On Saturday, the 21st August, all dispositions were completed, and a little before two o'clock in the afternoon the four ships, the Venerable, Swiftsure, Talbot, and Achates, which had previously anchored in single line ahead, as close to the shore as possible, bombarded Scimitar Hill, "W" ridge beyond it, and every known or probable enemy gun position. The Army heavy guns assisted.
In a very short time the Turks had to abandon many of their trenches; and if only it had been possible to continue bombarding until the attacking infantry had almost reached those trenches, the 29th Division might have stormed them without much loss.
But this was not possible. For one thing, the range was too great—over four miles—to make certain of not hitting our own troops. The ships had to cease fire, and thus gave time for the Turks to rush back to their trenches and bring their machine-guns along with them.
As the 29th Division advanced, some thirty or forty enemy guns opened on them with shrapnel and high explosives; and though a brigade stormed Scimitar Hill, its losses were so great that the remnant who gained the crest could not hold it against the tremendous whirlwind of fire from the higher ridges beyond and a fierce counter-attack.
Farther along, to the right, the remainder of the 29th Division and the 11th Division, attacking the southerly spurs of "W" ridge, gained a footing on them, but could not reach the crest.
The flat ground over which they had just advanced with such heavy loss was thickly covered with scrub and trees, and the high-explosive shells bursting among them quickly set this scrub alight in several places. These fires much hampered the rapid bringing up of supports.
At the commencement of the action, that division of dismounted yeomanry whose physique and bearing had so roused the admiration of all, was held in reserve behind Lala Baba, and rested there, in full view from the ships. At about half-past two or three o'clock these yeomen fell in, circled round the flank of Lala Baba, extended as they gained the open mud-flats of the Salt Lake, and commenced to advance across it towards Chocolate Hill. The Turkish gunners saw them almost immediately, and burst hundreds of shrapnel over their heads. No "gunners" could ask for a better target than these poor fellows made, and for twenty minutes they suffered terribly, without any hesitation or faltering in their ranks. To those who watched them from the main-top of the Achates, it was a wonderful relief when they gained the cover of the trees and thick scrub near Chocolate Hill and the shrapnel began to leave them alone.
Abreast the Achates, and some half-mile from the beach, was a little green mound, dignified with the name of "Hill 10" on the military map. On the rear slope of this, a field-gun battery had been very active all the afternoon, and presently the Turks thought it about time to put a stop to this. They turned one or two 5.9-inch guns on to Hill 10, and simply plastered it with high-explosive shells, bursting them with their horrid, rending thunder-claps every few seconds among the field-guns and the limbers in rear. For half an hour those field-guns pluckily went on firing, but they did not know where the big shells were coming from—nobody did—so none of the ships could help them, and at length they were compelled to cease fire and the gunners to take shelter.
"What are they? New Army or Territorials?" asked Uncle Podger. None knew; but, whoever they were, they put up a most plucky fight.
By five o'clock the smoke from the bush fires obscured the whole field of battle between Chocolate and Scimitar Hills, and, though the rattle of musketry and machine-guns went on continuously, no more of the fight could be seen from the Achates—only the ambulance wagons coming across the Salt Lake, and the stretcher-parties clearing away the wounded yeomanry.