THE
42ND (EAST LANCASHIRE) DIVISION
1914-1918

First published in 1920

Printed in Great Britain by Richard Clay & Sons, Limited,
BRUNSWICK ST., STAMFORD ST., S.E. 1, AND BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.

MAJOR-GENERAL SIR WM. DOUGLAS, K.C.M.G., C.B., D.S.O.

By permission of Lyddell Sawyer.

The
42nd (East Lancashire) Division
1914-1918

BY
FREDERICK P. GIBBON
Author of “The Lawrences of the Punjab”

LONDON

PUBLISHED AT THE OFFICES OF “COUNTRY LIFE,” LTD.,
20 TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 2, AND BY
GEORGE NEWNES, LTD., 8-11 SOUTHAMPTON STREET,
STRAND, W.C. 2

NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS

To the
Officers, Warrant Officers,
Non-Commissioned Officers, and Men
of the
42nd (East Lancashire) Division

As their late Commander, I dedicate this history of their achievements, conspicuous even in days of great deeds, in the hope that the record of their unchanging spirit of courage, loyalty, and comradeship may give gratification to survivors and solace to relatives of the fallen.

11th November, 1920.

MAJOR-GENERAL A. SOLLY-FLOOD, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O.

By permission of Keturah Collings.

FOREWORD

The 42nd (East Lancashire) Division was only a comparatively short time under my command, but during that period officers, N.C.O.s and men showed themselves to be possessed of a magnificent fighting spirit.

The 42nd Division came to France at a time of crisis, and shared in the glory of breaking the most desperate and most dangerous German offensive made since the early days of the war. In my Despatches I have drawn attention to some of the outstanding actions of the Division. I am glad now to express to all ranks my personal gratitude for their splendid service.

Field Marshal.

G.H.Q. The Forces in Great Britain,
Horse Guards, London, S.W. 1.

14th July, 1919.

PREFACE

“Sir William Douglas asks me ‘to write a few lines’ to be embodied in the preface to a history of the 42nd Division.

“In the regions of time and space the Dardanelles enterprise forms only a trifling part of the record of this famous Division; but, in the sphere of the imagination, that part will be reckoned by Lancastrians yet unborn as the most precious heirloom bequeathed to them by the generation who fought the great war.

“Why? I will give the reasons in the words of a gallant young Australian killed shortly after he wrote me as follows from the front in France: ‘I often compare the two situations: out here and on those wild romantic shores of the Ægean; I compare them and I find that the Peninsula war stands quite alone and apart, an ineffaceable memory.’

“Bearing in mind that I am limited to a few lines I propose to think out nothing new, but to repeat now what was jotted down about a sample of the 42nd Division at the time (the 4th June, 1915), in my post of command, shared that day with two enormous tarantulas—

“On the right the French rushed the ‘Haricot’—so long a thorn in their flesh; next to them the Anson lads stormed another big Turkish redoubt in a slap-dash style reminding me of the best work of the old Regular Army; but the boldest and most brilliant exploit of the lot was the charge made by the Manchester Brigade in the centre who wrested two lines of trenches from the Turks; and then, carrying right on to the lower slopes of Achi Baba, had nothing between them and its summit but the clear, unentrenched hillside. They lay there—the line of our brave lads, plainly visible to a pair of good glasses—there they actually lay! We wanted, so it seemed, but a reserve to advance in their support and carry them right up to the top. We said—and yet could hardly believe our own words—‘We are through!’

“Alas, too previous that remark. Everything began to go wrong. First the French were shelled and bombed out of the ‘Haricot’; next the right of the Naval Division became uncovered and they had to give way, losing many times more men in the yielding than in the capture of their ground. Then came the turn of the Manchesters, left in the lurch, with their right flank hanging in the air. By all the laws of war they ought to have tumbled back anyhow, but by the laws of the Manchesters they hung on and declared they could do so for ever....

General,
“Lieutenant of the Tower of London.”

1st September, 1919.

The foregoing words were written by the Commander-in-Chief under whom the 42nd (East Lancashire) Division went into action for the first time of its existence. It is nearly a year now since Sir Ian Hamilton wrote them; this will give the reader some idea of the gigantic task those who have collected the material for, and the writer of, this book have had.

The work is an attempt to record the doings and follow the fortunes of the 42nd (East Lancashire) Division in the Great War, but nothing that can be written can adequately disclose the noble manner in which these lads preserved throughout that dogged courage and insistent resolution from which it was impossible, for those who were present, to withhold their admiration. My own four years’ experience of them has left me with the deepest feelings of pride and affection. From first to last they proved themselves to be gallant, loyal and self-sacrificing soldiers, warm-hearted, responsive and lovable men.

The thanks of the Committee responsible for the publication of this book are due to Captain E. R. Streat and Mr. George Bigwood, who collected much of the data, but more especially to Mr. F. P. Gibbon, who so kindly consented to write the History. The labour of collecting information from War Diaries and comparing the various accounts which so many old members of the Division have been kind enough to send him, has been very great, and we owe Mr. Gibbon a debt of deep gratitude.

7th August, 1920.

The Committee and the Author wish to record their warm appreciation of the assistance given in the compiling of this History by many Officers, Non-commissioned Officers and Men of the Division.

As the final proofs of the book were being passed, there came the sad news of the death of the first Divisional Commander, Major-General Sir William Douglas, K.C.M.G., C.B., D.S.O., at Cultz, near Aberdeen, on November 2nd, 1920. He had come to be regarded as the Father of the Division. It was under him that it earned the distinction of being the first Territorial Division to leave these shores, and under him it received its baptism of fire. Even when he had passed from command—both during the war and after hostilities had ceased—his interest in the welfare of all ranks remained unabated, and the affection he felt towards them was warmly reciprocated.

In expressing their deep sorrow and their sympathy with Lady Douglas, the Committee feel that they may speak for all ranks and all services of the Division.

CONTENTS

KEY MAP SHEWING APPROXIMATE POSITIONS OF BATTLE FRONTS OCCUPIED BY THE 42ND DIVISION (E. Lancs. T.)

MOVEMENTS FROM OUTBREAK OF WAR UNTIL ARMISTICE

ILLUSTRATIONS

THE 42nd (EAST LANCASHIRE) DIVISION

CHAPTER I
LANCASHIRE AND EGYPT
(August 1914—May 1915)

For a week or two there had been talk of war and of the likelihood of England being involved. The prospects and possibilities formed an interesting topic of conversation and speculation. We leant over the sheer side of the precipice and caught glimpses of the black chasm below, but few really doubted the soundness of the fence over which we peered.

Warnings of disaster had been frequent—but disaster had always been averted, and fair words had prevailed. For years we had been living on the verge of national ruin through strikes of railway-men, transport-workers, miners, or the spinners and weavers of Lancashire, but at the last moment conciliation always won; there was always room for compromise. Though civil war in Ireland seemed imminent, it was comforting to reflect how much common sense there was in the world. Besides, had it not been proved to every one’s satisfaction that under modern conditions war between great nations could not possibly last for more than a month or two, as in that short period victor and vanquished would alike be reduced to bankruptcy and impotence? Knowing this no Great Power would be likely to commit suicide. We were living in the twentieth century, and a great European war was an abstract conception, not something that could actually occur.

In the closing days of July 1914 this complacency was giving way to a very real dread. War might mean suicide even for the victor, might be “unthinkable,” but it was in sight—plain, stark, menacing. War such as other nations had known; not a war in which those who had a taste for soldiering might take part while the rest of us could read about it in the papers, feel proud of a success and depressed by a disaster, and wonder whether sixpence would be added to the income tax. The fantastic image that had thrilled us not altogether unpleasantly—as children experience ecstatic shudders when listening to tales of ogres and hobgoblins—was taking on an appearance of grim reality. Could it after all be a grisly spectre and not a mere bogey of turnip and white sheet? England began to regret that the warnings of her greatest soldier had passed unheeded.

A day or two later Germany flung down her challenge to Christianity and Civilization, stripped herself of the cloak of decency and stood revealed in stark brutishness; and on Tuesday, August 4, 1914, England took up the challenge and declared war. The decision was apparently not expected by the German Staff. To them it was rather a matter for exasperation than for apprehension. England had her hands full at home, and her vast possessions would prove a source of weakness. She had a small regular army, a force with high traditions, well trained and well equipped for service on the frontiers of India and other outposts of the Empire, containing a larger proportion of officers and men with experience of actual fighting than any other army of the Great Powers, yet so small in numbers and so scattered over the face of the globe, that one can almost sympathize with the German belief that the few thousand men who could be spared from the duty of policing India, Egypt, South Africa, and other possessions, might safely be regarded as negligible. She had, too, a small, indifferently trained and equipped, unprofessional, home-defence force, but even the British themselves did not take the Territorials seriously.

As to the rest of the potential fighting material of the British Isles, had it not been proved to the satisfaction of the Germans (who had made a special study of such matters with the typical Teutonic thoroughness which works so efficiently when applied to material facts, and fails so lamentably when the human factor enters) that the young manhood of the nation was mainly decadent, of poor physique, weak-chested, half-educated, lacking in patriotic purpose, with no thought of the morrow and no ideals? With the exception of the few hundred thousands who had received some training in physical drill and discipline in the Boys’ Brigade and its daughter-organizations which teach discipline, self-respect, and esprit de corps, or in the School Cadet Corps, all were utterly untrained, and they hated discipline. England had clearly shown that she was too selfish to submit to any form of compulsory service; too wrapped up in the love of comfort, ease and luxury to do more than bribe fools to die for her. It was a nation that had lost its soul. The military aid she could give to France could be contemptuously brushed aside. When France had been paralysed and the Channel ports secured, the British mercantile marine could be sunk or scared off the seas, and the British Empire brought to its knees.

Teutonic reasoning was wrong. The British character is too simple or too complex for the Hun. It may be that no other nation brings so much froth to the top as ours; that none extends such tolerance to cranks, nor gives so much rope to little cliques of shrieking egoists, nor shows such stolid indifference when the few, claiming to speak on behalf of the nation, so egregiously misrepresent her. On August 5, 1914, it was seen that practically every man, woman and child approved what the Government had done, and felt instinctively that their country would have been shamed had there been a day’s hesitation. England had found her soul, not lost it. A nation supposed to consist largely of pleasure seekers, of lovers of compromise, conciliation and tolerance, of comfort and luxury, had decided that all it held most dear would be as dust and ashes if it stood aside, a passive spectator of the agony of France and Belgium. Practically without a dissentient voice the nation prepared to sacrifice its all. Unhappily, the politicians, unaccustomed to realities, were not ready to make the most of this spirit of sacrifice. Unable to leave their grooves of finesse, intrigue, and opportunism, they knew not how to appeal simply to the noblest instincts; so they talked of “business as usual,” and attempted to cajole the nation into giving a part when the whole was ready to be offered.

Composition of the Division

This is the story of the part played in the most appalling of human tragedies by the East Lancashire Territorial Division, which, on leaving England, was composed of the following units—

• Cavalry: “A” Squadron, Duke of Lancaster’s Own Yeomanry—6 officers, 132 men.
• R.F.A.: The 1st (Blackburn) and the 3rd (Bolton) East Lancashire Brigades—55 officers, 1289 men.
• R.E.: 1st and 2nd Field Companies and Signal Company—19 officers, 568 men.
• Infantry: The 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th Battalions, the Lancashire Fusiliers—120 officers, 3962 men.
• The 4th and 5th Battalions, the East Lancashire Regiment—60 officers, 1990 men.
• The 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, and 10th Battalions, the Manchester Regiment—180 officers, 5966 men.
• A.S.C.: Three Companies and the Transport and Supply Column—16 officers, 276 men.
• R.A.M.C.: Three Field Ambulances—30 officers, 665 men.
• Total (including Divisional and Brigade Headquarters): 511 officers, 14,966 men.

The twelve battalions of infantry were brigaded as follows—

The Lancashire Fusiliers Brigade—the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Battalions, Lancashire Fusiliers.

The East Lancashire Brigade—the 4th and 5th Battalions, East Lancs Regiment, and the 9th and 10th Battalions, Manchester Regiment.

The Manchester Brigade—the 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th Battalions, Manchester Regiment.

The 5th L.F. was mainly composed of men from the Bury district, the 6th from Rochdale, the 7th and 8th from Salford, the 4th E. Lancs from Blackburn, the 5th from Burnley, the 5th Manchesters from Wigan, the 6th and 7th from Manchester and its suburbs (including a good proportion from the Cheshire suburbs), the 8th from Ardwick and East Manchester, the 9th from Ashton-under-Lyne, the 10th from Oldham.

The 1st R.F.A. Brigade (Blackburn) was composed of the following batteries: the 4th (Blackburn), the 5th (Church), the 6th (Burnley). The 3rd R.F.A. Brigade (Bolton) of the following: the 18th, 19th and 20th, all from Bolton and district.

Many of these units date back to 1859, when the Volunteer movement came into being. For forty-one years the Volunteers were an untried force, but in the year 1900 their offers of service in the South African War were accepted, the infantry battalions providing detachments which served with credit in that campaign. It was not until 1907 that serious thought was given to the equipment and organization of this fine body of patriotic men. Lord Haldane’s Territorial Scheme, based on the model of the Regular Army, did more than change the name from Volunteers to Territorials. Major-General Douglas Haig, Director of Military Training at the War Office, had charge of the scheme, and in bringing about this great change, he gave evidence of the foresight and grasp of essentials which in 1918 enabled him to lead the armed strength of the Empire to victory. The various batteries, battalions and corps, no longer scattered and independent units, were organized and trained as divisions, and the force was actually treated as a valuable and even essential element in the system of national defence, with the result that the Territorial Force soon reached a higher state of efficiency than the Volunteers had ever been permitted to approach. The East Lancashire Division had the reputation of being one of the smartest and most efficient of the whole force.

Mobilization

On August 3 units in camp for their annual peace training were recalled, and the order to mobilize the Division was received at 5.30 p.m. on the following day. Probably few members of the Territorial Force had realized that their “calling-up” notices had been ready from the day they joined; that month by month the addresses on the envelopes were checked and altered when necessary; that enough ball ammunition was stored at the various headquarters to enable every man to march out with the full complement of a fighting soldier, and that field dressings were available for issue. It must be remembered that never before had the Force been embodied, and that officers and men were civilians, few of whom had ever regarded mobilization as other than a remote possibility quite outside the range of practical politics. Yet the absence of confusion was remarkable, as all ranks threw themselves into their new parts with zest, making the best of unusual conditions and treating discomfort as a jest. The men were quartered in drill-halls or schools within easy reach of their Headquarters. Major-General Douglas, commanding the Division, with his General Staff Officer, Lieut.-Colonel A. W. Tufnell, was daily at the Divisional Headquarters in Manchester, or at the Headquarters of units, supervising the mobilization and arrangements. These have been described as “hectic days.” Improved though the organization was as compared with that of the Volunteers, it was anything but complete. Animals and vehicles for transport, harness, and an infinite variety of requisites had to be procured by free purchase or by commandeering in great haste. This was the weakest part of the scheme, and though much ingenuity was displayed by officers unaccustomed to this sort of thing, the waste was great. To such shifts were they reduced that street watering-carts were bought from Urban District Councils, and actually taken to Egypt. Among the weird varieties of carts thus acquired one of the best remembered is the “Black and Green” van which did duty as a Medical Officer’s vehicle, and was last seen bleached by the sun, but with the original lettering still traceable under the service grey, at Gabari Docks, Alexandria in February 1917. Nothing could better illustrate the inability of a large and patriotic section of the public to grasp the significance of events than the expectation freely expressed by vendors that their horses or carts would be returned to them in the course of a few weeks. In some cases the drivers of requisitioned animals joined the Territorial unit in order to remain with their horses.

