As the rough country in front of Anafarta plateau was thus being crossed, the line was continually harassed by an enfilading fire from swarms of snipers concealed in the bushes on the left, as well as by copious shrapnel and high explosives from the hills. Contact mines also exploded, and a Taube dropped a few bombs. Fortunately, about 4 p.m. a sudden squall and shower of rain swept over the bay and plain, obscuring the enemy’s view, and refreshing the troops, who were suffering greatly from the extreme heat and from thirst, though they were passing close to two excellent water-sources, had they but known it. Their Brigadier Hill, a man of almost excessive indifference to danger, as I observed on several occasions, did not follow them in person till midnight. By 5 p.m. they had reached a line within 300 yards of Chocolate Hill, and there they lay down while the ships and the few batteries on land bombarded.[185]
CHOCOLATE HILL TAKEN
The moment the bombardment ceased, the men rose and charged up the steep and bushy slopes of that rounded hill with fixed bayonets. The two Royal Irish Fusilier battalions were on the left (the side of greatest danger), the Dublins in the centre, the Inniskillings on the right. The 6th Lincolns and 6th Borders then passed through the line, and were, in fact, first in the charge. The hill was fortified by an old trench which ran completely round the circumference some yards below the summit. One long communication trench afterwards ran down the saddle or neck connecting the hill with “Hill 50” or “Green Hill” beyond, and probably followed the line of an old excavation. The Turks poured rifle-fire from the parapets, and fought gallantly with bayonets. But they were at last all killed or chased away. Just as the sun set over the distant peaks of Samothrace, the summit was gained. If only it had been gained as that sun rose!
The battalions spent the night in sorting themselves out, burying the dead, trying to collect the wounded in the darkness, bringing up what supplies they could find on the beach (all of which had to be carried on men’s backs), and, above all, in the endeavour to bring up water. A certain amount was being distributed on the beach, more than 2 miles off by the nearest way, which probably no one could find in the dark. And every drop had to be carried by hand in camp kettles or even in ammunition boxes or in water-bottles strung by the dozen round one man’s neck. The night was thus occupied, but thirst was not appeased. Before sunrise the 6th Lincolns and the 6th Borderers were withdrawn to rejoin their own brigade, the 7th South Staffords replacing them.
To return to the remaining battalions of the 10th Division. As we have seen, the Divisional General, Sir Bryan Mahon, arrived from Mudros with only three battalions—the 6th and 7th Munster Fusiliers of the 30th Brigade (Brigadier-General L. L. Nicol), and the 5th Royal Irish (Pioneers). In addition he was able to retain the 5th Inniskilling Fusiliers (31st Brigade) before it disembarked with Hill’s force. Ordering it to follow, he landed soon after 11 a.m. with the three battalions among the rocks near Suvla Point, where his men suffered much from contact mines. He then proceeded to climb Karakol Dagh, and passed through the shattered companies of the 11th Manchesters, who had early occupied this part of the rocky razor-edge. Deploying the Munsters in two lines, he advanced to the attack on Kiretch Tepe Sirt, the more lofty but continuous edge beyond. The ground is very difficult, being a steep hillside broken into rocks and craggy ravines, the lower slopes covered with high bush. The enemy delayed the advance along the whole mountain-side by accurate and concealed fire, causing many wounds and deaths, especially among officers. It was past sunset when the attacking force of Munsters, supported by the Royal Irish, came within about 100 yards of the highest knoll, which the Turks held strongly. Here the battalions, wearied and tormented by thirst, like the whole army corps, lay for the night. But next morning (August 8), the 6th Munsters under Major Jephson took the knoll by assault. It was afterwards known as Jephson’s Post, was fortified, in spite of its rocky and exposed position, and, but for a few hours in the next week, remained the farthest point in our lines along the north side of the bay.
RESULTS OF THE FIRST DAY
Thus, on the late evening of the 7th, we held the bay and both extremities, the Salt Lake, Hill 10, a point near Jephson’s Post on the north, and Chocolate Hill on the south-east. We had not even attempted W Hill, or Scimitar Hill, or the Anafarta plateau, or the Tekke Tepe mountain, and from all those points the bay was commanded. Except along the shore we had established no connection with Anzac, and could give no support at Sari Bair. Still, something had been gained. The landing had been effected punctually and with small loss. The 32nd and 34th Brigades had certainly lost much time in hanging about Hill 10, as though their work was done. The 31st Brigade had been hampered and delayed by confused commands and the varied positions allotted to it apart from its own Division. But the situation seemed fairly hopeful, and with energy and organisation all might be retrieved. Some battalions had lost heavily, but as a whole the loss was not great—for so large a movement. Only a little over 1000 wounded were taken off to the hospital ships.
From the evening of August 7 to the evening of August 8.
So satisfied was General Stopford with the situation that he telegraphed to Sir Ian that in his opinion Major-General Hammersley and his troops deserved great credit for the result attained. Anxiously awaiting news in General Headquarters at Imbros, Sir Ian replied with congratulations to General Stopford, stating also how much was hoped from Hammersley’s bold and rapid advance. The message must have been prompted by Sir Ian’s inborn optimism or by official courtesy and a desire to encourage action. For even before the telegram was sent, tormenting doubts intruded. It was Sunday morning. The Wellingtons and 7th Gloucesters had climbed the shoulder of Chunuk Bair; the 4th Australian Brigade was advancing to the assault up Koja Chemen Tepe by way of Abdel Rahman Bair; at Lone Pine the battle still raged desperately. If ever help from Suvla was called for, it was now. But from Suvla came only silence. Hardly a gun could be heard. No further message arrived.
In Suvla Bay itself a Sabbath peace appeared to reign. No shells burst; no bullets whined. It was evident that the Turks had withdrawn both guns and infantry during the night. We could walk at leisure round the whole beach from Suvla Point to Lala Baba. We could examine the surface of the Salt Lake, or climb Karakol Dagh and view the calm prospect over the Gulf of Xeros with equal security. Men whom good fortune had stationed near the beaches enjoyed the enviable refreshment of bathing in the sandy shallows. No attempt was being made seriously to push forward the advance, although W Hill, the most vital point, could have been occupied by little more than marching, and the distance even from the beach was 4 miles at most. There was no Turk along the whole range of Tekke Tepe.