THE FRENCH FEINT AT KUM KALI
Another feint, on a much larger scale, was made by the French Division upon the Asiatic entrance to the Straits. The object was partly to hold a Turkish force, partly to check the fire from the Asiatic side upon the S and V landings. For this purpose, General D’Amade selected the 6th Regiment (Lieut.-Colonel Noguès), mixed Senegalese and Lyons men, of the Brigade Coloniale, supported by the Jeanne d’Arc and the Russian cruiser Askold (called the “Woodbines,” because she has five thin funnels close together, like the five cigarettes in a penny “Woodbine” packet). At the same time, the remainder of the French squadron was ordered to Besika Bay, five or six miles south of the point. Landing from the boats of their own transports, the infantry captured Kum Kali and Yenishehr villages after severe fighting, taking about 600 prisoners. In spite of violent counter-attacks, they held on through that night and the following day, not advancing farther along the coast than the mouth of the Mendere, but drawing the fire of the Asiatic guns, and thus defending both our transports and landings. The action was in every respect successful, but the regiment was re-embarked after nightfall on the 26th in accordance with pre-arranged plans, since Lord Kitchener had forbidden Asiatic adventures. The French lost 167 killed, 459 wounded, and 116 missing. They put the Turkish casualties at 2000, apart from prisoners.[94]
When night came, the small force at De Tott’s Battery (Eski Hissarlik) was fairly secure; the landing at V Beach had failed, and the few survivors ashore were barely sheltered from extreme peril by the low bank of sand; W Beach was held, but the partially entrenched troops on the plateau which protected it were exposed to repeated attack; X Beach was comparatively safe, owing to dead ground and the Implacable’s guns, and connection with W had been established; in shallow trenches above the ravine on Y Beach the diminishing companies desperately clung to the ground, but were exposed to irresistible numbers; at Z Beach (Anzac) the cove and a rough triangle of unexplored cliffs and ravines were barely held against persistent onsets; near Bulair the feint was probably successful in holding a certain number of Turkish troops, and Captain Freyberg was lighting his flares, a daring and lonely figure; at Kum Kali the French were fulfilling their task, but under orders to withdraw. Of the three Brigadier-Generals in the 29th Division, one had been killed and the other two wounded. Upon those scenes of anguish and death, of scarcely endurable anxiety and a self-devotion unsurpassed in any annals, the Sabbath evening closed, but scarcely for one moment did the tumult of battle cease.
CHAPTER VI
THE TEN DAYS AFTER
Throughout the long and anxious hours of the 25th, while the fate of his army hung uncertain, the Commander-in-Chief was compelled to remain on board the Queen Elizabeth with his Headquarter Staff. There was no place for him ashore. In modern warfare a commanding General cannot allow himself to become entangled in one part of the widely-extended front or in another. When once his dispositions have been made and his orders issued, the control passes out of his hands; and the more complete his dispositions and orders have been, the less is the part he is justified in taking upon himself. He can but await the result, listening anxiously to reports as they come. The wretchedness of such a position, for a soldier born to lead forlorn hopes or to command the rush of onset, was here increased by the sea. At no point was it possible even to remain on land without losing touch with all the other points. Only at sea could communication be maintained and reports delivered. The Commander-in-Chief was reduced to a position of inactive but restless security, all the more pitiable because, from the shelter of the great battleship, telescopes revealed incidents of heroic resolution in which it was impossible to share.
The day passed. In the evening the Queen Elizabeth flung a violent bombardment upon the defences of V Beach, bringing renewed courage to the line of survivors still crouching under the bank. At midnight, Sir Ian was called upon to take a decision as rapid as vital. It has been already mentioned that rumours of evacuation went round Anzac cove at sunset. The men were much exhausted by prolonged fighting, extreme danger, and heavy loss; the battalions were mixed; ammunition was running short; water, though brought ashore in boats, and already found by digging in one or two places, was scarce, and had to be carried up the cliffs on men’s backs; the wounded—over 2000 in number—though energetically tended, as already mentioned, and taken off rapidly to any available ship, still lay thick on the beach, or came dribbling back from the heights; along the bit of coast, over sea and shore, the shrapnel crashed and whirled perpetually; brave as the Anzacs had proved themselves, they were new to battle. If evacuation was unavoidable, now, at night, was the only possible time.
Sir Ian’s decision was unhesitating. The Turks were actually pressing upon the Anzac lines. Evacuation could not remain secret, and would take many hours. It would involve incalculable slaughter on the shore and in the boats. It meant defeat. It meant withdrawal such as Lord Kitchener had specially ordered him never to consider. It meant a breach in any high-spirited soldier’s instinct. The command was quick. Let them dig for their lives. Let them cling on like tigers. Help would come in the morning.
HOW ANZAC WAS HELD
And in the morning help came. Just after daylight the Queen Elizabeth herself appeared off Anzac cove. For three hours she threw her huge shrapnel from 15-in. guns, each shell flinging out a cone of some 13,000 bullets far to both sides and front.[95] The Triumph and Bacchante supported her. The Anzacs, outworn by the night struggle against repeated charges, stood their ground with courage renewed. Along the very edge of the steep cliff or ridge on the farther side of Shrapnel Gully they furiously dug. Battalions and brigades remained still confused. Men and groups fought or dug where they were wanted at the nearest line. By extreme effort thus was gradually formed that famous arc, or more properly triangle, which contained the Anzac of the next three months. It had the beach as base, Pope’s Hill near the apex (where a dangerous gap remained), Walker’s Ridge as one irregular side, and the long and devious line through Quinn’s Post, M‘Laurin’s Hill, and Bolton’s Hill to the coast as the other side, more irregular still.
The trenches began to afford some cover from shrapnel. A few 18-pounder guns were dragged up hastily constructed paths, and placed right in the firing line. But so continuous were the Turkish counter-attacks throughout the whole of Monday and the greater part of Tuesday the 27th that little attempt at reorganising the brigades was possible, the only recognisable distribution being that as a whole the Australians held the right side of the triangle, and the New Zealanders the left. Even within our lines many Turkish snipers continued for some days hidden in the scrub, maintained there by bags of provisions and cartridges brought with them to the lairs. The main or Shrapnel Gully was especially exposed to snipers of this kind and to more regular fire from the Nek, a narrow connecting link between the chief Anzac ridges and the main range of Sari Bair. To the last the southern end of the gully on its right side was so harassed by rifle fire that it retained its thick coating of scrub, as being too dangerous for dug-outs or any movement of men. For this reason the gully was sometimes called by the longer name of the Valley of the Shadow of Death, and it appears to have been while reconnoitring here that Colonel M‘Laurin, Brigadier of the 1st Brigade, and Major Irvine, his Brigade-Major, were killed side by side.[96]