The Evacuation: from The Story of The Anzacs

Lord Kitchener replied that this was impossible, and asked for information regarding the evacuation of the Peninsula, and the probable number of losses which this would entail. Sir Ian Hamilton replied that evacuation seemed to him to be impossible. On October 16th he was recalled to England, it being stated that a fresh opinion from a responsible commander was required upon the Gallipoli situation.

It was announced on 5th November that Lord Kitchener had left London to carry out an important mission in the East. He subsequently landed at Anzac and the remaining fighting zones, visited the whole of the trenches, regardless of danger, and took a thorough grasp of the positions. On this occasion he stated that no troops that we had ever had in the field had fought with more bravery than the Australian-New Zealand force. 

He had never realised the difficulty of the position until he visited Anzac, where he at once saw that it consisted of a hopelessly unscientific series of trenches, bristling with dangerous salients, and dominated overwhelmingly by the Turkish positions. This condition was not the fault of the Anzac commanders or engineers, it was due entirely to the exigencies of the situation, which set all military precedent at nought. It is quite evident that his visit was a determining factor in the decision for evacuation.

There were other considerations, however, besides the mere difficulty and danger of our position. Bulgaria had by now entered the War, and was endeavouring to force a road to Constantinople for Germany. Greece was undecided, and might at any moment follow her example. It seemed, therefore, likely that the troops on Gallipoli might be employed with greater advantage elsewhere in the eastern area; and a move in this direction had been already made in the beginning of October, when the 10th Division, under Lieutenant-General Sir B. Mahon, K.C.B., was transferred from Suvla to Salonika and concentrated there.

The entry of Bulgaria had a still more direct effect upon the position at Gallipoli, for it enabled supplies, reinforcements, and, most important of all, heavy artillery, to be sent directly thither from Central Europe.

It was soon realised by our Army that heavier guns were now being brought to bear upon them than had been used before in the course of the Campaign; and seeing that the Turks held all the heights, and dominated our positions strategically, the danger from this cause became very great. The troops, moreover, were suffering terribly from the diseases prevalent during the summer in an eastern climate, and hardly a man on the Peninsula was wholly free from the terribly weakening effects of dysentery. 

It seemed certain, too, that no immediate advance was possible in view of the strengthening of the Turkish positions, and of the fact that we could not possibly hope for reinforcements; and it was more than questionable whether continued occupation of the area, even were this possible, would be justifiable once progress was out of the question.

For all these reasons it seemed to Sir Charles Munro, who had now received charge of the forces in the Mediterranean, that evacuation must be attempted, and orders to this effect were issued to General Birdwood, who had taken control of all the Allied forces on the Peninsula.

This decision was precipitated by an unforeseen and very terrible occurrence. From the 26th to the 28th of November a blizzard raged over the Peninsula, beginning with a strong north-easterly wind, which increased in the afternoon of the 26th to a heavy gale accompanied with sleet. The storm grew in fury all through the night, and the cold was cutting and terrible. The water seemed to gather in volume, and poured into the trenches with the force of a mill-race. The Australians and New Zealanders at Anzac probably felt the cold more intensely than any other troops on the Peninsula, but they were in a large measure sheltered both from the gale and the floods by the steep hill sides around them, and therefore had not to bear the brunt of the storm's fury. 

The same was the case at Helles, where the lay of the country saved the British and French troops from the extremity of exposure; but at Suvla, where the country lay perfectly open both to the hate of the foeman and of the sky, the plight of the men was terrible. Every watercourse was swollen to a torrent, every trench became a flooded watercourse. The flood poured down with such incredible speed and fury that in most cases the men had no chance to save themselves, but were caught where they stood and whelmed in the waters. 

Many of them struggled forth, soaked to the skin, and cut to the marrow with the icy cold; but many of the best troops on the Peninsula were drowned where they stood; and by a stroke of the most tragic irony the brunt of the disaster was borne by the heroic 29th Division, which had already suffered so terribly and endured so nobly in the previous fighting. It is hardly to be wondered at that great numbers of the men collapsed beneath this ordeal, and that 200 deaths should have been officially recorded from exposure, while 10,000 sick were re-embarked during the first days of December.

It was not, however, the immediate losses of the troops, though these were terrible enough, which weighed with the authorities in favour of evacuation. Of even more military moment was the damage done by the blizzard to the piers, break-waters and shipping in the harbours of the different fighting zones. It was realised that these tempests would recur throughout the winter and that the damage they would cause might quite conceivably result in the cutting of our already precarious communications. Should this happen, our whole force would, of course, be in the direst straits.

