AUGUST: SUVLA BAY LANDINGS
The success of the operation depended upon the progress made by the new troops landing at Suvla Bay. At daybreak, those of us with glasses eagerly scanned the country where we expected the Suvla troops to be. Gradually the country was searched with our glasses from right to left, finally resting on Suvla Bay itself, where we found the landing force had not advanced beyond the beach. To the best of our knowledge there was little to stop the new force straddling the Peninsula almost without opposition and it is describing it mildly to say we were bitterly disappointed.1
Lieutenant Colonel Leslie Tilney, 13th (New South Wales) Battalion, 4th Brigade, NZ&A Division, AIF
THE BRITISH IX CORPS OPERATIONS at Suvla Bay were never the main event in the August offensives and the common Australian perspective, as typified by the quote above, is simply wrong. The plan at Suvla was to secure a safe harbour and army base for future combined Suvla and Anzac operations. As such it was secondary to the ANZAC Corps operations. Although the initial plans had been diluted down from the coup de main conceived by General Sir Ian Hamilton due to the escalating caution of Lieutenant General Sir Frederick Stopford influenced by his domineering Chief of Staff Brigadier General Hamilton Reed, none the less the idea was still to seize the heights that enclosed the Suvla Plain, namely the Kiretch Tepe and Tekke Tepe ridges. The main flaw in this plan lay in its reliance on a faulty interpretation of prior intelligence reports and a failure to adapt to later aerial reconnaissance. This created an obstacle out of the dry Salt Lake, exaggerated the scale of the Turkish defences on Chocolate Hill and, perversely, underestimated the strength of the Turkish outpost on Hill 10. As a result Hamilton’s headquarters had vetoed any thoughts of a direct advance by the 11th Division from B and C Beaches to thrust either directly across or around the southern shore of Salt Lake to capture Chocolate Hill, Green Hill and W Hills. Instead the 34th Brigade was to land at A Beach on the northern side of Suvla Bay, capture Hill 10 and then send a battalion to secure the entire length of the Kiretch Tepe Ridge running along the north of the Suvla Plain. Meanwhile, the 32nd Brigade was to land on B Beach and, having first captured the Lala Baba hills north of the beach, was to move north, join with the rest of 34th Brigade and march all the way round the shores of Salt Lake to attack Chocolate Hill from the north, thereby taking the largely imaginary Turkish defences from the rear. The 33rd Brigade was to cover the right flank of the whole landing and provide the divisional reserve as required. Once the artillery and baggage of the 11th Division were safely ashore, the landing craft would be reused to land the men of the 10th Division.
Many of the senior officers of the assaulting battalions were given the chance, courtesy of the Royal Navy, to take a look at the landing sites and terrain that faced them. Among them was Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright of the 11th Manchesters.
I first heard of the projected landing at Suvla Bay a few days before the landing was made, when I, with the Brigadier and the three other commanding officers of the 34th Brigade, were sent on board a destroyer which was leaving Imbros on patrolling duty. Before we left harbour we were disguised as marines in order to prevent our being recognised as soldiers. We moved slowly along the coast of the Peninsula, from Anzac to the north of Suvla Bay at a distance of about one to two miles from the shore. We were able to see something of the land and with our maps ready we were told the plan of the landing. The Manchester Regiment were to move along the coast and clear the high ridge of hills on the north – that is, Karakol Dagh and Kiretch Tepe Sirt. As we went round the coast I tried to spot the lie of the country we had to cover. It looked very rough and the ridge to be cleared appeared to be a very strong position.2
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
With minimal knowledge of what awaited them, many junior officers, NCOs and men of the Suvla battalions were confident that they were superior to the Turks. The disasters at Helles and Anzac were flukes. This time all would be well.
The 11th Division sailed from Imbros at 19.45 in the early evening of 6 August in ten destroyers and ten ‘beetle’ lighters. The landings of the 32nd and 33rd Brigades on the long sandy sweep of B Beach north of Nibrunesi Point went near-perfectly. There was no opposition and the battalions quickly sorted themselves out ready for action. The 7th South Staffordshire and the 9th Sherwood Foresters moved off to the south to dig a system of flanking defences covering the beach landing places, while the 6th Yorkshires moved forward to attack the Turkish positions on Little Lala Baba, Lala Baba and to clear Nibrunesi Point. This would be the first attack made by a unit of Kitchener’s all-volunteer New Army and they were very raw troops. Indeed on the Western Front the New Army would not go into offensive action until the Battle of the Somme nearly a year later. Following up well behind the 6th Yorkshires was Second Lieutenant Edmund Priestman of the 6th York and Lancasters, a devoted former Scoutmaster. He could not help but be nervous as they approached the beach.
What was waiting for us? What had the first landing party found? You can picture us standing at the rail with our pulses doing tattoos as we strained our eyes into the darkness. Slowly our boat comes to a stop, and the absence of the rushing waves under her bows leaves a silence that can be felt hanging over the waters of the little bay in which we find ourselves. Only away on our right comes the distant rattle of a volley and the dull boom of an occasional gun at Anzac. So the Turkish picquet has been driven in by the Yorkshires and the land is clear. A lighter glides alongside us out of the shadow of the beach and as it draws near, ‘Crack, crack, r-r-r-r-r-rattle, crack!!!’ From among the black mounds inland a sharp crackling of rifles and then silence again. As the echo dies away over the still water all our conjectures return. If the Turks are driven back, whose is this firing? What’s happening beyond there, among the shadows?3
Second Lieutenant Edmund Priestman, 6th York and Lancaster Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
Having come ashore, they advanced up the main Lala Baba hill.
So we are nearing the introduction we have all had in our minds so long: the introduction to war as it is. As we push on, through sweet, sickly smelling scrub now, the darkness in front takes the form of a peaked hill and we meet the first slopes of its flank. And then, to our straining ears, there comes a voice from the blackness on our right. Almost inaudible at first, it swells up into a shrill, wordless whine, quavers for a moment and then dies again into silence. Then again, ‘Ah-h-h-h-h-h.’ This time it halts and inflects as though trying to frame some word, then, almost as though it would sing a few quivering notes, it sinks down the scale into the night and the shadows again.4
Second Lieutenant Edmund Priestman, 6th York and Lancaster Regiment, 32nd Brigade, 11th Division
By midnight the 32nd Brigade had a firm grip on Lala Baba. Then all urgency vanished and no push was made, as planned, to join up with the 34th Brigade for the advance on Hill 10. Firing could be heard ahead and it was considered that to avoid confusion the troops should wait until dawn illuminated the situation. Precious hours were squandered.
Meanwhile, the landing of the 34th Brigade on A Beach actually within Suvla Bay was a disaster. The men’s experiences sum up those of all the soldiers who fought in the first two weeks at Suvla Bay, so it is fortunate for future historians that the collected memories of their surviving senior NCOs and officers were collated in April 1916 to answer criticism of their performance. Seen through the prism of their memories, then, Suvla seems a far more threatening and deadly battleground than it is conventionally portrayed; their response not quite so pusillanimous and rather more pragmatic in the face of complete chaos and a threatening Turkish opposition. Their misadventures began when the ‘beetle’ lighters were brought to the bay towed by the three British destroyers Beagle, Grampus and Bulldog.
Considerable difficulty was experienced at times by the breaking away of the towing ropes and it was imminently expected by those on board that we would either cut adrift and capsize, or be wrecked against the side of the destroyer. On one occasion the rope broke away, taking with it the rail. Regarding the troops, in some cases sleep had come as a welcome relief, but in the majority of cases former gaiety had given way to anxiety as to the ultimate issue of the enterprise, especially when the orders of strict silence and no smoking were given by the commander of the destroyer. The engines of the destroyer stopped and a whisper went round that we were ‘There!’ The destroyer had stopped, the towing ropes were unfastened and we were sent forward under our own steam. The commander of the destroyer, who was standing on the bridge, wished us ‘Good Luck!’ as we moved off.5
Sergeant William Taylor, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Packed tightly aboard one of the lighters were a company of the 11th Manchesters, a further company of 9th Lancashires and the two headquarter companies. They cast off from their destroyer about a mile from shore, but as the destroyers had anchored some 1,000 yards to the south of their intended positions in the north of the bay, the lighters were heading straight for the area already identified by the navy as being likely to shoal rapidly.
Midshipman Henry Denham was aboard the small picket boat which accompanied a lighter as it chugged slowly into Suvla Bay. With his senses heightened by anxious anticipation, every sound they made seemed to echo round in his head.
Everything here seemed unbelievably quiet, and at last the destroyers let go their anchors, making sufficient noise to rouse every drowsy Turkish sentry in Suvla Bay. Our landing craft, heavily laden with troops, headed for the shore closely followed by my picket boat. Apart from the throb of the landing craft’s diesel engine the night was still and inky black.6
Midshipman Henry Denham, HMS Agamemnon
Then, as had been feared, the lighters ran aground on sandbanks or reefs between fifty and 100 yards from the shore. There was much more noise in almost farcical circumstances.
