Training and Fitness
From the beginning of the year 1915 the training had become more and more strenuous. There were long marches in the desert—occasionally very long ones—in full marching order, through native villages in which the many odours were only excelled in numbers, variety, and offensiveness by the yelping curs that were stirred into noisy activity by the tramp of the battalions. The Khamsin wind was sickly in its heat, the atmosphere heavy and laden with sand, the glare of the sun pitiless, the only shade available while resting being the very inadequate shelter provided by a blanket stretched on rifles. But the men were physically fit—they had to be, for only fit men were needed. The amateurs had become soldiers. The days were past when the colour-sergeant’s whispered order to the right-flank man of a company in extended order for “two scouts” would reach the left-flank man in the form of “the colour-bloke wants a couple of stouts.” In spite, however, of good physical condition and a fine spirit, it could not truthfully be stated that the Suez road, with its five-mile towers, and the Virgin’s Breast had endeared themselves to Lancastrians. Familiarity had bred not contempt but a whole-hearted loathing for that accursed highway and that distant mound. The Third Tower was the usual goal, the advance ceasing just beyond it. How the troops hated the sight of this detestable pile which, in the dust and glare, seemed to recede mockingly as they tramped towards it! On the homeward march one very hot day, while the men were cursing the dust and sand, a party of natives passed, all being mounted on asses. A bulky and perspiring Salford Fusilier regarded them enviously, and growled: “They say those blighters ain’t civilized. But they don’t ⸺ well walk!” There were night operations and marches, during one of which, after a battalion had been wandering for hours in pitch darkness along the numerous roads in and around Helouan, the company humorist suggested to his Captain that they had lost their way. On being asked why, he replied, “Well, we’ve just passed a road that we haven’t been down.”
Brigade “shows” and Divisional “stunts,” in conjunction with Australian and New Zealand troops and English Yeomanry, now began to play an important part in the training. The sounding of the Cease Fire was the signal for importunate orange-sellers to spring up on all sides, holding out the refreshing fruit with shrill cries of “Two for half” (piastre). Under the alleged cover of imaginary battle-ships “landing-schemes” were rehearsed. These, like so many less provocative events, gave rise to highly coloured rumours which, in spite of the hard fate of earlier rumours, were entertained with much satisfaction, for Hope is a cheery soul, always quick to reply that he is not downhearted. The men looked forward eagerly to an exodus from the captivity of Egypt and longed for the promised land, where an opportunity to test their soldierly qualities might be found. Rehearsals, training, and all duties were carried out with alacrity and unfailing cheerfulness, but they were becoming monotonous; and the feeling undoubtedly existed that the Division had—quite unintentionally—been penalized through being the first Territorial Division to be complete for service. Had they been a little less efficient another Territorial Division might have been chosen for useful but inglorious garrison duty in Egypt, and the East Lancashires might by now have been in France or Flanders. It seemed to be a case of the first being last.
On Palm Sunday, March 28, a brilliant day, the Division was reviewed in Cairo by General Sir Ian Hamilton, who had lately arrived to command the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, and Major-General Douglas had good reason for his pride in the troops under his command. The critical eye of the Commander-in-Chief seemed to take stock of every individual that passed before him, and he was obviously impressed by their soldierly bearing and fitness.[2] Here was a Division whose outward appearance equalled that of Regulars, and, as a judge of men, he was convinced that their martial spirit would not belie the outward appearance. He never had reason to alter his opinion or regret the judgment then passed. From that day the East Lancashires were “in the ring,” and were destined to play a part in one of the war’s greatest tragedies. In a Special Order of the Day the Divisional Commander published the following letter—
“General Sir Ian Hamilton, having been accorded the privilege of reviewing the East Lancashire Division, wishes to congratulate the General Officer Commanding in Egypt, as well as Major-General Douglas, on the turn-out and soldierly bearing of that force.
“He was able to observe to-day that the East Lancashire Division has made full use of the advantages which continuous fine weather and the absence of billeting have given them over their comrades now bearing arms, whether at home or on the continent of Europe.
“Ever since the siege of Ladysmith, General Sir Ian Hamilton has interested himself specially in the military output of Manchester, and it is a real pleasure to him now to be able to bear witness to the fact that this great city is being so finely represented in the East.”
Early in April there were signs that a fresh attack on the Canal was contemplated by the Turks, and orders were received that an Infantry Brigade of the Division must be ready to occupy a position covering Kantara at short notice. Major-General Douglas selected the East Lancashire Brigade for this important task. The move was not begun, however, until the 16th, when two battalions left for Kantara and Port Said, the others following on the 19th and 20th.
Embarkation for Gallipoli
On April 28 verbal orders were received by the Divisional Commander that the Division must be prepared to move to the Dardanelles at short notice. The news soon spread; it was no rumour this time, but the real thing, and on April 30 excitement was at fever heat. At last the Territorials were to be given the opportunity to which all ranks had looked forward so eagerly, and towards which recent training had been directed. Little time was given for preparation, but no more was needed, as the Division was ready to take the field. On May 1, 1915, the embarkation of the East Lancashire Division began, the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, the Brigade Signal Section and No. 2 Company, A.S.C. leaving Alexandria for the Dardanelles on the 2nd May. The Manchester Brigade, the Brigade Section Signal Company, No. 4 Company, A.S.C., and the 1st Artillery Brigade sailed on the night of the 3rd. Some of the transports had just brought many hundreds of wounded men from Gallipoli. The Derflinger, a captured German vessel, had landed 550 casualties a few hours before she was boarded by the 5th and 6th Manchesters, and the gory clothing and stretchers which littered her decks were sufficient evidence of war’s brutality to sober the most irresponsible and banish all idea of a “picnic” expedition. The embarkation of the remainder of the Division was delayed by the lack of trains, but on the 4th all units, with the exception of the Yeomanry, left their stations for the ports of embarkation, and on the 6th of May were at sea. The men carried with them grateful memories of the ladies of Alexandria, from whom much kindness had already been received, and who now opened a buffet on the quay, and from dawn until dusk supplied tea, coffee, and other refreshments to troops awaiting their turn to embark.