CHAPTER VIII
FIGHT FOR KISLAH DAGH[ToC]
GALLANT STAND AND FALL OF THE 7TH DUBLINS
The objective of the new operations was the last crest of Kiretsh Tepe Sirt, or, as some call it, Kislah Dagh—a continuation of the Karakol Dagh, which the Munsters had taken—beyond which it dips and swings southward. Telegraphing from Alexandria, on August 19th, the special representative of the Press Association says, in the vague way then enjoined by the Censor, "The attacking troops were a Division which was almost wholly Irish, and which had already the capture of Chocolate Hill to its credit." The battalions engaged were, as a fact, entirely Irish.
The Munsters and 6th Dublins, advancing from different sides, commenced the attack about midday. "In two hours we had not advanced twenty yards, so heavy and well directed was the fire of the enemy," writes the Colonel of one of the battalions of the Munsters. "Our second in command, most gallant of officers, was mortally wounded, and many others had fallen. Two companies, however, under cover of some dead ground, had managed to get some 200 yards ahead of the rest of the line, and these companies were now ordered to make a strong demonstration up the hill in order to try to weaken the resistance on the top. Fixing bayonets they rushed up with a wild Irish yell, and so great was their dash that they actually reached the crest. The Turks, appearing from behind every rock and bush, flung down their arms, and held up their hands. Many prisoners were taken, but the charge did not stop. On it swept along the ridge, and the last peak of all was captured before the enemy could make a stand." Here is an equally spirited account of the final charge, written by a man in the ranks, Private Jack Brisbane, of Buttevant, Co. Cork: "The 6th Munsters charged with the bayonet. You often heard a shout in the hurling field. It would not be in it. They were like so many mad men. Go on, Munsters! Up the Munsters! Even the sailors in the harbour heard it, and climbed up the rigging to try to get a view of it, and shouted themselves hoarse. Up the Munsters! It was grand. I am proud to be one of them. Father Murphy, our priest, said the evening after, when he came to give the boys his blessing: 'Well done, Munsters; you have done well,' so says the General. Father Murphy is a fine priest. His last word is: 'Boys, I'm proud I'm an Irishman.'"
Lieutenant Neol E. Drury, of the 6th Dublins, who before the war was a partner in a Dublin firm of papermakers, supplies the following spirited account of the action of his battalion in the operations:—
"About 4 o'clock everything seemed ready for a charge, so 'Fix bayonets' was the order, and, by Jove, the sight in the sun was ripping. There were several warships lying along the font of the ridge, and all the crews were lining the decks watching the fight. When the flash of the bayonets showed up in the sun a tremendous cheer came up to us. 'Cheer, oh! the Dubs!' Everyone yelled like mad, and charged up the remaining piece of ground as if it had been level. The bhoys put it across the Turks properly, and I can tell you there were not many shining bayonets when we finished. We drove them off the ridge, helter skelter, and they fairly bunked, throwing away rifles and equipment wholesale. When we got to the top we had five machine-guns playing on them as they ran down the other side, and as our chaps watched them from the summit they cheered and waved their helmets like mad, all the other troops back along the ridge and the ships' crews joining in."
"Throughout the night the enemy, strongly reinforced, delivered counter-attacks, one after another," writes the same commanding officer of the Munsters. "The fighting was severe and bloody, but we held on, and the morning found us still in possession of what we had gained, though our losses had been terribly heavy." He goes on: "I wish I could retail half the acts of individual heroism performed during those hours—how one sergeant and one corporal, the former I believe had been destined for the priesthood, the latter only a boy, threw back the enemy's hand grenades before they could burst one after another, and failing these threw large stones. Alas! before morning they had both paid the penalty of their gallantry. In the morning we were relieved, but the roll call was a sad revelation. My observer, who had been my groom when we had our horses, shot through the body in the charge, refused to be removed until the doctor promised him that he would personally tell me that he was wounded, fearing that I might think he had not followed me. The doctor faithfully fulfilled his promise, though it cost him a long walk at night. Such was the spirit of all ranks. Other units, of course, were equally gallant." An extract from another letter must be given here, as it reveals one of the little tragedies of war, and the endurance and resolution of the men. Sergeant Gallagher, of D company of the Inniskillings, which was transferred to the Munsters and went into action with them, got a bullet in his right eye and was made stone blind. "I have a confession to make," he writes from hospital to the recruiting officer at Strabane, "I deceived you when you enlisted me. I had a glass eye, and now I have lost the other. I hope to be back in Strabane soon, but I shall never see the glen again, and watch the trout leaping behind the bridge. But I am happy, and we showed these Turks what Irishmen can do. No matter what happens I have done my bit, and I would not exchange with the best man at home."
The casualties among the other units were equally severe. On Sunday, late in the afternoon, the 7th Dublins got the word to push on to the crest of the hill and relieve the battalions that had captured it. They advanced in the mode of progression which alone was possible—slowly, in single file, crawling through the thick prickly scrub, sinking in the sand, stumbling over the rocks. It was laborious and exhausting work. All the time they were harassed by snipers. On the way up their commanding officer, Colonel Downing, was twice hit, and, being disabled, had to be left behind. Gaining the top of the hill, they relieved the Munsters and the 6th Dublins, and entrenched themselves as best they could, under the ridge, on the near side by working hard throughout the night.