On August 10 Lord Kitchener invited the Territorial Force to volunteer for foreign service. By August 12 the three Infantry Brigades had accepted the invitation, and within a few days ninety per cent. of the East Lancashires eagerly seized the opportunity. England saw with pride the keenness of the Territorials to meet the enemy, and knew that her sons were true to the breed. For more than fifty years she had treated her citizen-army as something that must not be taken too seriously, but that is England’s way. The response was magnificent, but it was expected, for the nation never doubted that they would answer the call. It was no small gift they offered. The most powerful army the world had ever seen was moving forward victoriously towards Paris, remorseless and apparently irresistible; and the Territorials offered their bodies for death and mutilation, and gave up parents, wives, children, homes, prospects, and all they held most dear. At a later period such sacrifice was demanded as the nation’s right, but in August 1914 a lead had to be given, an example set. Old volunteers were not content to look on while the younger generation fought and suffered. Daily a stream of old members, N.C.O.s and men, many in the autumn of their lives, besieged the Headquarters of their old corps and clamoured to be allowed to join up, lying cheerfully and brazenly in respect of their age. Many gained their object; more were almost broken-hearted by their rejection. The example set in those dark days was a stimulus and incentive to recruiting all over the country, and especially so in the great towns of Lancashire, where the “Pals” battalions were soon to be raised. It was the vindication of the Volunteer. “Defence, not Defiance,” had been their motto, but who among the prescient founders and bulwarks of the movement could ever have conceived the idea of the glorious rôle to be filled by the corps they had helped to raise—of the old Volunteer units from every county and city, at full strength, fighting and laying down their lives in Belgium, France, Egypt, Gallipoli, Palestine and Greece, and taking an inspiring part in the greatest of all crusades against the Turk?

Until August 20 officers and men remained within easy reach of their Headquarters. The Division was then moved into camps in the neighbourhoods of Bolton, Bury and Rochdale, and anxiously it awaited the summons. Another fortnight passed, and the rumour that Egypt was to be the destination began to gain ground. Rumour was, however, at this time a discredited jade, fit subject for scorn, for was she not responsible for the passage through England and Scotland of myriads of Russian soldiers, the ice and snow of Archangel still clinging to their boots and beards, who had been seen by thousands of British optimists at every railway junction in the land? But in the training camps of East Lancashire she was restored to public favour when a telegram, dated September 5, was received by the Divisional Commander from Lord Kitchener—

“Inform the Division from me that I hope that they will push on hard with their training in Egypt, as, before they are ready, there will be plenty of troops from India to garrison Egypt, and I hope they will be one of the first of the Territorial Forces to join our Army on the Continent. All will depend on their fitness for service against the enemy in the Field.—Kitchener.”

General Douglas spoke for every man in the Division when he replied: “All ranks much gratified to receive your message. They are animated with keen desire to fit themselves to join our forces on the Continent.”

On the 9th September the Division entrained for Southampton, about forty trains being required to convey men, horses, guns, and all the material of war; and on the 10th 15,500 Lancashire men, with about a thousand officers and men of the Hertfordshire and City of Westminster Yeomanry, embarked upon the great adventure, the first Territorial Division to volunteer for foreign service, and the first to leave England’s shores. It was a record of which the Lancashire men were justly proud, and which secured to them from the start the prestige and esprit de corps that are usually the outcome of long and honourable tradition. The details that were not going out with the Division became the nucleus of the Second Line, which sent drafts to the First Line until about the end of August 1915, when the Second Line East Lancashire (66th) Division was formed. After that date the drafts came from the Third Line units. The Duke of Lancaster’s Own Yeomanry had been accepted for voluntary service overseas, and it had been hoped that the whole regiment would accompany the Division, but finally only “A” Squadron, was ordered to embark.

Departure for Egypt

It was midnight when the troopships steamed out of the harbour, a dark night, all lights doused, no coastwise lights to guide, the blackness stabbed by scores of searchlights. The troops on board one of the ships began to sing and the whole convoy took up the strains. In the morning the first arrivals lay-to off the Eddystone, until, by late afternoon, a great fleet had assembled. At sundown the convoy sailed in three lines ahead, escorted by the battleship Ocean and the cruiser Minerva. It is said that this was the first actual convoy that had left England since the Napoleonic wars.

The rough weather of the first three days and much unavoidable discomfort aboard ship were borne with cheerfulness. The men had the impression that they were sadly overcrowded, but subsequent experience of life in “cubby-holes” and “dug-outs” modified their ideas of what lack of space really means. It was noticed that even the worst sufferers from seasickness never lost hope, as, although whole messes did not eat a meal during those three days, the daily indent for one bottle of beer per man was always drawn, to be saved for happier days. Rumours of the presence of enemy craft off Portugal gave rise to a pleasing sense of excitement and risk, but nothing happened. Early on September 17 the mighty rock of Gibraltar loomed suddenly out of the mist, and soon the mystical, sun-scorched, tawny hills of Northern Africa were sighted.

From Gibraltar the convoy was escorted by the Minerva only. As the weather improved it was found that, in spite of the crowded life aboard the troopships, quite a lot of theoretical training, and even a certain amount of physical, could be given, and there was little time for leisure in the Mediterranean. One brilliant day, after Malta had been passed, the sight of a great fleet sailing towards the West caused much excitement. Soon the news spread that this was the Lahore Division bound for Marseilles—war-hardened Sikhs, Gurkhas, Dogras, Punjabis, Pathans, and Rajputs, all eagerly looking forward to the day when they should cross steel with the famous soldiers of Germany, and confident of the result of such meeting. After exchange of greetings and of escorts, the Weymouth taking the Minerva’s place, flags were dipped and adieux waved. It was a wondrous sight, this great gathering of mighty ships, carrying tens of thousands of men and all their material of war from East to West and from West to East—an object lesson of the strength and resources of the Empire.

On the 25th September, a misty, languorous morning, the low, sandy coast of Egypt, fringed with surf, with here and there a clump of palm trees, was sighted. It was the Egypt of anticipation, curiously familiar even to men whose travels had rarely taken them beyond the confines of Lancashire. As the troopships slowly entered Alexandria Harbour they passed a battle-cruiser of the U.S. Navy. Though a strict neutrality had to be maintained in respect of action, there was no attempt to observe it in sentiment. To the delight of the Lancashire men the Americans manned ship; their band played “God save the King,” and generally “they did us proud.” The Division was keen to show its appreciation. The band of the 8th Manchesters, uncertain whether “Yankee Doodle,” “The Star-spangled Banner,” or “My Country, ’tis of Thee,” is considered the national anthem of the United States, and doubting their ability to render either of the first two airs pleasingly—the third tune being that of our own national anthem, and therefore open to misconstruction—struck up “Marching through Georgia.” All too late came the reflection that possibly the cruiser’s complement had been drawn from States which might not appreciate this air. However, every one seemed delighted by the display of cousinly emotion, and felt the better for the incident.

Arrival in Egypt

The disembarkation, which began the same day, was watched critically by regular officers who were waiting to embark for France, and who expressed their delight at the fine appearance and soldierly bearing of the Territorials. The first troops to land went on by train to Cairo, where the Yeomanry, the Lancashire Fusiliers Brigade, the Signal Company, and the Transport and Supply Column took over Abbasia Barracks. The East Lancashire Brigade were partly in the Citadel and Kasr-el-Nil Barracks in Cairo and partly in camp on the Heliopolis Racecourse. The Artillery also encamped on the racecourse, and the Engineers occupied the Kasr-el-Nil Barracks. The 5th, 6th and 8th Battalions of the Manchester Brigade and one company of the 7th Manchesters remained in Alexandria as garrison, the greater part being quartered in the Mustapha Barracks and Camp, while detachments were accommodated in the forts of Ras-el-Tin and Kom-el-Dik. Later, half of this company of the 7th was sent to Cyprus. The other three companies of the battalion had been sent to Khartoum via Port Sudan. Detachments of the R.A.M.C. accompanied the 7th Manchesters to Cyprus and Khartoum, but the Field Ambulances as units remained with their affiliated Brigades, the 1st at Alexandria, the 2nd at Heliopolis, and the 3rd at Abbasia. Detachments of the T. and S. Column took over A.S.C. duties from the Regulars at Alexandria, Khartoum and Cyprus. Abbasia was chosen for Divisional Headquarters.

“Khaki” helmets were quickly issued, but as the Embarkation Staff had put the tropical clothing in bulk in one ship, some time elapsed before the heavy serge could be discarded in favour of light drill, and it was astonishing how well the younger lads endured the excessive heat. They showed their grit from the start. The usual conditions of issue were experienced. When only the smaller sizes in headgear, boots, and clothing are available, how is it that so large a proportion of big-footed, big-headed, big-framed men turns up? The sun-helmets were approved. “Bill, will they let us tak’ these whoam wi’ us?” one man was heard to ask. Bill was not one of the many optimists who took for granted that they would be home for Christmas. “Tha’ll be lucky if tha tak’s thi yed whoam, never mind thi ⸺ ’emlet!” he replied.

Many of the horses had died on the voyage, for not only were the ships ill-fitted for horse transport, but orders had been received from the War Office, in spite of the Divisional Commander’s expostulations, not to exceed one man to every six horses. It was not possible for so small a proportion of men, most of whom were inexperienced, to cope with so many animals. On one boat alone, the Norseman (an Australian emigrant boat), there were more than 700 horses in charge of ninety-five men, and forty-six animals died during the voyage. The horses at first suffered greatly from climatic conditions, and especially from sand-colic. One apparently decided to lay a protest before the highest quarter, so, evading the picket, it made its way through a narrow gate into the garden of the C.R.A. and lay down to die almost on the General’s doorstep. The veterinary officers had a busy time, and a story concerning one of these was told with much enjoyment by General Maxwell himself. The “vet” was working at the highest pressure, when a gentleman in civil garb came along and, proceeding to ask him sundry questions, was curtly requested to seek the nether regions and mind his own business there. His horror on discovering later that his abuse had been levelled at the head of the Commander-in-Chief may be imagined.

Lord Kitchener had asked the Territorials to push on with their training, and General Douglas had assured him that all ranks were animated by a keen desire to fit themselves for whatever service might be required of them. Training had now begun in earnest, and before long a new stimulus, a fresh incentive, to efficiency appeared, and the prospect of the Division’s participation in actual warfare became less remote. During October the suspicion that Turkey might take the plunge and declare herself on the side of the enemy had become a probability. An attempt to incite Egypt to revolt, and, indeed, to persuade Mohammedans throughout the world that the day had dawned when a swift blow should destroy British supremacy for ever, might confidently be looked for; and an attack upon the Suez Canal would surely follow. To Mohammedans—with the exception of the comparatively feeble Shiah sect—the Sultan of Turkey was the Defender of the Faith, the representative of the Prophet. Who could say what religious fanaticism might not accomplish if he should proclaim Jehad against the infidels? The situation was grave; it might become critical, for the Khedive’s good faith was distrusted, and with reason.

The Regular Army of Occupation had left Egypt for France and Flanders, and Lancashire civilians—clerks, warehousemen, artisans, mill-hands, merchants, professional men—were responsible for law and order in the ancient land of the Pharaohs, for its defence and for the safe-guarding of the Suez Canal and the communications between West and East. They kept their charge inviolate, and during eight months, amid strange surroundings and under trying conditions of climate, the East Lancashire Division gained the confidence of the Administration and the respect and esteem of British colony and native population alike, by their efficiency, their grit, and their exemplary conduct. As soldiers under fire they had yet to be tested; as men they were proved and approved. Lancashire, and, indeed, the whole Territorial Force, have reason to be proud of the first civilian army that was placed in a position of grave responsibility.

On the 22nd of October intelligence was received of considerable Turkish activity in the Sinai Peninsula. We were still at peace with Turkey, but it was highly probable that a surprise attack upon the Suez Canal might precede a formal declaration of war. The Canal had been patrolled by a battalion of Highland Light Infantry until early in October, when its duties had been taken over by Indian troops. To strengthen the Canal defences the 1st and 2nd Field Companies, R.E., were sent to Ismailia on October 26 and 27, and a few days later a detachment of the Signal Company and the machine-gun sections of the 5th Battalion, East Lancashires, and 10th Battalion, Manchesters, also left Cairo for the Canal zone. The Sappers bridged the Canal in three places, manned the searchlights, supplied crews for steam-tugs—it was in consequence of an explosion on one of these boats that the first casualties of the Division occurred, Lieutenant Woods and six non-commissioned officers and men being killed—supervised the water supply, destroyed the native village of Kantara, and built fortifications. The Signal Company laid a cable between Kantara, Ismailia, and Suez, and the motor-cycle despatch riders of this company were the first ever employed on active service outside Europe. The work of the Engineers received much-valued commendation from the Commander-in-Chief.

A section each of the 2nd and 3rd Field Ambulances had been sent to Ismailia and Kantara respectively to be attached to the Canal defences, and these gave what assistance was needed to Indian troops as well as to the men of their own Division.[1] Another section of the 2nd Field Ambulance took charge of the Australian hospital at Mena, at which place, and also at Meadi and Zeitoun, the East Lancashire Transport and Supply Column had formed depots and undertaken transport duties for the Anzacs until their own A.S.C. units arrived.

On October 31 a force of nearly 9000 Yeomanry and Territorials marched through the streets of Cairo. Such a display of troops had never before been seen by the natives, and they were much impressed at a critical time. The Commander-in-Chief, Sir John Maxwell, expressed his appreciation of the splendid appearance of the men and of the salutary effect of the parade on the Egyptians. Native agitators and German and Turkish agents had for some time been active in Egypt and the Sudan, seeking to discredit the allies, and one of these did his best to convince spectators that what they took to be a powerful force was in reality but a stage army—the same unit marching in a circle. On November 1 Martial Law was proclaimed throughout Egypt and the Sudan. On the 5th of November war was declared against Turkey. The island of Cyprus was formally annexed on the 7th. Two companies of the 8th Manchesters had relieved the half-company of the 7th Manchesters as garrison on October 20, and detachments were sent to the various towns of the island to prevent disturbances between Greeks and Turks when the proclamation was made. On December 20 Prince Hussein was declared Sultan of Egypt under British Protectorate, and the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers provided a guard of honour on the occasion of the formal entry of the new Sultan into his capital. In Alexandria and Khartoum the Manchesters had ceremonial marches through the towns.

Work and Play

For some months the Division was occupied in strenuous training. The men suffered from the heat, the glare of the sun, the dust, sandstorms, flies, and other plagues of Egypt, the remarkable drop in temperature at night, the long, shadeless, desert marches; but they took it all cheerfully as part of the day’s work, and by the end of the year 1914 they were fairly well acclimatized and thoroughly fit. There was play as well as work; cricket, rugger, soccer, lacrosse, and hockey teams were soon hard at it; concert parties and pierrot troupes discovered unsuspected talent. There were also boxing contests, and the race meetings on Gezireh Island provided many dinners at the Continental and Shepheard’s for the winners. Full advantage was taken of the opportunities given at week-ends to visit the marvels of Egypt. The hospitality of the British colonies at Cairo, Alexandria, and elsewhere was warmly appreciated, and many friendships were formed between the residents and the men from Lancashire.

