CHAPTER II
GALLIPOLI
(May 1915)
Gallipoli! Who in Lancashire, in England, before the year 1915, knew where or what it was, or had even heard the name? Bitter was the dispelling of ignorance; hard indeed the road that led to knowledge! A name of death, of affliction, of suffering almost too heavy to be borne; but also a name of heroism and endurance and of high endeavour. A name of Failure, but no less of Glory.
More than 14,000 Lancashire Territorials—bronzed, clear-eyed, trained men now—put forth from Egypt in the first days of May 1915, upon the second stage of the Great Adventure, bound for the Ægean Sea, the very source and well-spring of adventure, whose shores and islands were the playgrounds of heroes. As the transports steamed northward into the Ægean, some, perhaps, had visions of a parade across the peninsula, an astonished enemy falling back before them in disorder, and a triumphant procession into Constantinople. The glamour of that romantic city laid hold of the imagination of others, who pictured a victorious entry after some weeks or months of hard fighting, and the loss of good comrades. The majority, however, had a better, if still rather vague, idea of the difficulties of the task that confronted them, for most had heard by now of the enemy’s preparedness and of the reception that had been given to the 29th Division, the Anzacs, and the French, and of the awful losses sustained before a precarious footing had been gained.
So, while the Division is at sea, let us review very briefly the position on the peninsula of Gallipoli. After a naval bombardment on February 15, which only served as a threat and warning to the enemy, a naval attempt on March 18 to force the Straits failed disastrously, though it certainly attained one of its objects—that of relieving the pressure upon the Russians. But as the large Turkish forces withdrawn from the Caucasus were employed upon the defence of Gallipoli and the Straits, the result was that the hitherto undefended peninsula was converted into an impregnable position against the now expected attack. Artillery was mounted to cover every approach, and barbed wire entanglements were concealed in the shallows and placed on shore—wire compared with which the British article was as thread.
On April 25 General Sir Ian Hamilton’s army landed, the 29th Division at various beaches of the southern extremity of the peninsula, around Cape Tekke, Cape Helles, and the village of Sedd-el-Bahr, and the Anzacs on the western shore a dozen miles to the north, just beyond the headland of Gaba Tepe. The loss incurred had been appalling. The marvel was that the feat had been accomplished. History records no grander achievement, no more inspiring example of heroism. Surely men who could achieve the impossible as these had done could go anywhere or do anything! They could indeed do what men can do, but there were no reserves to fill the huge gaps, and the important gains made so gallantly and at so terrible a cost had to be abandoned by the fragments of what had once been battalions and companies. The story of Gallipoli might have been very different had General Hamilton been granted the support of the East Lancashire Division a week earlier. On April 30 the 86th Brigade (the four Fusilier battalions) of the 29th Division could only muster 36 officers and 1830 men out of a normal strength of 104 officers and 4000 men, the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers being reduced to 11 officers and 399 men.
The finest troops of Turkey made desperate efforts, with a courage and enthusiasm that won the admiration of the British, to complete the destruction of the invading force or to drive it into the sea. With equal determination British, Anzacs, and French held on to their dearly-won foothold, and made desperate counter-attacks to improve their position. On May 1 the Indian Brigade under Brig.-General Cox arrived from Egypt.
On May 5-6 the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, with No. 2 Section Signal Company and the 2nd Transport and Supply Company, disembarked at “W” and “V” Beaches, across the blood-drenched hulk of the River Clyde, and were temporarily attached to the 29th Division. Vehicles and animals were slung into the lighters, and though it was their first experience the men did their job well. The A.S.C. mules had been supplied from the 49th Reserve Park a few hours before embarking at Alexandria, and were therefore unknown to their drivers, who deserve credit for bringing them safely ashore. As the cable-wagons could not be landed each man of the Signal Section took as much equipment as he could carry.
Had stimulus been needed to inspire the men from Bury, Rochdale and Salford, here was their inspiration. They had set foot ashore close to the spot made world-famous as “Lancashire Landing” a few days earlier by the 1st Battalion of their own Regiment, with whom they were now privileged to act. “So strong,” wrote Sir Ian Hamilton, in his first despatch on the Gallipoli landing, “were the defences of ‘W’ Beach that the Turks may well have considered them impregnable; and it is my firm conviction that no finer feat of arms has ever been achieved by the British soldier—or any other soldier—than the storming of these trenches from open boats, by the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.” Within a few hours of landing the Territorial Brigade was in action, and at the close of two days’ severe fighting it had a casualty list of 673. The first battalion to disembark, the 6th Lancashire Fusiliers, took over trenches from the K.O.S.B. at dusk, on the extreme left of the British line, between Gully Ravine and the Ægean Sea. The remainder of the Brigade marched during the night, reaching a point above Gully Beach at daybreak on May 6.