CHAPTER XL
CONDITIONS IN SERBIA, GREECE, AND RUMANIA
During this time the Bulgarians and Germans were establishing a semicivil government in Serbia. Many conflicting reports were circulated, some of them to the effect that there was much friction between the German and Bulgarian officers. Whether Germany and Bulgaria really intended to make an attack on Saloniki has until now been a question, but in those districts near the Greek frontier considerable forces of Germans remained, garrisoning the large towns, notably Monastir. The forces along the frontier itself were Bulgarians at first, but toward the end of February, 1916, detachments of Germans began taking their places along the front. The Allies in Saloniki reported that up to this time there were heavy desertions from the Bulgarian forces, the deserters coming in to Saloniki, complaining that they were starved and did not wish to fight the French and British. When the Germans appeared on the front, these desertions suddenly ceased.
In the middle of January Emperor William of Germany paid Serbia a visit and inspected the captured towns and cities of most prominence. On the 18th he arrived in Nish, where he was met by King Ferdinand and Prince Boris of Bulgaria. The two sovereigns then attended Mass in the cathedral together, after which they reviewed the troops.
At a dinner which followed the emperor announced to King Ferdinand his nomination to the rank of a Prussian field marshal and presented him with the baton. King Ferdinand in turn bestowed the order for bravery on the emperor and General von Mackensen. In a speech which he made, King Ferdinand addressed the emperor with "Ave Imperator, Cæsar et Rex." ("Hail Emperor, Cæsar and King.")
During the first two months of the year the Allies had continued to reenforce their forces in Saloniki, and toward the end of February there were reports to the effect that General Sarrail would assume an offensive up into Macedonia and Bulgaria. On January 20, 1916, the ships of the Allies again bombarded Dedeagatch vigorously, then proceeded to Port Lagos and swept that seaport with a heavy shell fire. A few days later a feat, which in some respects established a new record in the annals of French aviation, was performed by an attacking squadron of forty French aeroplanes.
The French squadron left Saloniki at seven in the morning and divided into two parts, one of which proceeded to Monastir, about sixty miles distant, and the other going to Ghevgli. Some of the aeroplanes were armed with guns.
Altogether over two hundred projectiles were discharged at the enemy's camp, on the building occupied by the Bulgarian headquarters in Monastir, and on other military establishments. The airmen were vigorously bombarded in return, but sustained no casualties. One notable feature of the raid was that the squadron had to contend with a forty-mile gale from abeam during the whole trip and they had also to fly over mountains 6,000 feet in height. By noon both sections of the squadron had returned to Saloniki.
On the part of Greece there was no change; she still continued her attitude of sullen acquiescence to the presence of the Allies' troops in Saloniki. In the last week of January General Sarrail sent a detachment to occupy Cape and Fort Kara Burun, about twelve miles from Saloniki and commanding the harbor. This action, it was stated, was due to the fact that a British transport had been torpedoed by a German submarine under the very guns of the fort. As usual, Greece protested, and, again as usual, no notice was taken of her protest.
At about this same time King Constantine sent for the American correspondent of the Associated Press in Athens and asked him to make public certain statements he wished to make, whereupon he gave the journalist an interview so remarkable that when it was published it attracted world-wide attention.
"It is the merest cant," he said, "for Great Britain and France to talk about the violation of the neutrality of Belgium after what they themselves have done and are doing.... The only forum of public opinion open to me is the United States. The situation is far too vital for me to care a snap about royal dignity in the matter of interviews when the very life of Greece as an independent country is at stake. I shall appeal to America again and again, if necessary, for that fair hearing which has been denied me by the press of the Allies.
"Just look at the list of Greek territories already occupied by the allied troops—Lemnos, Imbros, Mytilene, Castelloriza, Corfu, Saloniki, including the Chalcidice Peninsula, and a large part of Macedonia. In proportion to all Greece it is as if that part of the United States which was won from Mexico after the Mexican War were occupied by foreign troops, and not so much as by your leave.... Where is the necessity for the occupation of Corfu? If Greece is an ally of Serbia, so also is Italy, and transportation of the Serbs to Italy would be simpler than to Corfu. Is it because the Italians are refusing to accept the Serbs, fearing the spread of cholera, and the Allies are thinking that the Greeks want to be endangered by cholera any more than the Italians?... The history of the Balkan politics of the Allies is the record of one crass mistake after another, and now, through pique over the failure of their every Balkan calculation, they try to unload on Greece the results of their own stupidity. We warned them that the Gallipoli expedition would be fruitless and that the Austro-Germans would surely crush Serbia.... At the beginning of the war eighty per cent of the Greeks were favorable to the Allies; to-day not forty, no, not twenty per cent would turn their hands to aid the Allies."
As for Venizelos, his voice was no longer heard. So disliked was he by the Government that when certain soldiers joined in a celebration of his name-day, fifty of them were sentenced to a month's confinement as a punishment for so expressing their sympathy. In the middle of February, 1916, this enmity was especially acute. Venizelos himself told a journalist that he was holding himself so aloof from politics that he did not even read the reports of the proceedings of the Chamber of Deputies.
But on March 1, 1916, there was a report from Athens that King Constantine had suddenly summoned Venizelos. Several interviews followed, and it was then announced that the king and Venizelos were reconciled. Whether that meant any change in Greece's policy was not mentioned. The general impression prevailed at this time, however, that the great success of the Russians in Asiatic Turkey was having its effect on the King of Greece and his Government.
Of Rumania little was heard during the entire winter, no startling changes having taken place in her attitude. In January the British Government contracted with Rumania for the purchase of 800,000 tons of wheat, to the value of about fifty million dollars, to be delivered by the middle of April.
On February 14, 1916, the Rumanian Government announced that its mobilization had been completed by the calling up of a fresh class and that the General Staff was completing the defenses of the Carpathians and the fortifications along the banks of the Danube in the new Dobrudja territory, which had been taken from Bulgaria during the Balkan Wars. Take Jonescu, the well-known Rumanian statesman, in an interview with a French journalist on the same date said:
"As regards Rumanian policy; we made a great mistake in not intervening when Bulgaria entered the war. I hope that we shall not make the same mistake again and that we shall not quail before Germany's threats, if she makes them.... The country is unanimous on this point."[Back to Contents]
PART VII—THE DARDANELLES AND RUSSO-TURKISH CAMPAIGN
CHAPTER XLI
CONDITIONS IN GALLIPOLI—ATTACK AT SUVLA BAY
We left the allied troops at the end of July, 1915, firmly established at two points on the Gallipoli Peninsula. But though they had won these secure bases by terrible losses and much heroism, yet they had progressed but slightly toward their ultimate objects—the capture of the three key points to the peninsula defenses and the opening of the Dardanelles to the fleets of England, France, and Russia.
Indeed, it had become apparent, not only to those in command on the spot, but to the authorities in London and in Paris, that the allied forces had reached a condition of stalemate on the two fronts. In other words, the Turks by their stubborn, intelligent, and brave defense had eliminated the possibility of the element of surprise, without which it was almost hopeless to expect success under the modern conditions of trench warfare.
Much as the world appreciated the virtues of the Turk as a fighting man, it must be confessed that he furnished the allied troops with an unpleasant surprise. He displayed, first of all, a quite remarkable degree of bravery, hurling himself against the intrenched troops of France and England with an abandon and a disregard of personal safety that excited the admiration of his enemies. The whole Gallipoli campaign is replete with examples of Turkish valor.
Furthermore, the Turks were well led, not only by their German officers, but by the Turkish commanders as well. Frequently they surprised and confounded the allied command in this respect, successfully foiling vital movements by daring and original maneuvers. This was all the more remarkable because it demanded cool thinking at critical moments, not the excited religious fanaticism for which the Turk had been noted. The Turk is an adept in the construction of trenches and their use.