It is easier, however, to plan an evacuation than to effect it. All the lessons of history tend to show that troops cannot be re-embarked from positions threatened b the enemy without hard fighting and heavy losses.

It seemed hardly possible that our forces could be removed without at least incurring the loss sustained at Corunna and Torres Vedras. A distinguished Australian soldier who had returned wounded to Australia before the Evacuation considered that it could not possibly be effected under a loss of 50,000 men, and utterly disbelieved that it would be attempted.

It must be remembered that in the words of Sir Charles Munro, "The problem with which we were confronted was the withdrawal of an army of considerable size from positions in no cases more than 300 yards from the enemy's trenches, and its embarkation on open beaches, every part of which were within effective range of Turkish guns, and from which, in winds from the south or south-west, the withdrawal of troops was not possible." In addition to this, whenever the wind blew from the south or south-west, so heavy a ground-swell arose that re-embarkation would become hopelessly difficult, while if the wind quickened to a gale the difficulty must become disaster.

Sir Charles Munro, therefore, prepared for the worst, and at Suvla ordered that two defensive lines should be drawn up, to be held by the troops on the way to the beaches should fighting become necessary.

At Anzac the narrowness of the area occupied did not permit of such a position being prepared, but a small part of the line in the rear was strongly fortified to protect the troops should a rearguard action be threatened.

It must be remembered that for several months the operations in all the three areas had been almost entirely confined to trench fighting. During the week or two preceding the Evacuation our commanders had ordered that there should be periodical lulls in our firing and that these should be followed by periods of great activity, so that when the final lull came the Turk would not suspect that our efforts were weakening or that anything unusual was pending. 

Yet it seemed almost incredible that we should be able to maintain secrecy about our plans, especially as it was necessary that the majority of our troops should be removed on the days preceding the final evacuation. Neither the time nor the transport service at our disposal would have permitted of all the men being re-embarked in a single night. Moreover, it had been found quite impossible, owing to deficiency in transport, to conduct the three evacuations simultaneously, and the Helles venture had to wait.

The problem of the few days immediately preceding December 18th and 19th at Anzac and Suvla was the converse of that which had been so splendidly solved during the early days of August. Then, it was a question of smuggling an army ashore without the enemy's suspecting its existence; now, our object was to smuggle the army out from shore to ships without allowing the enemy to divine that it had ever left Anzac.

The Evacuation proper occupied five successive nights, during which a great part of the stores, together with 20,000 sick and convalescent, and many of the guns and several hospitals, were removed. Only the very fittest men were now left on shore, and only the minimum of equipment necessary for safety.

During the day-time, certain forces of men were landed in order to baffle the enemy's suspicions, and many of these were taken off again, together with larger numbers, on the succeeding nights. During the night of Saturday more than three-fifths of the total force had been removed from the positions. The horses, motor cars, and the greater number of the field guns had already been transhipped, and the latter had been replaced by bogus guns, which looked impressive upon the emplacements. 

During the daytime the warships and the remaining guns kept up the usual bombardment, and apparently the Turks suspected nothing. Everything now depended upon the weather and the continued preservation of secrecy.

It has been shown that during the early stages of the campaign the Allied forces had all the odds of fortune against them ; but on this occasion it seemed as if their gallantry had won the heart of fortune, for during all the days of the operation the weather remained calm and warm. At one stage it looked as if the wind were freshening from the south, and men's hearts fell; but it died down, and new hope sprang up. Moreover, on that eventful Saturday night the full moon was shrouded in a merciful haze. The stars in their courses seemed to be fighting for us.

At Anzac up till the last few days the hope had been that the Turks would attack, and that we should be able to deliver a staggering blow that would completely cover our embarkation; but now the problem was to get the men away as swiftly and secretly as possible from trenches which were sometimes, as at Quinn's Post, within 10 yards of the foe.

If the Turks had learned how depleted our forces were, they could easily have smashed through our thinly held line at its weakest position, the famous Nek, which was only 900 yards from the jetties of re-embarkation. Subsequently it became imperative to hold them here by a special manceuvre while the troops on the right and left were hurried down to the beaches by the communication trenches. The ships were in position late on Saturday night, and immediately after dark the withdrawal began.

The (Treat warships spoke out, and covered the hill-sides with flame and thunder. The men left in the trenches till the last kept up a continuous firing, and where the trenches had been evacuated, specially prepared guns still played automatically upon the enemy. Gradually the brave defenders grew fewer and fewer. Upon the last party, known as the Die-Hards, devolved the task of hoodwinking the enemy into the belief that the whole army was still there. These consisted of picked men, and were divided into small sections, who were ordered to steal away by degrees during the last hour; but before they left, they treated the Turk to a parting entertainment. 