The good feeling and comradeship that prevailed throughout the Division may be illustrated by an incident, slight but typical. On the occasion of some special parade the 5th Manchesters had to cross the very sandy parade ground before reaching the asphalt road that led out of barracks. Noticing the dusty state of their boots the men of D Company of the 6th Manchesters darted into their quarters, which were close at hand, and, producing brushes and rags, they quickly polished the boots of the Wigan men. It was a trifling incident, but still a perfect expression of the spirit of good comradeship, and it had a wonderful and lasting effect. The two battalions were knit more closely together, and later, in Gallipoli, there was a sense of absolute security in either battalion in the knowledge that the other was in support.

The first Christmas on active service was celebrated in traditional style, plum-puddings and other Christmas fare being sent out by friends at home. The old hymns and carols at the Morning Service stirred the emotions deeply, and thoughts of home and memories of bygone Christmas gatherings became poignant. Dining huts and messes, rooms and verandahs, were garlanded with palm branches, flowers, lanterns, and chains of coloured paper. Nothing was omitted to make the day a memorable and happy one, and one to look back upon. Still, there were some decidedly novel features, chief of which, perhaps, was the after-dinner swim in the sea, indulged in by a number of Manchester men in Alexandria. On Boxing Day a great sports meeting was held at the Gezireh Sporting Club, Cairo, and many Lancashire men were successful competitors. They were, however, outshone by the men of the Ceylon Planters Rifle Corps, whose prowess was hailed with enthusiasm by their Territorial and Yeomanry rivals.

Casual mention only has been made of the 7th Manchesters. As the greater part of this battalion occupied a position of splendid isolation its very interesting experiences must be referred to separately and all too briefly. B Company had been dropped at Alexandria to take over the duties of a company of the Suffolk Regiment in that town and in Cyprus, and the other three companies remained on board the troopship. Port Sudan was reached on September 30 after a five days’ voyage, and the warm reception given them by the Suffolks and the British officials was very welcome after four weeks at sea. Half of C Company was left to garrison Port Sudan and, later, among other duties, to patrol the Red Sea in H.M.S. Enterprise, and to run an armoured train. The rest of the battalion entrained for Khartoum, a journey of 600 kilometres, where, on October 2, they were welcomed by the Sirdar, Sir F. R. Wingate, and his Staff.

Khartoum and the Sudan furnished a succession of novel experiences to the men from Burlington Street, but no surprise quite equalled that conveyed to them by the intimation that they were at once, without preliminary coaching, to supply a half-company to form the British Camel Corps. The two platoons of C Company were detailed for this duty. The departing O.C. Camel Corps had little time in which to impart information to his successor, and there were many documents to sign, some of these being in Arabic. He seemed grieved that Manchester men should be ignorant of Arabic and of the customs, habits, and requirements of camels, but volunteered as much information as could be crammed into five minutes. Captain C. Norbury and his subalterns gazed upon their new pets, seventy in number, without affection, and sat down the better to enjoy the humour of their predicament before sampling its difficulties. In despair and not in hope, expecting rather to provoke merriment than to elicit information, the new O.C. Camels asked his half-company if any man among them had had experience of camels. Forth stepped the former camel-keeper of Bostock’s menagerie. The Hour had brought forth the Man. The 7th Manchesters now felt that they were equal to any emergency, and soon they provided piano-tuners for the Sirdar’s palace, trained gardeners for the barracks gardens, and skilled artisans for every variety of job for which an expert was demanded.

The Camel Corps was soon proficient enough to be sent by the Sirdar on a two-weeks’ trek through villages where white men had rarely been seen, and their presence gave the lie to reports circulated by Turco-German emissaries that all white troops had been recalled from Egypt and the Sudan to defend their home country from the enemy at its gates. Incidentally they had the opportunity of seeing the wonderful results of Manchester enterprise in the great cotton-growing areas through which they passed. Not only had Khartoum been transformed from a collection of mud huts into a town of imposing buildings, shops, and public works, but the savage Sudan of a few years ago was in process of transformation into a land of peace and prosperity.

Training proceeded under the same trying conditions of climate experienced by their comrades in Egypt; the same games and sports were enjoyed with similar zest; and fitness and efficiency prevailed. The conduct of the men received and merited high praise from the Sirdar—who paid the battalion the distinction of becoming its honorary Colonel—and from all with whom they came in contact. Relations with the natives were excellent, and a firm friendship was formed with the Egyptian regiment in Khartoum. The first of all active service periodicals, The Manchester Sentry, was published in Khartoum, the Sirdar and Lady Wingate contributing. The three companies rejoined their comrades of the Manchester Brigade in Cairo on April 23, 1915.

Defence of the Suez Canal

On January 19, 1915, the Manchester Brigade was transferred from Alexandria and Cyprus to Cairo, and the 5th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers were sent to Alexandria. Reports of renewed activity on the part of the Turks pointed to an attempt to seize the Suez Canal and invade Egypt. On January 20 the 1st and 3rd Brigades, R.F.A., were despatched to the Canal zone, to be followed a few days later by the 1st Field Company, R.E., which had recently been brought back to Cairo in order to take part in divisional training. The artillery was posted on the west bank of the Canal at El Kubri, Serapeum West, Ferry Post (Ismailia), El Ferdan, and Kantara, most of the guns being concealed among the pines that grow within a hundred yards of the bank. The Field Companies assisted the garrisons of Indian troops in the strong points of the east bank to improve their defences.

The expectations of hostile attack were realized in the early hours of February 3, when a force of 12,000 Turks and Germans attacked, and made an attempt to cross the Canal midway between the east bank strong points of Serapeum and Toussoum. Heavy rifle and machine-gun fire developed between those places about 3 a.m. The guns of the Egyptian Mountain Battery had, by happy chance or remarkable intuition, been mounted on the west bank within 400 yards of the main crossing-place selected by the Turks. The chanty of the enemy, as, unaware of the battery’s proximity, he attempted to launch the heavy steel pontoons, was much appreciated by the gunners, who opened fire in the dark at point-blank range. When daylight came the Battery Commander was able to congratulate himself on some accurate “spotting,” several holed pontoons and many dead Turks being found at the water’s edge. One of these pontoons is now in possession of the Manchester Corporation.

Two sections of the 1st Field Company had been detailed to hold the west bank at this point, and in the course of the fighting on February 3 they lost one man killed and two wounded. The 19th Battery, under Major B. P. Dobson (which had already been in action on the previous day against the Turkish Camel Corps), played a conspicuous part in the enemy’s defeat. They had hauled one 15-pounder through a wood to the bank of the Canal and had fired point blank into the Turks as they vainly attempted to launch their iron boats. Another gun was man-hauled to a hill behind the wood, and this found good targets as the enemy approached the Canal. Captain P. K. Clapham did some good spotting for the battery from a precarious and exposed position in a tall fir tree. The 18th Battery, at Ismailia, fired on the enemy positions with good effect from 2000 to 3000 yards, and every battery of the two brigades shared in the victory. The 20th Battery, at El Ferdan, had the distinction of being the first Battery of the Division—and probably the first of any Territorial unit—to open fire upon an enemy. The total casualties of the East Lancashire Artillery were five men wounded, four of these belonging to the 19th Battery. The men of the Signal Company, who had done good work in this sector, also received their baptism of fire.

The attempt to invade Egypt had failed. The Punjabis (upon whom fell the brunt of the fighting), the Rajputs and Gurkhas on the east bank were fully prepared both to meet the attack and to assume the offensive, inflicting a serious defeat and making important captures. The Divisional Yeomanry arrived at Ismailia on the 4th of February in time to co-operate with Indians, Anzacs, and the 5th Battery in following up the enemy’s retirement. More than 1600 prisoners were taken. On the 10th General Douglas visited the posts on the Canal, held by units of his Division, to congratulate his men on their good work. The 2nd Field Company reached Ismailia on the 6th, and for the greater part of the month the sappers were kept busy strengthening the Canal defences, making entanglements, trenches and bomb-proof shelters, and laying mines. Another attack upon the Canal was made on the 22nd of March, when the 5th Battery was again in action, and the next day the Battery accompanied a column which attacked the Turks in the Sinai Desert about nine miles N.E. of El Kubri. While the East Lancashire Batteries remained in the Canal zone Brigadier-General A. D’A. King, Divisional C.R.A., assumed command of the artillery of the Canal defences.

Training and Fitness

From the beginning of the year 1915 the training had become more and more strenuous. There were long marches in the desert—occasionally very long ones—in full marching order, through native villages in which the many odours were only excelled in numbers, variety, and offensiveness by the yelping curs that were stirred into noisy activity by the tramp of the battalions. The Khamsin wind was sickly in its heat, the atmosphere heavy and laden with sand, the glare of the sun pitiless, the only shade available while resting being the very inadequate shelter provided by a blanket stretched on rifles. But the men were physically fit—they had to be, for only fit men were needed. The amateurs had become soldiers. The days were past when the colour-sergeant’s whispered order to the right-flank man of a company in extended order for “two scouts” would reach the left-flank man in the form of “the colour-bloke wants a couple of stouts.” In spite, however, of good physical condition and a fine spirit, it could not truthfully be stated that the Suez road, with its five-mile towers, and the Virgin’s Breast had endeared themselves to Lancastrians. Familiarity had bred not contempt but a whole-hearted loathing for that accursed highway and that distant mound. The Third Tower was the usual goal, the advance ceasing just beyond it. How the troops hated the sight of this detestable pile which, in the dust and glare, seemed to recede mockingly as they tramped towards it! On the homeward march one very hot day, while the men were cursing the dust and sand, a party of natives passed, all being mounted on asses. A bulky and perspiring Salford Fusilier regarded them enviously, and growled: “They say those blighters ain’t civilized. But they don’t ⸺ well walk!” There were night operations and marches, during one of which, after a battalion had been wandering for hours in pitch darkness along the numerous roads in and around Helouan, the company humorist suggested to his Captain that they had lost their way. On being asked why, he replied, “Well, we’ve just passed a road that we haven’t been down.”

Brigade “shows” and Divisional “stunts,” in conjunction with Australian and New Zealand troops and English Yeomanry, now began to play an important part in the training. The sounding of the Cease Fire was the signal for importunate orange-sellers to spring up on all sides, holding out the refreshing fruit with shrill cries of “Two for half” (piastre). Under the alleged cover of imaginary battle-ships “landing-schemes” were rehearsed. These, like so many less provocative events, gave rise to highly coloured rumours which, in spite of the hard fate of earlier rumours, were entertained with much satisfaction, for Hope is a cheery soul, always quick to reply that he is not downhearted. The men looked forward eagerly to an exodus from the captivity of Egypt and longed for the promised land, where an opportunity to test their soldierly qualities might be found. Rehearsals, training, and all duties were carried out with alacrity and unfailing cheerfulness, but they were becoming monotonous; and the feeling undoubtedly existed that the Division had—quite unintentionally—been penalized through being the first Territorial Division to be complete for service. Had they been a little less efficient another Territorial Division might have been chosen for useful but inglorious garrison duty in Egypt, and the East Lancashires might by now have been in France or Flanders. It seemed to be a case of the first being last.

On Palm Sunday, March 28, a brilliant day, the Division was reviewed in Cairo by General Sir Ian Hamilton, who had lately arrived to command the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, and Major-General Douglas had good reason for his pride in the troops under his command. The critical eye of the Commander-in-Chief seemed to take stock of every individual that passed before him, and he was obviously impressed by their soldierly bearing and fitness.[2] Here was a Division whose outward appearance equalled that of Regulars, and, as a judge of men, he was convinced that their martial spirit would not belie the outward appearance. He never had reason to alter his opinion or regret the judgment then passed. From that day the East Lancashires were “in the ring,” and were destined to play a part in one of the war’s greatest tragedies. In a Special Order of the Day the Divisional Commander published the following letter—

“General Sir Ian Hamilton, having been accorded the privilege of reviewing the East Lancashire Division, wishes to congratulate the General Officer Commanding in Egypt, as well as Major-General Douglas, on the turn-out and soldierly bearing of that force.

“He was able to observe to-day that the East Lancashire Division has made full use of the advantages which continuous fine weather and the absence of billeting have given them over their comrades now bearing arms, whether at home or on the continent of Europe.

“Ever since the siege of Ladysmith, General Sir Ian Hamilton has interested himself specially in the military output of Manchester, and it is a real pleasure to him now to be able to bear witness to the fact that this great city is being so finely represented in the East.”

Early in April there were signs that a fresh attack on the Canal was contemplated by the Turks, and orders were received that an Infantry Brigade of the Division must be ready to occupy a position covering Kantara at short notice. Major-General Douglas selected the East Lancashire Brigade for this important task. The move was not begun, however, until the 16th, when two battalions left for Kantara and Port Said, the others following on the 19th and 20th.

Embarkation for Gallipoli

On April 28 verbal orders were received by the Divisional Commander that the Division must be prepared to move to the Dardanelles at short notice. The news soon spread; it was no rumour this time, but the real thing, and on April 30 excitement was at fever heat. At last the Territorials were to be given the opportunity to which all ranks had looked forward so eagerly, and towards which recent training had been directed. Little time was given for preparation, but no more was needed, as the Division was ready to take the field. On May 1, 1915, the embarkation of the East Lancashire Division began, the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, the Brigade Signal Section and No. 2 Company, A.S.C. leaving Alexandria for the Dardanelles on the 2nd May. The Manchester Brigade, the Brigade Section Signal Company, No. 4 Company, A.S.C., and the 1st Artillery Brigade sailed on the night of the 3rd. Some of the transports had just brought many hundreds of wounded men from Gallipoli. The Derflinger, a captured German vessel, had landed 550 casualties a few hours before she was boarded by the 5th and 6th Manchesters, and the gory clothing and stretchers which littered her decks were sufficient evidence of war’s brutality to sober the most irresponsible and banish all idea of a “picnic” expedition. The embarkation of the remainder of the Division was delayed by the lack of trains, but on the 4th all units, with the exception of the Yeomanry, left their stations for the ports of embarkation, and on the 6th of May were at sea. The men carried with them grateful memories of the ladies of Alexandria, from whom much kindness had already been received, and who now opened a buffet on the quay, and from dawn until dusk supplied tea, coffee, and other refreshments to troops awaiting their turn to embark.

While the troops were embarking Major-General Douglas received the following telegram from Sir John Maxwell—

“When you have an opportunity will you let the East Lancashire Division know that during the time they have been under my command I have been filled with admiration of their conduct, keenness, capacity for hard work, cheerfulness and soldier-like spirit. Now they are going on hard active service I am sure they will fight gallantly and uphold the great traditions of Lancashire and the Empire, and prove, if proof be needed, that the trained Territorial soldier is second to none. Good luck and God speed to you all.”

On May 1 the Embarkation State of the Division was as follows—

Officers commanding units—

With one or two exceptions these officers were in command when the units left England. Lieut.-Colonel Heywood (6th Manchesters) had been pronounced unfit for active service by reason of defective eyesight, and Lieut.-Colonel Needham (A.S.C.) was left at Alexandria sick.

1/2nd GURKHA RIFLES CROSSING 1ST FIELD COMPANY’S BRIDGE OVER SUEZ CANAL AT FERRY POST.