The officer in charge of the lighter gave out some orders to a junior officer who was standing at the gangway ready to lower it for disembarkation. Up to this point we were all inwardly congratulating ourselves that we had a very easy task and that we would not be discovered landing. We had a very rude awakening! The officer gave his orders in a fairly low tone, but owing to the elements they had to be repeated several times, until his voice developed into a loud bawl. He continually bawled out the name of Robertson; simultaneously with this came the enemy’s fire which seemed to come from the right.7
Sergeant William Taylor, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Whether the Turks heard the confusion and shouting, or had already been alerted by the lighters’ throbbing engines and were merely biding their time, the result was the same.
A heavy rifle fire was opened on us from our right at a range of about 200 or 300 yards and shrapnel burst over us. Then I knew that we had been taken to the wrong beach and were close to Lala Baba, about two miles south of where we should have been. We tried to take soundings with a stick, but could not reach bottom, and I was not going to disembark my men in deep water and drown them. The weight of the ammunition and kit they were of necessity carrying was such that a man would have little chance of getting ashore in deep water.8
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
They were facing a beach some 200 yards to the south of the Cut, a dried-up channel running from the Salt Lake to the sea. And there they were, packed together in the lighters, static targets well within rifle range, hopelessly stuck aground on the sandbanks. Soon they began to suffer casualties. Something had to be done. But what?
The moment the firing started we all lay down in the lighter and the bullets came pretty close; I heard several men say they were hit. We were now stuck pretty fast and a somewhat heated altercation took place between our CO and the naval commander. The latter said here we were and here we must disembark; my CO said he would not disembark at a place where every man would be out of his depth, and would probably drown. Some rough soundings were taken which varied from 5–12 feet which shows how ‘rough’ they were. As a final expedient the men were pushed and packed back in the stern to take the weight off the bows and so get off the obstruction, but this proved futile. Finally it was decided for a few men to go over the end with a rope attached to the lighter and take this to shore and that the remainder should get to shore as best as they could hanging on to the rope and pulling themselves along by it. The CO called for tall men and I being about 5 feet 11 inches stepped forward. Our Second in Command, Major Sillery, was going over first. He turned to me and said, ‘I advise you to take off all your equipment like me!’ I did so and jumped in after him. I went clean under and could not touch bottom. However, I struck out and in about 5 yards I found my depth. The CO of the 9th Lancashire Fusiliers9 followed and when we three got to the shore Major Sillery, the Colonel and I hung on to the rope and kept it as taut as we could.10
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Back on the lighter, Lieutenant Colonel Wright kept order, marshalling his men down the gangway and into the sea. It was a tricky, nerve-racking business and therefore imperative that the officers kept control of their inexperienced men, checked their fears and tried to keep them under tight military discipline. Otherwise they would soon degenerate into a rabble before they had even landed.
The majority of the men were under fire for the first time, it was a nerve trying moment and they received that kind of shock that stagnates action and they simply lay down on the deck undecided what to do, but a few words from Lieutenant Hart brought them to their senses and then all made tracks for the sea. Personally I groped my way through, my sole thought being to get away from the lighter, being under the impression that they were only firing at the lighter.11
Sergeant William Taylor, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Many of the men of the Manchesters and Lancashire Fusiliers took considerable strength from the sight of their officers struggling up to their necks in the cold water, helping them one by one to safety.
We had a warm time of it whilst we were on board as there is very little cover on board these lighters, so we had a lot of our chaps put out of action. I can tell you I said my prayers more than once. Well, the skipper dived overboard with a rope so that we could have something to assist us to get ashore, as a great many could not swim. I was one of them – so I thought my time had come! We got orders to get ashore and when I got to the bottom of the gangway our CO was in the water helping all that came off the boat. He was wounded while he was doing this, but he stuck to his guns like a hero.12
Lance Sergeant Thomas Dolan, 9th Lancashire Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
As the troops slowly struggled ashore the lighter drew less water and was washed over the offending sandbar closer to the beach, before grounding again. This time she was in an even worse position, as she was caught between the sandbank and rocks projecting out from Nibrunesi Point. The level of Turkish fire from the north side of Lala Baba was gradually increasing and Colonel Wright detached a company under the command of Major Harry Bates to deal with the threat. They moved off in skirmishing order in four platoon lines.
The order was given, ‘Fix bayonets!’ and not a shot to be fired – everything was to be done with the bayonets. All the time the Turks were firing at random at us, and we had to move very cautiously. We made a zig-zag course up the slopes of the hill under very trying circumstances, as most of our men were having their first baptism of fire and everybody dripping wet.13
Sergeant W. Jones, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
They were perhaps fortunate that the Turks were fatally distracted by the tempting targets in the lighters still trapped on the shoaling sandbanks below them.
We moved towards it in four lines quite safely as the firing was all directed towards the ship and lighter. We reached the bottom of the hill and got to within about 30 yards of the enemy trench before they realised our presence and they had scarcely fired a round at us before Major Bates gave a shout and the whole Company picked this up and charged the trench.14
Company Sergeant Major Charles MacDonald, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
The Turks were soon overwhelmed; indeed most of them evacuated their trench as soon as they saw the dark shapes charging up the hill towards them.
We had very few casualties going up, and judging from the amount of rifle fire I should say the Turks had no more than thirty or forty men on the north side of this position. On nearing the top we came across one long trench which the Turks were hastily evacuating. We cleared this with the bayonet killing about a dozen of the enemy, the remainder getting away under cover of the darkness.15
Captain Edward Hartley, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
When the over-excited men showed signs of losing discipline and charging off into the darkness after the Turks, their senior NCOs and officers intervened swiftly. It was perhaps just as well that they managed to retain order, for a minor incident then occurred which reveals the risks of changing plans even for the best of motives. Lala Baba was not the objective of the 34th Brigade, who had been landed in the wrong place, but rather of the 32nd Brigade. The confusion that ensued could have been disastrous as the Yorkshiremen charged up and across the hill.
It was a blessing that orders had been given previously that not a shot was to be fired, because the East Yorks Regiment evidently taking us for a force of Turks came for us with fixed bayonets and totally unEnglish yells. We lined up and prepared to receive the supposed enemy. The mistake was not discovered until they were on top of us. If orders had been given to fire one shudders to think of what might have happened.16
Company Quartermaster Sergeant F. L. Eaton, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
One way or another, Lala Baba had been secured.
Back on the beach, Captain Geoffrey Meugens had been charged with collecting and sorting out the other companies of the Manchesters as they slowly pieced themselves together in the sand dunes along the shoreline. No sooner had the problem of flanking rifle fire been dealt with than another emerged.
The old gun at Ghazi Baba started firing and we saw the shells going over us and bursting about 200 yards to our right front. The men I thought here were very good, lying still and trying to clean their rifles, which were soaked of course and nearly all choked with sand. Being unarmed, I picked up a rifle, but the bolt simply stuck fast and I could not open it. I gave it to a private who had lost his.17
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Meanwhile, Wright was trying to refocus on his designated mission to advance along Kiretch Tepe Ridge.
There was a good deal of firing going on and we were being peppered pretty freely from all directions, but we did not reply for two reasons: our rifles, by order, were not loaded, and we could see nothing to shoot at. I had previously given my Company Commanders orders as to the order of march, objective and also compass bearings. These latter were now of no use as we had been landed two miles south of where we should have been. We were all fearfully cold as it was a cool night, we were in thin khaki drill and soaked to the skin. The men were wonderfully cheerful and keen. We could dimly see the outline of the [Suvla] Point and Karakol Dagh, so I gave the company commanders a line to march on, more or less guessing the direction.18
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Wright was demonstrating a robust determination to push forward to secure his objectives, overcoming problems as they arose, without being deflected from the ultimate aim.
After we had gone a few hundred yards we crossed a muddy kind of dyke which I put down as the cut from Salt Lake to the sea. During the march, we were fired at a good deal from the front and flanks, but could not see any of the enemy. After about a mile or more I heard the men shouting and several screams, so I knew that they had got into a body of Turks. I could see nothing of the three companies in front, but could hear them, and was quite sure that a pretty good scrap was going on.19
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
For the less well briefed men, tramping along the beach and across the low sand hills, there seemed no logic to their movements and the persistent Turkish sniper activity tore at their nerves. It was also very difficult to maintain a coherent formation, especially when they began to ascend the foothills and then the heights of Karakol Dagh that formed the western end of Kiretch Tepe Ridge. Here they encountered serious opposition from the Turks.