Thus it became apparent to all that if any real success was to be obtained in the Dardanelles campaign the element of surprise must be reintroduced. Sir Ian Hamilton refused to throw away his troops in hopeless frontal attacks against practically impregnable defenses. He called upon Lord Kitchener for reenforcements, at the same time issuing an encouraging bulletin to his troops, telling them that help was coming.
These new troops, which began to arrive at Mudros about the first week of August, 1915, were not to be used for strengthening the two fronts, but were to be employed in an entirely fresh attempt to surprise the Turks at a new point, push inland before the defenders had time to bring up troops, and seize commanding positions in the first great rush. In fact it was a repetition of the attempts made at Achi Baba and Krithia at the original landings, applying the lessons learned at such tremendous cost on those occasions.
Besides the military considerations which made such an attempt desirable, the political situation in the Balkans made an allied success in the Dardanelles highly imperative. The success of the great German drive against the Russians in Poland and Galicia had had a disturbing effect upon at least one of the Balkan neutrals. Bulgaria, it soon became apparent, was preparing to enter the struggle on the side of the Central Powers and Entente diplomats reported to their Governments that nothing short of a smashing victory at the Strait would change the purpose of King Ferdinand. Furthermore, the Entente Powers were disturbed over the attitude of Greece and Rumania. It had been confidently expected that the latter country would enter the struggle on the side of the Entente Powers at the same time that Italy actively entered the struggle. Indeed, the Bank of England had made an advance to Rumania of $25,000,000, although it was expressly understood that the loan was purely a business transaction and had no political import. It was believed that Rumanian sympathy, as a whole, was with the Entente Powers, but it was known that financial, commercial, and dynastic ties with Germany and Austria were important and might at any moment, in favorable circumstances, turn the scales in favor of the Central Powers.
It had become apparent, too, that even Greece had been impressed by the success of the Germans. It was known that King Constantine, with his strong German sympathies, and especially his oft-expressed admiration for the power of the German military machine, was determined at all costs to keep his little kingdom out of the great struggle. Inasmuch as these two countries, Greece and Rumania, had been confidently regarded as belligerents on the side of the Entente Powers, even their neutrality was regarded as a blow to the Allies.
This, then, was the situation that made a dashing stroke in Gallipoli necessary. Sir Ian Hamilton prepared for it with great skill. A point called Suvla Bay, north of the base established by the Australian and New Zealand troops at Anzac Cove, was selected for the point of landing, aiming to cooperate with the force already ashore and assisted by a strong diversion aimed against the Bulair lines.
For this supreme attack, upon which so much was dependent, fresh troops were brought from England—men who had seen nothing of the fighting on any front. Indeed, it is a question for future experts and historians to argue pro and con whether or not the outcome of the attack was not due almost entirely to this use of green troops. How they were depended upon in a crucial operation, how they wavered, and the consequences to the allied operations will be told in the narrative.
Suvla Bay lies between five and six miles from Anzac Cove. It is a wide, shallow indentation forming an almost perfect half circle. Although the landing facilities were not as good as at some other points on the coast of the peninsula, it had the advantage of providing plenty of more or less open country for maneuvering, once the troops were well ashore. This was an element lacking in the case of all the other landings, and one that Sir Ian Hamilton found of vital importance. The nature of the Gallipoli country as a whole made flank attacks almost impossible, but he hoped in the case of the fresh landing to be able to avoid a direct frontal assault.
The new troops, once ashore at Suvla Bay, were to push rapidly across country, skirt Salt Lake, and carry the crest of the Anafarta Hills, a range running to something like 600 feet in height and dominating two important roads and the adjacent country, excepting the all-important peak of Sari Bair.
At the same time the Australian and New Zealand troops were to make a sudden and supreme attack upon Sari Bair itself. It speaks volumes for the confidence which Sir Ian Hamilton had in the fighting qualities of these colonial troops that he set them such a tremendous task. Since the landing at Anzac Cove, the Turks, under the supervision of their German mentors, had fortified every yard of the thousand feet of heights known as Sari Bair. An unprecedented number of machine guns had been brought up and placed in concealed positions from which it was possible to sweep every line of advance, thus powerfully increasing the volume of the infantry and artillery fire. It did not seem possible that an attack, however resolutely and bravely made, could succeed in the face of such a fierce defense.
The third element in this new attack was to be a demonstration against Karachali, on the European mainland of Turkey, menacing the Bulair lines as well as the railway running to Sofia, Bulgaria. For this purpose a number of troopships and warships carrying what was known as the Greek Legion and made up of Cretan volunteers, were to be used. It was hoped that this diversion would attract most of the available reserves in and about the Gallipoli Peninsula and make impossible the reenforcement of the troops stationed near Anafarta Hills and Sari Bair.
The fourth and last element was to consist of a determined attack upon the Turkish defenses about Krithia, pinning to that spot all the troops possible. Curiously enough the plans of the Turkish command, dominated by Enver Pasha, favored the allied troops in that the Turks had planned an attack upon the enemy on the Krithia lines about this time and had concentrated most of their available reserves near the tip of the peninsula.
This intention on the part of the Turks was undoubtedly due to the information they had received of the arrival of fresh British troops. But quickly as they pushed forward their preparations, the Allies were too lively for them. On August 6, 1915, the French and British troops advanced against the Turks and there followed some of the most determined and desperate fighting of the whole Dardanelles campaign. In the fighting the East Lancashire Division, a territorial force, did heroic work and bore the brunt of the fighting. There were many individual feats of daring and bravery, yet one stands out conspicuously. A youthful Manchester schoolmaster, Lieutenant W. T. Forshaw, held his trench against attacks for forty-five hours. For forty-one of those hours he was continuously throwing bombs and only desisted when his arm became temporarily paralyzed. When, finally, the Turks swarmed into his trench, revolver in hand he led his wearied troops and drove them out. He richly deserved the coveted Victoria Cross which was conferred upon him.
At dawn on the following day, the Australians began the attack at Sari Bair. The force at Anzac Cove had been reenforced with Indian troops and two divisions of the new troops from England. As planned, the operations at Sari Bair were to consist of an attack, first on the right, to serve as a feint, and then a main attack on the left which was to link up and support the attack from Suvla Bay, moving around in back of Salt Lake.
The attack on the right, upon what was called Lone Pine Plateau, was a dispiriting failure on the opening day. The dismounted troops of the Third Australian Light Horse, a magnificent body of men, were sent forward to storm the elaborate trenches of the enemy. The attack was made in three lines. The first was mowed down to a man; of the second only a few survivors reached the Turkish trenches to be either captured or killed; the third was stopped by a change of orders just as it was about to follow the other two into the valley of sure death.
On the following day, the 8th, the main Australian infantry forces were sent forward against the same trenches and, after some bloody fighting, succeeded in capturing and holding them against repeated counterattacks.
While this holding operation was in progress the main attack was being made on the left. New Zealand and Australian troops, supported by a picked force of Indian hillmen, used to night warfare and campaigning in difficult mountain country, starting in the evening of August 6, 1915, made a rapid march along the coast as far as Fisherman's Hut. There large quantities of stores had been gradually accumulated in preparation for this very movement.
At Fisherman's Hut the force, numbering 6,000 men, under the command of Major General Sir A. J. Godley, turned sharply inland and just before dawn, almost without the knowledge of the Turkish defenders, had arrived within half a mile of one of the dominating hills on the right flank of the vitally important Sari Bair.
At this point Godley's force was split into three columns. One composed of Australian troops, was based on Asma Dere, almost within touch of Suvla Bay. The Indian troops were within striking distance of Chunuk Bair, close to the towering peak of Koja Chemen, rising sharply to almost 1,000 feet, while the New Zealanders were within striking distance of Rhododendron Ridge.