Our engineers had run two tunnels deep beneath the Turkish trenches opposite Russell's Top, to be used in case of need; into these were now put our whole remaining store of dynamite, amounting to about three tons; our largest previous mine had contained less than five hundredweight. We now fired this charge with overwhelming effect. The explosion shattered the whole of the Turkish trenches at this point. It also rent the whole Nek in pieces and prevented any advance in this quarter. It also caused the Turk to think that we were meditating an attack in force, and he therefore poured his heaviest fire upon our now practically empty trenches.

At 3.35 on Sunday morning a message was received at Headquarters to the effect that the wireless station at Anzac was closed, and that the last party from the left wing was safely in the boats. At 4-15 it was announced that the whole embarkation was complete.

The same secrecy and success attended the operations at Suvla. Here there was heavy bombardment both of the beach, and of Lala Baba, now dismantled of guns which we had placed there after the landing. By platoons the men stole down the communication trenches to the beach in perfect silence and safety. The Highland Mountain Brigade were left at the rear in the post of honour to fight a covering action should this become necessary; but here, as at Anzac, the Turks had suspected nothing, and everything went like clockwork. 

And now occurred one of the most impressive spectacles of the whole campaign. There were a great number of stores, both at Anzac and Suvla, which it had been impossible to remove. It was necessary that these should be prevented from coming to the enemy's hands, and they were, therefore, placed in great heaps along the line of beaches, and were drenched with petrol. At 4 a.m., when the Evacuation was practically complete, these heaps were fired by a party of the Royal Engineers immediately before their departure. 

All along the shore the great flames leapt up in a succession similar to that chain of beacon-fire that had been lit in the twilight of legend on that very beach by Agamemnon to announce to his waiting spouse the fall of Troy. The whole beach was now ablaze with flame and smoke towering up to the heavens. For miles inland the glare lit up the gorse-clad ridges and rocky escarpment. The Turks at first believed that our depot had caught fire by accident and they commenced shelling the flames with all their might. 

The giant bonfires were also bombarded by our own warships, that the work of destruction might be thorough. Amid the conflagration and wild terror of the night tile long miles of beach glowed like the heart of a furnace. This shelling of the same flaming mark by friend and foe was not the least weird incident in all this weird campaign.

In addition to this bombardment the Turks kept up their customary sniping of our lines, and the battery of "Beachy" still thundered occasionally over the deserted beach. At 7 o'clock dawn broke, and the Turks opened a furious bombardment against the whole of our empty lines. A quarter of an hour later, the men on the transports who were watching the Anzac trenches saw the foe leap from their positions and charge over the deserted parapets. Our fleet opened a last bombardment upon the enemy and the deserted stores, and under its cover a picket boat returned to the beach and picked up a few stragglers who had lost their way in the darkness and the maze of trenches.

Shortly after eight, our bombardment ceased and the fleet steamed slowly towards Mudros. Meanwhile at Suvla the Turks had been furiously shelling Lala Baba and Chocolate Hill for some time after the Evacuation. They did not realise the truth until 11 o'clock, when they charged down upon
our positions.

These combined evacuations were effected with the astonishingly light casualty-list of one officer and two men wounded at Suvla, and two men wounded at Anzac. At Suvla "every gun, vehicle and animal was embarked, while at Anzac four 18-pounder guns, two 5in. howitzers, one naval gun, one anti-aircraft, and two 3-pounder Hotchkiss guns were left, but were destroyed before the troops finally embarked. In addition, 56 mules, a certain number of carts, mostly stripped of their wheels, and some supplies which we set on fire, were also abandoned."

We only just got away in time, for on the very night of that quiet morning a fierce southerly gale sprang up which would have made embarkation out of the question. Torrents of rain fell, turning the trenches into sluices and quenching the last remains of the great bonfires. It seems likely that had our troops remained in this part of the Peninsula there would have been a repetition of the ghastly business of November 27th, while if the storm had caught us in the act of embarkation the result must have been failure and unspeakable slaughter.

It was with mixed feelings that the Australasian troops left Anzac, "the friendly little kindly city." They knew, and Australia knew, that the position was probably as unhealthy as any to be found throughout the areas of war. The close concentration of troops in this little semicircle gave ready
scope for the disease inevitable in such a place and season. Anzac was, moreover, dominated over its whole area by the enemy gunfire, which became increasingly heavy and precise after the arrival of the German gunners and the 14in. howitzers. 

