THE TURKISH DESCENT UPON EGYPT.
Two days after the Battle of the Dogger Bank we learned that a Turkish force was advancing upon Egypt. Why were the Turks about to invade the "Land of the Nile"? First of all, because they believed that the fellahin[5] of Egypt were ready to revolt and join hands with them against the British. The Egyptians are Mohammedans, and are therefore linked with the Turks by the bond of a common religion. For three hundred years Egypt was part of the Turkish Empire.
As far back as the year 1517 Egypt became a Turkish province, and fell under the sway of the Sultan of Turkey. In 1798 Napoleon tried to found a great empire of the East, and invaded Egypt as the first step. He stormed Alexandria, and won the Battle of the Pyramids; but Nelson destroyed his fleet in Aboukir Bay, and he was forced to leave the country.
Bedouin Arabs—Advance Guards of the Turkish Army which invaded Egypt in January 1915. Photo, Central News.
The Turkish pasha who ruled Egypt soon afterwards made himself independent of the Sultan, and his successor, Ismail Pasha, became Khedive or Viceroy. The overlordship of the Sultan was, however, still supposed to continue, though it grew more and more shadowy as the years passed by. Ismail governed his country badly; and when it became bankrupt, Britain and France had to step in to protect the interests of those of their subjects who had lent money to the Egyptian Government. What was called the Dual Control was set up in 1879, and Britain and France became the real rulers of Egypt.
The Dual Control lasted until 1882, when an Egyptian officer named Arabi Pasha raised a rebellion, with the watchword, "Egypt for the Egyptians." The French were unwilling to take part in quelling this revolt, so the British had to act alone. Alexandria was bombarded, and Arabi was defeated by Lord Wolseley at Tel-el-Kebir. Thus, the Dual Control came to an end, and Britain stood alone in Egypt.
Right well has Britain borne the "white man's burden" in the land of the Nile. When she began her work in Egypt, the only notion of law in the minds of the fellahin was the unchecked will of the "strong man armed"—
"The good old rule, the simple plan, That they should take who have the power, And they should keep who can."
It has been said that Egypt requires two things for her prosperity—water and justice. Britain has given Egypt both water and justice. The laws have been reformed, and fair dealing between man and man is assured to the people. The taxes are heavy, but they are not unfair, and Egypt now pays her way. Schools and colleges have been opened, and Britain has striven with all her might to make the lot of the people happier and better.
Britain has been equally careful to give the country as good a water-supply as possible. She has strengthened and altered the great dam or barrage which was built across the Nile at the point where it divides into the Rosetta and Damietta branches, for the purpose of storing up water to irrigate the Delta regularly throughout the year. The whole canal system of the country has been overhauled and greatly improved. At Assiut, and higher up the river at Aswan, huge bars of solid masonry have been thrown across the Nile, and stretches of the river have been turned into vast lakes. These dams store up sufficient water to fill the "summer canals" of Upper and Middle Egypt. Never before has the cultivated area of the Nile Valley had a supply of water for the fields during both summer and winter. Further, by conquering the Sudan, Britain has gained control of the upper waters of the Nile.
Though Britain has done so much for Egypt, we must not suppose that all the Egyptians are content with her rule. The great bulk of the people are quite satisfied to live and flourish under British control, but there are some pashas who long for the "good old days" when the people were at their mercy. Amongst these discontented persons German and Turkish agents have long been busy, trying to bribe them to rise against the British Government. By the beginning of the war they had won over the Khedive to their side, and in January 1915 they believed that the Egyptians were ready to take up arms against their rulers. As a matter of fact, the Egyptians as a whole had no intention of doing anything of the kind. They remained quite calm, even when the Turk was knocking at their gates. Very few of them wished to bring back the old days of Turkish tyranny and misgovernment.
Another reason why the Turks prepared to descend upon the land of the Nile was that, on 17th December 1914, we announced to all the world that thenceforth Egypt was a British possession. The traitor Khedive had been deposed, and a new ruler who was friendly to the British Government had been set up in his place. Up to this time the British had recognized the overlordship of the Sultan of Turkey. Now they did away with it altogether, and the Turks saw that the last vestige of their hold on Egypt had vanished.
In January our forces in Egypt consisted of Australians and New Zealanders, Territorials from Great Britain, Indian troops, and, of course, the regular Egyptian army. The Germans thought that, if the Turks made an attack on the country, Britain would be forced to keep large forces in Egypt, and that she would therefore be unable to strengthen her armies on the Western front. For these reasons, political and military, a Turkish expedition was prepared in Syria for the invasion of Egypt. It was 65,000 strong, and was led by Djemel Pasha, who cherished a deep hatred for Britain.