With the dawn of August 7, 1915, the Turks awoke to the seriousness of the new menace. So difficult was the country in which the British troops were operating that the Ottoman commander had dismissed all idea of a serious attack from that point and had merely posted patrols in the hills guarding the flank of Sari Bair. Now, however, reserves were hurried to the scene, and so rapidly and in such large numbers did they arrive that the troops from Anzac were soon compelled to dig themselves in in an attempt to hold what they had won by their surprise march.
Early on the morning of August 8, 1915, the Australians moved out from Asma Dere. They had as an objective a near-by hill from which it was proposed to storm the height known as Koja Chemen. Unfortunately for their plan, the Turks by this time had brought up such forces that the Australians were outnumbered. They had not proceeded far before they discovered that they were being rapidly encircled. A retreat was immediately decided upon and so closely were they followed by the Turks that the British troops had difficulty even in holding their original position at Asma Dere.
Meanwhile the New Zealanders were having more success. Carrying full kit, food, and water, these splendid colonials clambered up the steep sides of Rhododendron Ridge, swept the Turks from the crest and charged up the southwestern slope of the main peak of Sari Bair. There they dug in and fought desperately to hold their advantage against successive waves of Turkish infantry that came charging down upon them.
At the same time the Indian troops gained some fresh ground in the neighborhood of Hill Q.
During the night of August 8, 1915, and the early morning of the following day, the officers of the British forces who had survived the fighting reorganized the scattered remnants and prepared for a fresh advance. About midnight reenforcements arrived at all three bases and were hurried forward to relieve as much as possible the exhausted men in the firing line.
Just as dawn was breaking on August 9, 1915, word was passed along the lines that a supreme effort was to be made to carry the heights that barred the allied troops from a great victory. British and French warships posted close inshore and in wireless touch with the troops opened an intense bombardment of the Chunuk Bair, Hill Q, and Koja Chemen. Then the whistles blew, the infantry leaped out of its shallow trenches and, with a yell that echoed and reechoed through the Gallipoli hills, charged up the precipitous slopes.
Of the three columns, the greatest success was gained by the Indians. Led by the hardy Gurkhas, they actually reached the crest of Hill Q and looked down on the much-to-be-desired Strait, bathed in the hot August sunshine.
The Turkish command full well realized the importance of this position, and immediately guns from every angle were turned on the Indian troops and the New Zealanders who were supporting them on the left. A hurricane of shells was poured on the troops before they had time to dig themselves in. A few seconds later a counterattack was launched in such force against the New Zealanders that they and the Indians were swept down the slopes of Sari Bair.
By nightfall of August 8, 1915, the few Turkish patrols in the district had been driven off and considerable forces of the British troops had made their way inland. Splitting into two columns, one moved north and seized Karakol Bagh; the other and larger force marched across the low country until it had arrived in position facing the Anafarta Ridge, its objective.
Lying between the line of advance from Suvla Bay to the Anafarta Ridge and Asma Dere, the base of the Australian troops operating against Sari Bair, were a number of hills, two of which played supremely important parts in the fighting of the next few days. They have been called Chocolate Hill and Burnt Hill.
It was in an action against Chocolate Hill that the battle opened. Moving in a night attack on August 8, 1915, Irish troops stormed Chocolate Hill and came within measurable distance of connecting up with the Australian division. Then preparations were made for an attack upon the Anafarta Ridge.
On August 11, 1915, the right wing of the forces landed at Suvla Bay succeeded in working along the coast and linking up with the Australians at Asma Dere. They brought with them to the hard-hitting Colonials the first word of the progress of the Anafarta operation, and it was a bitter disappointment to the latter to learn that their heroic efforts against Sari Bair had been largely made in vain because of the failure of the Suvla Bay force to accomplish its task.
Both sides then busied themselves preparing for the new warfare in this region. The British consolidated their positions, and on August 15, 1915, sent forward the same Irish division that had captured Chocolate Hill in an attempt to rush Dublin Hill. After a hand-to-hand fight with the Turkish troops, who swarmed out of their trenches to meet the charging Irishmen, the hill was won.
The Turks, meanwhile, were strongly fortifying not only the Anafarta Ridge proper but some of the hills commanding its left flank. Here Hill 70 and Hill 112 were the major positions, and on August 21, 1915, the British troops moved out in an effort to capture them.
A portion of the British troops succeeded in reaching the top of Hill 70. There, however, they were greeted by a terrible fire from a battery concealed on Hill 112 and forced to fall back, first to the lower slopes of the hill and then, when the fire slackened, to their original intrenched positions.
Even less success was enjoyed by the troops making the assault upon Hill 112. The Turkish artillery poured a curtain of fire among the shrubs at the foot of the hill which effectively prevented the proposed advance. Farther to the south at the same time the Australians were attacking Hill 60 of the Sari Bair group and succeeded in driving the Turkish defenders from its crest.[Back to Contents]
PART VIII—AGGRESSIVE TURKISH CAMPAIGN AT DARDANELLES
CHAPTER XLII
SARI BAIR—PARTIAL WITHDRAWAL OF ALLIES
Thus practically ended the Suvla Bay operation and its supporting movements. Much had been expected of it and, by the barest margin, in the opinion of many competent military men, great results had been missed. Just what ultimate effect its success in this operation would have had on the Gallipoli campaign, on the position of Turkey in the war and, finally, upon the course of the war as a whole, it is obviously impossible to say. There are those who claim that the capture of Constantinople would have brought the struggle to a quick and disastrous end from the viewpoint of the Central Powers. There are others, equally entitled by experience and knowledge to speak, who claim that it would have had no appreciable influence on the final result. And there is a third body of critics of opinion that the capture of Constantinople would have been a disaster for the Allies, inasmuch as it would have opened up vast questions of age-long standing that would have led to wide dissension between England, Russia, and France.
There is another and no less interesting phase of the Suvla Bay operation that will one day be studied with care. In this crucial attack a reliance was placed upon raw troops who had seen little or no actual fighting. It was, in a way, an attempt to prove that patriotic youths, rallying to the colors at their country's need, although without previous training, could in a few months be made more than a match for the obligatory military service troops of the Continental system.
Some extremely interesting details of the preparation for the landing at Suvla Bay have been given by a correspondent who was permitted to be present, but who, like all except a few officers of General Ian Hamilton's immediate staff, was kept in absolute ignorance of the exact location of the spot selected.
"It has long been obvious that some new landing on a vast scale was about to be attempted," he wrote, "and surmise has therefore been rife as to the exact point on which the blow would fall. It was hoped to take the Turk completely by surprise, and to obtain a firm foothold on the shore before he could bring up his reenforcements. In this it would seem as if we have been successful, for two divisions were yesterday (August 7, 1915) put ashore almost without opposition. The enemy probably had accurate knowledge of the arrival of large reenforcements, for it is almost impossible to keep movements of troops unknown in the Near East, and his airmen have frequently flown over our camps. He knew, therefore, we were preparing to strike, but on the vital point as to where the blow would fall he seems to have been entirely ignorant.
"No one who has not seen a landing of a large army on a hostile shore can have any idea of the enormous amount of preparation work and rehearsal which must precede any such movement. For three weeks this has been going on incessantly.
"For many days past a division has been practicing embarking and disembarking until every officer and every man knew the exact rôle he had to play.
"On the morning of August 6, 1915, I was told to hold myself in readiness to embark that evening for an unknown destination, which would not be disclosed to me until after I got on board the transport. There was general rejoicing among the troops when it became known that the period of preparation was at length passed and that the hour for action had at last arrived.
