CHAPTER IV

SARI BAIR

“So desperate a battle cannot be described. The Turks came on again and again, fighting magnificently, calling upon the name of God. Our men stood to it, and maintained, by many a deed of daring, the old traditions of their race. There was no flinching. They died in the ranks where they stood.”

— General Sir Ian Hamilton.

IN order to follow the details of the battle of Sari Bair, it is necessary to understand something of the configuration of the country north-east of Anzac. At Lone Pine and Quinn's Post, the Australians had gained a footing on the southern extremity of the Sari Bair range. Thence it ran, increasing in height as it got further from the sea, for about five miles to the north-east, forming the main watershed of the Gallipoli Peninsula. From its sides started the gullies known as Deres, which were of paramount importance in the course of the fighting. In Spring, they were foaming torrents but, in August, they were bone-dry and formed the only paths in the wilderness by which it was possible to gain the foot of Sari Bair. The country on each side of them was covered by impassable scrub intersected by invisible precipices, but the sandy beds of the Deres afforded smooth, if not easy going. In places they ran through deep ravines but, for the most part, their banks were from four to six feet high and lined with prickly scrub and an occasional barren olive tree. They would have been invaluable as roads, had it not been for the fact that long stretches of them were under constant fire from the Turkish machine guns on Sari Bair, and could therefore only be safely used at night.

The principal gullies beginning from the North were Asmak Dere, Aghyl Dere, Chailak Dere and Sazli Beit Dere. The last of these ran down to what, on the 6th of August, was the Northern extremity of the Anzac position. Between it and Chailak Dere, a spur left the main ridge of Sari Bair and ran down towards the sea: after it came into our hands, this spur was christened Rhododendron Ridge and played an important part in the August fighting. The portion of the Sari Bair range, which was joined by Rhododendron Ridge, was known as the Chunuk Bair and here the battle was to rage most fiercely. It culminated to the northward in a summit called Hill Q, and thence the range trended eastward to Koja Chemen Tepe, the culminating height of the position and the objective of the Suvla force. Half-way down the slope of the Chunuk Bair facing the Gulf of Saros, was a patch of cultivation known as The Farm. The whole of the seaward face of the Chunuk Bair was covered with prickly scrub about four feet high and cut by narrow ravines running down to the Aghyl Dere which starts just below The Farm.

On the night of August 6th, General Godley had launched his attack northward from Anzac. By 1.30 a.m. on the 7th, the mouths of the Chailak Dere and Aghyl Dere had been seized and a strong lodgment made on Damakjelik Bair, a detached hill between the Asm ah and Aghyl Deres. This lodgment protected the left flank of the assault on the Chunuk Bair which was then launched.

By dawn, the left assaulting column had forced its way up the Aghyl Dere, and the Indian Infantry Brigade had occupied The Farm, while on the extreme left the 4th Australian Brigade had reached the Asmak Dere, and were advancing towards Koja Chemen Tepe. The advance of the New Zealanders up the Chailak Dere had been slower but, soon after 6 a.m., they had stormed the Turkish trenches on Rhododendron Ridge, and established themselves at the point where that ridge joins the Chunuk Bair. At the same time, they got into touch with the Indian Brigade on their left. Preparations were made for an assault on the main Chunuk Ridge, but the troops were terribly exhausted by their night marches in an impossible country, and the arrival of Turkish reinforcements made further advance by daylight impossible. It was decided to allow the troops to rest, and attack again just before dawn on the 8th.

For this attack, the New Zealanders, Australians and Indians who had taken part in the first day's fighting were reinforced by six battalions of the 13th Division. On the right, the assault from Rhododendron Ridge on the Chunuk Bair was successful, and a firm footing on the crest was gained; but the centre attack was unable to advance much further than The Farm, and the attempt on Koja Chemen Tepe was unsuccessful. The General resolved to attack again under cover of darkness, and called up the two battalions of the 29th Brigade, which had not already been allotted any duty, to take part in it.

The Hampshires and Royal Irish Rifles had moved at 1 a.m. on the 8th from their bivouacs in Shrapnel Gully, to Rest Gully. This gully was situated near the southern end of the great sap which ran northward from Anzac Beach towards what was known as No. 2 Post. The cove of Anzac itself, between the headlands of Hell Spit and Ari Burnu, though often swept by Turkish fire, was concealed from the enemy's view by overhanging cliffs. To the northward, however, the beach was commanded throughout its length by the heights of the Chunuk Bair, and men moved on it by daylight at their peril. In order to facilitate movement by day, Australians and New Zealanders working by night had dug a sap wide and deep enough to hold a mule, which ran northward parallel with the sea for nearly a mile. This had acquired the name of “The Anzac Sap."