TURKISH PONTOONS CAPTURED AT TOUSSOUM, SUEZ CANAL.

6th BN. MANCHESTER REGT. EMBARKING AT ALEXANDRIA FOR GALLIPOLI.

UNLOADING HORSES AT C. HELLES.

SHIPPING OFF C. HELLES, MAY 1915.

BIVOUACS IN THE “REST AREA,” C. HELLES.

CHAPTER II
GALLIPOLI
(May 1915)

Gallipoli! Who in Lancashire, in England, before the year 1915, knew where or what it was, or had even heard the name? Bitter was the dispelling of ignorance; hard indeed the road that led to knowledge! A name of death, of affliction, of suffering almost too heavy to be borne; but also a name of heroism and endurance and of high endeavour. A name of Failure, but no less of Glory.

More than 14,000 Lancashire Territorials—bronzed, clear-eyed, trained men now—put forth from Egypt in the first days of May 1915, upon the second stage of the Great Adventure, bound for the Ægean Sea, the very source and well-spring of adventure, whose shores and islands were the playgrounds of heroes. As the transports steamed northward into the Ægean, some, perhaps, had visions of a parade across the peninsula, an astonished enemy falling back before them in disorder, and a triumphant procession into Constantinople. The glamour of that romantic city laid hold of the imagination of others, who pictured a victorious entry after some weeks or months of hard fighting, and the loss of good comrades. The majority, however, had a better, if still rather vague, idea of the difficulties of the task that confronted them, for most had heard by now of the enemy’s preparedness and of the reception that had been given to the 29th Division, the Anzacs, and the French, and of the awful losses sustained before a precarious footing had been gained.

So, while the Division is at sea, let us review very briefly the position on the peninsula of Gallipoli. After a naval bombardment on February 15, which only served as a threat and warning to the enemy, a naval attempt on March 18 to force the Straits failed disastrously, though it certainly attained one of its objects—that of relieving the pressure upon the Russians. But as the large Turkish forces withdrawn from the Caucasus were employed upon the defence of Gallipoli and the Straits, the result was that the hitherto undefended peninsula was converted into an impregnable position against the now expected attack. Artillery was mounted to cover every approach, and barbed wire entanglements were concealed in the shallows and placed on shore—wire compared with which the British article was as thread.

On April 25 General Sir Ian Hamilton’s army landed, the 29th Division at various beaches of the southern extremity of the peninsula, around Cape Tekke, Cape Helles, and the village of Sedd-el-Bahr, and the Anzacs on the western shore a dozen miles to the north, just beyond the headland of Gaba Tepe. The loss incurred had been appalling. The marvel was that the feat had been accomplished. History records no grander achievement, no more inspiring example of heroism. Surely men who could achieve the impossible as these had done could go anywhere or do anything! They could indeed do what men can do, but there were no reserves to fill the huge gaps, and the important gains made so gallantly and at so terrible a cost had to be abandoned by the fragments of what had once been battalions and companies. The story of Gallipoli might have been very different had General Hamilton been granted the support of the East Lancashire Division a week earlier. On April 30 the 86th Brigade (the four Fusilier battalions) of the 29th Division could only muster 36 officers and 1830 men out of a normal strength of 104 officers and 4000 men, the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers being reduced to 11 officers and 399 men.

The finest troops of Turkey made desperate efforts, with a courage and enthusiasm that won the admiration of the British, to complete the destruction of the invading force or to drive it into the sea. With equal determination British, Anzacs, and French held on to their dearly-won foothold, and made desperate counter-attacks to improve their position. On May 1 the Indian Brigade under Brig.-General Cox arrived from Egypt.

On May 5-6 the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade, with No. 2 Section Signal Company and the 2nd Transport and Supply Company, disembarked at “W” and “V” Beaches, across the blood-drenched hulk of the River Clyde, and were temporarily attached to the 29th Division. Vehicles and animals were slung into the lighters, and though it was their first experience the men did their job well. The A.S.C. mules had been supplied from the 49th Reserve Park a few hours before embarking at Alexandria, and were therefore unknown to their drivers, who deserve credit for bringing them safely ashore. As the cable-wagons could not be landed each man of the Signal Section took as much equipment as he could carry.

Had stimulus been needed to inspire the men from Bury, Rochdale and Salford, here was their inspiration. They had set foot ashore close to the spot made world-famous as “Lancashire Landing” a few days earlier by the 1st Battalion of their own Regiment, with whom they were now privileged to act. “So strong,” wrote Sir Ian Hamilton, in his first despatch on the Gallipoli landing, “were the defences of ‘W’ Beach that the Turks may well have considered them impregnable; and it is my firm conviction that no finer feat of arms has ever been achieved by the British soldier—or any other soldier—than the storming of these trenches from open boats, by the 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.” Within a few hours of landing the Territorial Brigade was in action, and at the close of two days’ severe fighting it had a casualty list of 673. The first battalion to disembark, the 6th Lancashire Fusiliers, took over trenches from the K.O.S.B. at dusk, on the extreme left of the British line, between Gully Ravine and the Ægean Sea. The remainder of the Brigade marched during the night, reaching a point above Gully Beach at daybreak on May 6.

ACHI BABA FROM HIGH GROUND ABOVE “LANCASHIRE LANDING.”

MORTO BAY AND ENTRANCE TO THE NARROWS.

The First Battle—May 6, 1915

A general advance of the whole line, stretching right across the peninsula, from a point about three miles north of Tekke Burnu on the left to a point about one mile north of De Tott’s Battery on the right, was ordered for 10 a.m. that morning. The 6th L.F. gained more than 400 yards before being held up by heavy fire from rifles and machine guns. This was the greatest advance made by any unit that day, and the ground won was held. The 7th were in support of the 6th. One company of the 8th reinforced the extreme left; another company supported the left of the 88th Brigade on the right of the Gully Ravine. This ravine, about fifty yards wide, with steep cliffs forty to sixty feet high, formed a dangerous gap in the line, and during the night its bed was occupied by another company of the 8th. Under cover of night the trenches, having been cleared of dead and dying, were deepened and improved.

The attempt to continue the advance next morning was not successful. The 5th L.F. deployed and passed through the 6th in the front line, the rest of the Brigade being in support, to press home the attack. The Brigade’s objective was a point about a mile to the north of the furthest point reached by British troops throughout the campaign. Some parties of the 5th gained a little ground, but they were enfiladed, the intensity of the fire drove them back, and the line remained unaltered. A renewal of the attack in the afternoon, when the Brigade was reinforced by two battalions of the 87th Brigade, also failed. At sundown the Brigade was relieved, and the Lancashire Fusiliers rested on the cliffs until the following evening, when they were moved to a less exposed bivouac further inland, among the trees near Morto Bay. The Territorials had been severely tested and had stood it well. They had been thrust at once into the fighting line because they were badly needed. When they landed the position of the depleted 29th Division was precarious. The men were exhausted, for there is a limit to human endurance, and that limit had almost been reached. It was vital, if they were not to be driven into the sea by force of numbers, that an advance should be made and less exposed positions secured; and the arrival of the Territorial Brigade had enabled the worn-out Regulars to attain this object. No. 2 Section Signal Company had done good work. For two days their tasks had been done in the open, under continuous fire, all lines having been laid on the surface by hand.

By some blunder or misunderstanding on the part of the Naval Authorities most of the transports conveying the remainder of the Division were sent northwards up the coast to Gaba Tepe, instead of to Cape Helles. The first to arrive, the Derflinger with the 5th and 6th Manchesters on board, was chased by a destroyer and brought back with all speed to Helles, where these two battalions disembarked on the evening of May 6 at “W” and “V” beaches. The 7th and 8th Manchesters landed on the same beaches on the following day under shell fire, which caused several casualties. The Manchester Brigade assembled on the cliffs between the beaches before moving inland to the rendezvous known as Shrapnel Valley. The other transports, including the Crispin with Headquarters on board, arrived off Gaba Tepe on May 8, and anchored there for the night. In the morning Major-General Douglas, failing to obtain a reply to his ship’s signals, visited the Senior Naval Transport Officer on board H.M.S. Queen, and the transports were soon steaming southwards, Headquarters disembarking at “W” beach in the afternoon of May 9.

The disembarkation of the Division was practically completed on the 11th, though two companies of the 10th Manchesters and one of the 5th East Lancashires, when about to follow their comrades ashore, were carried off by the naval authorities for some unexplained reason, and were not landed until the 14th. The medical and surgical equipment of the 3rd Field Ambulance was also lost in the same way, and was not recovered for a fortnight. The 5th Battery, R.F.A., and two guns of the 6th Battery had been landed, when orders were received that, as the area occupied by the British was so small, sufficient space would not be available for the batteries, so the Artillery must return to Egypt. It was, however, decided to allow the guns which had already been brought ashore to remain. Lieut.-Colonel Birtwistle, commanding the 1st Brigade, R.F.A., had gone ashore with the 5th Battery, and he was placed in charge of a sub-group of Australian and New Zealand batteries. The mortification of the other batteries was intense, but after four more months in Egypt they again sighted Cape Helles, and this time were allowed to land. For the same reason—congestion on the occupied territory—the 1st, 3rd and 4th Companies, A.S.C., with the exception of the Supply personnel, were ordered back to Egypt.

The vagaries of the naval transport authorities which had sent some of the transports on a tour along the coast were not regarded as an unmitigated evil by those of the wanderers upon whom responsibility weighed less heavily, for they were given the opportunity to survey the scene of operations from various angles, from Tekke Burnu to Fisherman’s Hut beyond the headland of Gaba Tepe, where lay the Anzacs, and from Cape Helles to Morto Bay and the entrance to the Straits. They witnessed the bombardment of the enemy’s positions from sea and land; and some, with good glasses, were able to follow the movements of the Lancashire Fusiliers during the heavy fighting of the 6th and 7th of May, and could actually see them move forward to attack, their bayonets flashing in the sun, and concentrate on certain points when the advance was held up. On the right the French Colonial troops were seen, carrying all before them with their usual dash, only, alas! to be driven back a few hours later. They passed close to the mighty Queen Elizabeth, that embodiment of concentrated sea-power which—as many anticipated—had proved so comparatively ineffective against an enemy on land, though the big naval shells which burst in and around Krithia Village threw up clouds of dust and smoke and debris seventy feet in height. There also were the French men-of-war and the “Packet of Woodbines,” as the five-funnel Russian cruiser Askold was termed.

GALLIPOLI PENINSULA

Lc.-Corp. J. Mort, R.E. (T.)

The Landing at Helles

That the landing on open beaches, exposed to chance firing from the Turkish front, and presenting a visible target to batteries at Kum Kale on the Asiatic shore, was accomplished quickly and almost without loss was due to the fine spirit shown by all ranks. The disembarkation was by no means a simple affair. It contrasted strangely with the embarkation at Alexandria, where the troop-trains ran alongside the steamers, and the docks were equipped with all loading facilities. At Cape Helles the transports anchored at varying distances from the shore, and the troops were transferred to steam-tugs and trawlers, each carrying about 500 men to the makeshift piers of trestles or old barges, or to the jetty formed by the stranded River Clyde on “V” Beach. Horses and mules were slung overboard and lowered into lighters. The ground swell increased the difficulties and dangers.

As the men scrambled into the tugs many began to realize that they were now confronting the biggest thing that had yet entered into their lives. They joked and chaffed one another, and smoked their pipes, as if crossing to the Isle of Man, while the thunder of the heavy guns echoed against the cliffs. They were not yet “heroes,” and few of them had yet been tested by fire; and if, to steady their nerves and conceal from their comrades—and from themselves—the anxieties and doubts that would not be denied, they made fun of the ordeal that lay before them, all honour to them!

Each boatload was welcomed by a Landing Officer, whose one idea was, naturally enough, to get men and baggage clear of his “pier” and beach in order to make room for the next batch and prevent the short stretch of foreshore from becoming hopelessly blocked. The strip of firm sand at the water’s edge soon changed to loose sand and shingle, which sloped gradually to the foot of the cliffs, about 150 to 200 yards from highwater mark. The cliffs rose abruptly to the height of fifty to sixty feet, except in the centre of the bays, where higher ground was reached by rough winding tracks. From the top of the cliffs a view of Achi Baba was obtained—a sight interesting enough, and even exciting, at first, but the interest soon palled and gave place to detestation. The top was no place to linger upon, for its occupants were plainly visible to the Turk in front, as well as to the Turk in Asia. Low scrub and grass covered it; beyond, the ground dipped slightly before it began to rise nearly 600 feet to the summit of Achi Baba, about six miles to the north-east. It was mainly uncultivated ground, though a certain amount of young grain afforded good grazing for the horses while it lasted, and there were one or two small vineyards more than a mile inland, the young grapes from these being made into delectable puddings later by enterprising A.S.C. officers. The only trees near the Helles beaches were small groups of wind-swept firs and a few limes, but further inland, near the nullahs, and away on the right, in the French area around Morto Bay, more foliage could be seen. There were many wild flowers, including a lovely pink cistus, wild thyme and very fine wild roses; and here and there the vivid red of a patch of poppies relieved the general impression of green.

For nearly two miles inland this ground formed a narrow, congested bivouac for troops newly landed or in reserve, and a rest camp for those which had suffered heavily. Corps Headquarters, ordnance, supplies, hospital tents, transport vehicles, and long lines of picketed horses and mules, covered large expanses. At first men lay in twos and threes in small natural hollows, in coffin-shaped holes hastily dug to the depth of two or three feet, or in wide shallow trenches which provided some little cover for men lying down. Later, oilsheets were used to cover these trenches as a protection from the sun by day and the cold at night. The difference in temperature was keenly felt by men who had passed the preceding seven months in Egypt. Indeed, on the first night ashore officers and men, unable to sleep because of the cold, stamped backwards and forwards until tired, then huddled together until forced to take violent exercise again. The dawn was exquisite as the first rays of the sun touched the snow-tipped mountains to the east, but few were in the mood to appreciate it. What was then asked of the sun was warmth, not beauty.

Very little protection from shell fire was to be found on the peninsula owing to the nature of the ground, to the position of the allied armies between the guns of Achi Baba and the batteries of the Asiatic shore, and to the entire absence of material for revetting trenches and constructing shelters and dug-outs. Wood and other material could only be brought from Egypt or Mudros in small quantities—small as compared with the vast amount required—and even these seldom found their way beyond the beaches, and sandbags during the first months were as precious almost as drinking-water. Moreover, there was no time for work on defences, and no men were available. The cliffs themselves provided shelter from shell fire from the north, but none from “Asiatic Annie,” the heavy gun (or rather guns) which shelled “W” and “V” Beaches continuously from various points along Erenkoi Bay east of Kum Kale, inflicting many casualties and much damage.

Into this too-crowded, unprotected area the Turk consistently pitched his high-explosive shells, and the ear-splitting crash and “coal-box” effect greeted the Territorials on arrival and gave them their first impression of real warfare. It was amazing that the casualty list was not far heavier. Had the enemy at this period been in possession of more and better ammunition the position in Gallipoli would have been untenable. Owing to this shortage in these early days solitary wagons and pack-animals could be moved about freely by day behind the lines, within view and range (with open sights) of the guns on the slopes of Achi Baba; for the Turk rarely wasted a shell on the chance of destroying one man or horse, and, by extending to a distance of 400 yards, even a battalion transport could often go forward and backward unmolested by day. The incessant rifle fire at night made the area immediately behind the front lines more dangerous then than by day.