"Throughout the whole of August 6, 1915, the work of embarking proceeded without a stop. Dense masses of fully equipped infantry, each carrying two days' rations, and tin dishes strapped on their knapsacks, moved down to the quay and were there embarked. The troops seemed in excellent spirits and full of fight. They were cracking jokes and singing many familiar songs, the favorite of which seemed to be a blending of 'Tipperary' with 'Are We Downhearted?' Which query was answered by a deafening roar of 'No!'"
In writing of the country around Suvla Bay the same correspondent said:
"The country is in fact terrible; the hills are an awful jumble, with no regular formation, but broken up into valleys, dongas, ravines, and partly bare sandstone, and partly covered with dense shrub. In places there are sheer precipices over which it is impossible to climb and down which a false step may send you sliding several hundreds of feet."
Finally, deeply illuminating is the official communiqué published in England on August 26, 1915, regarding the operations in early August. The most striking paragraphs follow:
"Very severe and continuous fighting, with heavy losses to both sides, has resulted. Our forces have not yet gained the objectives at which they were aiming in sphere eight, though they have made a decided advance toward them and have greatly increased the area in our possession.
"The attack from Anzac after a series of desperately contested actions, was carried to the summit of Sari Bair and Chunuk Bair Ridge, which are the dominating positions on this area, but, owing to the fact that the attack from Suvla Bay did not make the progress which was counted upon, the troops from Anzac were not able to maintain their position in the actual crest, and after repeating counterattacks, were compelled to withdraw to positions close below it."
And the communiqué ends up with the significant sentence:
"But these facts must not lead the public to suppose that the true objective has been gained or that further serious and costly efforts will not be required before a decisive victory is won."
Picturesque accounts of the fighting by the Australian troops for Sari Bair on August 6, 7, and 8, 1915, have been written by an eyewitness of the fighting. Speaking of the few moments before the fighting, he said:
"Meanwhile the combined Australians and New Zealanders braced for the desperate night attack that had been decided upon. The men had long been waiting for this hour to arrive.
"Strict orders were given that not a shot was to be fired; the bayonet alone was to be used. Exactly at ten o'clock on Friday night a brigade clambered over their trenches and furiously charged the Turkish line amid loud cheers, bayoneting all the enemy found therein. The Turks, taken apparently quite unawares, fired wildly and were unable to check the advance.
"Thus in a few minutes all the enemy nearest the sea were in our hands and the way was thus cleared for the main advance. The New Zealanders stopped only to take breath and then pursued their victorious career, rushing in succession the old No. 3 outpost, 'Bauchop's Hill,' and other Turkish positions. The native Maoris entered into the charge with great dash, making the darkness of the night hideous with their wild war cries, and striking terror into the hearts of the Turks with the awful vigor with which they used their bayonets and the butt end of their rifles.
"The darkness of the night, the broken nature of the ground, and the shell fire with which the enemy had smothered every available bit of ground, with his deadly snipers, delayed the main advance somewhat after these preliminary positions had been successfully rushed, for every hill and spur had to be picketed to keep down the fire from lurking marksmen left in the rear of our advancing columns. The fighting throughout the night was continuous, for amid these gloomy ravines the Turks offered courageous and despairing resistance to the Australians, the New Zealanders and Maoris, and many bloody encounters, the details of which will never be known, were fought in the dark hours which preceded a still more eventful dawn."[Back to Contents]
CHAPTER XLIII
AGGRESSIVE TURKISH MOVEMENTS—OPINION IN ENGLAND—CHANGE IN COMMAND
With the withdrawal of the allied troops from Anzac Cove and Suvla Bay, the Turks were free to concentrate all their forces in the Gallipoli Peninsula in the south against the British and French forces that were still intrenched on a line running roughly from Y Beach on the Ægean Sea to Kereves Dere on the Dardanelles, skirting the slopes that led up to the town of Krithia and the heights of Achi Baba.
Immediately the Turks began to transfer the guns and men that had been used against the northern position. Obviously such a transfer in difficult country with few roads and a restricted front took considerable time. In the meantime the British and French in front of Krithia were not inactive. They countered constantly against the ever-increasing pressure of the enemy. Although few infantry attacks were engaged in, bomb and mine warfare for the improvement of the allied positions and the prevention of fresh inroads by the Turks was an almost constant affair.
Fortunately for the safety and subsequent plans of the Allies, the Gallipoli Peninsula at that time of the year was rendered most difficult for offensive fighting. Heavy rains and consequent floods make the country almost impassable for the movement of big guns or large bodies of troops in the face of a determined defense.
But while the position of the allied troops in the hills away from the fringe of coast was becoming desperate, at or near the beaches they could enjoy practical immunity except from a few long-range Turkish batteries. The powerful guns of the allied warships so far outranged and outweighed anything the Turks could bring into the field about Krithia and Achi Baba that the allied troops could lie sheltered under their protection.
This fact undoubtedly contributed largely to the astonishing success of the reembarkation operations here, as it had at the two northern bases. The chief danger to the allied troops about Krithia was in the retreat over the few miles that separated them from the embarkation beaches.
Finally, however, the pressure of the Turks became so heavy that there was very real apprehension for the safety of the allied troops still left on the peninsula. Whether or not it was ever intended to maintain the positions won in the south it is impossible to say at this time. Some observers were of the opinion that it was England's desire to construct on the territory in her possession at the entrance to the Dardanelles a second Gibraltar, commanding at least one end of the important waterway. German opinion held that it had been agreed between the Entente Powers in the event of the forcing of the Dardanelles that the land commanding the waterway was to be divided among the three countries, each dominating a stretch—probably Russia in Constantinople, England at the Narrows, and France in between.
However that may be, any intention of hanging on to the territory captured in the south was soon to be impracticable. By the first of the year, 1916, the Turks were hotly pressing the allied troops to the left of Krithia and it became imperative to shorten the line.
Favored by the floods and the fact that, despite the knowledge of the Turks that a reembarkation had been decided upon, they did not know exactly when it was to be carried out, the retirement was effected with small loss. On the nights of January 8-9, 1916, the men were embarked from the beaches at the north of Sedd-el-Bahr under the guns of the British and French fleet.
At the last moment it was found impossible to get eleven British guns away. Reluctantly it was decided to destroy them and they were rendered useless by the last troops leaving the peninsula. Similarly the French were compelled to abandon six heavy pieces. Immense stores were burned and all the buildings, piers, etc., erected by the allied troops blown up.
While the Allies' offensive was beginning to wane at Gallipoli, an interesting incident developed at Constantinople which gives some idea of the high tension existing there at the time. The story is best told in the original words of Mr. Henry Wood, an American newspaper correspondent, who in a dispatch dated August 17, 1915, first gave the news to the New York "World." He wrote:
"The following is the story of the manner in which Mr. Morgenthau, the American Ambassador, intervened in favor of 2,000 English and French civilians whom Enver Pasha had decided to expose to the bombardment of the allied fleet at Gallipoli:
"The decision had not only been taken, but every detail had been covertly prepared for its carrying out on a Monday morning, when on the previous evening Mr. Morgenthau learned of it. He at once telephoned to Enver Pasha and secured from him a promise that women and children should be spared. A second request, that the execution of the order be delayed until the following Thursday, was only granted after the ambassador had assured Enver that it would be the greatest mistake Turkey had ever made to carry it out without first advising the powers interested.
"Mr. Morgenthau at once telegraphed to France and England by way of Washington, and no reply having arrived by Wednesday morning, again telephoned to the War Minister, insisting on being received in personal audience.
"'I have not a single moment left vacant until four o'clock, at which time I must attend a Council of the Ministers,' was the reply.
"'But unless you have received me by four o'clock,' Mr. Morgenthau replied, 'I will come out and enter the Council of Ministers myself, when I shall insist upon talking to you.'