About 10 a.m. on the 8th, the Hampshires and Rifles fell in, and followed Brigade Headquarters along this sap in single file, until they reached its northern end at No. 2 Post. At this point, General Godley had established his headquarters, and here the two battalions collected and waited for the greater part of the day. Late in the afternoon, they again moved northwards, and entered the area which had just been won from the enemy. Here they came under fire from hostile snipers, but worse was to come. They had been ordered to move up the Chailak Dere, but the Turks were well aware that this was one of the few paths by which reinforcements could approach the Chunuk Bair, and were shelling its entrance persistently.

In small parties, the men dashed through the barrage, and in most cases got off without heavy losses. Lieutenant Graham Martyr's platoon of the Irish Rifles, however, was unlucky, and was almost annihilated. Having passed this dangerous spot, the whole long procession moved on in Indian file up the deep bed of the Dere. Progress was slow, since the gully was half choked already with supplies and reforcements going up to the hills, as well as with the wounded coming down. As dusk fell, the two battalions bivouacked on the slopes leading down to the Gully. They did not however have much time for rest, since at 9.15 p.m. they were aroused to take part in the assault on the Chunuk Bair. For this, three columns were being organised, the Rifles and Hampshires being allotted to the centre column, which was under the command of Brigadier- General A. H. Baldwin, who had previously commanded the 38th Brigade. Besides the two 10th Division battalions, General Baldwin had also the 6th East Lancashires and 5th Wiltshires, which belonged to the 13th Division. The column which was to move on the right of the centre column was commanded by Major-General F. E. Johnston, and consisted for the most part of New Zealanders. It was intended to operate from and extend the territory already gained on the Chunuk Bair. To the left, a column under Major-General H. V. Cox, consisting of the 4th Australian Brigade, the Indian Brigade, and four battalions of the 13th Division, was to attack Hill Q. at the northern end of the Chunuk Bair.

General Baldwin's column was entrusted with the task of moving up the Chailak Dere and attacking Hill Q. from the south-west, with its flanks protected by the columns on the right and left. The intention of the Commander-in-Chief had been that this centre column should start from the Chailak Dere and deploy behind the line already occupied by the New Zealanders, moving thence at dawn along the crest of the Chunuk Bair to assault Hill Q. Unfortunately, however, this complicated manoeuvre miscarried, as the guides allotted to the column missed their way, with the result that the troops, after alternately marching and halting all through the night, found themselves at dawn on the 9th in the Aghyl Dere at the foot of the Chunuk. The column on the left had been more fortunate, and its head succeeded in reaching its objective, occupying the col which connects Hill Q. with the Chunuk Bair. Hardly however had the Gurkhas and South Lancashires gazed on the town of Maidos and the Dardanelles crowded with transports bringing up reinforcements for the enemy, when they were shelled off the position, which was promptly re-occupied by the Turks.

Meanwhile General Baldwin's column was closing up and getting into formation for the attack. The men went forward with splendid spirit, but the task they were called on to perform was beyond human power. Not only did the enemy's shrapnel fire redouble its force, but the whole of the left flank was enfiladed by hostile machine-guns, which almost wiped out the East Lancashires. In this advance, many of the officers of the Rifles were wounded. To climb the Chunuk in broad daylight in the face of an enemy well supplied with machine-guns and possessing observation posts from which he could direct the fire of his still unsubdued artillery, was a harder feat than the storming of the breach of a hostile fortress in the Napoleonic wars, since the distance to be covered was so long and so rugged, that it was impossible to maintain the impetus of the charge. An attempt to find easier ground to the left failed, and so the Rifles and Hampshires took up their position behind the crest of a small under-feature which jutted out some three hundred yards from The Farm.

General Baldwin was accompanied to this position by General Cooper and the staff of the 29th Brigade, who, since the whole Brigade had been allotted piecemeal to different Commanders, came up to assist in passing orders. At 9 a.m., a company and a half of the Hampshires under Major Pilleau were ordered to move up the slope to the right and try to get in touch with the New Zealanders of General Johnston's column. While doing so, they came under heavy shrapnel fire, but succeeded in working their way up to that part of the ridge which was in the hands of the New Zealanders.