The Nullahs

Farther away to the north the British front was intersected by three streams, or, except during and immediately after rain, three more or less dry beds of streams, running north-east to south-west. The largest of these was Gully Ravine (Saghir Dere) close to and parallel with the western coast, emptying into Gully Beach about two miles north of Lancashire Landing. The Krithia Nullah (Kirte Dere) began near Krithia Village, and intersected the centre of the British area for a distance of three miles, then, a mile north of “V” Beach, turned to the south-east and emptied into Morto Bay. The third, Achi Baba Nullah (Maltepe Dere) ran parallel to, and from 500 to 1000 yards to the east of the Krithia Nullah, and it also debouched into Morto Bay. No nullah emptied into “W” or “V” Beach, and none intersected the high ground adjacent to those beaches. As the one road in the occupied territory, the Krithia Road, was registered, and in full view of the Turks, these gullies formed the only concealed approaches from the bivouacs and rest camps to the front line. The congestion of these “main streets” made traffic slow and laborious. Normally the approach would be along the bed of a tortuous stream, showing here and there a trickle of water, and at one spot in the Krithia Nullah even a small bathing-pool; but the sight of driftwood and debris deposited six feet and more above the bed-level gave warning to the observant. Disastrous experience soon showed that a few hours’ heavy rain could convert these nullahs into raging and devastating torrents; and when the spate subsided channels of deep mud would be left, with here and there a quagmire into which mules and horses sank.

That one may have too much of a good thing while suffering from a lack of it may be a paradox, but there were times when it was true enough in Gallipoli. Water there was below the surface, to hinder the construction of deep trenches, in which men might stand or sit or walk without offering their heads and bodies as targets to the sniper; there was at times water in exuberant excess to wash away stores, equipment, and even trenches and dug-outs; but clean water was more precious than wine. There were one or two derelict farms which had wells, but the demand was so great that the supply soon gave out. Unfortunately no steps had been taken to protect wells from pollution when the area was first occupied, but afterwards a guard was placed over them, and the water chlorinated before issue, through fear of contamination. A small supply for the brewing of tea was obtained by digging a hole in the trench, below the parados, and placing therein an old biscuit tin with perforated bottom. In this way a little water could be collected—and every pint was treasure. As there were many of our own and the enemy dead lying out in the open, and also latrines in the immediate neighbourhood, it is a great tribute to the value of chlorination and typhoid inoculation that men drank this water with impunity. The normal trickle through the Krithia Nullah provided water for washing but not for drinking, as the stream flowed through the Turkish lines into ours, and was very dirty. A few springs of good water were found in the banks of the nullah, and one of these never failed to supply about 100 gallons an hour. Later, new wells were dug, a gang of well-sinkers, chosen from men of the mining districts, doing useful work. Some of the best of these wells were sunk on the side of a precipitous cliff at Shrapnel Point, near Gurkha Bluff, within a stone’s throw of, but fifty feet above, the sea.

Before the Division landed there had been little attempt at sanitation; there were not nearly enough men for fighting purposes, and no one had time to worry about such things until too late. The flies had then arrived.

The southern point of the peninsula had been very sparsely inhabited. There were two villages, Sedd-el-Bahr, between “V” Beach and Morto Bay, and Krithia, below the slopes of Achi Baba. Elsewhere a few isolated buildings remained, and arches of an ancient aqueduct which had formerly brought water to Sedd-el-Bahr, still stood. But the inhabitants of the nullahs had not fled. Who that heard them will ever forget the frogs of the nullahs at night? A vivid memory of this will remain when things of more importance are forgotten. The average Lancashire man had read that frogs croak, and had accepted the statement tolerantly, as we acquiesce when told that, in spite of appearances, Sirius is really larger than the moon, or that the earth goes round the sun. Now they heard them, and considered “croak” too feeble and inexpressive a word. Some had perhaps read Aristophanes, and had assumed that the frogs of sunnier climes might voice their joys and sorrows less decorously than those which reside in suburban ponds near Manchester. At first the origin of the noise[3] gave rise to much conjecture, a popular notion being that the Gurkhas were responsible. Anything out of the common might be attributed to them. Had it not been printed in the newspapers that the Gurkhas observed a strange rite in respect of the shedding of blood whenever they drew their kukris, to show to the curious stranger or to put a still keener edge on the blade? And did they not throw these heavy, curved knives at the enemy? Accepting such statements as facts it was quite simple to believe that you yourself had seen them do these strange things. So the noise was made by the Gurkhas, and doubtless some unfortunate Turks were having a most unpleasant time.

The Fauna of Gallipoli

Other interesting and unusual fauna were the tortoises, lizards, tarantulas, and scorpions. The tortoises were decidedly popular, and the lizards entertaining, but no one loved the others. At a later date some ammunition was wasted on the flocks of migrating cranes and storks that flew over in wedge-shaped phalanx, until shooting at them was forbidden. The number of birds which lived and nested on the peninsula, undeterred by, and apparently indifferent to, the noise, carnage and destruction and the presence of armies where men had hitherto been infrequent visitors, was remarkable. Linnets, goldfinches, turtle-doves, magpies, jackdaws, and other familiar birds were common. During the summer many rollers were seen, and were called “parrots” from the brilliance of their plumage. Black-headed buntings, having yellow plumage, were mistaken for canaries. Birds of prey abounded, from the griffon vulture seen in May on the cliffs of Helles to the abundant kestrel. Levantine sheerwaters, known to the Turks as “the souls of the damned”—a name which gained in significance as the months passed—flew in flocks round the cape. The winter brought homely English birds, robins and dunnocks, starlings and chaffinches, to remind men of home.

Another noise which for a time puzzled the lads from Lancashire was a weird, penetrating cry heard in the morning and evening. There were various conjectures as to its origin, but finally the more enlightened decided that it was the muezin calling the Faithful to prayer.

Having given some idea of the conditions in Gallipoli and the nature of the country, we return to the narrative of events.

On May 11 the East Lancashire Division was ordered to take over the whole of the British front line, except that portion held by the Indian Brigade, which came under the command of General Douglas for a few days. The line was taken over in the course of the night and of the morning of the 12th. It was a pitch dark night with heavy rain, and few of those who took part will forget this first experience.

On the evening of the 12th the Manchester Brigade made a demonstration to draw attention from an important movement by the Indian Brigade on their left. The high cliff overlooking the ravine of “Y” Beach was strongly held by the enemy, and the machine guns of this formidable redoubt formed an obstacle that must be overcome before further progress could be made. The feint of the Manchesters served its purpose by distracting attention from the storming company of the 6th Gurkhas, and so enabling the hardy little mountaineers to scramble up the cliffs unopposed and rush the redoubt. They held the Turks at bay while their comrades of the other three companies swarmed up the rocks and completed the capture of the position, which received the name of Gurkha Bluff. It was not only a fine bit of work, but also a success of the greatest value. On the same evening the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade opened fire to support a forward movement by French troops on their right.

On May 15 a readjustment of positions was ordered, and on the nights of May 16-17 and 17-18 the reliefs were carried out. The line of trenches was now in four sections. That on the left, held by the 29th Division, including the 29th (Indian) Brigade, ran from the Ægean coast eastward for 1600 yards to the eastern edge of Fir Tree Wood, 300 yards north-west of Krithia Nullah. The next section, held by the East Lancashire Division, extended the line for 1500 yards from the right of the 29th Division, through the Krithia Nullah to the Achi Baba Nullah, which it included. The Royal Naval Division’s section continued the line for 700 yards to the Telegraph Line; and the right section, thence to the coast of the Straits, above the ruin known as “De Tott’s Battery,” about 2100 yards in length, was held by the French Corps Expeditionnaire.

Later this line was termed the Redoubt Line. Saps terminating in T-heads were run out towards the Turkish trenches, and parties told off at night to connect the T-heads and dig themselves in, until two new advanced lines had been made. By the end of May a series of redoubts had been constructed at intervals along the old front line, and these were garrisoned in readiness to meet any temporary success of the enemy. The occasion did not, however, arise. The Manchester Brigade occupied the first line of the second section, with the Lancashire Fusilier Brigade on its right, and the East Lancashire Brigade as reserve. It may be mentioned that at this period the total ammunition available for a battalion consisted of 200 rounds per man, with twelve boxes of 1000 rounds each in reserve in the firing line, and twelve boxes at Battalion Headquarters.

During the three weeks after the disembarkation of the Division had been completed there was little actual fighting, no attack being made by either side. The arrival of the Territorials had strengthened the position sufficiently to discourage Turkish hopes of dislodging the invading force, but no forward movement on a large scale could be contemplated until the ground recently won had been consolidated and the difficulties of transport and supplies reduced. As the line stretched from sea to sea no flanking movement was possible. It was therefore a case of playing for position for a time. Each infantry brigade in turn assisted the French, the R.N. Division, and the Indian Brigade to develop their plans and effect necessary changes, and each in turn relieved the brigade in the first line.

Shelling and Sniping

But though there was a lull in the fighting after the 8th of May the shelling of the trenches, rest camps, cliffs, and beaches never ceased for long. Even bathing parties[4] suffered from the shelling, and the Turkish rifles blazed away day and night without cessation, causing much loss to working-parties and men in bivouac far behind the first line, and even in the R.A.M.C. tents below the cliffs. At dark one could hear from the cliffs of Gully Beach the continuous “plop” of bullets striking the water. There were also casualties from hidden machine guns; and the courage, enterprise, and skill of the Turkish snipers were the cause of many fatal wounds. Owing to the shallowness of the average trench it was difficult even for the most careful and experienced to keep under cover, and most injuries received at this time were head wounds. The Turkish snipers hid in the scrub—some carrying camouflage so far as to paint themselves green—or lay in holes apart from, and generally in advance of, their trench system; and their patience, persistence, and ingenuity evoked reluctant tributes from their foemen. Fir Tree Wood was a happy hunting-ground of the snipers, some of whom had remained in their hiding-places during our advance, in order to pick our men off at short range during the night. The Territorials received valuable tips from the Regulars on the best methods of dealing with snipers, and before long their numbers, and the losses they inflicted, were kept in check.

BATHING POOL IN KRITHIA NULLAH.

THE KRITHIA NULLAH.

EVENING “HATE.”

During this period the men not in the front lines were kept busy unloading supplies at the beaches and transporting them to the dumps, road-making, trench and well digging, and performing many other fatigues. The sappers, who had landed on the 9th and 10th of May, had their hands more than full. The 1st Field Company was in bivouac near Morto Bay on the right, and the 2nd Field Company on the left flank near Pink Farm, a solitary building which became a famous landmark and rendezvous during the campaign. They directed the construction of trenches, of lines of rifle-pits in front of the trenches, of dug-outs, and trench-bridges for armoured cars, improvements of the rough country tracks, work on wells and appliances for distribution of drinking water, and the manufacture of bombs. The digging, deepening, and repairing, and, when material was available, the strengthening of trenches was a never-ending task, which had to be performed under fire from artillery, machine guns, and snipers. The soil was mainly a stiff yellow loam, which stood well unrevetted until rain came, when it was transformed into peculiarly bad mud, and the water would not drain away. Gorse and heather, outcroppings of rock, and in one or two sectors, the tough fir-roots, which interlaced and formed a network at varying depths, added considerably to the difficulties.

The Field Ambulances on landing had equal difficulties to encounter, and the way in which they contrived to overcome them and to makeshift successfully afforded proof of their resource. Dressing stations had to be made in clefts in the cliffs, with tarpaulin sheets stretched from boulder to boulder for shelter. The shortage of appliances and equipment during the first weeks was a serious handicap. As soon as their equipment arrived they moved up to the rear of the bivouacs in the centre of the line. The battalion stretcher-bearers had quickly “made good.” They had had to stand the usual chaff while training, but within a week of landing they had become “heroes” in the eyes of their comrades. The Field Ambulances, lacking tackle, had not been able to provide bearers to evacuate from First-Aid Posts, and the battalion stretcher-bearers carried the wounded a distance of three miles to the beach.

Practically everything required for the army in Gallipoli had to be brought from the base at Mudros, the harbour of the Island of Lemnos, nearly forty miles away. Even water was conveyed overseas to supplement the inadequate local supply. Rations, ammunition, equipment, and material of all sorts were transferred from the ships to flat-bottomed lighters and landed, frequently in rough weather, and generally under fire from the Asiatic coast. The small A.S.C. unit therefore did not enjoy much leisure. No. 2 Transport and Supply Company had given evidence of its efficiency, for, though within ten days after landing it had lost forty-one animals killed, it was found that they possessed one more than the original number landed. Many loose mules were straying around, and the company upheld the rather unenviable reputation of which it boasted in pre-war days of never passing any unconsidered trifles by.

A Divisional Supply dump had been established on the top of the cliffs above “W” Beach, and there it remained until the evacuation. Though in a very exposed position and under daily shell fire it enjoyed a remarkable immunity. The rations were “man-handled” from the beaches to this dump, where they were issued to the Regimental Quartermasters, who brought with them their limbers when they had any, but usually A.S.C. limbers took rations to the R.Q.M.’s dump, about a mile inland, where they were divided in proportion to the strength of companies. Here battalion transport men loaded the pack-animals and led them across country for two or three miles to Battalion Headquarters, a short distance in the rear of the trenches, where the stores were unloaded, and the Transport Officer’s responsibility ended. At Battalion Headquarters a party from each company in the trenches was waiting to carry the rations to Company Headquarters, where the C.Q.M.S. issued to the platoon sergeants the share for their men, and the platoon sergeants in due course divided the articles among the section commanders.

Transport and Rations

On paper this simple daily routine is a mere matter of efficient organization, but in active practice it was something more. The Turk had a very good idea of the routes to be taken, and as he fired more vigorously during the night than in the daytime, the transport, whenever possible, moved up soon after noon while he indulged in his siesta. Rations had, however, often to be taken up at night, and casualties among the A.S.C. men and trench ration parties were frequent. None of the pack-animals had previously been under fire. The load must be packed with equal weight on either side or it will not reach its destination, for the mule, though a convinced individualist, has nothing to learn from the best-organized trade union in the matter of direct action or the lightning strike. The loads consisted of full boxes and half-filled boxes of bully-beef tins, tins of biscuits, jars of rum, sacks of loaves, whole cheeses, tins of jam, bags of tea and sugar, sides of bacon, and on mail-days bags of letters and parcels. The correct balancing and securing of such articles, even on a placid, well-trained horse in a paddock at home, where no more disturbing explosions are to be feared than those caused by a distant motor-cycle, demands no mean skill and sense of proportion. But when shells are bursting close at hand, and mules and horses do their best to prevent the loading and dislodge the loads, it is a very different affair. When the loading has at last been accomplished and the animal is asked to move he will probably kick and buck until the load goes to the winds. Both mules and horses behaved uncommonly well under fire. On the rough tracks the mule was far steadier than the horse and could carry an equal weight. He was more particular about the perfect balance of his load, and would not attempt to carry an uneven pack.

