Lance-Corporal Joseph Tombs, 1st Battalion, King's (Liverpool Regiment).
On 16th May, during the fighting mentioned on page [231], Tombs of his own accord repeatedly crawled out of his trench under very heavy shell and machine-gun fire and brought in wounded men. Altogether he rescued four of his comrades, one of whom he dragged back by means of a rifle sling placed round his own neck and the man's body. So severely wounded was the rescued man that he must have died had he not been promptly brought in.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE GALLIPOLI PENINSULA.
On 25th April—six weeks and four days after our naval failure at the Narrows—British forces landed on the Gallipoli peninsula. Before I relate the marvellous story of how our men gained a footing on its rugged shores, I must give you some idea of the nature of the country. On pages 248, 249 you will see a bird's-eye view of part of the peninsula. One glance at it shows clearly that Gallipoli is a natural fortress, and that it is the most unlikely bit of self-contained country in which any general would wish to conduct a campaign. In its bewildering mass of hills and ravines it resembles a portion of the North-West Frontier of India.
The peninsula is connected with the mainland by the isthmus of Bulair, which is but three miles across from beach to beach. From Bulair the peninsula runs in a south-westerly direction for fifty-two miles, and near its centre broadens out to its greatest width of twelve miles. The shores of the northern half of the peninsula slope steeply to the Gulf of Xeros from a chain of hills which extend as far south as Cape Suvla. On this part of the coast the cliffs rise up almost from the water's edge, and there are no landing-places except a few gullies which are too narrow for military movements.
Sir Ian Hamilton,[43] the accomplished general who commanded our forces in Gallipoli, tells us that the southern half of the peninsula resembles a badly-worn boot with the ankle between Gaba Tepe and Maidos; beneath the heel lies the cluster of forts at the Narrows, while at the toe we find the strongholds which were reduced by the gun fire of our ships on 25th February.
At first sight the interior of the peninsula from Suvla Bay southwards looks like a choppy sea which has been suddenly frozen. If, however, we look closely at the map on page [168], we shall be able to make out three prominent features. Running right across the toe of the peninsula from sea to sea, at a distance of three and a half miles from Cape Helles, is a ridge which rises in its highest part to the Achi Baba peak, 591 feet above sea level. Big guns on this ridge command all the toe of the peninsula, which is hollowed out something like the bowl of a spoon, so that only the outer edges can be shelled directly from the sea. The inside of the bowl is not level, but is filled up with numerous spurs and gullies.
Now look at the forts of the Narrows. Behind them is a plateau—the Kilid Bahr plateau—which rises in the peak of Pasha Dagh to a height of 700 feet above the level of the sea, and extends westwards for about five miles. The Achi Baba ridge, you observe, is the buttress and outlying defence of this plateau on the south. To the north-west of the plateau you see a network of high hills with very steep sides and deep ravines. This is the Sari Bair mountain, which forms the buttress and outlying defence of the Kilid Bahr plateau on the north. Some of its peaks are nearly 800 feet high.