"An appointment was therefore granted for three o'clock, and after a long argument Enver Pasha was persuaded to agree to send only twenty-five French and twenty-five English to Gallipoli 'as a demonstration,' the War Minister arguing that any farther retraction would weaken discipline. It was also agreed to send only the youngest men, and Bedri Bey, the Constantinople chief of police, was at once sent for in order that he might be acquainted with the new limitation of the decision. But he at once protested. 'I don't want to send a lot of boys down there. I want to send down notables. You have tricked me,' he declared, turning to the ambassador.
"Next morning the ambassador attended personally to the going aboard of the twenty-five French and twenty-five English who had been finally selected. For all that, they knew the original orders to expose them to the fire of the fleet were to be carried out to the letter, and the farewell to their friends and relatives at the Golden Horn pier was one of the most affecting ever enacted at Constantinople. At the last minute one of the British ministers, who still remained at Constantinople, volunteered to go along in order that he might offer spiritual consolation should they eventually face death, and a young Englishman was released in his place. Mr. Morgenthau insisted that the party be accompanied by Mr. Hoffman Phillip, First Secretary of the American Embassy.
"On their arrival at Gallipoli they were imprisoned in two empty houses and informed that the allied fleet was expected any moment to resume its bombardment. The city had been under fire for several days, and was almost completely deserted. No provision had been made for their subsistence. During the days which followed the fifty men suffered considerable hardships, but at last orders came from Constantinople for all fifty to be returned and released."
Meanwhile a curious hardening of public opinion regarding the Dardanelles was taking place in England, which in the course of time was destined to have an all-important influence on the operations in that part of the world. Before the Suvla Bay landing there had been considerable but mild criticism of the manner in which the whole affair had been undertaken and carried out. Close upon the early successes of the naval bombardment there had been an unjustified public optimism. Then came weeks of pessimism following that black day when three battleships were sent to the bottom almost at one blow.
Subsequent events and the false color given to them by the official, but especially the unofficial, accounts served to hearten the British public for a time. Then came Winston Churchill's famous speech in which he spoke of Sir Ian Hamilton's forces being "only a few miles from a great victory," such as would have a determining effect upon the outcome of the war. This was followed by many absurd but circumstantial reports that the Dardanelles had actually been forced but, for some unexplained reasons, the news was being withheld by the Government.
A little later there came news of the arrival of German submarines off Gallipoli and of the sinking of two more battleships. This was followed by unofficial intimation that the major fleet had had to be withdrawn from the waters about the peninsula and that the forces on land were in a measure cut off and dependent upon smaller vessels for naval support and supply.
At this point criticism of the Dardanelles campaign became more pronounced and daring in many quarters in England. The public was ripe for it and many openly expressed their regret that it had ever been entered upon. Then came the Suvla Bay landing, and affairs rapidly moved to a climax.
The Suvla Bay attempt, like all of the other operations at Gallipoli, was conceived in a spirit of excessive optimism. It was intended to be a surprise and the public in England were kept absolutely ignorant of the preparations, so far as it was possible to prevent a leakage with thousands of troops being sent out of the country. Even after the landing and the fighting were well over, little or no news was allowed to get into the papers. Finally there came a long dispatch from the United States, which, curiously enough, the British censor passed, telling of the utter defeat of the Turk, the complete success of the Suvla Bay maneuver, and intimating that the forcing of the Dardanelles was now but a question of a few days.
This amazing dispatch, in which there was of course no truth, was printed in the leading English papers, and a large part of the unthinking public and even a portion of the more intelligent classes swallowed it whole. The news came just at the time of the blackest week of the war up to that time, from the British point of view, when the Germans were racing to the end of their remarkable drive against the Russians and the czar's great fortresses were falling like packs of cards before the furious onslaughts of the Teuton forces.
But with the arrival and publication in England of Sir Ian Hamilton's account, and the declaration by him that the ends aimed at had not been achieved, it soon was realized that even this great attempt, upon which so much had been builded, had failed. Depression became universal, and there were for the first time responsible demands that the whole expedition be abandoned.
This question of the total abandonment of the attempt to force the Dardanelles was a tremendous problem for England. Involved in it was the great question of her prestige, not only among her millions of Mohammedan subjects, but also in the Balkans, then rapidly moving to a decision. Turkey was the only Mohammedan power still boasting independence, and for Great Britain to acknowledge herself bested in an attempt to defeat her was likely to have far-reaching and serious results throughout India and Egypt, where Great Britain's ability to hold what she had won was dependent in a large measure upon the very prestige now in danger.
One of the reasons for urging the abandonment of the Dardanelles campaign was the urgent need for troops elsewhere. It was declared that it was absurd folly to be wasting troops at Gallipoli when the western front was being starved for men. Furthermore there were rapidly accumulating evidences that the Entente Powers were soon to be compelled to fight on a new and important front.
About this time Germany began her preparations for a final attack upon Serbia. Try as the Allies might, they had not been able to force an agreement between Serbia and Bulgaria on the question of the ownership of those parts of Macedonia won from the Turk in the First Balkan War, and taken from the Bulgar by the Serbians in the second. Germany, taking advantage of these irreconcilable differences, was about to launch a heavy attack from the north upon the kingdom of aged Peter.
In these circumstances there came before the British Government, in common with the French Government, the question of just how great an obligation rested on the shoulders of the two great powers. Serbia certainly looked to them to assist her with all their strength, and at the height of the agitation Sir Edward Grey made a public declaration that in every circumstance Serbia could look to England for unlimited support.
It was when those who knew began to discuss the question of where Great Britain was to find the military force to make good Grey's pledge to Serbia that the Dardanelles campaign came in for hot criticism. It was known that few, if any, fully trained troops were available in England for a fresh campaign. Indeed, as matters ultimately worked out, it was France who found the bulk of the force that was hurried to Saloniki when Bulgaria declared war on Serbia and joined in the Austro-German attack upon the Balkan kingdom. Later, under French pressure, England withdrew 40,000 of her troops from the western front and rushed them off to Saloniki, but much too late to succor Serbia.
Finally, so powerful became the influences calling upon the Government to retire from the Dardanelles with as much grace as possible that the opinion of Sir Ian Hamilton was asked. Probably the inside truth of the affair will not be known for some years, but it later developed that there was considerable friction between Sir Ian Hamilton and the British War Office at the time. Sir Ian, it is known, laid a large part of blame for the failure at the Strait to the fact that Earl Kitchener did not send him large reenforcements that were expressly promised. At any rate he was against a withdrawal from Gallipoli in the circumstances and in favor of a swift and overwhelming assault with all the troops and forces that could be gathered. He was still firmly convinced that the forcing of the Dardanelles was possible and probable.
Just what were the relations between France and England, and especially how they each regarded the Dardanelles campaign in the winter of 1915, it is impossible to say with any degree of assurance. It is known, however, that there were serious differences of opinion, not only among the more influential men in both Paris and London, but between the two Governments.
Obviously, the British were the more reluctant to abandon the project, which had been entered upon with so much confidence and enthusiasm. It was distinctly a British operation, although the French Government had given its unqualified approval at the start and had loyally contributed all the troops it could spare. But the plans had been drawn up in London and had been worked out by British commanders; and the acknowledgment of failure was a confession of British, not French, incompetency. It was a blow at British prestige such as had not been dealt since the early disasters of the Boer War.
While the whole question of the Gallipoli campaign was being reconsidered there occurred something that had a profound effect upon subsequent events in that part of the war area and elsewhere. The defeat of the Russians while the French and British troops were unable, through lack of preparation and foresight, to carry on an energetic offensive that might have drawn the Germans from their Slav prey, convinced all the allied Governments that the time had arrived for a thorough revision of their system of cooperation. In short, if the war was to be won and each of the Entente Powers was to escape a separate defeat while the others were doomed to a forced inactivity, it was necessary that their military, economic, and financial affairs should be so coordinated and administered that they should be directed with one object only in view—the winning of the war.
