HEROES OF THE LANDING.
Now that you have read an account of how we gained a foothold, and no more than a foothold, on the Gallipoli peninsula, you will agree with me that only an army of heroes could have performed the feat. All fought magnificently, but the Anzacs carried off the palm. A correspondent tells us that one man, renowned for his height and great strength, jumped into a Turkish trench and bayoneted five men one after the other, hurling each of them over the parapet as coolly and as easily as if he had been tossing hay. Hundreds of grim tales of this kind are told of the Australians' fierce onset. Wounded men who emerged from the struggle shouted to those who cheered them, "We are going to do better when we get back." They described the fighting as "a great game—the best game we ever had." "We made them run," said one Australian. "We wanted to let the Turks know what Australian steel was like, and they ran screeching and howling before us." Two New Zealanders were seen chasing eleven Turks, who fled in terror before them.
Bugler W. S. Manchip of the 1st Australian Imperial Force thus describes the desperate fighting in which he took part: "When we were near the shore a signal light flashed two or three times, but the boat I was in ran up the beach, and several of us were safe ashore before a rifle shot split the air. Then almost immediately a perfect shower of bullets fell around us. Fixing bayonets, the boys charged the hills without firing a shot until the light of the dawn was sufficient to enable them to make sure of their aim. Although I passed several dead Turks on my way forward, I only saw two who had been bayoneted, for most of them did not wait for a taste of that eighteen inches of cold steel, but ran, sniping at us whenever they got the chance, until we had them back about two miles, when we emerged from the undergrowth and broken country on to a stretch of flat land. There we were met by a perfect fusillade from thousands of rifles, and we had to take what cover we could, which was not much. After being under the withering fire of the Turkish rifles and machine guns, which were well entrenched, for nearly an hour, the enemy opened fire on us with shrapnel, and it was terrible, as we were unable to move, and men were falling around us by the dozen. . . . In the night they charged upon our trenches, blowing bugles and shouting, 'Allah! Allah!' When the order was given to 'Fix bayonets! Charge!' they did not wait for us, but fled back to their trenches. About four o'clock on Wednesday I was passing across an open space in the trench with a tin of water, when a bullet struck me in the back, cutting through my equipment, tunic, jersey, and braces. The latter, being made of hard leather, stopped the course of the bullet, and I only received a bruise on my back."
A writer in Blackwood's Magazine thus describes the landing of the K.O.S.B.'s on Beach Y: "It is no time to dwell on what might have been, but I cannot deny myself mention of the fact that we were actually on the slopes of Achi Baba that first day, thanks to the dauntless K.O.S.B.'s, who pushed through from Y Beach to Krithia almost unopposed, fought their way through the ruins on to the farther slopes—and then, owing to lack of supports, marched all the way back again under a devastating fire. In the advance the battalion's losses were small; coming back they were dreadfully punished, and at last dug themselves in on the seaward side of Krithia, to meet a force of at least five times their number." The K.O.S.B.'s, you will remember, were re-embarked and taken round to Beach W.
"'Could you have done anything else?' I asked a Scottish Borderer, as we sat in the scrub looking towards the hill, long afterwards.
"'Ah believe,' said he, 'properly reinforced in the rear, we could 'a taken Achi Baba by twelve noon on the day o' the landin'.'
"This is the opinion of a serving soldier, one of the eighty odd men still alive who won to the gently rising slopes of this formidable position, a bone in our throats for six deadly months—and there still."
Corporal J. Collins of the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers gives us a glimpse of the terrible scenes which took place on Beach W, where the men of his regiment covered themselves with glory. "In my first boat," he says, "there were thirty-eight soldiers and four sailors, and when we got near the shore the boat drifted about, so I decided to make for land. I got into the water, and, being a strong swimmer, I was able to pull one of my comrades on to my shoulder. Thus we struggled ashore. Then we stumbled across barbed wire. The sand and the water choked my rifle, and I was unable to use it when I landed, except the bayonet. We struggled through the entanglements, and made for the cliffs, while bullets were whistling and shrapnel shrieking all round us. While I was advancing a shrapnel shell whistled past my breast, tearing my ammunition pouch away, and reducing my clothes to tatters. The same shell killed some of my comrades farther in the line. Keeping on, we took the first Turkish trench."
Leading Seaman Gilligan of H.M.S. Euryalus thus wrote: "We landed the Lancashire Fusiliers, thirty-five in each boat. I shall never forget it as long as I live. It was wicked, and I, like a lot more, never expected to come through it whole. There were four boats in tow of a steam pinnace, and there was no sign of the enemy until we touched the shore. Then they opened fire, strongly entrenched above us in the cliffs, with machine guns. As soon as we touched the beach we could see the wire entanglements. The fire was terrible—just like a hailstorm. I jumped out of the stern up to my arms in water, and pushed the boat in. The sergeant jumped in front of me, and got mortally wounded. The cries of the wounded were terrible. It is without equal in this war, this landing of troops under fire. The Turks drove our men right back to the beach that Sunday night. There were 38,000 Turks, and 1,100 of our fellows held them. However, we have made progress since then, and I am proud to have had a share in it."
The Landing from the "River Clyde" on Beach V. By permission of The Sphere.
