On April 27th, when I was at “V” Beach, I saw a “75” battery being hauled up from the shore. I was standing amongst some French soldiers, and one standing next to me turned to me and pointed to the guns, saying “Soixante-quinze, bon—eh?” He looked upon them with pleasure and almost awe. Then I did not appreciate their immense worth, but now I do. We strolled back in the evening, had a peaceful dinner, and at night, but for fitful bursts of rifle fire, all was quiet. Mowatt, my friend of Birmingham days, looks in to have a chat, but his conversation is rather depressing to us all.
If his theories are right, then we are stuck here in front of Achi till the end of the war—or driven into the sea. A listener to one of his arguments puts forward the theory that if we had effected a landing at the Bulair Lines, the Peninsula, being cut off from Turkey in Europe, would automatically have fallen into our hands; but that theory is immediately exploded by the knowledge of the fact that at present Chanak, on the Asiatic side, is the main source of supply, via Maidos on the Peninsula separated as they are from each other by under a mile of the water of the Straits, easily crossed by regular ferries. From Chanak we believe that the enemy receives nearly all his ammunition, stores, supplies, and reinforcements, which are ferried to Maidos and transported from there by pack-mules to their army on the Hill. We have seen convoys of pack-mules now and again on the slopes of Achi Baba, but they seldom show themselves, for fear of the heavy shells from the guns of the Fleet. But they must swarm over each night.
Mowatt says that if an army of ours landed at the Lines of Bulair, it would be flanked on either side by Turkish armies, one on the Peninsula and one on the mainland. Both these armies would be kept in the field by plentiful and safe sources of supply, and our army would quickly find itself in an ever-tightening vice, rendering it in a short time impotent. He argues that once it had been decided to land on the Peninsula we landed at the right place, but that the success of taking the hill might have fallen to our armies if the Australians had landed where the 29th landed, namely at Helles, on the tip of the Peninsula, and if the 29th had landed up the coast behind Achi, where the Australians had landed. The 29th, being a more tried and disciplined machine, would have conquered its way to Maidos, forming a line of steel behind the small Turkish Army (we are told its strength was about 30,000 men on April 25th), and this Turkish Army, being cut off in rear, would have fallen a victim to the oncoming gallant and all-conquering Australians and New Zealanders. The fall of Constantinople would not have been far off, the Straits would have been opened to the Allied Fleets. Another theory is that a landing could then have been effected at Alexandretta, north of Syria, and a march from there could have been made by a strong and overwhelming army of French and British to the gates of Bagdad, and that after the fall of Bagdad we should have been able to link up with the Russian Army. Then there would follow a sweep through Asia Minor to the coast of the Marmora and shores of the Dardanelles, the Fleet would dash up the Narrows to the Golden Horn, and, as the Arabs say, “Turkey mafisch.”
Mowatt appears to have studied the question logically, but it is the Staff’s job to think these things out and ours to do our job in our humble way.
However, he depresses us, and I shall have to go and have a chat to those Naval optimists again.
Sed-el-Bahr is a mass of ruins now, but, however ruined a village may be, one can always picture to a certain extent what it was like in its lifetime. Sed-el-Bahr must have been a very charming place before the bombardment, with its ancient fifteenth-century houses, orchards, and gardens. The fort, evidently fifteenth or sixteenth century, is a very picturesque and massive building, having spacious chambers with the roofs going up in a dome shape—more egg shape though, than dome—made of solid masonry, four or five feet thick. The walls also are just as thick, but the guns of the Queen Elizabeth simply smashed through them like butter.
It is wonderful how the country in our possession to date has changed. Roads are being made everywhere. Pipes lead from wells to troughs. Piers run out from beaches. Sides of cliffs have little dugouts and little houses and terraces, with names given them, such as “Sea View” and “Lancaster Terrace,” such names being officially recognized. Also camps and horse lines are everywhere. Big gun has been shelling “V” Beach to-day; “Y” Beach is now known as Gurkha Beach.
May 24th.
Perfect day after ten; very heavy rain earlier. My job to draw supplies from Main Supply depot for Division. Rotten job, which starts at six. Brigade not moved.
Hear that Italy has definitely come in. This closes a channel of supplies into Austria and Germany, and is bound to tell in a few months.