Neither sick nor wounded could be removed from the lines or beach to the hospital ships without the likelihood of being struck by shrapnel; and to crown all, some 15,000 had met their deaths in battle at Anzac and had been buried on her hillsides or in her valleys. Yet he Australasian forces, in obedience to that strange law which makes men love the place where they have suffered greatly, left Anzac with a feeling akin to sorrow. For eight months the place had been their home; they had fortified it throughout, dug it all over, and scooped out in its gullies some 30,000 caves for refuge from the torment of battle. 

It was on this plot of ground that they had built up a tradition which gave a new meaning to the name Australia. They had fought against terrible odds and once and again had had victory within their grasp. There were many of them who believed that victory was still within their reach. It was grievous to think that they would leave their dead, the heroes with whom they had toiled and fought, in the hands of the enemy. With these feelings in their minds it is not surprising that the Anzacs received somewhat ruefully the order for withdrawal and that they disputed as to who should have the privilege of staying till the last. 

Many of them actually paraded before their officers to protest against boarding the transports while men who had arrived at the Peninsula after themselves were allowed to stay an hour or two longer. It was but fitting that 200 of those who had been first at the Landing were given the post of honor at the embarkation and were allowed to leave Anzac last.

The feelings of the Turk when he found himself in possession at Anzac have not been so far recorded. If he was able to read English, he must have been impressed by the notes left for him by many of the Anzacs in which they described "Jacky Abdul" as a good fellow and a clean fighter, and recorded their hope that they would meet him again before long; these and the gramophone left blaring out "The Turkish Patrol" at Walker's Ridge may have been some partial compensation for the cunningly set land-mines which were laid for him in certain parts of the trenches, and probably operated with due effect.

It has been contended by German agents in America that the enemy were actually bribed to allow us to depart in peace; this idiot lie implies that the Turks were at once cowardly in the extreme and treacherous beyond belief to their German Allies. It would be interesting to know whether those who make this claim also contend that the explosion at Russell's Top, which resulted in so heavy a loss of Turkish lives, was part of this business transaction. More interesting is the question as to whether the Turks suspected our plan and allowed it to be carried out in comparative quiet in order to avoid fresh loss of life. 

Some contend that this is the fact; yet throughout the operations the Turks had shown no hesitation in attacking us wherever they saw reasonable opportunity, and as it is certain that they did not suspect the existence of the army smuggled into Anzac on August 6th, it is quite reasonable to suppose that we kept them in the same secrecy regarding the troops smuggled out on December 19th. Their action, moreover, in shelling our burning magazines suggests that even after the Evacuation had been completed they were for some hours completely ignorant as to what had happened.

It has been pointed out that owing to insufficiency of transport it was impossible to conduct the evacuation at Helles simultaneously with those at Suvla and Anzac. The chief drawback about this was that the Turks might be expected to anticipate what we intended to do here from what we had already done there. It seemed almost incredible that our troops could be removed in this zone with the former secrecy, speed and safety. It is indeed a fact that the Turk became very much more watchful at Helles, than he had been at Anzac. 

His aerial reconnaissance of our positions, not only on the Peninsula itself but at Imbros and Mudros, became very much more frequent, and the bombardment of his great guns increased in volume, especially on the Asiatic side of the Strait; but he did not seem to have contemplated seriously the likelihood of a second withdrawal being attempted within a few weeks of the first. If he had done so, it is hardly likely that he would have allowed us to get away as easily as we did.

In the last week of December, the French troops at Helles under General Brulard were reduced to 4,000 men, and certain rearrangements were made which resulted in the English lines being held by the 52nd, 11th, and 13th Divisions, with the Royal Naval and the 42nd Division in reserve.

The conduct of the final operations was left to General Birdwood, with instructions to save all the more important guns, howitzers and munitions in so far as this was possible without exposing the troops to undue risk. The General was also allowed discretion regarding his choice of the nig ht of embarkation, this depending almost entirely upon the weather conditions prevalent at the time. In order to avoid the awkwardness of a divided command, the remaining French troops were relieved on the nights of the 1st and 2nd January and taken off by the French Navy.

On the 29th December the 52nd Division completed its brilliant work on the Peninsula by capturing a line of Turkish trenches and holding them against vigorous counter-attacks. It was decided to sacrifice one 6in. British gun and six French heavy guns of the old pattern, as it would be impossible to remove the whole artillery from the position without advertising the Turks of our intention.

