THE FORCE—REAL AND IMAGINARY
22nd July, 1915. Imbros. Had a jolly outing to-day. Left for Cape Helles by trawler just before 10 o'clock. Aspinall, Bertier and young Brodrick came with me. Lunched at 8th Army Corps Headquarters with Stopford and handed him a first outline scheme of the impending operations. We read it through together and he seems to take all the points and to be in general agreement. Left Aspinall behind to explain any questions of detail which might not seem clear, whilst I went a tour of inspection through the Eski Lines of trenches held by the 6th and 7th Manchesters of the 42nd Division. These Eski Lines were first held about the 7th or 8th May and have since been worked up, mainly by the energy of de Lisle, into fortifications, humanly speaking, impregnable. General Douglas, Commander of the Division, came round with me. He reminds me greatly of his brother, the late Chief of the Imperial General Staff; excellent at detail; a conscientious, very hard worker. When I had seen my Manchester friends I passed on into the Royal Naval Division Lines. There General Paris convoyed me through his section as far as Zimmerman's Farm, where I was joined by Bailloud with his Chief of Staff and Chief of Operations. Together we made our way round the whole of the French trenches winding up at de Tott's Battery.
After this whopping walk, we left by pinnace from below de Tott's wondering whether the Asiatic Batteries would think us game worth their powder and shot. They did not and so we safely boarded our trawler at Cape Helles. Didn't get back to Imbros Harbour till 9 p.m. Being so late, boarded the ever hospitable Triad on chance and struck, as usual—hospitality. Hunter-Weston is really quite ill with fever. He did not want to see anyone. As we were sitting at dinner I saw him through the half open door staggering along on his way to get into a launch to go aboard a Hospital ship. He is suffering very much from his head. The doctors prophesy that he will pull round in about a week. I hope so indeed, but I have my doubts. Aspinall reports that Stopford is entirely in accord with our project and keen.
23rd July, 1915. Imbros. Spent day in camp trying to straighten things out: (1) the personal, (2) the strategical and (3) the administrative arrangements.
(1) Hunter-Weston has to go home and I have begged for Bruce Hamilton in his place, and have told them I would have a great champion in him. He and Smith-Dorrien were my best Brigadiers in South Africa. They stood on my right hand and on my left all the way between Bloemfontein and Pretoria, and I never quite made up my mind as to which was the better. Bruce is a fighting man with an iron frame, and, in Gallipoli, his chief crab, his deafness, will be rather a gain to him.
(2) Bailloud, with his own War Minister in the background, is doing all he knows to get 20,000 of my new troops allotted to a side show, not for strategy's sake, but for the tactical relief of his troops from the shelling. I quite sympathize with his reason as, after all, he is responsible for his own troops and not for the larger issue. But, to take one objection only, the Navy could not land a force at Besika Bay and at the same time carry out landings at Suvla and Anzac. Again, since Bailloud urged these views, the guns fixed up at de Tott's Battery have already begun to gain mastery over the fire from the site of Troy. When we have one of the new 14-inch gunned monitors moored off Rabbit Island we shall get cross fire observations and give the Turkish Asiatic guns the clean knock out. Amphibious operations are ticklish things: allied operations are ticklish things: but the two together are like skating on thin ice arm in arm with two friends who each want to cut a figure of his own.
(3) Slovenly bills of lading. Bertie Lawrence, who was sent to Mudros in June when things were growing desperate, was here yesterday and has made a report on the present business situation which, though less chaotic, is still serious. There are not launches enough to enable people to get about. There are not lighters enough to work the daily transhipment of 300 tons. But the worst trouble lies in the bills of lading. Sometimes they arrive a week after their ships. Usually cargo shipped at Malta or Alexandria is omitted. Half the time we can't lay hands on vital plant, tackle, supplies, munitions, because we have no means of knowing what is, or is not, on board some ship in the harbour. The trouble is of old date but has reached its climax owing to our shortage of rounds for our 18-pounders.
We were notified a new fuse key would be required for the new shells on the 12th June. The shells arrived but the keys were not despatched till the 15th July! The vouchers are all wrong, and there, in idleness, lies the stuff that spells success. A soldier is not a conjurer that he should be handed over a fully laden ship and told to ferret out a fuse key.
24th July, 1915. Last night the Turkish Commander drove his troops into their tenth attack upon our extreme left where they were beaten off as usual with a loss of several hundreds—this time we only suffered about a dozen casualties. Together with Braithwaite, I rode over to "K" Beach at 11 a.m. to inspect part of the 11th Division there encamped. General Hammersley, Divisional Commander, met me. Also Colonel Malcolm, his General Staff Officer and Major Duncan. The first Brigade I looked at was Sitwell's—the 34th. A fine looking lot of men:—
8th Northumberland Fusiliers,
5th Dorsets,
9th Lancashire Fusiliers,
1 Coy. 11th Manchester Fusilers.