To reach Egypt from Syria this force had to cross an almost waterless desert, which varied in breadth from 120 to 150 miles. Across this dreary tract of rock and sand there were three routes, all of them difficult. The first ran from El Arish, on the Mediterranean coast, to El Kantara, on the Suez Canal. It was 120 miles long, and except for a few muddy wells, there was no water on the road. If you look at the map below, you will see a road crossing the base of the Sinai Peninsula from Akaba, at the head of the Gulf of Akaba, to Suez, at the southern end of the Suez Canal. This road was the old pilgrim route from Egypt to the holy city of Mecca. It is 150 miles long, and there are but few wells by the way. From El Arish you will observe another road which strikes south, and meets the pilgrim's road about midway between Suez and Akaba. This road runs through a dry valley, in which it was possible to lay down a light railway. Only by these routes could the Turks reach Egypt from Syria.
The Suez Canal and the Sinai District.
You will notice that before the Turks could set foot in Egypt they would have to cross the Suez Canal, which could not be turned, because it runs from sea to sea. If the Turks could seize the Suez Canal they would command our short route to India, and would be able to impede greatly the bringing of troops to Europe from the East. No doubt this was another of the reasons which led the Turks to make a descent upon Egypt. So important is the Suez Canal to the defence of the country that I must briefly describe it.
The canal is nearly 100 miles long—76 miles of it actual canal, and 24 miles of dredged and buoyed waterway through lakes. In all this length there is not a single lock! The canal varies in width from 80 to 120 yards, and it is deep enough to float the heaviest of Dreadnoughts. Begun in 1859, it was completed ten years later, at a cost of £16,000,000. It is not the property of any one nation, but the United Kingdom is by far the largest shareholder: it holds 35 per cent. of the shares.
Let us follow the course of the canal. For the first few hours the canal crosses the shallow arm of the Mediterranean known as Lake Menzala. Two long parallel embankments cross this so-called lake, which is very shallow, and is studded with rocks. When this section is passed, we have the red sands of the desert to right and left of us. Side by side with the canal runs a sweet-water canal. It is a simple ditch, and its course can everywhere be traced by the grass and trees which flourish along its margin. Except for this fringe of verdure, no vegetation but desert scrub can be seen.
At the station of El Kantara there is a ferry, and here one may sometimes see caravans of Arabs with laden camels setting out on a journey across the desert to El Arish. Later in the day we cross Lake Balâh, pursuing our way between rows of buoys. Another stretch of canal follows, and we cross Lake Timseh, and see away on our right the town of Ismailia, from which a railway strikes off westwards. Then comes another long, straight channel, with high sand dunes on the left bank. We pass the signal station of Toussûm, set in a pleasing frame of trees, and two and a half miles further on is Serapeum. We now steam across the Bitter Lakes, which are said to represent an old arm of the Red Sea. After these lakes are passed we enter the last stretch of the canal, and finally reach Suez, beyond which lies the Red Sea.
During our voyage we notice that the ground to the east of the canal is very flat, and that from the deck of our ship, or from the higher ground on the western bank, we can see far and wide over the desert across which the Turks would have to advance. Just south of El Kantara, and again between Lake Balâh and the Bitter Lakes, there are sand dunes; but elsewhere there is no cover for an attacker. The defenders of Egypt thought it probable that the Turks would make their descent upon the canal along the line of the sand dunes.
By 28th January small advanced parties of Turks had crossed the desert. One party, marching by the direct route from El Arish to El Kantara, was met and driven back by Gurkhas; another party, advancing by the road from Akaba, suffered the same fate. On 2nd February the main attack was delivered by about 12,000 troops, who had marched along the valley from El Arish towards the Sinai Peninsula. When they were about four hours distant from the canal they divided into two columns, and proceeded westwards. One column moved towards the sand dunes opposite to Ismailia, while the second and much stronger column pushed on towards Toussûm. Small flanking attacks were also made against El Kantara and Suez.
Fighting at the Suez Canal, February 2-4, 1915.
The advance of the enemy had been known for some days, and our troops were in position ready to meet it. They were full of confidence, and were quite sure that the Turks would never enter Egypt save as prisoners. As the sun sank in a flaming sky on 2nd February our patrols saw the enemy moving towards the hummocks of sand that fringe the canal. When night fell, the Turks pushed their main force through the scrub and dunes towards a gap which gave them an easy road to the canal opposite Toussûm. The Turks had dragged across the deserts in carts some twenty-five or thirty galvanized iron pontoons, each weighing about 850 lbs. When they approached the canal, the pontoons were shouldered by men and carried towards the water. By means of these pontoons, and a few rafts made out of kerosene tins with a wooden frame, the Turks proposed to cross the canal.
The first warning of the enemy's approach was given by a sentry of a mountain battery, who heard voices across the water. Soon the noise increased. The Turks were loudly encouraging each other by crying out in Arabic, "Brothers, die for the faith; we can die but once," and so forth. The defenders were on the alert, but they were in no hurry to fire. They did not even pull their triggers when the invaders were carrying the pontoons down to the canal. Not until numbers of the enemy were crowded together under the steep bank, and were pushing their pontoons into the water, did the machine guns and rifles of the British begin to rattle. Then the fire was deadly; the Turks were speedily mown down, and the pontoons, riddled with bullets, were soon at the bottom of the canal.
The Turkish Attack on the Suez Canal. By permission of The Sphere.