For this purpose representatives of the allied powers met in Paris and discussed plans. One of the first results of these discussions was to be seen in the military field. The armies of France and England in the field became, for all practical purposes, one. The supreme command of the allied forces in France was placed in the hands of the commander in chief of the French army.
General French, who had been only nominally under the orders of the French commander in chief, retired from command of the British army in France and one of his subordinates, Sir Douglas Haig, took his place. Similarly, in the southwestern theatre of the war, where Sir Ian Hamilton was in supreme command, the leadership passed to France, Hamilton resigning and his place being taken by Sir Charles Monro. When the British and French troops from Gallipoli were ultimately landed at Saloniki the supreme command of the allied forces in that theatre of war was given to General Sarrail of the French army.
Undoubtedly, too, the influence of France, and of Joffre individually, was thrown into the scales at these Paris meetings against a continuance of the Dardanelles operations. French public opinion was strongly in favor of sending immediate succor to the Serbians. So strong, in fact, was this public opinion that, when the expected help failed to arrive, it forced the immediate downfall of Delcassé and the ultimate resignation of the French Cabinet.
Soon after Kitchener returned to London from these Paris conferences a sensation was caused by the announcement that he was leaving the War Office temporarily and would undertake an important mission in the Near East. Ultimately it developed that this important mission was nothing more nor less than a first-hand examination of the problems confronting the British commander in withdrawing his force from Gallipoli and a study of the field into which it was proposed to transfer, not only these troops, but hundreds of thousands of others.
Probably no high officer of the British army was more fitted for the mission. Whatever one may think of Kitchener's administration of the British War Office during a period of unprecedented difficulty, no one can deny his success in India and Egypt. With those commands had necessarily gone an exhaustive study of military operations that might conceivably have to be undertaken for the protection of British prestige and power in the Mohammedan world.
Thus he was thoroughly at home in the Near East and he brought back to London an encouraging report. Even high military opinion in England had been of the opinion that the withdrawal of the allied troops from Gallipoli could not be effected without terrible losses. Some even held that it would be better and less costly in human lives to leave the troops there on the defensive until the end of the war than to attempt to get them out of the death hole into which they had been dumped.
This, however, was not Lord Kitchener's idea. He reported that they could be withdrawn, not, it was true, without heavy losses, but at a cost much smaller than the general estimate. This conclusion he came to after an examination on the spot, and subsequent events, as we shall see, more than justified his judgment in the matter.
Once having made up its mind to risk the loss of prestige involved and withdraw the army from the Gallipoli Peninsula, the British Government acted with speed and intelligence. It turned the difficult task over to General Sir Charles Monro, whose subsequent accomplishment of the operations earned him the admiration of every military man throughout the world.
General Sir Charles Monro's job was difficult and dangerous enough for any man. In the face of an enemy numbering something like 80,000 men, along a line of 20,000 yards, he had to withdraw an almost equal number of men with their stores, trucks, ammunition, guns, etc. Only by the greatest of good fortune could he have the inestimable advantage of surprise.
Moreover, the enemy had been tremendously encouraged and emboldened by the successful defense which they had offered to all the allied assaults of the previous year. Their Mohammedan fanaticism had been stirred by the Turkish, Austrian, and German press, and their pride quickened by the thick crop of rumors that the Allies were finally about to acknowledge defeat.
In many places the French and British trenches were separated by less than fifty yards from the Turkish defenders. In few cases were they more than 500 yards distant. Furthermore, the Turkish positions overlooked the allied troops, being in almost every case on higher ground. And finally the Suvla Bay and Anzac regions, the points from which the troops would have to be embarked, were all within artillery range and often within rifle range of the enemy.
Every effort was made by General Monro and his subordinate officers to conduct the preparations for the embarkation of the troops in secret. That is to say the exact day decided upon was kept a secret from all except the highest officers. For it was not possible to keep from the Turks entirely the knowledge of a complete withdrawal from the Gallipoli Peninsula of the allied troops. Too much publicity had been given to the whole discussion in France and England for that.
Eventually, Monday, December 19, 1915, was decided upon for the critical operation. With all possible secrecy a great fleet of transports was gathered at Mudros Bay and, under the protection of this fleet of warships—the strongest that had approached the Gallipoli Peninsula since the arrival of the German submarines in the neighborhood—sailed for Suvla Bay and Anzac Cove.
It had been decided to remove the allied troops from these two bases before attempting the perhaps more difficult task of getting the force away from the Krithia region. Indeed, after the troops had been safely extricated from the northern bases it was officially announced in London that the Allies would continue to hold the base won in the south. This proved, however, to be merely in the nature of a literary demonstration to divert the attention of the none too credulous Turk from the real purpose of the allied command.
While the fleet of transports and warships was approaching the two bases under cover of the night, the Australian and New Zealand troops at Anzac and the British troops at Suvla were hastily preparing for leaving. Among the colonial troops there was the keenest regret in thus relinquishing what had been so hardly won at the price of so many precious lives. To the Australians the operations at Anzac will always remain one of the greatest, if not the very greatest military feat in their history. To be sure they fought in numbers and with conspicuous bravery throughout the Boer War; but Anzac was an operation all their own, on a scale never before attempted by them as a distinct military organization. They had won undying fame and unstinted praise from the highest military authorities, and the success of the operation in that part of the Gallipoli Peninsula had become a matter affecting their pride.[Back to Contents]
Operations at the Dardanelles.
CHAPTER XLIV
ABANDONMENT OF DARDANELLES—ARMENIAN ATROCITIES
Finally, by midnight of Sunday, all was ready. Just after that hour the allied troops on shore at Anzac and Suvla Bay could see the dark forms of the warships and the transports as they dropped anchor close inshore. If they had listened attentively they might have heard the soft splash of the hundreds of muffled oars as they slowly propelled the ships' boats toward the beaches.
On shore preparations were being made to repel a hurricane attack by the Turks. For it was felt that as soon as the enemy got knowledge of the contemplated withdrawal they would attack with unprecedented fury.
But, though the British troops waited, the expected attack never came. Finally, just after three o'clock in the morning, the Australians exploded a large mine at Russell's Top, between the two systems of trenches, and made a strong demonstration as if about to initiate a big offensive. About eight o'clock the last of them were taken off. Before these last men left they set fire to the stores that it had been impossible to carry away.
It was only then, apparently, that the Turks awoke to the real progress of events. Immediately from every Turkish battery a hurricane of shells was poured into the deserted Allies' base. Those within range turned their fire upon the allied fleet, now swiftly disappearing from sight in the thin haze.
Highly significant, as showing the serious state of public opinion in England during the closing days of the Dardanelles campaign, were the published statements of E. Ashmead-Bartlett. Ashmead-Bartlett was in the nature of an official eyewitness of the major part of the operations at the Strait, although the British War Office took no responsibility for his opinions or statements. It was at first intended by the British authorities that there should be no newspaper correspondents on the spot, but finally, as a concession to the demands of the united press of Great Britain, it was agreed that one man should be allowed on the scene and that his dispatches should be syndicated among the papers sharing the expense of his work. Ashmead-Bartlett was the man selected for the unique task.
His dispatches from the Dardanelles were censored on the spot and again in London, so they did not possess much information of direct value. It was when he returned to London and was in a degree free from restraint that he wrote frankly. His remarks are quoted in part because they are the best, perhaps the only, unprejudiced opinion on the operations from a British point of view.
Writing in the middle of October, 1915, he strongly advised the abandonment of the campaign, "which," he says, "if it ever had any hope of success, now is completely robbed of it." In his opinion, giving up the campaign would not hurt the Allies' prestige in the Balkans, for the simple reason that their prestige had "been reduced to nil" by the Foreign Office, loquacious politicians, and faulty diplomacy.
