"As to the fighting by which this has been accomplished, there is nothing from beginning to end that any army need be ashamed of. Every word I sent home in my Proemial cables might have been published without raising a blush to the cheek of the most ardent Imperialist. In saying this I do not, of course, assume that raw troops could tackle a totally strange and uncomfortable proposition with the swift directness and savvy of veterans. The feat performed by the Australians and New Zealanders was of the class of the storming of the heights of Abraham, only it was infinitely, infinitely more difficult in every respect.
"On the other side, still assuming the philosophical mantle, consider what might have happened. Had the Australians and New Zealanders been average troops, they would perhaps have burst through the first series of wire entanglements and trenches, but they would not have stormed the second, still less the third, fourth, fifth or sixth lines. Again, had the Turks got the smallest inkling of our intention, the landing at Suvla Bay would have failed altogether, and the New Armies would have been virtually smashed to pieces without being able to show any quid pro quo.
"We soldiers out here have then it seems to me, much for which to thank God on our bended knees. That, at least, is my personal attitude.
"How is it then that our letters from home are filled with lamentations and that, having just gained a proportionately very large accretion of territory, we see headlines in the papers such as 'The Gallipoli standstill,' whereas it does not seem to occur to anyone to speak about 'The French standstill'?
"Well, I will tell you. The system upon which the Press Bureau approaches the eagerly attentive ear of the British Public is the reason.
"Why I begged the War Office to change the method by which I sent copies of my Proemial cables to Maxwell was that I found he (animated, of course, by the best intentions) was improving the successes and minimising the failures. The finishing touch was given when, one day, he inserted the phrase 'The enemy is demoralized and has to submit by day and by night to our taking his trenches.' Obviously, even the most stupid fellaheen after reading such a sentence must, in the course of time, begin to ask himself how, if trenches are being easily taken by day and by night, we still remain on the wrong side of Achi Baba!
"Turning now to the Press Bureau and our landing, there was nothing in that landing, as I have just said, which need have caused sorrow to a soul in the British Isles excepting, of course, the deplorable heavy casualties which are inseparable now from making any attack. But, on the 23rd of August a correspondent cables to an American paper a sensational story of a decisive victory, which the Press Bureau must have known to be a tissue of lies. Had the lies taken the shape of disasters to the British there would not, from the point of view of us soldiers, have been the smallest objection to publishing them. Suppose Mr. X, for instance, had said that the landing did not succeed, and had been driven off with immense slaughter? Apart from the fact that such a cable would have made many poor women in England unhappy for a few hours, the fabrication would have done us positive good: when the truth was known the relief would have been enormous, we would have gained handsome recognition of what had actually been done, and German inspired lies would have been discounted in future.
"But there is no moral in the world that can stand against a carefully engineered disappointment. When you know perfectly well that the spirits of the people are bound to be dashed down to the depths within a few days, it is unsound statesmanship surely so to engineer the Press that you raise those selfsame spirits sky high in the meantime. To climb up and up is a funny way to prepare for a fall! If you know that your balloon must burst in five minutes you use that time in letting out gas, not in throwing away ballast. If you want to spoil a man's legacy of £500 tell him the previous evening he has been left £50,000!
"As I began by saying, do please forgive me, my dear Callwell, for taking up your most precious time. But you are more in touch with this particular business than anyone else at the War Office and, from your large mindedness, I feel sure you will be able to spare me some sympathy, and perhaps even get some recognition for the general principle I herewith put forward:—