A slight description of the country in which this attempt to straddle the peninsula was taking place may be of interest, as seen from the sea. On our left Suvla Point, with Nebruniessi Point to the right, formed a small bay known as Suvla Bay some mile and a half across. To the right of Nebruniessi Point a long gently curving sandy beach some four or five miles in extent terminated where the Australian position at Anzac rose steeply to the Sari Bair range. Inside and immediately in front of us was a large flat sandy plain covered with scrub, while the dry salt lake showed dazzlingly white in the hot morning sun. Immediately beyond was Chocolate Hill, and behind this again lay the village of Anafarta some four miles from the shore. As a background, the Anafarta ridge ran from the village practically parallel with the sea until it took a sharp turn due west to Suvla Point, where it gradually sloped down to the coast. Beyond the plain in front of us a number of stunted oaks, gradually becoming more dense further inland, formed excellent cover for the enemy's snipers—a mode of warfare at which the Turk has become an adept.
By climbing into the foretop of the vessel, it was possible to watch the living cinema of battle. Glasses were necessary to distinguish the light khaki of our men against the scrub and sand. The troops marching in open order across the salt lake formed a most stirring picture as they crossed the unbroken surface of silver-white. Overhead shrapnel burst unceasingly, leaving small crumpled forms on the ground, one or more of which would slowly rise and walk shorewards, while others lay where they fell. Beyond this open space it became almost impossible to follow the movements of the battle, but the continual rattle of musketry showed where the advance was proceeding into the more thickly wooded plain. Our hopes that the surrounding ridges would be taken before nightfall were unfortunately not realised. The enemy, though not in great strength to commence with, were continually reinforced, while the broken nature of the ground made anything like perfect cohesion amongst our various units extremely difficult. To make matters still worse, the enemy's shells caused dense bush fires, which, driven by the wind, burst into sheets of flame. Great difficulty was experienced in dealing with snipers. Officers and men were continually shot down, not only by rifle fire from advanced posts of the enemy, but by men and even women behind our own firing-line. The particular kind of tree in this part, a stunted oak, lends itself peculiarly to concealment, being short with dense foliage. Here, a sniper would lurk with face painted green and so well hidden as to defy detection. Others would crouch in the dense brushwood, where anyone passing could be shot with ease. When discovered, these snipers had in their possession enough food and water for a considerable period as well as an ample supply of ammunition. Although this seems a murderous kind of warfare, there is no question as to the pluck of the sniper, of whatever nationality, for he has little chance of getting back to his comrades and small likelihood of quarter if caught.
Water, or rather the want of it, was a serious bar to our progress in the initial stages. Those who formed the first landing-parties carried provisions and water for forty-eight hours; but in a country of this nature and under a boiling sun it is naturally impossible to convince the young soldier fighting in a temperature he has never experienced before, of the necessity of husbanding his water supply. So it proved in this instance. The advanced troops were completely exhausted by thirst. Could this have been remedied at once it is certain a different tale would have been told.
The question which now arose amongst those who were conducting the naval side of the operations was, how long would the Turkish guns allow the shipping to remain in the harbour (it became a harbour, theoretically, as soon as the steamer detailed for the work had laid submarine defence nets).
The bay was now thickly crowded with shipping, including such tempting bait as big transports full of troops, store-ships, and every kind of vessel which goes to the support of an army. Yet, fortunately, we were only subjected to intermittent shell-fire, the Turks probably experiencing some difficulty in getting guns into position in addition to those required against the troops.
It was not until the 12th August that any serious action was taken by the enemy against the ships in harbour. On that day the vessels inside the defence net consisted of a large monitor lying close in shore, several smaller monitors at intervals off the beach, the Cornwall, Chatham, and Swiftsure, and a number of transports and storeships. The Swiftsure was the flagship of Rear-Admiral Christian, who conducted the naval side of the operations.