Instead of two or three sentry posts we ran into several strongly held, well-entrenched picquets. I hope I am not going too far in saying that I shall always consider that the order ‘not to load rifles’ had a very disheartening effect. I know that it would have bucked our fellows considerably if they could have taken a few pot shots at the retreating enemy and brought a few down. We were discovered then and nothing was gained by silence. The whole thing was a beastly nerve-racking experience in the dark.20
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Behind Meugens’ men, R Company, having helped the 6th Yorkshires clear Lala Baba, was dutifully following on along the beach, before cutting further inland across the ridged foothills and gullies of the southern face of Karakol Dagh to catch up with the rest of the 11th Manchesters.
Once on the ridge it was exceptionally hard going. The narrow, jagged ridge was covered in prickly scrub and fell away steeply on both sides; indeed it was at times precipitous to the north. Meugens was sent to check the progress of the men advancing along the broken north face of the ridge, but on his return he made a near-fatal error.
I made a perfectly fatuous mistake. Immediately below me I saw No. 2 Platoon in line halted – they were very dimly outlined and about 50 yards in front two small groups of scouts. A good way in front of these I thought I saw bayonets flashing. I decided that these must be my Company who I had understood were pushing on and I made a bee-line for the bayonets. After a bit I got into a hollow but pushed on knowing I should come to them over the next spur. Now I was alone I began to feel extremely tired and it is to that I ought to attribute my mad act in walking over a skyline on this next spur without any precautions whatever. I was thinking about my Company and not about Turks as I did so, but I very soon woke up when I saw about 20 yards away a small trench and realised that the bayonets really belonged to a picket of about fifteen Turks. They all started yelling and firing at once and I decided to bolt for it. As I turned something hit me on my right shoulder and knocked me over. I thought then the best thing to do was to lie still and they kept it up for what seemed a horribly long time. Suddenly I heard Major Sillery’s voice calling out to the men to come on and the Turks stopped firing. I nipped back over the spur and found about a platoon of our fellows. When I had persuaded them not to bayonet me, I told them to come on and clear out the trench. When we came in sight of it, however, the Turks made up their mind to leave it. I reached the trench at one end as the last Turk left it at the other.21
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
The Turks occupied a series of both prepared and impromptu positions: sangars of piled-up rocks, natural breaks in the rock formations and narrow gullies.
As the light grew clearer we got badly sniped, officers in conspicuous uniforms being the first to suffer. Up to this time none of our rifles had been fired, and we found that most of them were badly jammed owing to their bath the night before. Another reason that we could not get a large volume of fire to bear on the enemy was the limited amount of frontage and cover on the crest of the ridge. The Turkish snipers shot very effectively – no doubt we made good targets for them.22
Lieutenant Allan Norbury, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Although wounded, and feeling increasingly exhausted from loss of blood, Meugens continued to lead his men forward as best he could.
As far as I could make out there were a lot of these trenches all over the hill and the result of our people meeting them was that though the Turks did not hold them for long, they sufficed to make our columns break up and in the dark the men got rather scattered. The time was now about 03.30 and very soon it began to get light. Our fellows were scattered all over the place in little groups and one had a great job trying to get them together. We were still being fired on, and the fire increased, while our fellows were practically all unable to return it owing to their rifles being still clogged with sand. I got someone to tie me up – rather ineffectually – and we pushed on. By the time we got up to the third line of defences it was broad daylight and the firing was very hot indeed.23
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
The bayonet might be useful at close quarters, but bullets were needed to deal with the Turkish snipers. At last they began to get their rifles working again.
Urinating on the bolts seemed to be the only way to open them, and it was a big relief to be able to fire upon the enemy, who, skilfully concealed behind the rocks and bushes, were picking off our officers and NCOs with uncanny certitude. Major Bates, our Company Commander, was wounded in the wrist and stomach, but with heroic disregard of pain and discomfort he still kept on leading us. The sun was boiling hot, and what with the heat and the salt water we had inadvertently swallowed we were suffering untold agonies from thirst. The wounded were indeed a pitiful sight, with swollen tongues and lips.24
Company Quartermaster Sergeant F. L. Eaton, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Nevertheless the Manchesters continued to press forward until they reached the junction with the main body of Kiretch Tepe, the Karakol Gap.
We were brought up by a heavy fire from the opposite side of the gap, where the majority of the Turks had collected. We could see very few Turks, as there was good cover for them in the broken ground. We were also very much worried by rifle fire from the right flank which appeared to come from the low ground, which was covered with scrub. I was unable to clear this with the men at my disposal. At this spot I lost in killed and wounded seven officers and about 50 to 60 men. I estimated the numbers of the Turks at this time to be about 300 and judging by the volume of fire, they were receiving reinforcements rapidly. We could not go on without covering fire of some sort, were in a most exposed position and the Turks had begun to shell us from two guns somewhere to our right front. It was an unpleasant situation.25
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
The attack across the Karakol Gap was made at about 10.00 on the morning of 7 August. Crucially, despite his machine gun having been dropped to the bottom of the sea during the landing, Lieutenant John Lithiby stripped it right down and achieved a veritable miracle.
Lithiby came up. He told me that he had got the machine gun close behind in working order and asked me what he should do. I told him to try to find cover on the top of the hill, to open fire on the Turkish position and that I would try to get the men across the gap under cover of his fire. Lithiby and Sergeant Pickles got the gun to the top but could find no cover. In spite of this, under heavy fire, they mounted the gun and let off belt after belt into the Turks. I was watching and saw a few Turks get up and run back and hoped more would go. Whether they did or not it was our only chance, so I ordered the advance. The officers and the whole battalion got up and walked across the gap. This sudden movement seemed to surprise the Turks as they drew back from the crest and I had very few casualties during this advance.26
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
But the Turks had merely fallen back to the next defensible point. And the further the Manchesters advanced up Kiretch Tepe the more it broadened out on either side of the sharp ridge line. Soon it became apparent that the Manchesters would be swallowed whole if they attempted to continue their advance.
I saw that we should not get far without reinforcements: the Turks were getting round us on both flanks, I had nobody to attend to my wounded, and at the rate we were going on our ammunition would not last. I wrote two messages to this effect and sent them off by separate messengers with orders to try and find Brigade Headquarters. One of them got through eventually, but was delayed through having fallen into a nullah and injured his knee. The other did not reach his destination. There were no signs of any troops on the plain and we seemed to be alone and to be gradually being surrounded. We managed to get on a bit further and were finally held up about 3 miles from the sea a few hundred yards in advance of a high point in the ridge which was afterwards known as Jephson’s Post. The officers and men behaved most gallantly and made several desperate efforts to take the next hill without success. The forward slope of the hill was without cover and under a very heavy rifle and machine gun fire, shrapnel was bursting over us from two guns on our right front and the men were worn out with hard work and heat. They were fainting with thirst as they had given up any water they had in their water bottles to keep the machine gun going. At about noon my leading companies were about half-way to the next hill – the Benchmark – and could not move, machine gun ammunition had run out, my Second in Command and two Company Commanders had been killed and a third wounded – we were suffering heavily. I was hit myself and there were no signs of our being reinforced. Anxious as we were to take the Benchmark, it was impossible and there was nothing to do but hang on as best we could and hold the ground we had taken.27
Lieutenant Colonel Bashi Wright, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Captain Meugens had struggled on as best he could having been wounded, but he was now utterly exhausted. Reluctantly, he made his way along the ridge to the beach.
We saw no British troops at all advancing on our right and our Battalion seemed absolutely isolated. It is a curious fact that we were sniped all the way down from the plain, which seemed to be alive with Turks. We found Captain Oliver there and Sergeant Hall, bleeding badly from a severed artery in the arm. There were about fifteen of us and the Turks sent about six shrapnel over and then left us in peace. Sergeant Hall’s condition was serious and we used frantic endeavours to get into semaphore communication with all sorts of boats in the bay. But the hours went on and no boat of any kind came near us or anywhere near the north end of the bay. The bay was crowded with transports loading into lighters but the lighters never seemed to move.28
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
What they could see was the Suvla plan falling apart. The three brigades of the 11th Division had been hours behind schedule when, at 04.30, the forward elements of the 10th Division appeared off Suvla Bay. It had been planned that they would land at A Beach following in after 34th Brigade and then reinforce the push along Kiretch Tepe. The shoals seemed to render this impossible so it was decided to land the 31st Brigade and half of 30th Brigade on C Beach round Nibrunesi Point and just north of B Beach, where the 32nd Brigade had landed. Here, under the overall command of Brigadier General William Sitwell of 34th Brigade, they would be temporarily attached to the 11th Division and assist in the capture of Chocolate Hill. This of course weakened the force devoted to the capture of Kiretch Tepe. More disorder followed when the navy discovered a feasible landing place at West Beach on the northern side of Suvla Bay and the other half of 30th Brigade were landed there. As the 10th Division was already lacking the 30th Brigade, which had been detached for deployment with the ANZAC Corps’ left hook, the changes in landing plans left Lieutenant General Sir Bryan Mahon’s forces split into three, with a devastating effect on command and control. The brigade and battalion commanders had no idea what to do. All these changes caused delays. Time was trickling away.