Having finally completed the packing and persuaded the animals to start on the journey to Battalion Headquarters the Transport Officer’s troubles take another turn. He has to find his way in the dark across an open bullet-swept zone with animals that jib and shy as the shells burst, or lie down as the fit takes them, and at times succeed in scattering their packs. These must be collected and laboriously replaced, the driver meanwhile employing the most spirited and forcible terms of endearment in his vocabulary. At times the convoy will be held up by heavy shelling of the area that has to be crossed. Leaving the open they enter one of the nullahs up and down which hundreds of troops are moving, and progress is slow and exasperating. But in spite of all obstacles the transport men daily got the rations through to their comrades in the line. Nor should a word of gratitude to the Indian drivers of the A.T. carts and the Zion Mule Corps be omitted. These men gave efficient help in the transport of stores and material from the beaches to the dumps, and their courage under fire was admirable. The pride the Indians took in the smart and clean turn-out of their mules and carts was the more noticeable as they did not appear to be subject to the ordeal of inspection.

The journeys of the ration-parties from Battalion Headquarters to Company Headquarters were no less exciting than those of the battalion transport parties. Bearing heavy boxes or bags on heads or shoulders they crossed from trench to trench in the open, tripping over wire, stumbling into holes, dodging rifle fire, and, too often, falling victims to the sniper. But the rations arrived and the men were fed.

The rations were monotonous and ill-suited to the climate. They consisted of bacon (for breakfast), bully-beef and biscuit, with a little jam and cheese, a tin of Maconochie’s vegetable rations being at first, but not later, considered a treat, but Maconochie was particularly unsuited to a hot climate. Fruit—even good tinned fruit—and fresh vegetables would have done much to preserve the health of the men during the intense heat of the summer. In due course every man became a more or less expert cook, and to be on visiting terms was a privilege not unattended by risk, as it involved the sampling of many weird experiments and decoctions. Bread from the tents on Bakery Beach was first issued on May 21, and was received with acclamation.

Firewood was very scarce, as there were few trees or bushes, but it had to be obtained somehow for the trench fires over which the men brewed their tea and cooked their food. It was therefore not uncommon in the Helles area, in spite of orders issued to diminish waste, to see a caseful of tins of bully-beef tipped out on the roadside, that the invaluable wooden case might be split up for fuel. Butts of rifles which lay beside their dead owners met the same fate. Evidence of the awful waste of war abounded—weapons, ammunition, equipment, food, clothing, trodden under foot, and left to rust and decay. Where man could not expose himself by day these things remained unsalved for months, but elsewhere they were collected and returned to store. The best place where wood could be “won” was above Bakery Beach. A sentry was put over the wood-pile, but interesting conversation and a few cigarettes would occasionally distract his attention for the needful time.

On May 21 the Brigade Commanders received instructions from the Divisional Commander on various points connected with the latest methods and conditions of siege warfare, such as the use of bombs, sandbags, and loopholes, and the action of snipers. One officer, one N.C.O. and four men from each company were instructed in bombing, under the officer commanding the R.E., and each infantry brigade was allotted 400 bombs. It was found, however, that no more than 225 bombs were available for distribution among the three brigades. The bombs were made from empty jam tins sent down from the trenches to Lancashire Landing, where they were filled (chiefly by the divisional butchers and bakers at first) with old nails, bits of shell and of barbed wire, and other scraps of metal and an explosive charge. At first a time fuse was fitted through the top of the tin, and this had to be lighted by the aid of a match, but before long a detonating fuse was fitted. Matches were scarce and valuable, and in wind and rain many were wasted before the fuse could be lighted. These bombs were first issued in very small quantities about an hour before the attack began on June 4.

On the 25th of May occurred the memorable cloud-burst on Achi Baba, and in a few moments the nullahs were in spate, the trenches flooded, and thousands of men soaked to the skin. It was an Act of God which could not be foreseen or provided against, and the hardship inflicted upon the troops was very great. For a time the Krithia Nullah was impassable, and many dead Turks were carried down. The Lancashire Fusiliers Brigade Headquarters was under four feet of water for several hours, and the Signal Office was washed away. One battalion was enjoying beef-steaks in the dug-outs when a roar of water was heard, and a stream twenty feet wide quickly filled every dug-out. With British tenacity the men held on to chunks of bread and of steak as they scrambled for higher ground.

The Submarine Menace

Towards the end of the month the submarine menace developed into a very real danger to the men-of-war in these waters. The battleship Triumph was torpedoed on May 25 as she lay at anchor with nets out, off Anzac. She sank in ten minutes with a loss of ten officers and sixty-eight men. Two days later, the Majestic, Rear-Admiral Nicholson’s flagship, lying off Cape Helles, fell a victim to the same German submarine, and sank in six fathoms. Fortunately all but forty-eight men were saved. This disaster was witnessed by many of the Territorials on the beaches and cliffs. As other British and French battleships were attacked by submarines about the same time, it became clear that naval co-operation must be dispensed with, or considerably reduced, as ships at anchor offered too easy a target for torpedoes.

The Queen Elizabeth had been ordered home on the first hint of danger, and now all the large ships were sent back to the safety of Mudros, and the regatta-like gathering at the mouth of the Dardanelles melted away. The Turk promptly seized the opportunity for propaganda purposes. An ingeniously worded pamphlet, printed in English, French, and Hindustani, and dropped from aeroplanes, notified the invaders that all their battleships and transports had been destroyed, that the Germans had gained control of the seas, and that no further supplies need be expected. “Don’t take our word for it, but see for yourselves. Last week you saw a large fleet of all kinds of vessels off Cape Helles. Look for it to-day. You have fought bravely; give yourselves up now to an enemy who respects your valour and will treat you well.” Tommy laughed. He had got his rations for the day, and the morrow would take care of itself.

On the 25th of May the designation of the Division was changed, and as the “42nd (East Lancashire) Division” it took precedence in numerical order of all other Territorial divisions. The Lancashire Fusilier Brigade became the 125th Infantry Brigade; the East Lancashire Brigade the 126th; and the Manchester Brigade the 127th. On May 27 the 126th Brigade was split up among various battalions of the 29th Division in order to bring those depleted battalions up to strength pending the arrival of drafts from England.

CHAPTER III
GALLIPOLI
(June 1915—January 1916)

The situation in Gallipoli on the 1st of June, 1915, was disappointing. Much more had been hoped for than had been accomplished, and the loss incurred for so small a gain had been three times as great as the maximum for which the authorities had made preparation.

After five weeks of toil and struggle, valour and self-sacrifice, unsurpassed in history, no more had been achieved than the securing of a mere foothold on the peninsula. Only incurable “optimists” in England could ignore that fact, but, discouraging though it was, the prospect would have been less gloomy had there been any reasonable hope of a steady inflow of drafts to fill the great gaps in the ranks, and of reinforcements of sufficient strength to permit a breathing-space to the overworked, worn-out remnants of the heroic 29th Division. Instead, the Russian collapse under Hindenburg’s blows in Courland, Galicia and Poland took away all hope of support from the north and east, and set free Turkish divisions in the Caucasus and Asia Minor for employment in defence of the peninsula. Bulgaria, too, was about to join in on the side of her ancient enemy against her former friends; submarine activity had become a very real menace to communications and had deprived the invaders of the support of the heavy naval guns; and the shortage of shells, especially of high explosive, placed them at a great disadvantage. The daily allowance was limited to three rounds per gun, and at times to one round, whereas the French 75’s were firing continuously.

The Plan of Battle

The casualties of the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force already numbered 38,600, and though it was calculated that the enemy had lost at least 55,000 men, the damage done to the defending force was not in proportion to that received by the invading force in view of their relative resources. The difficulties had been underestimated, and the preparations inadequate, and as the present position at Helles was an impossible one, it was necessary to move forward and, by repeated assaults, to push the enemy’s lines farther and farther from the landing-places. With this object in view an attack on a large scale had been planned for the beginning of the month. As a preliminary to this Lieut.-General Hunter-Weston, commanding the 8th Army Corps, held a conference at the Corps Headquarters on May 27, to settle details of an advance along the whole front in order to bring the first-line trenches within assaulting distance of the Turkish trenches. By 11.10 p.m. the movement was reported completed, and the troops were digging themselves in. Casualties had been few, but next morning it was found that in the darkness mistakes had been made and the new line was, in places, from 50 to 150 yards in rear of the positions indicated. On the night of May 28-29 a fresh advance to rectify mistakes was successfully carried out by the 127th Brigade, but this time the casualty list was much heavier.

Gallipoli Peninsula

Southern Zone

Map shewing British Trenches and Turkish Front Line

On June 3 orders for the attack were issued. The French objective was the line of the Kereves Dere Nullah. The first objective of the 8th Army Corps (of which the 42nd Division formed the centre, with the 29th Division and the Indian Brigade on their left, and the R.N. Division on the right) was the main line of Turkish trenches, about 200 yards from the British first line. The second objective was the enemy’s third line.

At 8 a.m. the next morning (June 4) the heavy guns and howitzers would open the bombardment of certain strong positions. At 11.5 a.m. an intense bombardment of the enemy trenches would begin. At 11.20 all guns except those on the approach lines would cease fire, and the infantry would cheer, raise their bayonets above the parapet, as though about to assault, with the object of inducing the Turk to occupy his front trenches, which would be heavily bombarded by all guns and howitzers, the machine-guns firing in bursts as targets presented themselves. At 12 noon the first line of infantry would advance, without firing, to the assault of the first objective, the batteries lifting to range on the trenches farther back. At 12.15 the second wave would advance, pass through the first line, and attack the second objective.

Divisional conferences were held at the Headquarters of the 125th Brigade, and General Douglas issued and explained his orders, and disposed the troops under his command as follows: First wave—two battalions of the 127th Brigade consisting of a half-battalion each of the 7th, 5th, 8th and 6th Manchesters, from right to left in the order named. The objective for this line was the front line of the Turkish trenches. A half-battalion of the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers was to follow in support on the left flank. The second wave consisted of the remaining half-battalions of the 127th Brigade. Their orders were to rush through the front line of Turkish trenches and gain the second objective, which was less than a mile from Krithia. A half-battalion of the 6th L.F., as working party, and the 1st Field Company, R.E., were to follow the first wave; the other half-battalion and the 2nd Field Company were to follow the second wave, to consolidate the lines gained. All the above troops were under the command of Brig.-General Noel Lee. The remaining half-battalion of the 5th L.F. was to form the garrison of the line of trenches held as the firing-line before the attack. The 9th Manchesters were to occupy the second line, which was strengthened by redoubts. The 7th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers were to be in Divisional Reserve. The 9th Manchesters was the only battalion of the 126th Brigade acting with the Division, the 4th and 5th East Lancashires and the 10th Manchesters being still split up among the skeleton battalions of the 29th Division.

Battle of June 4, 1915

The bombardment that opened at 8 a.m. on June 4 was the heaviest and most prolonged that the peninsula had witnessed. At 11 a.m. every available gun both on land and sea was firing, including six batteries of four guns each of the famous 75’s, generously lent by the French Commander. These were firing high-explosive shell. The whole Turkish line was enveloped in smoke, and it seemed impossible that any positions could withstand its fury. The village of Krithia and, indeed, the whole of the hillside appeared to be a mass of flame and dust. The plan to cease fire on the front trenches at 11.20 a.m. had the effect intended, and the enemy prepared to meet the expected assault. A hail of bullets swept over the trenches of the 127th Brigade, and a few moments later the renewal of the bombardment caught the Turks as they were manning the trenches or hastening through the communication trenches to reinforce their thinly held front line.

The last half-hour of waiting was a severe test of nerves, and it was a relief both to the imaginative and the stolid when the hour of noon arrived. But the Manchesters had already been proved. The operations of the end of May, the digging in No Man’s Land to push the first line closer to the enemy, while the Turk knew perfectly well what was intended and had been able, by the light of a waxing moon, to thin out the working-parties, had been highly dangerous and trying to the nerves. The losses had been deplorable, but the will to overcome the difficulties and to face the dangers with resolution had prevailed, and had given officers, N.C.O.s and men confidence in one another. Each platoon, each company, knew that it would not let the others down when the big event should come off. And now the hour had struck. Promptly at twelve o’clock the leading wave of the 127th Brigade went over the top for the first time, and advanced steadily and in good order. They were met by devastating rifle and machine-gun fire, but those who escaped the bullets pressed on in a steady line and by bitter hand-to-hand fighting made good their first objective. In places the wire was untouched by the bombardment, and men died cutting it that their comrades might pass through. The second wave followed at the appointed time. Within five minutes the Turkish first-line trenches had been captured, and the second in half an hour, and during the afternoon the fourth line of Turkish trenches had been penetrated. Sappers accompanying the successive waves found and disconnected buried mines, and assisted in the construction of new trenches and the reversal of captured ones. On the left the 29th Division had seized their first objective, but their further advance was checked, as the barbed wire on their left remained undamaged, and the Indian Brigade was held up by this obstacle. The professional soldiers of this division paid generous tribute to the amateurs of the 4th and 5th East Lancashires and 10th Manchesters, who fought with such spirit and determination within their ranks.

On the right, however, an initial success was soon followed by a reverse which had disastrous consequences. The R.N. Division had gone forward with a dash that did credit to these young untrained soldiers, and with a considerable measure of success. On their right the French had rushed a formidable redoubt, called from its shape “the Haricot,” but unfortunately their colonial troops, magnificent in attack, lack the confidence and dogged resolution in adversity that characterize our “native” troops from the Punjab and Nepal. They gave way before a furious bombardment and counter-attack, and the Haricot, once more in Turkish possession, proved a fatal obstacle. With their right flank exposed to the concentrated fire of innumerable machine-guns the Naval Division, cruelly reduced in numbers—one brigade losing sixty officers—were compelled to fall back to their original line, leaving the right flank of the 42nd Division in the air, the gap being 300 yards from front to rear. The Turk possesses individual initiative and resource in full measure, and he was quick to take advantage of the situation. Also, he was amply provided with bombs, whereas at this date our men had none—a serious handicap in close fighting. His bombing parties began to eat their way into this flank, which was also enfiladed by rifle and machine-gun fire, and in spite of the most determined opposition of the Manchesters, of the L.F. who were in support, and of a party of Engineers under Lieutenant Oscar Taunton, who threw back the enemy’s grenades until wounded, the position became critical.

In the meantime the 7th Lancashire Fusiliers had been moved up to the old fire trenches when these were vacated by the second wave, and at 2.45 p.m. two companies of the 8th L.F. were sent to fill the gap between the right of the 127th Brigade and the R.N. Division. At 3.35 p.m. it was seen that the enemy was massing troops in a nullah on this flank, seriously threatening the foremost line. The French Commander had, however, promised to make a fresh attack on the Haricot at 4 p.m., and this, by enabling the R.N. Division to advance, should relieve the pressure. Our Allies were unable, however, to make this attack, and the position of the 7th Manchesters on the right becoming quite untenable, the Divisional Commander, after consulting the Corps Commander, at 6.30 p.m. ordered the withdrawal of the foremost line to the main Turkish trench. The retirement was made with the greatest reluctance; indeed, the few remaining officers had great difficulty in making the men realize that the order to withdraw must be obeyed. The idea of giving up the ground they had won was almost unbearable, for the four Manchester battalions had resolved to hold on to their gains, whatever the cost might be. “C” Company of the 6th Manchesters had penetrated to a considerable distance beyond the bifurcation of the nullahs, but, being enfiladed from the higher ground on the right, found it impossible to retire. Its commander, Captain H. B. Pilkington, was mortally wounded in the head, but, propped up in the trench, he continued to direct and encourage his men. The company was practically wiped out.