An observer on a battleship[47] thus describes what he saw on Beaches V and W: "Towards Sedd-ul-Bahr (where the forts were beginning to reek with bursting shells) I saw a transport with her nose well up the beach. This was the River Clyde, then in the act of letting loose out of her riven side those unspeakably gallant men of the Munster, Dublin, and other regiments, whom Colonel Doughty-Wylie (amongst us only the day before) led to the capture of a strong redoubt and to his death. Between us and the River Clyde, in the lee of the low, scrubby cliffs, I could make out a flag-pole and a dark cluster on the beach around it. This was the point of assembly on W Beach, now christened Lancashire Landing, to commemorate the daring of those Lancashire regiments which won through here. Gradually a movement became noticeable. The cluster spread out, took the nearest dunes at a run, disappeared—and a crackling undercurrent in the din of big guns was all that told of a fierce charge and the first trenches won. All the while the little trawlers, the tug boats, and the lighters, full of the finest soldiers, went to and fro through a deluge of bullets, which splashed the water with a hiss like the rain that comes with thunder."
The following heroes of the landing were awarded Victoria Crosses:—
Captain Richard Raymond Willis, Sergeant Alfred Richards, and Private William Keneally, all of the 1st Battalion Lancashire Fusiliers.
You have already heard of the marvellous heroism of the Lancashire Fusiliers on Beach W, and no Lancashire boy or girl will ever forget how they cut their way through the wire entanglements, notwithstanding a terrific fire from the enemy, and, in spite of unheard-of difficulties, gained the cliffs, and there firmly established themselves. Every man who engaged in this desperate struggle deserved the highest award of valour. It was quite impossible for the generals to pick and choose amongst these bravest of the brave, so the survivors were asked to elect the three of their comrades who, in their opinion, had done the most signal acts of bravery and devotion during the day of the landing. With one consent they elected the three heroes named above.
Corporal William Cosgrove, 1st Battalion Royal Munster Fusiliers.
On Beach V, where so many of the Munsters went gallantly to their death, Corporal Cosgrove showed splendid dash and spirit. Single-handed he pulled down the posts of the enemy's high wire entanglements, notwithstanding a terrific burst of fire from the enemy. Thanks very largely to the corporal's splendid pluck the heights were at last cleared.
Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Hotham Montagu Doughty-Wylie, Headquarters Staff, and Captain Garth Neville Walford, Brigade Major, Royal Artillery.
On page [253] I told you that the Dublin Fusiliers, the Munsters, and the Hampshires, who had landed on Beach V from the River Clyde, were rallied and led forward to attack the village and a redoubt on a hill inland. The officer who rallied the men was Lieutenant-Colonel Doughty-Wylie, a staff officer, who ought not to have been in the firing line; but seeing that the attacking force had lost many of its officers, he sprang into the breach. He was seen with a cane in his hand going amongst the troops and encouraging them. When they charged up the hill with the bayonet he was at their head. Unhappily he was shot down, and the Victoria Cross was awarded to him after his death. Captain Walford behaved in the same heroic fashion, and he, too, lost his life during those terrible hours.
Commander Edward Unwin, R.N.; Midshipman Wilfred St. Aubyn Malleson, R.N.; Midshipman George Leslie Drewry, R.N.R.; Able Seaman William Charles Williams, R.N.; Seaman George M'Kenzie Samson, R.N.R.
No finer deeds of heroism stand to the credit of the British Navy than those which I am now about to describe. When the River Clyde was run ashore a floating bridge of lighters was formed. The swirling current drove the lighters adrift, and the bridge was broken. Observing this, Commander Unwin left the River Clyde, and, standing waist deep in the water under a murderous fire, endeavoured to get the lighters into position again. He worked on until, suffering from the effects of the cold water, he was obliged to return to the ship, where he was wrapped in blankets. Having somewhat recovered, he returned to his work against the doctor's orders, and completed it. Later on he was slightly wounded by three bullets; but as soon as the doctor had attended to him he once more left the ship, this time in a lifeboat, to save some wounded men who were lying in shallow water near the beach. He continued at this labour of mercy, under constant fire, until he was so worn out that he could no longer stand.
Midshipman Drewry assisted Commander Unwin in the work of getting the lighters into position, and toiled on, utterly regardless of the heavy fire. He was twice hit; but even when wounded he tried to swim from lighter to lighter with a line, and only gave up the effort when he was thoroughly exhausted. An observer saw him swimming to a lighter with a line in his mouth and a wound in his head, while rocks, lighters, and boats were covered with dead and dying. When he was utterly worn out Midshipman Malleson took the line, swam to the second lighter, and made it fast, thus enabling some of the men from the River Clyde to get ashore. Later on the line broke, and he once more took to the water with another line. Twice he attempted to reach the lighter, but all his efforts were in vain.
Seaman Samson worked all day on the lighter nearest to the shore, attending to the wounded and getting out lines. At length he was badly hit, but he made a good recovery, and when he reached Portsmouth was received by the Mayor and a guard of honour. Some weeks later the people of Carnoustie, his native place, made him handsome presents at a public meeting. Seaman Samson was the first British bluejacket for fifty years to win and wear the Victoria Cross. Seaman Williams went ashore with a line, and, waist-deep in the water, held on to it for over an hour. He was fired at constantly, and at last fell riddled with bullets. The coveted badge of valour was awarded after his heroic death.
Sub-Lieutenant A. W. St. Clair Tisdall, R.N.V.R.
This gallant officer, who in his Cambridge days was renowned as a scholar and a poet, fought as an ordinary seaman at Antwerp. During the landing on Beach V he displayed remarkable heroism. Hearing the cries of wounded men on shore, he jumped into the water, and pushing a boat before him went to their rescue. With the assistance of several comrades he made five trips under heavy fire between the River Clyde and the shore, and thus saved the lives of many wounded men. He was killed in action on May 6, 1915, and his Victoria Cross was not announced until the last day of March 1916.
