The moment had now come for making up my mind. I did so, and told Hammersley in the most distinct terms that I wished this Brigade to advance at once and dig themselves in on the crestline.[6] If the Brigade could fix themselves upon the heights overlooking Anafarta Sagir they would make the morning advance easy for their comrades and would be able to interfere with and delay the Turkish reinforcements which might try and debouch between the two Anafartas during the night or march down upon Suvla from the North. Viewed from the sea or studied in a map there might be some question of this hill, or that hill, but, on the ground it was clear to half an eye that Tekke Tepe was the key to the whole Suvla Bay area. If by dawn, I said, even one Company of ours was well entrenched on the Tekke Tepe height we should have the whip hand of the enemy in the opening moves next morning.
Hammersley said he understood my order and that the advance should be put in hand at once. Malcolm hurried off; I left a little before 6.30 and went, via the Chatham, back to the Triad. The Arno had by now come in, but de Robeck has kindly asked me not to shift quarters if Anzac and Helles troubles will permit me to stay the night at Suvla.
All was dead quiet ashore till 11 p.m. I was on the bridge until then and, seeing and hearing nothing, felt sure the Brigade had made good Tekke Tepe and were now digging themselves in.
Captain Brody dined. The scraps of news picked up from the sailormen, mainly by young Brodrick, confirm what the soldiers had told us about the landing inside Suvla Bay along the narrow strip of land West of the Salt Lake. The attacks on Hill 10 went to pieces, not against the Turks, but by mishap. The first assault made by one or two Companies succeeded, but the assailants were taken for Turks and were attacked in turn and driven off by others of our men. A most distressing affair.
If there was hesitation and mix-up in the general handling, the Regimental folk atoned and there were many incidents of initiative and daring on the part of battalions and companies.
Mahon with some of his Irish and a Manchester Battalion are fighting well and clearing Kiretch Tepe Sirt. Until this morning bullets from that ridge were falling on "A" Beach; now the working parties are not in any way disturbed.
9th August, 1915. Imbros. With the first streak of dawn I was up on the bridge with my glasses. The hills are so covered with scrub that it was hard to see what was going on in that uncertain light, but the heavyish shrapnel fire was a bad sign and the fact that the enemy's guns were firing from a knoll a few hundred yards East of Anafarta Sagir was proof that our troops were not holding Tekke Tepe. But the Officer of the Watch said that the small hours passed quietly; no firing ashore during the hours of darkness. Could not make head or tail of it!
As the light grew stronger some of ours could be seen pushing up the western slopes of the long spur running out South-west from Anafarta. The scrub was so thick that they had to climb together and follow-my-leader along what appeared to be cattle tracks up the hill. On our right all seemed going very well. Looking through naval telescopes we thought—we all thought—Ismail Oglu Tepe height was won. Very soon the shrapnel got on to those bunches of men on our left and there was something like a stampede from North to South. Looking closer we could see the enemy advancing behind their own bursting shrapnel and rolling up our line from the left on to the centre. Oh for the good "Queen Bess," her high command, and her 15-inch shrapnel! One broadside and these Turks would go scampering down to Gehenna. The enemy counter-attack was coming from the direction of Tekke Tepe and moving over the foothills and plain on Sulajik. Our centre made a convulsive effort (so it seemed) to throw back the steadily advancing Turks; three or four companies (they looked like) moved out from the brush about Sulajik and tried to deploy. But the shrapnel got on to these fellows also and I lost sight of them. Then about 6 a.m., the whole lot seemed suddenly to collapse:—including the right! Not only did they give ground but they came back—some of them—half-way to the sea. But others made a stand. The musketry fire got very heavy. The enemy were making a supreme effort. The Turkish shell fire grew hotter and hotter. The enemy's guns seemed now to be firing not only from round about Anafarta Sagir, but also from somewhere between 113 and 101, 2,500 yards or so South-west of Anafarta. Still these fellows of ours; not more than a quarter of those on the ground at the outset—stuck it out. My heart has grown tough amidst the struggles of the Peninsula but the misery of this scene well nigh broke it. What kept me going was the sight of Sari Bair—I could not keep my eyes off the Sari Bair ridge. Guns from all sides, sea and land, Turks and British, were turned on to it and enormous explosions were sending slices off the top of the high mountain to mix with the clouds in the sky. Under that canopy our men were fighting for dear life far above us!
Between 7.30 and 8.0 the Turkish reinforcements at Suvla seemed to have got enough. They did not appear to be in any great strength: here and there they fell back: no more came up in support: evidently, they were being held: failure, not disaster, was the upshot: few things so bad they might not be worse. By 8.0 the musketry and the shelling began to slacken down although there was a good deal of desultory shooting. We were holding our own; the Welsh Division are coming in this morning; but we have not sweated blood only to hold our own; our occupation of the open key positions has been just too late! The element of surprise—wasted! The prime factor set aside for the sake of other factors! Words are no use.
Looked at from the bridge of the Triad—not a bad observation station—the tendency of our men to get into little groups was very noticeable: as if they had not been trained in working under fire in the open. As to the general form of our attack against the hills on our right, it seemed to be what our French Allies call décousu. After a whole day's rest and preparing, there might have been more form and shape about the movement. Yet it was for the sake of this form and shape that the Turkish reinforcements have been given time to get on to the heights. Our stratagems worked well, but there is a time limit set to all make-believes; the hour glass of fate was set at forty-eight hours, and now the sands have run out.