Speaking of the military operations at the Dardanelles, after paying the highest tribute to the ability and the courage of the Turks, and berating the British politicians who interfered with the General Staff, he said:
"Apart from the question that the conception is of doubtful paternity, we committed every conceivable blunder in our methods of carrying out the plan. Few minds were engaged that had any knowledge of the character of the Turks' fighting qualities and the geography of the country. Never before in this war has the situation been more serious.
"Our boasted financial stamina in outlasting our opponents is going fast to ruin in excessive expenditures in enterprises which, if they ever had any hope of success, now have been finally robbed of all such hope.
"A good gambler, when he loses much, can afford to stop. He waits for a turn in his luck and a fresh pack of cards, and clears off for another table. The mad and headstrong gambler loses everything trying to recoup, and has nothing left to make a fresh start elsewhere. Which is England to be, the former or the latter?"
It is natural that the Turkish people should have been jubilant over the turn of events in Gallipoli and elsewhere. After the series of defeats during the Balkan War the successes of the Great War against such redoubtable opponents as France and England were all the more inspiring. The final success in the Dardanelles had been predicted some weeks before in the Turkish Parliament, and therefore was not unexpected. In the last week in October, Halil Bey, president of the Turkish Chamber of Deputies, declared:
"At the time when the most serious engagements were taking place in the Dardanelles and in Gallipoli, I was in Berlin. I was there able to realize personally the feelings of high and sincere admiration entertained by our allies for the extraordinary bravery with which terrible attacks were repulsed by our armies. The German nation publicly congratulated their Government, which, at a time when we were despised by the smallest nations, was proud to sign an alliance with us. That alliance carries with it obligations for the distant future, and unites in a sincere and unshakable friendship three great armies and three great nations.
"The cannon which thundered on the Danube will soon be heard again in greater force and will create in the Balkans an important sector in connection with the war. After the reestablishment of communications, which will take place within a brief space of time, our army will be in a better position to fulfill its mission on all the fronts, and in irresistible fashion. The hopes of the enemy are forever destroyed as regards Constantinople and its straits, and can never be renewed."
Extremely significant is one of the concluding paragraphs of his speech in which he foreshadows economic developments after the war. In view of the Allies' expressed intention of making an effort to boycott German trade even after the signing of peace terms, the following words of Halil Bey are illuminating and important:
"The most important result of this war is that from the North Sea to the Indian Ocean a powerful group will have been created that will be ever in opposition to English egotism, which has been the cause of the loss of millions of human lives and of thousands of millions in money, and will act as a check on Russian pride, French revanche, and Italian treachery. In order to secure this happy result the Turkish nation will be proud to submit to every sort of sacrifice." The president concluded his speech by eulogizing the memory of those who had fallen in the war.
Halil Bey's prediction of the reestablishment of communications with the Central Powers was not long in being fulfilled. Within two weeks the Germano-Austrian drive from the Danube had penetrated to Bulgarian territory opposite the Rumanian frontier, and within another fortnight it had linked up with the Bulgarian columns in the south operating against Nish. For all practical purposes Serbia was in their hands, and the powerful economic group heralded by Halil Bey was in the process of completion.
There is no doubt that the forging of this strong link with Berlin was one of the main considerations in inducing the Allies to abandon the Dardanelles campaign. There were two immensely important reasons why this should have radically changed conditions in the Gallipoli Peninsula.
In the first place, there was the question of supplies. There are three ways in which modern wars on a big scale can be won: by direct military pressure, by financial pressure, or by economic stress. In the case of the Allies' offensive against Turkey, after the first disappointment of the naval military operations, it was confidently predicted that economic stress would accomplish what military pressure had failed to do. It was known that Turkey had but meager means of making good the enormous expenditure of heavy-gun ammunition necessary in modern battles. Indeed, as early as the big naval attempt to force the Dardanelles, rumors were heard of a shortage of ammunition in the Turkish forts, and in this connection it is interesting to print a report that gained currency at the time of the abandonment of the Anzac and Suvla Bay bases.
Had the allied fleet returned to its attack upon the Dardanelles batteries on the day following the great bombardment of March 19, 1915, the waterway to Constantinople would surely have been forced, in the opinion of several artillery officers of the defense works near Tchanak-Kalessi expressed to the Associated Press correspondent, who had just reached Vienna.
One of the principal batteries, it appeared, had for three of its large caliber guns just four armor-piercing shells each when night ended the tremendous efforts of the British and French fleet.
For the fourth gun five shells were left, making for the entire battery a total of seventeen projectiles of the sort which the aggressors had to fear. What this meant is best understood when it is considered that the battery in question was the one which had to be given the widest berth by the allied fleet.
During the evening of March 18, 1915, the correspondent talked with several artillery officers from this battery.
"Better pack up and be ready to quit at daybreak," said one of them.
"Why?" he asked.
"Oh, they are sure to get in to-morrow!"
Then the officer stated his reasons. He was so certain that the British and French would return in the morning to finish their task that there was no question in his mind as to the propriety of discussing the ammunition matter.
"We'll hold out well enough to make them think that there is no end to our supply of ammunition," he said, "but it can't be done if they go about their work in real earnest. With our heavy pieces useless they can reduce the batteries on the other shore without trouble. The case looks hopeless. You had better take my advice."
Following the advice thus given, the correspondent rose early next morning and packed his few belongings, keeping, meanwhile, a watchful eye on the tower of Kale-Sultanie, where the flag, showing that the allied fleet was near, was usually hoisted. But the morning passed and still the danger signal did not appear. Evidently the allied fleet was not inclined to risk more such losses as those of the previous day, when the Bouvet, Irresistible, and Ocean went down and five other ships were badly damaged. Yet even with the eleven remaining ships, it appears from the Turkish admissions, the Dardanelles could have been forced on March 19, 1915.
The correspondent visited several of the batteries during the day. The damage done the day before was slight indeed, consisting mostly of large earth displacements from the parapets and traverses. Four guns were temporarily out of commission, but the general shortage of ammunition made these pieces negligible quantities anyway.
Although the British information system in this field of operations was efficient, it must have failed in this instance, for it seems certain that with seventeen shells the battery in question would have been easily disposed of, a channel could have been made through the mine field, and the way to Constantinople would have been open.
All this was realized in the Turkish capital. The court made arrangements to transfer to Akhissar Anatolia, and the German and Austro-Hungarian Embassies were ready to leave for this ancient seat of the Ottoman Government. The families of many German officers in the Turkish service left Constantinople. In short, everybody understood that a calamity was pending. What its exact nature was but a few knew.
Whatever truth there may have been in this particular story, there seems to be little doubt that the Turks were woefully short of ammunition. During the Balkan War it was reported on good authority that much of their ammunition was defective. When countries like France, England, and Russia hopelessly miscalculated the need of ammunition for modern warfare, it is not asking too much of us to believe that the Turks suffered in a worse degree.
Without direct or indirect communication with Germany, it is easy to imagine this condition of affairs getting steadily worse. At the beginning of the war, there seems to be good evidence, large quantities of all kinds of munitions and war supplies were rushed from Germany to Constantinople by way of Rumania and Bulgaria, but it was not long before the Rumanian Government, either of its own volition or in the face of threats by the allied powers, refused to permit these supplies to pass through her territory.
It became evident to the Allies that sooner or later the Germans would have to make an attempt to link up with the Turks. Thus, from one point of view, the operations at the Dardanelles became a race against Germany, with a common objective, Constantinople. Those who laid their money on the allied horse were confident of winning, figuring that long before the Germans were free of the French menace on the west and south and the Russian menace on the east, and so in a position to undertake an offensive against Serbia, the allied troops would have forced the Dardanelles, vanquished the Ottoman troops before the gates of Constantinople, and opened the Strait of the Dardanelles and the Bosporus.