Shortly after midday the Turks opened fire on the monitor Havelock. The range was good, but the first shells were ineffective, though they fell close round her. As she was lying at anchor, and things were becoming rather uncomfortable, she weighed and was just moving when a shell burst on the upper deck behind the funnel, without, however, doing serious damage. The enemy's gunners realising now that their chances of hitting the Havelock were small, turned their attention to the Swiftsure. The latter, surrounded as she was by picket-boats and lighters, found it difficult to get under weigh quickly. Several of us were standing on the quarter-deck of the flagship when the shells began to come in our direction. The first shell pitched some fifty yards short; the next passed overhead, falling fairly close to our port side. They had our range to a nicety. The probability that the third would hit us caused a hurried exodus below deck, where, although the protection afforded was not great, one felt a sense of security which was perhaps more theoretical than practical. Almost immediately the heavy thud of a projectile outside the ward-room told us that our judgment was not far wrong. Fortunately this failed to explode, and was afterwards picked up on the net shelf. Another entered the ship's side close to the padre's cabin, and, going through three steel partitions, brought up in the petty officers' pantry, where a peaceful domestic was engaged in washing-up. Fortunately for him this also failed to explode. Immediately afterwards three high explosive shells came inboard on the upper deck, and bursting there killed 7 men and wounded 16. Curiosity in this case had overcome a sense of prudence, for they had been watching the enemy's attempt to drive us out of the harbour.
The numerous picket-boats, lighters, etc., had now left us, so we were able to get weigh on the ship. We slowly steamed in a circle without going outside the defence net, in case a submarine might be lying in wait as part of a preconceived plan. The fact that we had moved from our former billet was sufficient to stop the enemy's fire, as practically all his guns were field artillery, making it almost impossible to follow a moving object with the accuracy of a naval gun.
It is not my intention to attempt any elaborate description of the land operations, as it was very difficult to obtain really reliable news. Moreover, after the first few days, the Turks had succeeded in bringing up a number of fresh troops and artillery, and were strongly entrenched. It was increasingly evident, therefore, that, unless a very large body of men could be brought up the advance had virtually ceased and resolved itself into a digging-in competition. Up till now the Turks had made no concerted effort to drive us out; but one night, at about eight o'clock, a heavy bombardment suddenly commenced on the left flank, which lasted about an hour and a half. The sky was lit by hundreds of bursting shrapnel, high explosives and star shells: the prelude, presumably, to an attack in force. From our position in the bay it certainly looked as if a big fight were in progress, and a great deal of speculation was rife on the ships in harbour as to the outcome. About 9.30 a signal arrived from the Headquarters 9th Army Corps, saying "Situation well in hand." It appeared, for some reason unknown to us, that the enemy had entirely failed to follow up the bombardment and attack. Indeed, as far as could be ascertained, not a single Turk had left the trenches, and we afterwards learned from deserters that even flogging and threats had failed to move them.
After this, day succeeded day with a desultory artillery duel morning and evening, the afternoons being presumably spent by the Turks in a siesta. Little was accomplished by the artillery fire, beyond the annoyance caused by shells falling amongst the stores and dug-outs at the bases. It was astonishing to see high explosive shells bursting in what appeared to be crowded areas and to learn afterwards from the soldiers that comparatively few casualties had resulted. Certainly, at times, a shell would cause considerable damage, especially if it fell on rock or hard earth: one of these killed and wounded upwards of 100 mules, and another, which I saw, killed 9 men and wounded 7; but these were exceptions. The Red Cross dressing stations had been shelled in the early days of the landing, as, owing possibly to the restricted area held by us, or more probably to carelessness and want of thought, large quantities of stores and ammunition were landed close to the dressing stations. These suffered considerably in consequence from shell-fire. This was not a deliberate act, as no nation could possibly have conducted warfare in a more above-board and clean-handed manner than the Turks. The fact that such qualities could be attributed to the Turk was a surprise to me, though naval officers generally have long regarded him as the gentleman of the Eastern Mediterranean. This is further borne out by his reported refusal to use poisonous gas when attacking.