Gallipoli (69 page)

Colonel Fahrettin, General Esat's Chief of Staff, has noted that something strange is going on at the Old Number Three Outpost, which sits at the seaward end of one of the spurs above Sazli Gully between Anzac and Suvla Bay. At around 9 pm, regular as clockwork, an enemy ship has been shining its searchlight on, and shelling, this spot before directing similar fire to Table Top Hill just to the north. Colonel Fahrettin orders the men at the outpost – the majority of whom have taken to sheltering at the rear of the position during the attacks, leaving the trenches virtually unmanned – to be ‘cautious and awake … It is clear that new enemy forces are on their way.'
³⁵

AFTERNOON, 5 AUGUST 1915, A MOB OF NEW ARRIVALS AT ANZAC

Abdul's at it again. Upon hearing the news that Warsaw has fallen to the might of the German Army, on this morning they put up placards in their front trenches reading, in ‘French' and ‘English',
WARCHEUVE EST TOMBE, LA CHUTE DE VARCHORD
, and
VARSAW ASH FALLIN
.
³⁶

‘Well,' says one Anzac sentry, as he lines up his rifle on the poles supporting the notices, ‘let's see if we can't make his notice fall too.'
³⁷
Within seconds, the notices
ASH FALLIN
too!

And now the new recruits are arriving. For starters, there are the newly arrived British soldiers of the IXth Corps' 13th Division, now on loan to Birdwood's ANZAC, who've arrived at Anzac Cove for the August Offensive. Smuggled in on the nights of 3, 4 and 5 August, so as not to arouse the suspicion of the Turks, and secreted in freshly excavated catacombs, trenches and dugouts, they seem little more than boys, and weedy ones at that. ‘Poor little chaps,' Bean writes, ‘they struck me as wretched little specimens of men – dirty, skinny, rather spiritless.'
³⁸
(Ashmead-Bartlett agrees, noting of other new ‘Kitchener Mob' arrivals, ‘This 11th Division of Kitchener's New Army does not impress one too favourably. Many of the men are a weedy-looking lot – thin, narrow-chested, and small.')
³⁹

The exception are the newly arrived Australian reinstoushments – clearly well fed from the comparatively sumptuous fare in the camps in Egypt – and frequently all but jumping out of their skin in their eagerness to see action, to be part of the war, to be blooded, to not miss out.

Answering to the latter description is Hugo Throssell, who, at last, joins the rest of the 10th Light Horse on Russell's Top and Walker's Ridge, where he is immediately embraced by his brother Ric – promoted to
Sergeant
, now, if you please – and buried in the bear hugs, handshakes and back-slapping of so many of his comrades, whom he has not seen for nigh on three months. Some of them he barely recognises, and he is deeply grieved to note the ones who are missing. Still, the only person who may possibly outdo him in his enthusiasm to be here is the man over there puffing contentedly on his pipe, Colonel Noel Brazier, who has preceded Throssell by a few days – ‘looking as fat as a whale and fit as a fiddle'.
⁴⁰

Only shortly after setting foot on the sacred shores, the Colonel hears that he has arrived just in time for a major action that the 10th Light Horse is to take part in.

Action, at last!

6 AUGUST 1915, ABOVE ANZAC COVE, PUMP PRIMED ON BIRDIE BULL

Something
is
going on, Mehmet!

From on high the Sari Bair Range, five transports are spotted off the beaches by the alert Turks and there is a mass of movement at the piers. Streams of donkeys burdened with ammunition boxes are soon seen trudging up the hills towards the frontlines, while the new troops beetle about below.

Turkish artillery opens fire onto the beach.

Down at the docks at Imbros, Ellis Ashmead-Bartlett is there as the newly arrived troops of the 11th Division pile into the new ‘beetle' style lighters – self-propelled, armour-plated landing craft, each holding 500 men, and so-called because of being painted black and having ramp arms that look like antennae – that will carry them into Suvla Bay, ‘a new battleground on bloodstained Gallipoli'.
⁴¹

‘To me it was a sad, almost pathetic spectacle,' writes the veteran correspondent. ‘How few have any realisation whatsoever of what modern war is like? How many who are now embarking, without a thought to the future, will be dead before the sun rises again?'
⁴²

Who can begin the August Offensive by making the first diversionary attack on the heavily entrenched Turks at Cape Helles? None other than some of the remains of the 29th Division – the very force that have already been so devastated by their battles here, dating from their first landing from
River Clyde
on 25 April. Since that time, their casualty rate has been nearly 50 per cent, but that matters little. For it is as in days of yore:

Late in the afternoon, the whistle blows and they charge forth into withering fire laid down by four Turkish divisions. Twice the Allies secure some Ottoman trenches; twice the counter-attacks obliterate their gains.