On the night of February 2nd, 1915, two Turkish columns, numbering about 12,000 in all, moved towards the canal—the front and smaller column against Ismalia; the second against Toussûm. Our illustration shows the latter attack in progress. To the right, the Turks are seen advancing under heavy shell and rifle fire, and vainly trying to launch boats. To the left are the Punjabis resisting the attack. The Turks were driven back at this point, and an attempt to cross at Ismalia suffered a similar fate. The Turks retired in good order, and unfortunately were able to march back to Syria without much molestation.
The Turks now lined the banks, and redoubled their efforts to get across.
"They first tried to get men across by boats and by swimming, in order to hold a place as a bridgehead. Five boats filled with riflemen were rowed over; three sank with most of their occupants, and two touched the western bank. One boatload charged up the bank, but not a man reached the top. The crew of the other boat jumped into the water, and getting ashore, scraped holes in the bank with their hands to make a temporary shelter trench. Most of them were shot, and a few survivors gave themselves up as soon as it was daylight."
A little torpedo boat, with a crew of thirteen, dashed to and fro, firing point-blank at the enemy, and smashing into fragments the pontoons which lay unlaunched on the bank. The duel continued through the dark, cloudy night.
When morning dawned, the battle became general all along the canal. The enemy brought up field guns, and the British and French warships in the canal joined in the fray. A few Turks who had swum across the canal began to snipe our men from the rear, but they were soon disposed of. Those who swam across later were deserters eager to surrender.
At about eleven in the morning two 6-inch shells from the Turkish batteries hit H.M.S. Hardinge, an old Indian marine transport. One of the shells fell with a terrific crash on the bridge, almost severing the leg of Pilot Carew. He calmly looked down at his mangled leg, and, gripping the rail, shouted, "Bring me a chair. I am going to take this ship into port!" During the battle Pilot Carew received no fewer than eighteen wounds. The guns of the warships began to fire salvos, and soon the Turkish batteries were silenced.
Now that the pontoons of the enemy had been destroyed, the German commander had been killed, and the troops lying in cover had been shelled out of their hiding-places, the Turks realized that their attempt at invasion had hopelessly failed. Half-hearted flank attacks at El Kantara and Suez had been held up by our wire entanglements, and the time had arrived for our Indian troops to take the offensive. Excellent artillery and rifle fire cleared the greater part of the eastern bank, and by three o'clock in the afternoon of 3rd February the Turks were in full retreat. They had done nothing more than engage our outpost line.
Early next morning the British troops crossed the canal in force, and began the work of rounding up the enemy. Many Turks were found in a hollow, and some of them held up their hands when our men approached. As a British officer advanced to take the surrender he was shot down. A sharp fight with the cold steel followed, during which one of our officers engaged a Turkish officer in single combat and ran him through. Some 400 dead were counted, more than 600 prisoners were taken, and the total Turkish casualties were probably well over 2,000. For days following deserters drifted in, and by 8th February there was not a single Turk within twenty miles of the canal.
Unfortunately the bulk of the enemy, with baggage and guns, got away safely. A heavy sandstorm came on, and our Camel Corps were unable to follow up the beaten and dispirited enemy. Had this not happened, it is probable that the whole force would have been captured or destroyed. The Turks declared that their advance on the canal was merely for the purpose of discovering the strength of the enemy and the character of his defences. Whatever the object was, it was not repeated during 1915; Egypt remained unmolested for the rest of the year.
One incident which occurred during the fighting is worthy of special mention. An officer on board the torpedo boat which did such good work in harassing the enemy thus tells the story:—
"It was now 3 p.m., so we went back down the canal to finish off some boats which the Turks had abandoned inshore on the east bank. As the 3-pounder could not get on to these, we landed and blew up two. To get at the third boat it was necessary to go up a gully some fifty yards inland, where we could see the bow sticking up. The enemy held this bank, so, of course, we were under fire the whole time. I called for volunteers, and a sub-lieutenant and a petty officer landed with me in a dinghy. We left an A.B. in her, and darted up with our gun-cotton charge. I went ahead and got up to the boat, when I saw five Turkish soldiers on the other side about ten yards away. I stepped round the boat to have a shot at them, and fell into a trench full of Turks. You never saw any one so surprised in your life as they were, and I myself confess to a certain astonishment.
"I was too close to them to allow them to get their rifles on me, and, realizing that every second was of value, I gave one whoop and dived out of the trench. The sub-lieutenant shot a fellow who stuck his head over to pot me, and all three of us trekked back to the dinghy under a heavy fire at about thirty yards range. The Australian and Indian troops holding the west bank opened fire to cover our retreat, as did also the torpedo boat. It really seemed as if the air was full of lead—one long, continuous whistle overhead, and the sand all round flying up in spurts. I was still laughing from the comic expressions I had seen on the faces of the Turks in the trench; nevertheless, I got over the ground like a two-year-old. We had thirty yards to row to the torpedo boat, and, would you believe it? we all got aboard untouched. I did not blow up that boat, as I saw it had already been riddled with bullets from the other bank."