At last Captain Meugens saw the Irish troops of the 6th Munster Fusiliers beginning to land at West Beach.
Captain Oliver and I went over to see them and they turned out to be the Munsters – 10th Division. I asked their CO the time and he said 12.30. He then informed Oliver, as far as I can remember the exact words, that he had no orders what to do except to ‘Get on shore and reinforce the troops at present fighting!’ He asked the direction he should go and whom he was to reinforce. Captain Oliver then begged him to go and help the Manchesters, who were held up alone on the ridge. He agreed to do his best. At this point the sporting pinnace from the Chatham arrived with a Doctor who told us I am glad to say that he was just in time to save Sergeant Hall. The poor fellow was nearly dead through loss of blood.29
Captain Geoffrey Meugens, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
It would still take several hours before the Irish battalions of the 10th Division could organise themselves to undertake the steep climb to reinforce the Manchesters struggling on Kiretch Tepe.
About 5 p.m. the Munsters reinforced us and went through us to the attack. They lost so heavily however that we were ordered to join them in the firing line. We then advanced as far as the Pimple, part of which we occupied, but were again held up by the Turks who appeared to have been strongly reinforced. At this point about fifty of the Munsters, who seemed to have lost all their officers and most of their NCOs, retreated through us in disorder, but were afterwards sent back again by our officer.30
Captain Edward Hartley, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
In the end the Manchesters and the Munsters charged into the attack together.
We advanced in extended order down the slope on to the enemy position. Major Bates took charge of the combined Battalions, and with a cry of ‘Come on Manchesters, show the Munsters what you are made of!’ we made a charge. Unfortunately he was hit again and was instantly killed.31
Company Quartermaster Sergeant F. L. Eaton, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Major Harry Bates had already been badly wounded, but had been determined to stick it out. His grit was all in vain, for they could get no further and the Pimple remained in Turkish hands. The Manchesters could do no more: they had been fighting hard all day, and they had no water, so thirst had become an overwhelming obsession. They were replaced in the line by the 5th Inniskilling Fusiliers. When the roll calls were taken the Manchesters were found to have suffered some 215 casualties.
But what of the rest of the 34th Brigade? The other three battalions found themselves trapped in a situation that they could neither understand nor control. The 9th Lancashire Fusiliers had eventually managed to get ashore, sending out patrols towards the dried up Salt Lake and probing both flanks to try and determine their position. Just after 03.00, as the first rays of dawn filtered above the horizon, the already lightly wounded Colonel Harry Welstead and Major Cyril Ibbetson were brusquely briefed by Major Lionel Ashburner, the senior staff officer of 34th Brigade.
‘Look, do you see that hill, over there on the left? That is the hill we want – Hill 10. If you can take all the men you have got, and carry that hill between those two trees on the horizon we shall be all right, otherwise we shall probably be driven into the sea!’ We started in three lines in extended order, the men going forward splendidly, led by their Platoon Commanders, in the most superb manner imaginable, with shells and bullets coming thicker and thicker, every man being eager to get to the objective. There was a check just before we got to the foot of the hill. Then in one mad rush we carried the hill at the point of the bayonet. A terrific fire was opened on us from a fieldwork facing us, from some trenches on our right which enfiladed our position and from some guns high up in a valley above us. Realising that we could not hold this position, unless the trenches were cleared of the enemy, I ordered an attack on these trenches. There was much confusion, so I was unable to get orders to the whole of my command, but I got a good lot together and soon we took those trenches, but the casualties were very heavy and I was wounded too. I soon found that the fieldwork, which I had ignored, enfiladed to a nicety these trenches and if anybody moved he was immediately hit. I ordered everybody to make cover for themselves and attend to the wounded. Nobody was allowed to show himself. Suddenly, to our horror, we saw Hill 10 evacuated by the troops which had come up to reinforce us and we watched them retire right back in the direction from whence we had come. We were now isolated. Our casualties increased and we made a desperate fight of it for hours until the West Yorks appeared on Hill 10 again. I shall not forget that trench.32
Major Cyril Ibbetson, 9th Lancashire Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Worse still this was not Hill 10. The low hill erroneously identified by Major Ashburner was just a large sand dune occupied by a small Turkish detachment. The real Hill 10 was some 400 yards further north. The bulk of the Turkish forces in the sector were still firmly dug in and their positions had not yet been located by the Lancashire Fusiliers.
Behind the first wave of the 34th Brigade troops came the 8th Northumberland Fusiliers and the 5th Dorsets, who had been left aboard the destroyers until the lighters could refloat themselves and then get back to take them ashore. They had to guess what was happening and wait patiently; there was no effective means of communication. When the lighters eventually picked them up they were again caught on the infuriating shoals of Suvla Bay. And despite the efforts of those that had gone before them, snipers were still firing at them from concealed positions. As a result many of the Northumberland Fusiliers and Dorsets had become unnerved by their prolonged exposure to a nasty combination of tedium and danger without the compensating opportunity of returning fire, or indeed of doing anything at all. At least the navy had eventually sent small tows of boats to help land the men from the stricken lighters, but the delays just kept multiplying. When they at last arrived on shore they were met by chaos.
We had only advanced a short distance when we fell into a hopeless confusion, Lancashire Fusiliers, West Yorks and others getting mixed up with us. It was at this point I lost my Company, but pushed straight on until I came to a bog. The men I had with me were inclined to look for a way around it, but shouting, ‘Follow me!’ I waded straight through it and the others followed. It was a good job we did so for we came under cover on a sand hill. I crept up the side and saw some of the enemy trying to take some of the Lancashire Fusiliers prisoners. I called on my men to hurry up into position and open fire, having first shouted to the Lancashires to lie down, which they did. The enemy left a few dead behind them and then retired as fast as possible. We followed them up and whilst doing so one of my men trod upon a land mine, blowing him up. The force of the explosion lifted me off my feet.33
Corporal Daniel Burns, 8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
By this time the Turkish artillery had begun to fire towards the beach areas. The combination of land mines and shells was intimidating.
We came in contact with some very marshy ground, which was very difficult to pass, and on which several of our men fell wounded or killed. As I got near the edge of the marsh, I heard another explosion in front of me and to the right, which I soon learned was the bursting of a mine. Still we pushed on, and within a very few minutes there was another mine exploded close by my right side. This affected the advance, but through some encouraging remarks made by my Company Commander we kept pushing forward, until we could find cover behind a short hedge. Just then a shell dropped in front of me on the other side of the hedge and I felt something strike my helmet which carried me about 2 yards on my back. However, it was only some of the earth that had been blown up from in front, and, apart from the shock, I was little the worse.34
Sergeant Peter Thompson, 8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Hill 10 was eventually located and captured shortly after 06.00. By this time all semblance of command and control had disappeared. No one had any idea of what was happening, or indeed any apparent grasp of their objectives. Soon the orders and counter-orders began, draining the energy of the men and frustrating their officers.
Apparently we were too much to the right, because we got the order to move about 500 yards north, which we did, and then lay down extended. About an hour later, we got orders to close in to the right. During this closing in, Platoons and Companies became somewhat muddled, as some men made longer rushes than others, making for cover behind the sand dunes as much as possible. The next orders I received were from Colonel C. C. Hannay personally, who told me that we were to advance, changing direction half-right. This would bring us facing south-east towards Chocolate Hill – the original idea. When the sun had about half-risen the advance began and I found that the remainder of the Battalion in sight were swinging half-left, or towards Karakol Dagh, so I came to the conclusion that fresh orders had been issued and not reached me, so I followed suit. A short way further on I came across about 50 men of different companies, taking cover behind a large sand dune, apparently without a leader and uncertain what to do. I took charge of them and told them to wait where they were while I went round the forward side of the sand dune to see exactly what was happening and how I could best get them extended again, preparatory to continuing the advance. I had hardly gone about 5 yards when three shells landed on the forward slope of the sand dune without any appreciable effect; but by the time I went back to fetch the men I found they had scattered, evidently thinking the locality unhealthy. I collected what men I could and with them advanced towards Karakol Dagh.35
Lieutenant Donald Drysdale, 5th Dorsetshire Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
With the sun beating down on them the men became increasingly tired as they sweated uphill and down across the fringes of the Suvla Plain. With the rudimentary communications equipment available in 1915, controlling the men was almost impossible once they were out of earshot. Wireless sets were far too heavy and unwieldy to be portable and it was extremely difficult to run out and maintain telephone lines, even if it was known where they should be laid, while runners were sniped at mercilessly. Yet even allowing for this severe handicap, Brigadier General William Sitwell, now in command of both the 34th Brigade and part of 10th Division, was incompetent – in which he was typical of most of the senior officers and staff officers of the 11th Division. While the Turks undoubtedly provided a more robust defence than had been expected, nevertheless what was needed from Sitwell was a determined resolution to push ahead to the overall objectives. But paralysed by his own fear of failure and unwillingness to take a chance, he did nothing. Attacks were ordered and cancelled; troops were marched backwards and forwards and the strength of their formations was leached away to no constructive end. He was the senior brigadier general, but he constantly sought to defer to higher authority. Worse, the commander of 11th Division, Major General Frederick Hammersley, was already exhausted and unable to cope with the responsibility. He had suffered severe psychiatric problems before the war and lacked the mental resilience to wrest control of the situation in the face of his negative-minded subordinates. He too looked to a higher authority: but Lieutenant General Sir Frederick Stopford remained hopelessly out of touch offshore, aboard the headquarters yacht Jonquil. General Sir Ian Hamilton, the ultimate authority, had his eyes fixed on the Anzac breakout and at this stage was paying little attention to Suvla. The end result was a command vacuum.