Sir Charles Munro, as previously at Suvla and Anzac, had decided against a feint attack similar to those which covered the operations of the 6th August. It was thought that this would rather advise the enemy of our real intentions than distract him from them. The order was, moreover, given that the troops should proceed straight from the front trenches to the boats without occupying any intermediate position.

The final stage of the Evacuation was fixed for the 8th January, or the first fine night after that date. On the 7th January the enemy bombarded our trenches both from the European and the Asiatic side of the Straits with greater intensity than at any time since the first landing, and the Turkish trenches were seen to be full of troops evidently preparing for an attack in force. Only one part of our line, however, Fusilier Bluff, was actually attacked, and the attack was smartly repulsed with small casualties.

On the 8th, the weather was calm and bright, and the Turkish artillery was comparatively quiet. All preparations for departure had been made; but about four in the afternoon the weather changed, and a strong southwesterly wind sprang up which rolled heavy seas against the various bays and beaches, and destroyed the pier at "W" beach, which had connected the hulks and the shore. Yet these difficulties and others were righted and overcome, and "the second trips, which commenced at 11-30 p-m., were carried out well up to time, and the embarkation of guns continued uninterruptedly."

In one respect, moreover, the heavy weather was a blessing in disguise, for it rendered ineffective the efforts of an enemy submarine bound for Mudros, which actually hit H.M.S. " Prince George," containing a freight of 2,000 men, with a torpedo which failed to explode. The presence of such craft, the steadily increasing swell, and the possibility that the Turks might at any moment rush our fast-emptying lines made these hours some of the most anxious that had yet been experienced throughout the campaign.

About 2 o'clock, one of the lighters grounded, and on all accounts it was realised that unless the remainder of the troops were embarked immediately they could hardly hope to leave the Peninsula that night, and would probably be killed or captured at dawn.

At 3.3o a.m., however, the Evacuation had been completed, and such stores and supplies as it was necessary to abandon were set ablaze, as previously, at the northern beaches. Strange though it may seem, the conflagration thus caused appears to have given the Turk his first intimation that we had left the Peninsula. He immediately discharged red lights and opened a heavy artillery fire on the now empty trenches and beaches, which he maintained till 6.30 a.m.

All things considered, the Evacuation at Helles was an even more wonderful piece of work than that in the Northern Zone. Yet both were well nigh miracles; and those miracles had been made possible by human skill, the favour of fortune, and above all, by that unswerving courage and loyalty of all ranks which was the mainstay of the Allied effort throughout the whole campaign.

The Anzacs for the most part found the Turk a brave opponent; his courage was pre-eminently displayed in attack, and here his religious fervour stood him in good stead and hurled him onwards, as on the 18th and 19th May, against positions where he was bound to incur the most terrible slaughter.

Under ordinary conditions a Turk fighting in defence is hardly equalled by any other soldier in the world; but after meeting the Australians on the day of the great Landing; and testing their prowess with the bayonet, the Turk showed the greatest distaste of this arm. However, under the tuition of German gunners he became an adept in the manipulation of machine-guns, and throughout the Campaign he constantly used these with damaging effect against our attack.

Our men in the first stage of the Campaign regarded him with a not unnatural rancour, but by degrees they came to respect him for his great fighting capabilities. The Turk had not committed the atrocities which made the Allied soldiers in Flanders implacable against the German Army. It is true that at first he fired on our Red Cross, but he was here apparently irritated by the symbol and acted rather in a spirit of religious fanaticism than in one of revenge. In the later stages of the Campaign, when he had come to understand what the Red Cross stood for, he carefully respected it.

There were many cases in which he withheld his fire to allow the removal of our wounded. Instances are quoted of the Turks having dressed the wounds of our men, and having sent them back to our lines. In one case it is recorded that a Turk was seen crawling from his trench towards the Anzac lines. That night, certain Australians made their way to this spot and found an Australian with a Turkish blanket over him, a fly-net over his face, Turkish food beside him, and a Turkish bandage on his wounds. Such instances as these saved many Turkish lives, and made war on the Peninsula possible without its usual concomitant of hate.

Our men behaved with corresponding chivalry to the Turks, and during the armistice, and at other times when the operations grew slack, would throw packets of cigarettes and tins of condensed milk into their lines. The Turkish snipers were not unnaturally exempted from this goodwill, but "Achmed," or "Abdul," or "Jacky," as he was indifferently termed, was in the most part dubbed a clean fighter and a decent fellow, and was treated as such.