So it was that when events did not transpire as expected, and the allied troops were still hanging desperately to their bases on Gallipoli Peninsula, when the Germans had subdued Serbia, and arrived in triumph in the capital of the Ottoman Empire via the Berlin to Constantinople Express, there was no longer any hope of starving the Turkish guns nor, having even forced the Dardanelles, any certainty of the capture of Constantinople. In other words, conditions had radically changed, and, even with better chances of success than were believed to exist, the game was no longer worth the candle.
The second reason was that, with a neutral Bulgaria, the benefits to the Allies of a successful offensive in the Dardanelles were obvious. The forcing of the Strait, a combined naval and land attack upon Constantinople, the driving of the Turk from Europe, and the insertion of a firm defensive wedge between the empire of the Sultan and any possible German offensive from the north, were objectives important enough to justify almost any expenditure of money, men, and effort the Allies might have made.
But with the Turkish army linked up with a friendly Bulgaria, and backed by a strong Austro-German force led by General Mackensen, the conditions were changed to a state of hopelessness. An allied army operating on the European side against Constantinople would be dangerously flanked by the Bulgarian and Austro-Germans and hopelessly outnumbered if limited to the force the Allies had been able to send to the southeastern war area.
Just how many men it was possible for Bulgaria and Turkey to put in the field it is not possible to state definitely. It would be reasonable to figure that they could by a great effort, after many months of war, put at least twice their reputed war strength into the ranks. The larger countries far exceeded such figures. Enver Pasha, at the end of October, 1915, stated that Turkey had raised a total of 2,000,000 soldiers. Bulgaria, in a case of necessity, might possibly have added another million, while Germany and Austria, at the time of the operations against Serbia, demonstrated their ability to supply, in action and in reserve, another 500,000 for this front.
These are huge figures. There were many reasons why all these troops could not be used against an allied offensive. It is not meant to imply, for instance, that an allied offensive on a large scale, based on Saloniki, is doomed to failure. The figures are quoted simply to show the military conditions that made an offensive from the Dardanelles hopeless in the circumstances that obtained at the end of 1915 and that weighed with the military authorities in London and Paris in deciding upon a withdrawal from the Gallipoli Peninsula.
Probably it will be a long time before the world has any accurate, adequate idea of the terrible disaster that overtook British prestige and allied troops in their year's attempt to force the Strait. Official figures announced by Premier Asquith speak of more than 100,000 troops killed, wounded, or missing, but these total figures took account of the sick, who reached an extraordinary high total. Lack of drinking water, the difficulty of keeping the troops supplied with food, the intense heat, and the fact that the men engaged were unused to the climatic conditions, combined to lay low thousands upon thousands of men not mentioned in the restricted casualty lists. An estimate of another hundred thousand put out of action, temporarily or permanently, by sickness is not unreasonable.
Thus 200,000 men, six battleships and smaller war vessels, enormous stores and millions of dollars' worth of ammunitions were the price Britain paid to discover that the Dardanelles were impregnable even to British battleships and British endurance. And who shall estimate the loss of vital prestige, the waste of fine efforts at a time when it was so much needed elsewhere? Some future historian, with all the facts in his possession, with the saving perspective that only time can give, will have a fascinating subject for discussion in this Dardanelles campaign, destined to go down into history as one of the most spectacular and daring in the annals of warfare.
It was not until some weeks later that the outside world began to hear rumors of the dire predicament of the Armenians under Turkish rule. In their case, as in that of the French and British who were to be sent to the Dardanelles, Mr. Morgenthau finally intervened with effect.
It had always been recognized that the elements of serious trouble existed in the districts of Asiatic Turkey populated by the Armenians. In the days of Sultan Abdul Hamid there had been frequent massacres by the Turks, following outbreaks of racial and religious strife. The Armenians had not been easy people to govern, and a constant and deep hatred existed between them and their rulers.
With the coming of the Young Turks the lot of the unhappy Armenians had apparently bettered. Indeed, at the time of the outbreak of war, one of two special European inspectors, specially appointed to watch over the administration of the six provinces of Asiatic Turkey in which the Armenians lived, was actually on his way to his post.
Of course the war changed the entire situation and made the position of the Armenian population a precarious one. All hope of reform for the moment was banished and the old hatred, of which it was hoped the world had heard the last, was revived and intensified by the passions aroused by the entrance of Turkey into the struggle.
Nor were the Armenians content to await their fate. In several important instances they took matters into their own hands. It was, perhaps quite natural that many of them, especially those who lived near the Russian frontier, should sympathize with Russia.
Early in April of 1915, a considerable force of Armenians in the city of Van collected and resisted the attempts of Turkish gendarmes to apply the terms of an order banishing certain of their number suspected of Russian or anti-Turk sympathies. In such force were they that they actually, with the help of Russian troops, captured the city.
With the Van revolt Talaat Bey, the powerful Turkish Minister of the Interior, determined upon a ruthless policy of repression, and it was largely due to efforts to put that policy in force that there resulted the subsequent massacre of Armenians that shocked the world. It is difficult for anyone not in possessions of the actual facts to apportion an exact measure of blame for these bloody reprisals; and in the following account, it must be remembered, we are compelled at this juncture to rely almost entirely upon English and Russian, and therefore biased, information.
The district covered by the massacre, in which it has been said 1,000,000 Armenians (probably a gross exaggeration) were killed, were Eastern Anatolia, Cilicia, and the Anti-Taurus regions. It is said that at Marsovan, where there is an American college, the Armenians early in June were ordered to meet outside the town. They were surrounded and 1,200 of their number killed by an infuriated mob. Thousands of the rest were hurled into northern Mesopotamia.
At Bitlis and Mush, in the Lake Van district, it is reported that 12,000 were killed and several Armenian villages entirely wiped out.
As has been pointed out, the Armenians of some districts did not sit still and wait to be massacred. At Shaben Karahissar in northeastern Anatolia, within a hundred miles of Trebizond, the Armenian population held the town for a short time against Turkish troops. Finally they were overcome and 4,000 are said to have been killed. At Kharput, a hundred and twenty-five miles southwest of Erzerum, the Armenians held the town for a whole week, but were finally overcome by troops and artillery. In many of the districts the able-bodied men of the Armenian population have been drafted into the labor battalions for military work at the front and at the bases. The men too old for this class of work, and yet suspected of agitating against Turkish rule, were exiled into districts where their powers for harm would be nil.
It must not be assumed because of these accounts that the Turkish Government gave its unqualified approval of these massacres. Undoubtedly Talaat Bey adopted a deliberately ruthless policy in dealing with all cases of actual or suspected revolt. But it is a far cry from a systematic, intelligent policy of frightfulness to an indiscriminate massacre.
Protests against these massacres were not confined to the outside world. Many influential personages in Turkey openly protested, and in some notable cases conscientious and brave officials actually refused to obey the demands of the Constantinople authorities and hand over Armenian subjects or assist in their exile.
Again in this case, as in that of the proposal of Enver Pasha to send a large number of allied citizens to the bombardment area of Gallipoli as a reprisal, it was Mr. Morgenthau, the American Ambassador at Constantinople, who followed up his protest by real action. He threw himself heart and soul into the work of softening the lot of the unfortunate Armenians. Of course he had to move warily in order not to offend the pride of the Turkish authorities, but working through the American Consular officials stationed throughout Turkey and through the American missionaries and teachers working among the Armenian and Turkish people he undoubtedly saved the lives of thousands of men, women, and children, while other thousands undoubtedly owe to his zeal their escape from exile or starvation.
It was due largely to the publicity given to these deplorable happenings in the American press that the attention of the world was drawn to Asiatic Turkey and the conditions there, resulting in action by the Turkish Government that effectively put a stop, for the moment at least, to the persecution of an unhappy people.[Back to Contents]