missions ceased until dark. About twelve hours later, those Turks who could be moved without a stretcher were helped in; the remainder had to be left where they lay – and there they died, in the dark and the biting cold, abandoned by their comrades and now by their reluctant enemies.
This was to be the last major assault of the siege and the Turks now put their effort into sniping, at which they were very proficient. With their excellent optical sights they achieved kills from up to 700 yards and in one case 1,000 yards. Major Booth of the Army Signal Company organised a counter-sniping detachment, and his energy and the skill of his small body of men helped to restore the balance. Many Kuttites developed a stoop as a consequence of their exposure to Turkish sniping. But even a stoop was no defence against enemy artillery and there was daily attrition from the sporadic artillery fire.
50. The fort at Kut – the scene of savage hand-to-hand fighting in December 1915 and held at great cost. (Prepared by the historical section of the Committee for Imperial Defence. Ordnance Survey, 1924)
Unsung heroes of this siege were the bhistis (water carriers). These were Indian labourers/porters whose function was to fill vessels with water at the riverbank and deliver it to the soldiery. Any number of these people were killed as they went about their unglamorous but very dangerous business. Turkish marksmen showed them no mercy, nor did they spare the civilian women and children, sent out by their craven menfolk to draw water. The British soldiers found it difficult to admire the Arab men with whom they were incarcerated.
The weather was now brutally cold and Sergeant Munn of the Ox and Bucks LI said that he habitually wore a pair of long trousers over his puttees and shorts, a British warm199 around his body, a balaclava cap and a scarf around his head, mitts and woollen gloves – then he wrapped himself in two blankets. Quite how he could ‘stand to’ if needed, he did not explain.
Chapter notes
174 Minutes on Viceroy telegram to Secretary of State, 30 November 1915, L/P&S/10/524. Reg no. 4388 and Cabinet meeting 25 November 1915, Cab 42/5/22.
175 Hardinge to Duff and reply, both 17 December. Enclosed in Hardinge to Chamberlain 24 December, Chamberlain papers, 63 2/2.
176 Ibid.
177 Hardinge to Chamberlain, 7 January 1916, Chamberlain papers, 62/2.
178 Chamberlain to Hardinge, 9 and 16 December 1915, Chamberlain papers, 62/2.
179 Chamberlain to Hardinge, 3 December 1915, Hardinge papers, 121/No. 70, Secretary of State telegram to Viceroy, 17 December 1915, Hardinge papers, 99/No. 835.
180 Hardinge to Chamberlain, 31 December 1915, Hardinge papers. To Cox, 28 December 1915, Hardinge papers, 94/No. 155.
181 Hansard, 8 December 1915.
182 Barker, A.J., The Neglected War, p.119.
183 Townshend, C.V.F., My Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.211.
184 The Emperor Maurice, The Strategikon, AD 600. Translated by George Dennis, 1984.
185 Flavius Vegetius Renatus, Military Institutions of the Romans, c. AD 378.
186 Townshend, C.V.F., My Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.213.
187 MC Report, p.169.
188 Moberly, F.J., The Campaign in Mesopotamia 1914–1918, Vols. 1–4, p.140.
189 Townshend, C.V.F., My Campaign in Mesopotamia, p.227.
190 A barricade of felled trees with branches pointing towards the enemy, sometimes laced with barbed wire. A well-constructed abattis was impassable.
191 Later, Major General Sir George Younghusband KCMG KCIE CB (1859–1944).
192 Later, Lieutenant General Sir Henry Keary KCB KCIE DSO (1857–1937).
193 General Sir David Fraser, And we shall shock them, 1983.
194 A saucisson is a sausage-shaped demolition charge.
195 Both officers were awarded the DSO. Townshend wrote later, saying, ‘I am convinced that never has the VC been more fairly and squarely won than in the case of these two young officers. They volunteered for what appeared to be certain death and waited all day in cold blood to carry out the operation under cover of darkness.’
196 Swan, Mr. W.D., as recorded by Braddon, p.144.
197 Mousley, E.O., The Secrets of a Kuttite, p.40.
198 Barker, A.J., The Neglected War, p.124. Some unfortunate was obviously detailed to count the corpses.
199 A British warm is a very heavy, camel-coloured Crombie woollen overcoat, usually worn by officers both in uniform and in mufti.