Worse, for such a sacrifice, it entirely fails as a diversion. At Fifth Army HQ, General von Sanders receives a message that the enemy has ‘failed to gain a foothold', and acts accordingly.
⁴⁴
He leaves his troops exactly where they have been.

At Anzac Cove, the situation is primed. That morning, General Birdwood has injected his ANZAC forces with a good dose of ‘Birdie Bull'. This day will see nothing less than our second advance on our way to Constantinople … The whole world has now heard of the action of the Australians and New Zealanders … and we therefore have to act up to an extraordinarily high standard to live up to our reputation.

They will advance on a wide front, Birdwood tells them, and must take the Turkish trenches and hold them against counter-attack.

Remember, men, the order of the day must be ‘shove on and keep shoving on' until we are in complete possession of the heights above us, when we hope we will have the Turks at our mercy.

We know that we have established a moral superiority over the Turks … Though they are terrified of the Australian and New Zealand soldiers in the open …
⁴⁵

The timing of the Lone Pine attack is particularly important. General Birdwood has scheduled it for 5.30 pm – several hours before General Stopford's forces make their landing at Suvla Bay – so that, ‘getting the Turkish reserves deeply committed on my own front, the opposition at Suvla would be proportionately weakened'.
⁴⁶

The previous evening, some of the senior officers of the 1st Brigade's 3rd Battalion – who, like all in 1st Brigade, are thrilled they are now going to have the chance to prove themselves as the 3rd Brigade had done on the day of the landing, and the 2nd Brigade at Krithia – had discussed at what time on this day the men should have their rum issued. The Colonel had been strong: ‘I believe the “issue” will be a good tonic to the men in their present condition, but I do not like the idea of giving it to them just before they go into action. We will have one “issue” in the morning, and the other after the fight is over.' This decision, Charles Bean would proudly note, ‘is supported by the medical officer, Capt J. W. B. Bean, and was adopted for the 3rd Battalion'.
⁴⁷

That morning – in the first sign that they were about to go into action – soldiers had been issued with a white strip of calico together with a big white patch (remarkably similar to the white armbands previously forced onto those with VD). They had had to sew the strips onto the sleeves of their shirts at the level of their biceps, while the patch had been sewn onto their backs. It is hoped these will help to identify the Australians to each other when the fog of war is at its thickest.

Those men who can, nap. Others stare. Still others sharpen their bayonets with the fervour of those convinced it might be the difference between life and death. The sun shines hotly. The birds are singing. And there are even butterflies.

A few hundred yards away in his dugout, Bean is writing a letter to his parents, telling them that their beloved Jack will be going over the top at Lone Pine shortly:

The letter finished, Bean is quick to head to the trenches at Lone Pine, where Jack's 3rd Battalion are about to go into action. As he approaches, the great planned bombardment is underway, with both naval and land-based artillery pouring shells down on the Turkish positions. (Moving in towards her old familiar position opposite Gaba Tepe,
⁴⁹
Queen Elizabeth
is giving the Turks plenty of Old Harry with her roaring guns.) At the same time, the tunnels that the Diggers have forged in previous weeks even closer to the Turkish trenches are exploded in the hope that it will add to the dust and confusion that the Australians can charge into, as well as the resulting craters providing shelter for the lines of attack.

In the foremost Turkish trenches, carnage reigns … and rains.

The Turkish trench improvements are proving a diabolical failure. With direct hits, the heavy log roofs are caving in, crushing those below and blocking sections of soldiers off from each other. The few who survive are being ‘made crazy by shells detonated in the tunnels'.
⁵⁰
It is a disaster.

Even for the Australian soldiers who are 100 yards back from the barrage, it is hard to bear. By now, the shells are falling so thick and fast it is ‘one continuous roar',
⁵¹
as it builds towards its planned climax at 5.30 pm.

The Turks, in turn, are dropping shells from field guns and howitzers on the Australian trenches. Many of the Allied reinforcements are desperately shaken by it, but the veterans such as Archie Barwick know to hold their breath as they hear the approaching shell roaring through the air and steady themselves for the coming shock as it explodes. Personally, Archie finds it ‘a good plan to open your mouth & stand on your toes when you are expecting a high explosive to land near you, funny as it may seem, it takes a lot of the pressure off you'.
⁵²

In the trenches 50 yards back, Captain Gordon Carter, with the 1st Battalion, is moving into the reserve position, to follow up the initial assault. Carter is anxious, yes, but also experienced. He has no further doubts about himself, and knows that whatever happens he will be able to rise to it.

Right at the front, in the middle of the tumult, the 3rd Battalion's Private Cecil McAnulty, from Middle Park, Victoria, settles down in the few minutes he's got left before the action and dashes off a quick entry in his diary: