Gallipoli (45 page)

Yes, Sir William, things really are that bad.

As the sound of rifle and machine-gun rolls over them, interspersed with the regular boom of artillery, exploding shells and the moans of dying men, they continue to give Birdwood their best estimates of the situation. It is not simply that the Anzacs have lost many men – which may run to as high as 4000, one-quarter of the total landed – it is that the Turk is fighting far harder than the Allies could have possibly imagined. And yes, the Turks have suffered some 4000 casualties themselves on the first day, but now fresh battalions are being rushed forward to replace the fallen, just as Colonel Mustafa Kemal had foreseen.
⁵⁴

As to the Anzacs, there are precious few reserves to go in where they are falling in the frontline, which is no more than half a mile from where they now meet. Morale, which had been so high upon landing, is in as short supply as water, and there are growing fears that the Turks will launch another major assault on the morrow and force their withdrawal.

Far from being able to quickly march on Constantinople, as they had naively hoped, the Allies will be lucky if they can survive the
night.

Birdwood, shocked that his worst nightmares now seem to be coming true, and yet still reluctant to acknowledge defeat of the Australians only 20-odd hours after they had landed, resists. General Bridges asks to have a quiet word with him and insists that, whatever happens, a decision has to be taken
tonight
, for the sake of the men. Birdwood relents partially …

He decides to couch his message to General Hamilton in stark terms. As General Godley writes it all down on the back of a white signal form, the machine-guns continue to chatter and the sound of men screaming and dying in the near distance is heard, even as shells continue to explode across the night sky, sending flickering light across his newly scrawled words:

One thing General Godley neglects to do, strangely, is to designate who, specifically, the note should go to, causing yet more confusion on this already catastrophically chaotic day … Nevertheless, it is handed to the Naval Commander of the steamboat that brought Ashmead-Bartlett to the shore, who now rushes back to his boat with the journalist in hot pursuit.

‘Go to the battleship
Queen
,' the Commander yells at his men – and, sure enough, the contours of the massive battleship are picked up after a short run and the note handed over.

‘What is our next move?' Ashmead-Bartlett asks him.

‘We've got to go to every transport in turn,' the naval man grimly replies, ‘and order them to send in their boats immediately to bring off the Australians.'
⁵⁶

And so from ship to ship they go in the darkness, with the Commander using a megaphone to have the crew roused to ‘hold her boats in readiness to send them ashore at a moment's notice'.
⁵⁷

Most of the Turks, up in their trenches on the ridges and gullies of this rugged triangle of land, continue the fight, even as a gentle drizzle sprinkles over them. Some men lie, exhausted, trying to sleep ‘nose-to-nose with the Australians, and all the more awake because of it'.
⁵⁸
Though they are tired and sore, at least their bellies are full, for many of them have collected and supped on the trail of loot that has dropped out of Anzac kits or been pilfered directly from the now dead cold Anzac bodies.

Midnight.

In his Master Cabin aboard the
Queen Elizabeth
, moored off Cape Helles, General Hamilton is fast asleep, after what has been a very tiring day. Yes, perhaps he could have stayed awake, waiting for more news from the shore, but there would have been little point. He knows the losses to have been heavy, and also that there is a good chance that if the Turks can get reinforcements in time they may even throw the Allies into the sea. But as he has confided to his diary, ‘I feel sanguine in the spirit of the men; sanguine in my own spirit; sanguine in the soundness of my scheme. What with the landing at Gaba Tepe and at Kum Kale, and the feints at Bulair and Besika Bay, the Turkish troops here will get no help tonight. And our fellows are steadily pouring ashore.'
⁵⁹

Sometimes, however, even those who are sleeping the sleep of the dead and the dead exhausted must answer to the world of the wide awake and alarmed, and so it is that, not long after midnight, General Hamilton is awoken by the shouts of his Chief of Staff, Major-General Walter Braithwaite.

‘Sir Ian! Sir Ian!'

Wh … wha …
what
is it?

‘Sir Ian, you've got to come right along,' Braithwaite is continuing to roar, ‘a question of life and death – you
must
settle it!'
⁶⁰

Given that Braithwaite has never acted like this in their long relationship – he is usually as deferential to Hamilton as he is dismissive of underlings – Sir Ian now comes instantly awake and, with his ‘British warms' over his pyjamas, is soon hurrying after Braithwaite down the narrow corridors to the dining saloon, where a spontaneously formed Council of War awaits him.

Hamilton takes one look at the faces of the senior officers awaiting him – led by Admiral de Robeck, Rear-Admiral Thursby and Commodore Roger Keyes – and knows, as ‘a cold hand clutched my heart', that things must be every bit as grim as Braithwaite has suggested.
⁶¹
And those men look at him, momentarily shocked to see the always impeccable English General with suddenly tousled hair and his dressing-gown draped across his shoulders.

After Hamilton reads the note from Birdwood out loud, in silence he then slowly turns to these, his most senior officers, and asks, ‘This is a difficult business … What are we to do about it?'
⁶²

A round-table conversation ensues. Can it really be as bad as those on shore are saying it is? Can those fine young men they farewelled just this morning really now be a shattered force? It seems almost impossible to believe.

Hamilton's most pertinent question is to Rear-Admiral Thursby, who has been responsible for getting the men on the shore and would now be responsible for getting them off. He asks him about the logistics and the time required for any evacuation.

‘It will take the best part of three days to get that crowd off the beaches,' Thursby gravely replies.

‘And where are the Turks?'

‘On top of 'em.'

‘Well, then,' Hamilton continues, seeking expert counsel on the matter before them, ‘tell me, Admiral, what do you think?'

‘What do I think? Well, I think myself they will stick it out if only it is put to them that they must.'
⁶³

Well, then, they must!

Commodore Keyes is particularly strong on this theme, saying if they can just hold on for two or three days, much of the pressure will be ‘relieved by the southern force moving up [from Cape Helles]'.
⁶⁴

Against that, there is no doubt that the situation is perilous in the extreme, and Keyes' enthusiasm for staying is not remotely backed by the others. The conversation swings back and forth, with the fate of 20,000 men riding on their decision …

Just outside, Lieutenant-Commander Charles Brodie – who has still not recovered emotionally from flying over the stricken
E15
on the morning of his twin brother's demise – is guarding the door like a lion before its lair, when one of the junior ratings rushes up with an urgent message that has come straight from the signals room.

With an obvious glint in his eye, knowing the importance of what he is about to present, he shows Brodie not only who the message is for – the Commander-in-Chief – but also, far more significantly, who it is
from
.

‘
AE2
.'

The Australian submarine.

Frantically, Brodie snatches the message and reads it. It is from Lieutenant-Commander Dacre Stoker.
AE2
has got through the minefields of the Dardanelles, and even through the Narrows.
And
, the crew has already sunk a Turkish ship!

Never mind that Brodie has strict orders from Commodore Keyes that the meeting is not to be interrupted under any circumstances; this cannot wait. Braving a glare from Keyes that would peel steel, Brodie bursts through the door without knocking to interrupt the meeting and is even strong enough to speak over Keyes' protestations, urging him to come outside with him to read the cable he has just received.

And, of course, once Keyes reads it, he too realises its significance and practically runs back into the meeting to advise the others.
AE2!
It has got
through
, he tells them in a loud voice.

‘Tell them this,' he suggests to Hamilton, nodding towards the troops on shore. ‘It is an omen. An Australian submarine has done the finest feat in submarine history and is going to torpedo all the ships bringing reinforcements, supplies and ammunition into Gallipoli.'
⁶⁵

The news is of course greeted with enormous excitement and great acclamation. With some flourish, thus, Hamilton finishes writing his message and reads to the gathering from the piece of paper he has in his hands:

After patting Hamilton on the back for the stout-heartedness and warrior nature of such a message – good old Hamilton, showing a lot of pluck when it is most needed – Keyes heads out the door with the message in his hands, to tell Brodie the news.

‘It's done the trick,' he says.
⁶⁷
Stoker's message has come just in the nick of time, providing the fillip of positive news they needed to keep the Anzacs on site.

It takes some doing, but, by 2 am, just as a gentle rain starts falling on the battlefield, Admiral Cecil Thursby is able to land, and he personally puts Hamilton's note in the hands of General Birdwood. They are staying. They are committed. They must dig in, hold on and strike back.

It has been a long, murderous day and night. And soon enough, just as the men on both sides had been praying for the night to fall, it is not long before they are praying for the dawn, a sunrise that many of them never thought they would see. The most significant sound that Charles Bean – who has already dug his own hole just back from the beach – can hear in the night is the sound of shovels scraping out furrows and then whole trenches. As the men dig – their rifles with bayonets still fixed, ready for action at a moment's notice – the cold rain increases in intensity, drenching them all to the bone.