The bulk of the Anzac forces were actually embarked at Ariburnu Beach, north of Anzac Cove. The Cove was exposed to the shellfire of the batteries below Gaba Tepe, including the redoubtable Beachy Bill. The more northerly beach was not so greatly exposed, and possessed equal facilities for embarking troops, though they were not of a very high order.
After the possibility of withdrawal was first mooted I often had the opportunity of discussing with wounded men from Anzac the probable lines on which such an operation might be conducted. The view they took of the position was tersely put by one bushman from Western Australia. "It'll be 'Volunteers for the rearguard. Who wants to die?'" Sir Ian Hamilton has made public his conviction that a withdrawal should have involved the loss of thirty per cent. of the efficient forces taking part in it. Yet the whole work was performed with the loss of but one Anzac soldier wounded!
There were volunteers for the rearguard in plenty. Not one man of the original landing force but claimed as his right a place among the Diehards. There was more open grumbling among the men who were ordered to leave their comrades behind than at any time in the history of the occupation of Anzac. The spirit that had carried them up the cliffs on that first day of landing still burned as brightly within them when they were called upon at last to turn their backs on the scene of their sufferings, and of a failure that was more glorious than success.
Their personal preparations for departure were simple enough. Some prepared farewell messages to their old enemy Abdul, praising him for the decency he had shown in the long struggle against them. They were able to leave, bearing no grudge against the Turk, whether officer or common soldier, and they thought it fitting to signify as much.
Others paid their last visit to the graves of fallen comrades, scattered, alas! so thickly over the sad and accursed hills that have been drenched with so much Australasian blood. They re-painted the rough stumps that marked these honoured graves, and renewed the simple inscriptions that distinguished them. The wild holly may soon overgrow the ground where these heroes lie, but the men of Anzac are certain that their chivalrous foes will not mar their record by any desecration of this hallowed ground, so far from the native land of those who lie there.
Soon after dark the transports and warships slipped up from Cape Helles, and the actual work of withdrawal was put in hand forthwith. It was covered by a strong demonstration at Cape Helles, which was maintained throughout the night with the utmost vigour. One by one the transports were loaded, and slipped away, actually ahead of their time-table. The enemy, to all appearance oblivious to what was going on, kept up the desultory rifle fire and bomb throwing without which a night could not pass at Anzac.
After midnight the men who still held the pioneer outposts at the Apex, Lone Pine, and Chatham Outpost, were all withdrawn without arousing any suspicion. Then the first really demonstrative event of the night took place. A large store of explosive had been collected and placed in a tunnel underneath the Neck, the narrow strip of land which connected Russell's Top with the slope of Baby 700. This huge mine was exploded, with the probable effect that a huge chasm now yawns where there was formerly a passage from Walker's Ridge to the slopes of Sari Bair.
There were boats at Anzac Cove and at Brighton Beach to take off the Diehards, who now hurried to the nearest landing place from all the outer posts. The two big howitzers were blown up, and a few of the Australian eighteen pounders as well; the remainder were got away in safety. A huge mass of stores on the beach was fired, and at the same time a great bonfire at Suvla Bay to the north showed that the plan of withdrawal had there been executed with equal success.
And so, by the grace of God and by the efficiency of the British Navy, the impossible happened again. The whole Anzac force was removed from its precarious footing, in the face of a foe vastly superior in numbers without the death of one single man. The skilful plans had succeeded beyond all possible expectation, and the word failure had to be written to the finish of the Epic of Anzac, but not Disaster.
Australia and New Zealand received the news with the calm that a sane knowledge of the probabilities had made possible. Those who expected or feared that there would be any useless recrimination from Overseas were agreeably disappointed. "It is a blow," said the Oversea Prime Ministers, "but it will only serve to nerve us to greater efforts toward the final victory." Both Dominions forthwith undertook to raise very substantial additions to the forces they were already preparing to take part in the Great War.