The cost had indeed been great. Of the 770 men of the 6th Manchesters only 160 answered to the roll-call that night. A company of the 8th Manchesters which at noon leapt out of the trenches nearly 200 strong, could only muster 18, and from the other units there were similar reports. Early in the afternoon Brig.-General Noel Lee had received a shell-wound in the throat from which he died on June 21 in hospital at Malta. When he fell, Lieut.-Colonel Heys, 8th Manchesters, assumed command, until, an hour later, he was compelled to return to his battalion, as hardly any of its officers were left; and he was killed soon after he rejoined. The last remaining officer of this battalion, Captain Oldfield, was killed shortly after he had organized the withdrawal of the battalion. Lieut.-Colonel Lord Rochdale, 6th Lancashire Fusiliers, was ordered to succeed Colonel Heys, and he remained in temporary command of the 127th Brigade until June 21. The 7th Manchesters had also lost their C.O., Major Staveacre, who had succeeded to the command of the battalion on May 28, when Lieut.-Colonel Gresham was invalided to Malta.

The work of the Battalion Medical Officers and stretcher-bearers was beyond praise, but what can be said of the grit of the wounded! One M.O. records that from the 120 men who passed through his Regimental Aid Post, many being badly wounded and obviously in great pain, he did not hear even a whimper. Much difficulty was experienced in getting the wounded down the crowded and battered trenches and communication ways. The advanced Dressing Station of the 3rd Field Ambulance was in the Achi Baba Nullah, half a mile above Backhouse Post; that of the 1st Field Ambulance was at Clapham Junction. It was a rough journey for wounded men from either of these posts to the Central Clearing Station on “W” Beach; only hand carriage was available for those who could not walk, and there were many casualties among the bearers, though they were not fired upon deliberately. The wounded could not be attended to quickly enough to prevent a line of stretcher cases, waiting to be dressed, forming outside the stations.

The Territorials had proved themselves in the Division’s first pitched battle, not merely with credit, but with distinction. Though the assaulting waves had been exposed to converging fire from higher ground on either flank their attack had been brilliantly successful. At the end of the day the front had only been advanced by 400 yards, yet the Manchesters had gained 1000 yards, and could have advanced still farther. Indeed, there can be little doubt that the Turkish centre had been pierced, and that, had not the troops on their right been compelled to fall back, or had there been reserves to bring forward, they would have seized the high ground behind the village of Krithia, the key to the Achi Baba position. The Division had captured 217 prisoners, including 11 officers.

The 5th of June was mainly given over to the consolidation of the front to meet the expected counter-attack. On the evening of the 5th the first line was still held by the 127th Brigade, but during the night part of it was relieved by the 125th Brigade. There were two weak points—

(1) A pronounced salient where the right of the 42nd Division linked with the left of the R.N. Division. A strong work was in process of formation to strengthen this.

(2) The ground between the Vineyard and the right branch of the Krithia Nullah had many facilities for bringing enfilade and reverse fire to bear on our line. This became the scene of the hardest fighting.

Turkish Counter-attacks, June 6, 1915

At 3.45 a.m. on the 6th the enemy began to shell our line: at 4.25 a.m. strong bodies of Turks were working their way down the Krithia nullahs. At the same time an attack was delivered on the trenches held by the 8th Manchesters, but this unit had just been reinforced by three platoons of the 7th Lancashire Fusiliers, and the attack was easily repulsed. Some Turks succeeded in getting part of the trench held by the 5th Manchesters, but were driven out again by the combined action of the 5th Manchesters and the 5th Lancashire Fusiliers. At 6.20 a.m. the 88th Brigade, on the left, were obliged to fall back slightly, and as this exposed the left flank of the 5th L.F., they were forced to fall back below the bifurcation of the nullahs. Here they were reinforced by a weak company of the 7th Lancashire Fusiliers. Bombing attacks and bayonet charges continued throughout the morning, and reserves were brought into the front lines until the Divisional Reserve consisted of only 60 men of the 7th L.F. Casualties were heavy, Lieut.-Colonel Fallows of the 8th L.F., and his second-in-command, Major Baddeley, being among the killed. The three battalions of the 126th Brigade should have rejoined the Division on the 5th, but they, too, had been fiercely attacked, and, though suffering severely, were upholding the credit of the Lancashire Territorials. As the 29th Division could not spare any of these three battalions, the Chatham Battalion of the R.N. Division was attached to the 42nd Division at noon on the 6th, and held in reserve.

By 1 p.m. the situation had improved, and the number of Turks in and around the nullahs had greatly diminished. The 5th and 7th L.F. were now ordered to take the offensive; the small redoubt near to the bifurcation of nullahs, which had been captured by the enemy, was attacked and retaken. By the evening of the 6th the enemy’s attack, which had been made in great strength and with much bravery, had been repulsed. His losses had been considerable, and his only gain was the small indentation by the Krithia Nullah. For three days the fight had raged without intermission. Worn-out, hungry, thirsty, sleepless men had fought and dug and fought again until the line had been firmly established and held by the physically exhausted remnants; and the battalions that had suffered most had time to rest and lick their wounds.

On June 7 counter-operations were undertaken after dark with the object of straightening the line from the Vineyard towards the nullah. The attack was divided into three parts, the right being entrusted to 100 men of the 9th Manchesters, and 20 men of the 1st Field Company; the centre and left each to a company of the Chatham Battalion. The 9th Manchesters succeeded, but the left and centre failed to attain their objective. On the night of June 8-9 the 127th Brigade was withdrawn to Corps Reserve, and its place in the firing-line taken by the 126th Brigade, the three detached battalions having rejoined.

The casualties in the 42nd Division during the four weeks amounted to—

In his Official Despatch, General Sir Ian Hamilton made special mention of the part taken by the 42nd Division in the action of the past few days.

“The Manchester Brigade of 42nd Division advanced magnificently. In five minutes the first line of Turkish trenches was captured, and by 12.30 p.m. the Brigade had carried with a rush the line forming their second objective, having made an advance of 600 yards in all. The working parties got to work without incident, and the position here could not possibly have been better.”

After describing the withdrawal of the R.N. Division, Sir Ian proceeds—

“The question was now whether this rolling up of the newly captured line from the right would continue until the whole of our gains were wiped out. It looked very like it, for now the enfilade fire of the Turks began to fall upon the Manchester Brigade of the 42nd Division, which was firmly consolidating the furthest distant line of trenches it had so brilliantly won. After 1.30 p.m. it became increasingly difficult for this gallant Brigade to hold its ground. Heavy casualties occurred; the Brigadier and many other officers were wounded or killed; yet it continued to hold out with tenacity and grit. Every effort was made to sustain the Brigade in its position. Its right flank was thrown back to make face against the enfilade fire, and reinforcements were sent to try and fill the diagonal gap between it and the Royal Naval Division.... By 6.30 p.m., therefore, the 42nd Division had to be extricated with loss from the second line Turkish trenches, and had to content themselves with consolidating on the first line which they had captured within five minutes of commencing the attack. Such was the spirit displayed by this Brigade that there was great difficulty in persuading the men to fall back. Had their flanks been covered nothing would have made them loosen their grip.”

In a private letter from Sir Ian Hamilton to the Divisional Commander the following sentence occurs: “As a matter of fact I never saw any finer piece of work than that performed by the Manchesters that day.”

Appreciation

Later on the evening of June 4 this message from the Divisional Commander was conveyed to all ranks—

The following message from Lieut.-General A. G. Hunter-Weston, C.B., D.S.O., received at 8.33 p.m. on June 4, is published for information—

“Please express to the 42nd Division, and particularly to the 127th Brigade, my appreciation of the magnificent work done by them to-day. The 127th Brigade attacked with gallantry, and held on to the objective ordered with tenacity. It was a very fine performance. Please convey this to all the troops of the Division when possible, and tell them that I deeply appreciate their gallant conduct and devotion to their duty. The renown they have gained for the Division will not only reach the ears of all in Lancashire, but throughout the British Empire. I feel sure that the same tenacity will be maintained to-night and throughout the Campaign.”

On the night of June 12-13 the 127th Brigade embarked for a period of rest and reorganization on the island of Imbros. Any who fondly imagined that the term “rest” implied a period of repose and pleasant recreation were soon disillusioned, for fatigue parties were much in request at the Imbros base, and guards had to be provided for the various stores. While there, the men were inspected and addressed by the Commander-in-Chief, who assured them of his appreciation of the Brigade’s gallantry on June 4. Its place in the line was taken by the 155th Brigade, which with the 156th Brigade had arrived at Helles in advance of the Headquarters of the 52nd (Lowland Territorial) Division. When the 127th Brigade returned on June 22 and 23, Brig.-General the Hon. H. A. Lawrence (later Chief of the General Staff in France) took over the command. The 5th and 6th Lancashire Fusiliers and the 10th Manchesters next had their period of rest; the first-named at Mudros and the others at Imbros. When they returned on July 9 and 10, the 7th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers and the 5th East Lancashires took their turns, the Fusiliers’ period of recuperation being cut down to four days. On July 13 Brig.-General Viscount Hampden assumed command of the 126th Brigade.

Though there were many minor operations during June and July no action on a large scale took place after June 8 on the divisional front. Enemy activity was kept down by local counter-attacks and bomb-raids. In one of the former the 126th Brigade’s attack between the Vineyard and Krithia Nullah on June 18 was anticipated by the enemy, and the 10th Manchesters suffered severely. The first trench raid of the Division was made about this time. Lieutenant Bennett Burleigh, 7th L.F., with six volunteers, crawled up an old communication trench and bombed a small redoubt held by Turkish snipers. The party returned without a scratch, though several men of the 8th L.F., who were giving supporting fire, were killed or wounded. This raid was the more notable in that it took place an hour before noon, and, as was hoped, the Turk was caught asleep. On July 2, the same officer (who was killed in action a few days later) accompanied by two men, went out twice by daylight and once after dark along the Turkish communication trench which ran through the Vineyard, and brought back valuable information. On the 5th the 7th Manchesters helped to repulse a fierce attack on the 29th Division on their left, and the battalion wiped out about 150 of the enemy. On the night of the 10th, Lieutenant O. J. Sutton and Sergeant Grantham, both of the 9th Manchesters, made a daring and successful reconnaissance of a new Turkish trench, and on the following night went out again and ascertained by measurement its exact position.

About the middle of the month the first Monitors arrived, each carrying two huge guns, and before long other strange marine objects appeared—the “blister ships” and the “beetles.” The former were cruisers which even at anchor could ignore the submarine menace, and the latter were motor-lighters with a drawbridge at the bows, and they could carry 500 men to the landings, protected from bullets and shrapnel by the iron decks and sides. The need for such protection increased with the daily evidence of the enemy’s improved supplies of guns and ammunition. On one morning seven hundred shells dropped on Lancashire Landing alone. On July 23 the Division had been reinforced by 47 officers and 1500 other ranks from the second line in England, but these did not nearly make good the losses. The 18th Battery, R.F.A., and the 1/4th E. Lancs (Cumberland and Westmorland) Howitzer Brigade had also arrived from Egypt during the month, and with them Brig.-General A. D’A. King, D.S.O., who was given the command of all artillery in the right-half sector of the Corps. The 5th Battery under Major Browning, and the two guns of the 6th Battery had been continuously in action, and had firmly established the credit of the Territorial Artillery. On July 24 Major-General Douglas had assumed temporary command of the 8th Corps until August 8, the command of the Division during that period being taken by Major-General W. R. Marshall.

Battle of the Vineyard, August 6-7, 1915

On August 6 the period of comparative inactivity came to an end. The primary purpose of the Gallipoli campaign was to obtain possession of the Narrows, and thus secure command of the Dardanelles and cut off communication with the Asiatic shore. It had been hoped to achieve this by pushing forward from the south, but the original force had been far too small for the purpose. During May, June and July the Turkish garrison had been much increased, and also the supply of guns and shells, and the defences on Achi Baba greatly and most ably strengthened, whereas the British reinforcements and drafts to fill the gaps had been relatively small. There was little prospect of success by a frontal assault from Helles, and the loss that would be incurred by a futile attempt would cripple the Allies and remove all chance of ultimate success. The Commander-in-Chief decided upon an attempt to reach the Narrows at Maidos, five miles across the peninsula from Anzac, the formidable Sari Bair range intervening. A new landing was to be made on August 6 and 7 at Suvla Bay, a few miles to the north of Anzac cove, and it was hoped that the force landed here would seize the northern slopes of the Sari Bair range, while the troops from Anzac would storm the central and southern heights. On August 6 an attack was to be made from the right of Anzac in order to divert attention from both the landing and the true objective; and a vigorous offensive was ordered at Helles, with the object of containing as large a Turkish force as possible within the southern area and of drawing their reserves from the north. There appeared to be good prospects of a decisive success, and hopes were high.

The line of trenches from the Achi Baba Nullah to the Krithia Nullah (both inclusive) was held by the 125th Brigade on the right and the 127th on the left, the 126th being in reserve. The French were on the right of the 125th Brigade and the 29th Division on the left of the 127th. The 5th Manchesters, who were acting in conjunction with the 88th Brigade (29th Division) had for objective a Turkish trench on the right of that Brigade. The bombardment began at 2.30 p.m. on the 6th, and soon H.E. shells could be seen bursting in the trench which the 5th had been ordered to take. At 3.50 p.m. they attacked, but on reaching the objective, found that they had been enticed into a dummy trench, without cover, and exposed to enfilade fire. To prevent the right flank of the 29th Division being left “in the air,” Captain Fawcus, commanding the first line of the 7th Manchesters, was ordered, about 8 p.m., to get into touch. Arriving at a trench which he expected to find occupied by the 88th Brigade, he called out: “Are the Worcesters there?” and was heavily fired upon. Moving to the left he still found the enemy in occupation of the trench, and fell back. On his way to rejoin the second line he came across a small party of the Worcesters and took them with him. The two lines regained the firing-line in the small hours of the morning, having lost 40 men out of 200. That Captain Fawcus returned safely was amazing, his clothes being riddled with bullets.

A few hours later the Battle of the Vineyard began, the bombardment by British and French batteries opening at 8.10 a.m., and increasing in intensity at nine o’clock when the naval guns joined in. The fire on the trenches south-east of Krithia Nullah was both heavy and accurate, but the trenches within the triangle formed by the fork of the nullahs suffered but little. Half a battalion of the 126th Brigade was attached to the 125th Brigade on the right, and another half-battalion to the 127th Brigade on the left. One battalion of the 126th Brigade was to hold the original line. Two batteries of machine-guns assisted by bringing a cross fire to bear on the enemy’s trenches.

At 9.40 a.m., the troops went forward with their usual dash, wearing tin back-plates that could be seen by the artillery “spotters.” On the right the Lancashire Fusiliers gained their first objective, but the 5th and 8th found that their portion was merely a very shallow trench raked by enfilade fire. Parties of the 6th and 7th reached their second objective, but enfilade fire and superior numbers compelled them to fall back. One of the few officers to reach this objective was Major W. J. Law, 7th Lancashire Fusiliers, who took part in all the subsequent fighting in the Vineyard. Soon after 11 a.m. portions of the first objective were retaken by a strong Turkish counter-attack, but the Vineyard remained in our hands. The 5th and 7th L.F. made a gallant effort to recover what had been lost and were partially successful. At 1.30 p.m. another enemy counter-attack in close formation was caught by our guns and brought to a standstill. The Turks suffered severely in counter-attacks upon the Vineyard, and for some hours gave up the attempt in this quarter, but resumed it late at night with no more success. The 5th and 8th L.F. reoccupied a portion of their first objective in the evening. Parties of the 4th East Lancashires and 10th Manchesters gave great assistance both in attack and defence. On the left the Manchesters showed similar dash and determination, but owing to the greater difficulties of the ground between and about the nullahs and to the intricacy of the Turkish trench system, which, with the nests of machine-guns, had escaped our shells, they were unable to hold any of the trenches taken in the initial assault, and their losses were grievous, the attacking lines being mown down by the enemy’s machine-guns.