All that long, boiling afternoon Chocolate Hill, Green Hill and the W Hills remained in Turkish hands. It was not until shortly after 19.00 that elements of the 11th Division joined in the attack launched by the 10th Division. Only then were the twin Chocolate and Green Hills finally captured. As darkness fell units were scattered all over the northern sector of the Suvla Plain and Kiretch Tepe Ridge.
I was separated from the Company and found myself among some of the Lincoln Regiment and, together with stragglers of the Royal Irish, a handful of the Munsters and others of the 10th Division, I took part in a skirmish and an advance against Chocolate Hill. We gained the summit of the hill and took a ring of trenches round the top of it. By this time I was thoroughly tired and slightly nervy as we had very little artillery support – all the work in that direction seemed to be done by the enemy!36
Sergeant Cyril Johnston, 8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Up on Kiretch Tepe, the 5th Inniskillings had overnight relieved the valiant 11th Manchesters.
There was no one in front of us but the enemy of whose whereabouts or number we had no knowledge and we must try to dig in, as the staff were of the opinion that we should be shelled in the morning. That night was one of the most arduous and uncomfortable I have ever spent. The soil was hard and rocky; our only digging implements were entrenching tools. We dug all night and when dawn broke had little to show for our labours. Most of the men had succeeded in digging shallow graves with a parapet of loose earth and flints, but some who had struck rocks had not even that. It was indeed fortunate that we were not shelled in the morning.37
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
The Irish troops found it indeed a harsh environment to cope with. The bare rock reflected back the heat of the August sun, baking them alive or dead as they lay in their sangar trenches. When the wind blew from the sea there was some slight relief, but on the landward side of the ridge there was no respite. All around them various insects went about their business oblivious to the war that had come to their world. Lizards scurried and even the occasional snake could be seen basking in the sun. The men, completely exposed to the broiling sun, had to make do with a pint or so of water a day. And even obtaining that was a trial.
I took a party of some thirty men one afternoon to ‘A’ Beach to draw water for the company. It was considered a great treat to be selected for these fatigues since it meant that we could have a hearty whack at the water on the beach. It took us well over an hour to cover the three mile journey. On arrival I paraded the men in front of a large iron tank the shape of a trough into which water had been pumped by a hose from a ship. Each man advanced in turn, filled the water bottles he was carrying, and then put his head into the tank to drink until he could drink no more. Of course the water was quite warm from exposure to the sun and was almost black from the dirt off the unwashed faces and hands of the countless soldiers who had used the tank. Our return to the line took longer even than the outward journey. The men weighed down with the weight of their water bottles could do little more than crawl up the rocky paths and gullies which led back to the Battalion.38
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
Many of the men suffered agonies of thirst, unrelieved by the constant sight of the salty seas from their vantage point on the ridge.
I suffered less than most, for instead of drinking my ration of water I spat it back into a small collapsible tin mug and kept rinsing my mouth at constant intervals, always spitting what remained back into the mug. Even so I must admit that I had a perpetual craving for a drink and envied the people at home who have only to turn on a tap to get as much as they want.39
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
Soon, for most of the troops at Suvla, the water shortage began to dominate their waking thoughts. Unlike Kirkpatrick, few had any concept of water discipline, of keeping some water back for possible worse shortages to come.
After turning the enemy off the hill we posted sentries and tried to get what rest we could, but we were continually being fired on and firing back on our part. At this period I parted with my last drop of water to a wounded comrade of the Munster Fusiliers and I’ll never forget how grateful he was for that drop of water – for being young soldiers they had drunk all their water earlier in the day whereas I, benefiting from other campaigns, had nursed my water, therefore not feeling the want as much as they did.40
Corporal Daniel Burns, 8th Northumberland Fusiliers, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Under the pressure the arrangements for water supply collapsed completely. Near the beach there was a breakdown in discipline as men fought to get at the water lighters as soon as they pulled into harbour. Nothing could be more counter-productive, but these men were desperate beyond reason.
Some 20 tons of water comes in and the troops, in their frightful anxiety to get at something to drink, slit the pipes conveying the water from the barge to the shore with their jack knives in order to get the first drink. Thus the barge is rendered useless and I am sent down to keep order as well as possible and see what can be done. I arrive to find a perfect Babel of chaos. Two or three engineers on the barge are struggling with the men, the intervening space between the boat and shore is thick with struggling humanity, swimming backwards and forwards and carrying strings of water bottles over their heads.41
Lieutenant Frank Howitt, Army Service Corps, 11th Division
The official history remarks insouciantly that many of the battalions had not been seriously engaged, but that does not match the perceptions of the men of the 34th Brigade in their after-battle reports written eight months later. They could still well remember the heat and thirst, the confusion, the deadly Turkish sniping, the harassing artillery fire, the aimless marching and counter-marching.
The British performance at Suvla has often been pilloried yet the brilliance of the Turkish defence led by Major Willmer is often ignored. His original defensive positions had been well chosen and his men were well briefed, fighting hard then withdrawing at the last moment to the next defensible positions. All the time their accurate sniping drained the strength from the British troops floundering in front of them. Although the British leadership was appalling, credit must also be given to the superior quality of the Turkish opposition. Whatever it may have looked like from the heights of Anzac there was plenty of fighting across the Suvla Plain on 7 August.
The race for the heights surrounding Suvla Bay was triggered by the landings. Liman reacted fairly quickly, sending one regiment from the Bulair sector when the first reports of the landings reached him at about 01.40 on 7 August. Once he was sure that Bulair would not be the focus of attack he despatched the 7th and 12th Divisions, commanded by Colonel Feizi Bey, to Suvla at 07.00. These units had already undergone heavy fighting at Gallipoli, but they gamely marched down the thirty or so dusty miles to Suvla. It was once thought that they did not reach the area until the night of 8 August, but it has now been established that the 7th Division reached a position to the east of Tekke Tepe at about 22.00 on 7 August, with the 12th Division following a few hours later.42 On arrival, Feizi Bey asked for time for his exhausted men to recover before launching a counter-attack, at which point he was (as we have seen) abruptly replaced as Commander of the Northern Sector of Anzac and Suvla by Mustafa Kemal. Yet the replacement of commander had no discernible impact on the exhausted troops, incapable of offensive action until the morning of 9 August. So the British gained another day.
The British had lamentably failed to achieve their objectives on 7 August. Perhaps that was never likely given the unnecessary complexities of their battle plan, the vigorous Turkish reaction, the British troops’ inexperience and the lack of push displayed by their generals. But there was still time. A quick reorganisation during the morning of 8 August, followed by a concentrated assault focused on seizing the rest of Kiretch Tepe, Scimitar Hill, the W Hills and the Tekke Tepe Range, could yet achieve success with time to secure the key tactical positions before the Turks could effectively deploy their recently arrived but physically fatigued divisions. But that depended on everything going right and the collapse of the Turkish opposition. When Lieutenant Cuthbert Llewelyn Allen arrived with the reserves for the 11th Manchesters on 8 August he found ominous signs all around.
I noticed General Hammersley strolling on the beach with Brigadier-General Sitwell, and his Brigade Major Ashburner. General Hammersley did not seem at all excited, but judging from appearances looked rather bewildered and worried, and I concluded all was not going well with us.43
Lieutenant Cuthbert Llewelyn Allen, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
Hammersley and his brigadiers were already broken men, unwilling to do anything but allow their troops to rest and reorganise – and their own frailties were being projected on to the men they commanded. Their priority was to consolidate what they had already captured and any meagre offensive gestures during the long summer’s day were limited to trying to forge a link across the Suvla Plain between Chocolate Hill and Kiretch Tepe. The 32nd Brigade moved forward, but, exhausted by the last two days, they found the going tough, although the 6th East Yorkshires managed to take Scimitar Hill unopposed. Nor could Mahon see much hope of further advance for the elements of his 10th Division up on Kiretch Tepe without considerable artillery support. So he too did next to nothing. By this time GHQ had belatedly become aware that the dash for the hills was stalled and a visit to Stopford from Hamilton’s Chief of Staff, Colonel Cecil Aspinall, soon confirmed that rapid executive action was needed if another day was not to be wasted.
Hamilton, whose eyes were mainly fixed on Hill 971 and Chunuk Bair, finally realised that in the case of IX Corps no news was not good news. Belatedly horror-struck at the lack of positive action he rushed over to Suvla in the late afternoon of 8 August to try to persuade Stopford to launch an attack that evening. He met Stopford aboard the Jonquil and then, after a brief consultation, rushed ashore. At about 19.00 he found Hammersley immersed in the process of planning an attack by the 33rd and 32nd Brigades on the W Hills and the Anafarta Spur for the morning of 9 August. This was not soon enough for the distraught Hamilton, who broke his usual habits to interfere directly in a subordinate’s command. He ordered forward the 32nd Brigade and the divisional pioneers the 6th East Yorkshires that very night, with the focus not on the W Hills but on the imposing mass of Tekke Teppe. Although Hamilton had the right end in mind, this was madness: there was no time for the distribution of orders; no one knew where anyone else was; it was not possible within the timeframe to get the right units in the right place to launch the attack. The 32nd Brigade was scattered across the Suvla Plain and soon runners were struggling through the night trying to sort out the disarray. Catastrophically, as part of the rushed preparations, the 6th East Yorkshires were withdrawn from their position on Scimitar Hill to the 32nd Brigade rendezvous behind them at Sulajik. It was not until 04.00 on 9 August that the advance began, led by the 6th East Yorkshires. Until recently, historians thought that one exhausted company managed to reach the top of Tekke Tepe before being ambushed by the Turks sweeping over the heights.
We reached the point where the ravine ended, and in the scrub ahead of us we saw a number of men who fired upon us. For a moment we thought they were our own, firing in ignorance. Then we saw that they were Turks. We had run into the back of an enemy Battalion which held the lower slopes against our supports. They had crossed the range at a point lower than that we had attacked and had cut in behind our climbing force. We could do nothing but surrender. When we held up our hands some dozen or more of the enemy charged towards us with fixed bayonets. The man who took possession of me searched my pockets and annexed everything of military use except my revolver, which had fallen out of my hand a minute before, when I had been knocked down by a bullet that glanced off a rock on to my leg. Of those taken with me, one was not molested; one was fired at from 5 yards’ distance, missed and quietly captured; one was beaten and fired at. Thank God the man who fired at him hit the man who was beating him and broke his wrist. The fourth, my Colonel, was bayoneted. Then, for the moment their fury ceased. I was permitted to tend the Colonel. He did not seem to suffer pain at all, only to be intensely thirsty. He drank the whole of the contents of my water-bottle as well as his own. They even allowed me to carry him on my back; and on my back the Colonel died.44
Lieutenant John Still, 6th East Yorkshire Regiment, 11th Division
Local Turkish sources, who have analysed the location of discovered fragments of British equipment, coupled with the simple lack of marching time available to the East Yorkshires after their late start, would seem to indicate that they were probably ambushed far lower down on the slopes of the Baka Baba foothills, in front of Anafarta Sagir.
This relatively minor incident has been attributed disproportionate importance – the IX Corps had tried to launch a brigade attack but proved unable to generate sufficient force to take or hold Tekke Tepe against the Turkish reinforcements. The less well publicised fate of the rest of the 6th East Yorkshires demonstrates the futility of it all.
We were supposed to attack before dawn, but owing to orders being late it was broad daylight. The attacked position had not been reconnoitred, the men were dead beat, having had no sleep since we landed, and were utterly done. We were allowed to march half way up the slope by the Turks – then received it in the neck. The Turks were strongly entrenched – we were [outnumbered] four to one. They also had a machine gun enfilading us from our left and a party of men enfilading us on our right. They had us in a trap pure and simple. The regiments that were supposed to be on our left and right flanks had gone somewhere else. We lost officers and 300 men in half an hour. Human nature could stand no more. One Company was captured all together and the rest turned and ran. I don’t blame the men for it was their first time under fire and really men could not be expected to endure it. I collected a few men and we made a bit of a stand further back, but eventually had to retire back to the reserves who were a mile and a quarter back instead of 400 yards. The staff work was damned rotten and nearly all the staff officers are incapable and inefficient. They take no interest in anything at all – if they are safe it doesn’t matter about the rest of us.45
Lieutenant Eric Halse, 6th East Yorkshire Regiment, 11th Division
When the 32nd and 33rd Brigades eventually began their move forward they were soon pressed back away from the hills and could not even recover Scimitar Hill. They had certainly tried, but they had been found wanting and had failed.
Although embittered officers such as Lieutenant Halse blamed staff officers for much of the disaster, this was not altogether fair. There had been a systemic malfunction that individuals could do little to prevent – a lamentable disintegration in the whole process of generating, issuing and carrying out orders, whether at the headquarters of IX Corps or within its divisions and brigades. Orders were issued, cancelled and reissued. The results were often vague or even contradictory in nature. There was little or no coordination between neighbouring brigades, which, having no sense of being part of a coherent plan, often acted independently of each other in a vacuum. The sheer scale of the Suvla operations and the relatively large distances involved exaggerated the communication problems, so that when it came to the further dissemination of orders to the battalions there was yet more confusion. Most received them far too late to plan their attacks properly, and some never received them at all. Also, hastily cobbled-together headquarters were staffed by officers with little relevant experience – although of course this statement could apply to most British formations in 1915, wherever they were serving, it was especially relevant to those that made up the benighted IX Corps. Almost no one knew what they were doing – not just the generals. All the Turks had to do was hold their ground.
The situation on 9 August grew increasingly threatening for the British brigades strewn across the Suvla area. Any advantage of surprise they may have had had been dissipated and it was evident that the Turkish rearguard action had achieved its aim of buying time for reinforcements to arrive. Worse still, a gap had opened in the British line in the plain and foothills to the north of Sulajik. Furthermore, as Lieutenant Cuthbert Llewelyn Allen discovered when he moved forward with his party of reinforcements for the 11th Manchesters, morale was deteriorating and there were many stragglers.
The country through which we advanced was very open, small scrub and trees being dotted here and there. These afforded excellent places for snipers and very soon we began to receive their attention. This, together with land mines, which had to be watched for and avoided, also stray bullets coming across from every direction, made things somewhat unpleasant. Heavy firing was going on to our front and on both flanks. We met a continuous stream of wounded being helped or, in the case of those who could walk, making their way back to the dressing station. One thing I noticed here was that in a great number of cases, and especially of men who were not too seriously wounded and could walk, two or three men would accompany them: one carrying his rifle and equipment and the others helping him. This meant that for every actual casualty inflicted on us by the Turks, our fighting strength was reduced by two or three men. Naturally anything of that kind had to be stopped at once and orders were given that no one, unless actually wounded, would be allowed to pass back through our lines.46
Lieutenant Cuthbert Llewelyn Allen, 11th Manchester Regiment, 34th Brigade, 11th Division
By 10 August the 10th and 11th Divisions were showing all the signs of being exhausted. Behind them the 53rd Division had begun landing on the night of 8 August but had been split up when some battalions were fed into action piecemeal on 9 August. Even worse, the 53rd Division was not really a division at all. Many of its best original battalions had already been sent to the Western Front and it had been despatched to Gallipoli without its allotted artillery – an absurd measure in a war in which artillery dominated the battlefield. Now the 158th and 159th Brigades were ordered to attack Scimitar Hill and the W Hills at 06.00 on the morning of 10 August, with neither rhyme nor reason shown in the manner of their deployment. Whatever potential the half-trained territorials may have had as soldiers was lost in attacks which took place in an atmosphere of complete disorder. One seething staff officer summed up the disaster as the battalions tore themselves to pieces on the Turkish defences:
Orders for attack at 6 a.m. received at 4 a.m. Had a frightful rush to give our orders even to the 4th Cheshires and 4th Welsh commanding officers. None of them knew where their battalions were and we never saw anyone of the 7th Cheshires at all. At 6 a.m. the attack began in a very ragged sort of way and passed through the trenches held by the 34th and 32nd Infantry Brigades. The attack progressed very slowly and there was little cohesion. It was finally held up by about 8.35 a.m. About noon the 4th Welsh bolted and rout was stopped by me and some men on our left and right. Another assault ordered for 5 p.m. in spite of contrary opinions of Brigadiers of the 159th, 34th and 158th Infantry Brigades. It was quite impossible to do any more than tell the leading line to advance at 5 p.m. and leave the rest to luck. Cowan and I had to lead the firing line. The attack was badly supported and eventually failed. The troops occupied their original trenches held by the 32nd Infantry Brigade. Failure was caused by entire lack of organisation of the attack – hurry which was quite unnecessary – exhaustion of men who had no food and worst of all no water.47
Captain Arthur Crookenden, Headquarters, 159th Brigade, 53rd Division
The result was the needless destruction of a division that should not have left Britain until it was ready for action. Given another six months’ proper training it might have become a valuable formation in the battle against Germany on the Western Front. Instead it was cast away in just a day. The 53rd Division would henceforth be regarded as ‘sucked oranges’, as Stopford put it in discussions with Hamilton on 11 August;48 a negligible force, largely discounted in the planning of future battles.
