THE 5TH NORFOLKS DISAPPEAR
Unfortunately, even this hope was disappointed. Though the 54th Division had not come under serious fire, the Brigadiers in both Divisions reported that they were not yet ready for the attack. General Inglefield, however, was able to send forward one brigade in advance. It was the 163rd (Brigadier-General F. F. W. Daniell), consisting of the 4th and 5th Norfolks and the 5th Suffolks and 8th Hants. The advance began in the afternoon, and the brigade reached the farm called Anafarta Ova, though the enemy’s opposition steadily increased as the forest and bush became thicker. Then occurred one of the minor but startling tragedies of the war. The 5th Norfolks, on the right of the brigade, were led by Colonel Sir Horace Beauchamp, a bold and self-confident cavalry officer, who had commanded the 20th Hussars, and seen hard service in Egypt, the Soudan, and South Africa. In the army he had been known as “The Bo’sun” owing to his love and knowledge of the sea.[195] Perhaps inspired by old memories, perhaps hoping to inspire Territorials also with the tradition of Regulars, or to show the Generals what this Division could do under dashing leadership, he led his battalion rapidly forward in advance of the brigade. He was last seen among the scattered outbuildings of the farm, carrying a cane and encouraging his men to follow. They reached the rising ground from which the steep front of Tekke Tepe springs. Whether Colonel Beauchamp intended to carry the mountain unassisted, or to secure the edge of the Anafarta plateau to his right front, cannot be known. The bush grew thicker; the battalion lost formation; the enemy’s fire increased; many stragglers turned back and reached the Division during the night.
“But,” in Sir Ian’s words, “the Colonel, with 16 officers and 250 men, still kept pushing on, driving the enemy before him. Amongst those ardent souls was part of a fine company enlisted from the King’s Sandringham estates. Nothing more was ever seen or heard of any of them. They charged into the forest, and were lost to sight or sound. Not one of them ever came back.”
One cannot doubt that their bones lie among the trees and bushes at the foot of that dark and ominous hill, and the last real hope of Suvla Bay faded with their tragic disappearance.
In spite of all discouragement, Sir Ian’s mind was still set on securing a further advance by the occupation of Kavak and Tekke Tepes. He agreed to the postponement of attack for another twenty-four hours, and it was arranged for the night and morning of August 13–14. But on the afternoon of the 13th (Friday), on returning to Suvla with Major-General Braithwaite, his Chief of Staff, he found that General Stopford still raised objections. Two out of his four Divisional Generals despaired of success. The line, he considered, was already too long for his troops. Some of the brigades were still disorganised and shaken. Finding that this temper of uncertainty and depression prevailed, Sir Ian could do nothing but cancel the scheme of attack, and order the IXth Corps to reorganise and consolidate a line as far forward as possible.
THE 10TH DIVISION ON AUGUST 15
One further effort was, however, made on Sunday, August 15, when General Stopford called upon the Irish 10th Division to advance along the Kiretch Tepe Sirt in the direction of Ejelmer Bay. The two brigades now under Sir Bryan Mahon advanced along the lofty ridge, part along the summit, the rest strung out down the steep slope towards the sea. The brigades were the 30th (Nicol’s) and 31st (Hill’s). On the reverse or southern slope the 162nd (De Winton’s) Brigade, 54th Division, advanced through thick bushes and deep ravines in support. An unusual amount of artillery was employed. The 15th Heavy Battery had arrived a few days before. The 58th Brigade R.F.A. (10th Division) had marched along the coast from Anzac with safety, and all these guns were engaged, besides a mountain battery, some machine-guns, and the guns of the destroyers Grampus and Foxhound, firing from the Gulf of Xeros. But in spite of this support the advance moved very slowly. It started about noon, and crept bit by bit along the “whale-back,” a good line being kept from the summit down to the sea, but halts frequent, and progress difficult. The ground was all rocky, and most of it covered with prickly scrub, burnt in parts. The summit was bare rock, and the distance to be traversed under fire about a mile and a half. A prisoner told us the Turks had six fresh battalions in line or in strongly fortified redoubts, each battalion provided with twelve machine-guns. That may be exaggerated, but the machine-guns were numerous and deadly. Soon after the beginning of the general advance, Major Jephson was mortally wounded upon the Post which he had originally won and which always bore his name.
Meantime, the 5th Inniskilling Fusiliers, supported by the 6th, had been extended over the southern slope in front of the 162nd Brigade. Here the difficulties of advance were even greater, owing to the tangle of very thick and lofty bush, the steep gullies, the inability of the naval guns to afford assistance, and the deadly fire from the long Turkish trench running down the slope in front, as well as from the guns on the Anafarta and W Hills. Having left the summit, I happened to be with this part of the attack soon after five o’clock, and found the men broken up into small groups by the impenetrable bush. Their loss, especially in officers, was very heavy. Again and again the groups attempted to combine and advance, but were driven back by the storm of fire. Progress on that side was impossible. Three battalions of the 162nd Brigade (10th and 11th London and 5th Beds) supported the attack upon these foothills, and gained their supposed objective, but suffered heavy loss.
Suddenly, hearing a yell of shouting on our left, I looked up to the summit, and saw a body of men charging along it with flashing bayonets. Others, standing up on higher ground behind them, were pouring out a rapid magazine fire. Two companies of the 6th Munsters and two of the 6th Dublins had worked half-way along the edge between Jephson’s Post and the Pimple. The remaining 250 yards they now covered with a charge, cheering as they ran. Some Turks met bayonet with bayonet, and died. Some threw up their hands. Most ran. One could see them scurrying back along the ridge and down the southern slope. The Irish pursued them through the Pimple redoubt and beyond. It was six o’clock.[196]
In the gathering darkness the men attempted to build small sangars of the rocks, but no real trenching was possible. They lay out in lines along the seaward slope just below the summit. Then the failure to win the southern slope was bitterly felt. Twice in the night the Turks counter-attacked, creeping along that landward side, and, for the first attack, rushing over the top, only to be cut down by rifle and bayonet. In the attack just before dawn they trusted chiefly to a deadly form of round bomb, which they lobbed over the crest in vast numbers. The Irish could only reply with improvised jam-pot bombs, and few of those. Sometimes, however, they caught the Turkish bombs and flung them back. Private Wilkin, of the 7th Dublins, flung back five, but was blown to pieces by the sixth.