The casualties during the two days were—

The result was that a tactical point of some importance had been won and held by the tenacity of the 125th Brigade, and that a large Turkish force had been pinned down when urgently needed in the north. The Turks had, indeed, been massing troops in front of the Division as they had intended to attack our lines in force, on the 6th or 7th of August. Sir Ian Hamilton telegraphed to the Corps Commander: “Your operations have been invaluable, and have given the Northern Corps the greatest possible help by drawing the main Turkish effort on yourselves. I was sure you were ready for them to-night. Well done, 8th Corps.”

But though the sacrifice had not been altogether in vain, the advance from Suvla Bay and Anzac had failed, and the conquest of the Dardanelles seemed more remote than ever. And yet for one half-hour it had seemed so near! Of all the many lamentable tragedies of the campaign surely the most dramatic, the most appealing, was that on Chunuk Bair, at dawn on the 9th of August, when companies of the 6th Gurkhas and 6th South Lancashires had stormed the cliffs and driven the Turks headlong before them. From the top of the saddle they looked down upon the promised land. Below them the goal—Maidos, and the Narrows! The way lay open and victory was in sight—was already achieved!—and the Turkish Army in the south would be cut off! But these four hundred men alone of all the Allied troops that landed on the peninsula were destined to view the promised land. Flushed with triumph, Gurkhas and Lancastrians intermingled raced down the slopes after the fleeing Turks. And then the blow fell—truly a bolt out of the blue—a salvo of heavy shells crashing with infernal accuracy into the midst of them, mangling and destroying the exulting victors. Where that salvo came from will probably never be known with certainty, but there can be little doubt that the shells were British. The remnants of the little force could only make for shelter; there was no shelter in front, and the chance had gone, never to return.

The first V.C.

To return to the 42nd Division. In and about the Vineyard held by the 6th and 7th Lancashire Fusiliers, the fighting surged and swayed for several days. The Turk fought gamely, with grim determination, and the casualties on both sides were heavy. The C.O.s of the two battalions had been ordered to remain at their Headquarters in communication with the Brigadier, and the Adjutants, Captains Spafford and Gledhill, held on tenaciously. Spafford was killed, and the order to retire was sent, but Gledhill’s pertinacity got this order withdrawn, and the Vineyard was held. A successful and very gallant stand against great odds was made by “A” Company, 9th Manchesters, on the night of August 7-8, when the first V.C. awarded to the Division was won by Lieutenant W. T. Forshaw, who was in temporary command of the company. Two M.C.s and two D.C.M.s were also won by the company. Forshaw was holding the northern corner of this small oblong with a bombing party when he was attacked by a swarm of Turks who converged from three trenches. For the greater part of two days he kept them at bay, and even threw back, before they had time to explode, the bombs they threw at him. In the words of the Official Report—

“He held his own, not only directing his men and encouraging them by exposing himself with the utmost disregard of danger, but personally throwing bombs continuously for forty-one hours. When his detachment was relieved after twenty-four hours, he volunteered to continue the direction of operations. Three times during the night of August 8-9 he was again heavily attacked, and once the Turks got over the barricade; but after shooting three with his revolver he led his men forward and recaptured it. When he rejoined his battalion he was choked and sickened by bomb fumes, badly bruised by a fragment of shrapnel, and could barely lift his arm from continuous bomb throwing.”

On the 8th and 9th the 126th Brigade relieved the 125th and continued the struggle, and Lieutenant S. Collier, 6th Manchesters, gained the M.C. for a good bit of work on the right of the Vineyard. A trench held by a group of men of the 126th Brigade was fiercely attacked by enemy bombers, and its capture appeared certain. Collier, however, organized and led the defence, and though he had never before handled a bomb, he displayed much aptitude with this weapon; and in spite of persistent attacks, continued throughout the night, the Turks were beaten off. On the night of the 12th the enemy attacked in mass and captured the Vineyard, but the next day were bombed out of it, and it was finally consolidated and held. Throughout the operations the Divisional Engineers had worked and exposed themselves as fearlessly as ever. Their services were continuously in demand, and they had never been found wanting. The bulk of the work on this occasion had fallen on the 1st Field Company. The Signal Company, too, had proved how competent all its branches were. Much of its work is not done in the limelight, and it may be mentioned that the average number of messages passing through the Signal Office daily had been about three hundred. In times of stress this number was greatly increased.

On August 13 the 42nd Division was relieved in the trenches and went into Corps Reserve. The following 8th Army Corps Special Order was issued next day—

“The 42nd Division has now been withdrawn into Reserve after having been in the firing-line for three months without relief. During this time the Division has taken part in three big attacks, and has been subjected to the continuous strain of holding, improving and extending our line and communications under constant fire.

“Though some units have distinguished themselves more than others, the Division has, throughout this arduous period, displayed a dash in attack and a spirit of determination and endurance in defence which is worthy of the best traditions of the British Army. The persistence with which the enemy were held off during the recent determined attack, and part of the ground lost gradually recovered in face of strong opposition, was a fitting conclusion to the period during which the Division has been in front line.

“The Lieut.-General Commanding wishes to express to Major-General Douglas and his staff, as well as to all ranks of the Division, his appreciation of their good work, and he looks forward to seeing them again display the same soldierly qualities in active operations against the enemy at an early date.”

CAPT. FORSHAW, V.C., 1/9 BN. MANCHESTER REGT.

GULLY BEACH.

The Division, however, was not destined to enjoy a long period of rest, as orders were received at noon on the 19th to take over the trenches of the Left Section in relief of the 29th Division which had been ordered to Suvla. This was completed by 8.30 p.m. More than a thousand officers and men had rejoined from hospital in Alexandria, and small drafts arrived from England, but the Division was still much below strength; and as reinforcements for the Division practically ceased after August, it is indeed amazing that the units held together in view of the terrible losses through fighting and disease. The second line, from which alone drafts for the Territorials could be obtained, was formed into a Division (the 66th) for employment in France. To all intents this meant that battalions must dwindle into companies and companies into platoons or even sections. But there was no corresponding reduction in responsibility. For instance, a Field Company of twenty or thirty sappers, most of whom would be worn out by overwork and sickness, must still do the work of a hundred fit men. The sappers had not enjoyed even the brief period of rest accorded to other units.

Sickness and Pests

Enemies more insidious than the Turk, and regarded with far greater detestation, had appeared during the past two months. The ravages of sickness had reduced the fighting strength of the Division more than had the bullets of the enemy. Dysentery and jaundice were rampant, and an epidemic of septic sores ran through the Division. The seasoned veterans fared better than the new reinforcements, who succumbed at an appalling rate. There had been no break in the hot, dry weather. Many of the wells had gradually become defiled, others had run dry, and this no doubt contributed greatly to the amount of sickness. The insanitary conditions inseparable from the type of warfare waged in so confined and exposed a space, the continuous strain exacted from all, the lack of sleep, the tropical heat, the monotonous and unsuitable food, the lice, and, above all, the plague of flies, with which no sanitary measures and precautions could cope, all were in their degree responsible for the deplorable results. The country was one huge grave-yard in which hundreds of corpses of friends and foes lay unburied, and the air was heavy with the stench. Flies clustered in noisome masses on everything that attracted them, on the food and in the mess-tins as these were carried to one’s mouth, on sores, on faces and hands—blue and green monsters too lazy to fly or crawl away, and to kill fifty was but to invite five thousand to attend the funeral. Under such conditions men lived and moved, and even kept a stout heart. Weak and emaciated, they crawled about the trenches, but when work or fighting was to be done they never shirked, and did not give in until compelled to do so. They had by now absorbed some measure of the philosophy of the East, and, borrowing a phrase from the enemy when things seemed at their worst, they encouraged one another with the remark: “Never mind; there’s always to-morrow.” In these days the small “band of brothers” who had come safely through the fighting were drawn closely together, and the rest of the world seemed very remote. The personal inspiration of certain officers and men counted for much, and the memory of the example of zeal and energy and good courage when the prospect was most dreary, set by officers of the Indian Army, in temporary command of units that had lost their senior officers, is gratefully preserved by those who survived. Many officers who left England with the Division gained in no ordinary degree the admiration and affection of their comrades, but the name of Philip Vernon Holberton stands out pre-eminently. His repeated acts of gallantry, his constant thought for others and entire disregard of self, his genial presence and cheery words of encouragement when these were most needed, stimulated weary comrades to carry on hopefully, and made him an inspiration to officers and men alike.[5]

The amalgamation of battalions was put off as long as possible, but later, in October, there was no alternative. The 5th and 8th Lancashire Fusiliers were then combined under Lieut.-Colonel F. W. Woodcock, and the 6th and 7th under Major Alexander; the 5th and 6th Manchesters under Lieut.-Colonel C. R. Pilkington (Lieut.-Colonel Darlington having been evacuated with fever), and the 4th East Lancashires and 9th Manchesters were split up among other battalions.

ENTRANCE TO GULLY RAVINE AT GULLY BEACH.

GULLY RAVINE. HEADQUARTERS OF SIGNAL CO. AND 2ND FIELD CO. R.E.

New Ground

In the new area, which had previously been held by the 29th Division, now at Suvla, there were many changes, on the whole for the better. The men were not sorry to see the last of Krithia and Achi Baba Nullahs, of the Vineyard and other scenes of carnage. Yet the names conjure up other memories, not wholly painful—of heroic attempt and gallant performance, of courage, self-sacrifice, and devotion to duty unsurpassed in any theatre of war, of cheerfulness in adversity, of enduring friendships, of doggedness and determination, of great pride in the comrades who had fallen, whose graves, marked by biscuit-box crosses, lay thick in the Krithia Nullah beyond Clapham Junction. The Eski, Australian and Redoubt Lines, Wigan, Stretford, and Oldham Roads, Burlington Street, Greenheys Lane, Ardwick Green, Clapham Junction, Cooney’s corner (where it was wise to make good speed), Romani’s Well, which could always be relied upon for a supply of deliciously cool water, the olive-grove beside it, most peaceful and popular of bivouacs—these were seen for the last time, but the memories that cluster about them will never be wiped out. The mention of the names brings back the scene, the sounds, the smells—the gullies thronged with men and animals, the R.A.M.C. carrying the wounded down to the dressing stations, the transport toiling up with rations, the linesmen of the Signal Company coolly and efficiently laying lines and repairing wires under shell and machine-gun fire, the despatch riders driving furiously over ground that no motor-cycle was ever meant to negotiate, those good men of the Zion Mule Corps, the Hindus driving their well-cared for, well-trained and (to them) docile mules, or at rest making chupatties, the smell of wood-fires—and of manure incinerators—the lines of animals, neighing or braying, the dumps, the incessant crack of rifles, and, above all, the flies and the mud.

A new nomenclature had now to be learnt and to be created. Fusilier Bluff, Geoghegan’s Bluff, the Gridiron, the Birdcages, Border, Essex, Hampshire, Lancashire, Douglas, Frith, Ashton, Burnley Streets or Roads soon became familiar signs. The derivation of most of the names is sufficiently obvious, but the “Eski Line” puzzled the men until some genius among them propounded the brilliant theory that “it’s the pet name of one of the Staff-officer’s wives.” As it was understood that he meant “of the wife of one of the Staff-officers,” the illuminating suggestion was adopted as satisfactory, and men were heard to murmur the name Eski ecstatically. Gully Ravine took the place of Krithia Nullah as the main road to the firing-line. The bed of the gully in September and October was deep in loose red sand which made very heavy going for tired troops, but when the mud came one sighed for the vanished sand. The transport was frequently thigh-deep in liquid mud in those evil days. On both sides stretched the horse and mule lines, and stores and dumps were placed at suitable spots. At the last bend of the gully a wag erected a cairn and labelled it Third Tower. This was hailed with delight by parties changing over, as all men who had trained on the Cairo—Suez Road understood that the end of their journey was close at hand. A thirty-yard rifle-range was constructed in the ravine for the training of the reinforcements from the third line, who had had little or no experience of the service rifle, and the modest beginning of a Divisional School came into being in one of the small offshoot gullies where Major Fawcus held his bombing-class.

A “rest” was more of a reality in the new area, and it was comparatively safe, but in Gallipoli the word rest held a very different significance from that attached to it at home. It had now become too closely associated with hard work to be really popular, and the dolce far niente illusion had been quite dispelled. It meant heavy fatigues day and night, much digging, the unloading of lighters and the carrying of heavy loads; but a Beach Fatigue had its compensations, for it was possible at times to get a bathe if one was not too fastidious to object to coal-dust and refuse from lighters, nor to the close companionship of the dead horses and mules that floated around. These were constantly being towed out to sea, but the homing instinct, or the current, brought them back again. “W” Beach even boasted a canteen (run by enterprising Greeks), and men who had time to spare and were possessed of patience might, after waiting for hours in a queue, come back with a bit of chocolate and a tin of fruit—rare and precious luxuries. One day would-be purchasers found the military police in possession. The Greeks had been arrested as spies, and were not seen again. In due course the Division ran its own popular canteen on Gully Beach.

As a rest-bivouac Gully Beach was a great improvement upon all previous resorts, and its attractions read like a holiday advertisement. A sea front, excellent bathing in the Mediterranean, superior accommodation on ledges cut in the cliff face—not unlike a colony of sea-birds—and those who applied early enough even got first-class quarters in a hole in the rock. Inside the ravine, where the bends gave complete protection from shell-fire, caves had been dug in the cliff sides, one above the other up to forty feet, and even more in places, above the bed of the gully. By night the illuminations in these irregular tiers of dug-outs, with the black outline of the cliff-tops beyond the highest tier of lights standing out distinct against the star-lit sky, gave the ravine an effect of glamour and romance—almost of sentimental prettiness—that contrasted strangely with the grim reality of day. “Doesn’t it remind you of Belle Vue?” was a comment frequently made by the men, all of whom were familiar with the chief attraction which Manchester provides for strangers. It was possible to walk upright along the coast road (or Marine Parade) past the little colony of the Greek Labour Corps to Lancashire Landing, but this shore road could not be used for wheeled traffic. The sunsets seen from the beach, or, better still, lying among the heather on the cliffs above, were at times gorgeous. Perhaps it was the peace of twilight, the red sun sinking behind the hills of Imbros or snow-capped Samothrace, that turned one’s thoughts and conversation homewards at the evening gatherings, and sharpened the longing for the good times that must surely be coming. Prime favourite of all items at the jolly sing-songs arranged by the various units was “Keep the Home Fires Burning,” and this was generally kept back for the closing chorus. These entertainments were excellent and they did good. Much hidden genius was brought to light, and a store of original and topical humour tapped.

Gully Ravine

In October a start was made with the construction of winter quarters, in the lower end of the ravine, for the Brigade in reserve, the R.A.M.C., etc. The supply of sandbags had improved and a minute quantity of corrugated iron sheets was rationed out to units.