On the night of 10 August, the next division of inexperienced troops arrived for the slaughter – this time the 54th Division. They were moved forward to fill the large gaps in the British front line to the south of Kiretch Tepe. After another day had been wasted it was decided that the 163rd Brigade of the 54th Division would advance across the plain at 16.00 on 12 August to secure the ground and prepare the way for a major assault on the Tekke Tepe Range at dawn the next day. By now the story should be familiar.
We suddenly got word about 3.30 p.m. that we were to move at 4 p.m. We had no water and very little food but a little extra came along with some rum which we all took neat. I enjoyed my share. Then the advance took place, our regiment in part of the front line. Talk of the fog of war. Nobody knows what is happening on their right or left and very soon all connection is lost. Our chaps did awfully well. As for my platoon, I absolutely love them and some of my men would insist on keeping with me. Well, a group of us got to a place in the advance which we decided to organise for defence. At first there were not many of us but driblets of men of all regiments in the brigade came and reinforced us. You should just hear us cheer and wave our helmets when two machine guns came up – entirely manhandled. Although under a decent fire everybody was as cool as a cucumber, cigarettes and thirst quenchers were passed round without distinction of rank, for on the battlefield the lot of officer and man are one. Oh it was fine. I had some narrow escapes. A shrapnel shell burst above and a pellet went right through the toe of my right boot and out at the side without so much as holing my sock. A bullet also just hit my finger and drew a little blood but that was all. I did not forget to thank God for my deliverance. Well then we had to dig ourselves in to escape the effects of the shrapnel which might be expected next morning. This digging is in reality ‘scraping’ with the entrenching tools which each man carries with him.49
Lieutenant Hubert Wolton, 1/5th Suffolk Regiment, 163rd Brigade, 54th Division
In the course of the advance a small party of men of the 1/5th Norfolk Regiment were cut off, chose to fight to the death and found the Turks more than willing to oblige. It was this incident that over the years created a ludicrous legend of the ‘missing Norfolks’ who were supposed to have mysteriously disappeared ‘into a cloud’. The failure of the 163rd Brigade attack meant that the main action planned for dawn on 13 August was cancelled. Perhaps it was just as well, as none of the IX Corps divisions thrown together at Suvla were in a fit state for offensive action. If anything there was a threat that the Turks might breach the British line and imperil the whole operation. It was evident that a pause was needed before the next attack. Major General Walter Braithwaite passed on Hamilton’s orders to Stopford.
Chief has decided that he will not call upon corps to make general attack at present. Therefore you must with utmost energy reorganise your troops and consolidate your present line. Take every opportunity to make as forward a line as possible and make that line impregnable. Chief relies on you to expedite by every means in your power the process of reorganisation and the thorough preparation of trenches, communications etc.50
Major General Walter Braithwaite, General Headquarters, MEF
Of course this gave the Turks yet more time to bring up reinforcements, consolidate their units and dig trenches. But there was no alternative.
So another couple of days passed. The important questions had been answered. The major hills and ridges surrounding the Suvla Plain would be under the control of the Turks. All that now remained to be resolved was the exact position of the trench lines weaving their way across the foothills and plains below them.
The next major attack by the IX Corps would take place along the knife-edge ridge of Kiretch Tepe. At last most of what remained of the 10th Division had been reassembled, with the 30th Brigade on the northern face of the ridge and the 31st Brigade on its southern slopes. Perversely, Stopford seems to have interpreted the words, ‘Take every opportunity to make as forward a line as possible’ to mean that Mahon should launch a full-scale assault on the Turkish forces on Kiretch Tepe and Kidney Hill, which ran down as a spur from the main ridge. But what would have been a laudable initiative with some hope of success a couple of days earlier was near suicide when the 10th Division attack went in supported by the 162nd Brigade of the 54th Division at 13.00 on 15 August. The Turks had been reinforced by several battalions from the 19th and 127th Regiments.
The exact strength of the enemy was not known, but there was abundant evidence that he had recently been substantially reinforced and that the bulk of his strength was on our southern side of the hill where he was not subjected to direct fire from HMS Grampus. It was believed that his trenches were located on the near slope of Kidney Hill, but it was impossible to be certain owing to the thickness of the scrub. The preparations for the attack having been completed, there was nothing to do but to sit down and wait. In order to fill in the time the company mess had a large meal at 11 a.m. – my first on the Peninsula – out of a Fortnum and Mason hamper which had just arrived. Tinned fruit, bottled asparagus, potted meat, dates, biscuits and so on; everything was devoured with the utmost celerity. During the meal we discussed the coming attack and arranged what was to be done with our effects if we were killed or wounded. I estimated for three casualties but was hooted down as a prophet of evil. No one guessed that by evening no survivors would be left to carry out our complicated testamentary dispositions.51
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
The attack was presaged by a bombardment, the effects of which were derisory.
If the fire had any effect it must have been to warn the Turk to rise from his siesta. At 1.15 we started off at a brisk walk. My platoon was on the extreme left, that is to say the highest up and nearest to the crest on our side of the hill. In front of us the ground undulated downwards for some 200 yards; then came an even stretch of some 800 yards running up to the foot of Kidney Hill. Gullies of irregular shape and size ran at right angles to our line of advance and the ground was covered with scrub, very thick and prickly in places, whilst here and there were bare patches of sand and rock. We came under fire at once. Owing to the invisibility of the enemy it was not practicable to retaliate with rifle fire and our only course was to push on. My chief care and anxiety was to convey this to the men and to keep my platoon in line with the rest of the company. This was not so easy as it sounds. In the first place the scrub and the broken nature of the ground made it impossible often to see more than two or three men on either side of one. Secondly the rate of advance varied necessarily in various parts of the line. Whilst a section were racing across a bare sandy patch, the men on each side of them would be slowly pushing their way through dense clumps of scrub. It was only by dint of much labour and running hither and thither that it was at all possible to keep in touch with one’s platoon let alone the rest of the company.52
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
They had been advancing for about thirty minutes and had almost reached Kidney Hill, but the Turkish fire seemed to be increasing and it was at this point that Kirkpatrick ran out of luck.
Suddenly I felt a terrific blow on the left shoulder blade, as if someone had driven a golf ball into me at close range. I thought I had been shot from behind and looked round angrily for the careless fool, but I saw nobody. I was unable to go on, so I sat on the ground to examine the damage. I found that I had a puncture in front above my heart and concluded that the bullet had gone right through my lung. I had hardly sat down when I noticed that I seemed to be in an unhealthy spot and I started to crawl up the hill to my left. At once what seemed to be a heavy projectile struck me in the stomach and I sank to the ground. For a moment I felt weary and discouraged; it seemed the last straw and I thought all was up.53
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
Kirkpatrick already had two serious wounds, either of which could have proved fatal, and he was in an isolated position in the middle of a battlefield far from help. He had nothing to lose.
On further reflection I decided that it would be folly to give in and I cast about for means of escape. I remembered that our Medical Officer had warned us on no account to move if hit in the stomach, but it seemed certain death to stay where I was and I preferred to take my chance. As a preliminary I crawled into a hollow and tried to dress my wounds. The attempt was not a success, partly because my hands were shaking, but chiefly because it requires a high degree of skill to bandage one’s own chest and stomach. I managed, however, to get a little iodine into the wounds.54
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
He believed that he had been hit by a Turkish sniper whom he imagined would be watching and waiting for a further chance to finish him off. He was in a truly awful situation.
It was quite hopeless to go back the way we had come. The whole area was swept with bullets and I should have been lucky to get through even if I had the strength. My only chance seemed to be to make for the crest of the hill on my left and hope that there were no Turks on the other side. A few yards from me lay a wounded soldier of my platoon. He started to crawl back to our trenches and I asked him to get me a stretcher later, if he could. He soon disappeared and I began my slow and painful journey to the top of the hill some 100 yards away. As I crawled over the rough ground I became weaker and weaker. Sometimes a bullet would hit the sand beside me and thinking that my sniper was after me I would scurry behind a rock or bush. These sudden efforts cost me so much that I could scarcely move. Soon I discarded my precious glasses, then my revolver, this very reluctantly, but I did not feel up to carrying it. It seemed that I would never reach the top; eventually I did so and had to face the problem of getting over the sky line. It would be a dangerous operation if my sniper friend was still watching me, but I decided to try it. After a rest I crawled the last few yards very slowly, then at the last moment got up, jinked quickly to the right and scrambled over. As I did so, I fancied I heard a bullet whistle by, but in the general din I was not sure. I laid down on a soft spot and waited.55
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
Kirkpatrick was eventually picked up by stretcher bearers from the Dublin Fusiliers who carried him back to the regimental aid post.
A Sergeant looked at my wounds. I asked him whether he thought they were mortal and he cheerfully replied that they were nothing at all. I was carried through the ranks of a whole battalion of Dublins waiting to attack. I tried to say a few words of encouragement to them, but I don’t think that my ‘speech before battle’ sounded very convincing. After a short walk I found myself at a field dressing station half way down the hill in a little hollow, behind a rock. The stretcher was put down and the doctor examined my wounds. By this time I was in acute pain. A sort of violent cramp convulsed my stomach and I was unpleasantly conscious that all was not well with my left lung or shoulder. The doctor cut away most of my clothes and dressed the wounds; after which he gave me an injection of morphia and left me.56
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
The morphia did not seem to reduce significantly Kirkpatrick’s bodily pain, but he found himself drifting off into unconsciousness which provided its own relief. Then began the long and painful journey along the benighted ridge of Kiretch Tepe.
I was awakened by hearing the Doctor say, ‘He must take his chance!’ Two stretcher bearers took hold of my stretcher and carried me away. It must then have been about 5 p.m. The journey was something of an ordeal. On we went over the rough ground: sometimes a bearer would stumble, sometimes let the stretcher drop. Occasionally they would fail to clear a boulder which would hit the bottom of the stretcher. On the way I was violently sick, all over my chest, as I could not move. My wounds began to bleed again and I lay in a pool of greasy blood which covered me from my helmet to my boots. It was over an hour before I reached the beach.57
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
But he was still not safe. The beach areas were all under sporadic shell fire and the medical arrangements were strained beyond breaking point by the torrent of casualties pouring in for treatment. There was little time for the doctors to do anything but basic triage: sort those who could benefit from medical assistance from those for whom it was likely to be a waste of time. The prognosis did not look good for Kirkpatrick.
I was placed in a marquee already filled with wounded. A doctor came to look at me by the light of an oil lamp, tied a label on my coat and ordered me to be evacuated. I was carried out and placed on the beach. All around me were men on stretchers, groaning, shouting and cursing. It was now dark. A Methodist chaplain with a white shaggy mane asked me my religion. When I told him, he replied that it didn’t make much difference. 1 was getting rather short-tempered by then and said I thought he was mistaken. He shook his head sadly and disappeared.58
Second Lieutenant Ivone Kirkpatrick, 5th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers, 31st Brigade, 10th Division
But the good chaplain was wrong. Kirkpatrick was to be safely evacuated aboard the hospital ship Assaye and would survive his ordeal. Behind him the attack had spluttered out in abject failure. Initial gains by the Irish battalions on the crest of the ridge were counterbalanced by the lack of progress at Kidney Hill and, when the Turks vigorously counter-attacked on 16 August, they were able to smash them back to the old front lines. As at Helles and Anzac the front lines were not moving.
Hamilton realised the hopelessness of his position and on 17 August sent a cable to Kitchener detailing the course of operations up to that point and confessing failure. It finished up with a plea for yet more reinforcements that threw the future of the whole campaign into harsh relief.
Unfortunately the Turks have temporarily gained the moral ascendancy over some of our new troops. If, therefore, this campaign is to be brought to an early and successful conclusion large reinforcements will have to be sent to me – drafts for the formations already here, and new formations with considerably reduced proportion of artillery. It has become a question of who can slog longest and hardest. Owing to the difficulty of carrying on a winter campaign, and the lateness of the season, these troops should be sent immediately. My British Divisions are at present 45,000 under establishment, exclusive of about 9,000 promised or on the way. If this deficit were made up, and new formations totalling 50,000 rifles sent out as well, these, with the 60,000 rifles which I estimate I shall have at the time of their arrival, should give me the necessary superiority, unless the absence of other enemies allows the Turks to bring up large additional reinforcements.59
General Sir Ian Hamilton, Headquarters, MEF
It is noticeable that even this request has a caveat, showing that Hamilton had finally realised that the Turks found it far easier to reinforce their forces. Unless Kitchener responded quickly and positively then the Gallipoli adventure was drawing to a close. On the Western Front the Allies were in the throes of preparation for their autumn offensives, of which the British contribution was to be an attack on Loos commencing 25 September 1915. It is not therefore surprising that decisions were delayed and Hamilton only received an interim promise of 13,000 replacement drafts and 12,000 new troops. The writing was on the wall.
When judging the performance of the British at Suvla it is best to ignore the Australian perspective, which has been warped by their own awful trials in the August fighting and magnified by the great shibboleth of the attack at The Nek. The Australians looked down from the heights at Anzac and cruelly caricatured the British efforts as nothing more than sea bathing and drinking tea by the beaches. Some of the British units did mill about without purpose, but many others were engaged in vicious fighting against an invisible enemy who cut them down in swathes. The conditions they faced were a dreadful trial for barely trained soldiers caught up in a situation that was far beyond them. They often found themselves isolated in mere scrapes in the ground that provided minimal cover. It was too cold at night and far too hot during the day. Ravaged by a permanent thirst exacerbated by their physical efforts and the leaching effect of the cordite smoke, they were pinned down unable to move in the sweltering sun, with dust caked on their faces, their cracked dry lips black with blood. The IX Corps was thrown into battle long before it was ready, with incompetent commanders and preposterously optimistic plans which, despite the experience of the last four months, seemed to ignore the possibility of a potent Turkish resistance. And the IX Corps was not alone in its failure: the ANZAC Corps had also fallen short in its thrust from Anzac, while the VIII Corps had encountered disaster at Helles.
Above all when assessing the failure of IX Corps it is essential to ignore the self-serving assessments made by Hamilton and his senior staff officers such as Major Guy Dawnay:
Our plans all succeeded, and worked out beyond expectation satisfactorily. But the task set to the New Army divisions was, as it turned out, rather beyond their powers, owing to the fact that their officers were not sufficiently trained. It is no one’s fault – but officers can’t be made good company leaders even after nearly a year. The result was that, though the New Army divisions were not opposed by any great force, and though they had practically no artillery against them, they could not get on quickly enough, and their advance hung fire.60
Major Guy Dawnay, Headquarters, MEF
Dawnay after all had a vested interest in defending the integrity of the plan. Hamilton himself attributed failure to the combination of the incompetency of Stopford and his senior generals and the rawness of the troops that made up IX Corps. His assessment was cutting: ‘Just as no man putteth new wine into old bottles so the combination between new troops and old generals seems to be proving unsuitable.’61 From his perspective the ‘old’ generals lacked the guts and gumption that were required at Suvla. At the same time the young and inexperienced soldiers did not have the training, the knowledge or the self-confidence to push on regardless; easily dispirited, they were not tough enough to cope with the physical challenges.
As far as Hamilton and his staff were concerned they had nothing to reproach themselves about. Yet even well-led élite battalions in the peak of condition would have had trouble carrying out the operational orders issued by Hamilton’s staff in the face of the Turks’ robust opposition at Suvla. Ultimately, the plan was Hamilton’s responsibility, but he found plenty of scapegoats and there was consequently a veritable cull of IX Corps senior officers. On 15 August Kitchener gave his sanction for the dismissal of Stopford himself and shortly afterwards arranged for Lieutenant General Julian Byng to come out from the Western Front to take over command of IX Corps. In the meantime Major General Henry de Beauvoir de Lisle was to take temporary command, having been replaced at 29th Division by Major General William Marshall. Lieutenant General Sir Bryan Mahon predictably objected to the appointment of de Lisle, who was junior to him, and he was therefore temporarily replaced by Brigadier General Felix Hill in command of 10th Division. Shortly afterwards Major General John Lindley gave up his command of the 53rd Division to be replaced by Major General Herbert Lawrence, while Major General Frederick Hammersley was replaced in command of the 11th Division by Major General Edward Fanshawe. Many of the brigadiers who had been found to lack the necessary qualities of command were also replaced. There is no doubt that these changes were justified, that the incumbents had failed, but was it really fair? The ultimate architect of their failure and disgrace, Sir Ian Hamilton, remained in command of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force.