The position thus gained was maintained throughout the 9th, the Hampshires holding a line down the seaward slopes of the Chunuk Bair, and then turning almost at right angles towards the north-east along the crest of the under-feature above The Farm. The Rifles prolonged this line on the left to a point where it was taken over by the two battalions of the 38th Brigade. This left flank was somewhat in the air, as the flank-guard on the Damakjelik Bair was more than a mile in rear of the line. The only protection to this flank was that afforded by the Left Column under General Cox, which had succeeded in occupying Hill Q. at dawn and had been driven off it. These had now withdrawn to the line of the Asmak Dere, but they were terribly exhausted. The Australians and Indians had been marching and fighting in a tropical climate for forty-eight hours without relief, while the New Army battalions had lost heavily, especially in officers.

Throughout that day, Baldwin's column lay out on the face of the Chunuk Bair. Pinned to their positions by the Turkish shrapnel which hailed on them without respite, they suffered terribly from the scorching rays of the sun. Shade there was none, for the scrub was so prickly that it was impossible to crawl underneath it, while nothing short of direct cover afforded any protection from the sun vertically overhead. Water was terribly scarce; although wells had been discovered in the bed of the Aghyl Dere, it was a task of great difficulty to convey the water up to the troops, since part of the Aghyl Dere was swept by the enemy's fire. The torments of thirst were increased by the fact that the only food available for the men was salt bully beef and hard dry biscuit. It was an effort to swallow more than a few mouthfuls, and to the weakness caused by enteritis was added the weakness of inanition.

The casualties did not appear heavy, but they steadily mounted up, and in the course of the day each of the 29th Brigade battalions lost about a fifth of its strength. Night brought relief from the sun, but no rest, for the battalions were ordered to entrench themselves where they stood. The exhausted men were incapable of heavy labour, but a narrow shallow trench was gradually excavated. Night too gave an opportunity to send the wounded away, for after hasty dressing had been applied by battalion medical officers they had, of necessity, been obliged to await a convenient occasion for their removal. The nearest hospital was four miles away on the shore at Anzac, and a terrible burden thus fell on the stretcher-bearers, who had to carry their comrades all this distance. Every man who could limp or hobble down to the beach, walked, but the serious cases were numerous, and the battalion establishment of stretcher-bearers (which had not been fixed with such an abnormal campaign in view) found itself severely taxed. During the night the New Zealand Brigade on the right of the Hampshires, was withdrawn and relieved by part of the Wiltshires and Loyal North Lancashires, and also by the 6th Leinsters.

Dawn came, and with it the Turkish counterattack. Throughout the night their artillery had thundered unceasingly, but before daybreak it redoubled in violence. As the light grew, an enormous mass of the enemy threw itself against the battalions holding the lodgment effected by the New Zealanders on the crest of the Chunuk Bair, while further hordes moving down from the north and Hill Q. attacked Baldwin's column at The Farm. The two battalions on the crest were almost annihilated, and the ground they held was lost. Fortunately, however, as was described in the last chapter, the momentum of the attack was checked by our artillery.

The Turks moving down the crest of the Chunuk were in full view of the fleet, and the fire brought to bear on them was so terrific that their reinforcements were unable to penetrate the barrage. They pressed on against Rhododendron Ridge, but were stopped by the concentrated fire of ten New Zealand machine-guns which were placed in position by a famous Hythe musketry expert. But although for the time the danger was lessened and the Turkish losses were enormous, yet the fact that the two battalions holding the Ridge of the Chunuk had been driven back, left the right flank of the Hampshires dangerously exposed. Although its losses were very heavy, this company and a half which had been sent out to maintain connection with the ridge succeeded in holding its ground.

The remainder of the Hampshires were now up in the firing line on the right of The Farm position, but were losing very heavily. Colonel Bewsher who commanded them had been seriously wounded in the head about 6 a.m., and was resting before making his way down to the beach when a wounded sergeant-major informed him that there appeared to be no officers left unhurt. He, therefore, wounded as he was, returned to the firing line, and discovered that although there were still two captains with the detached company and a half, the remainder of the battalion had not only lost all its officers but all its company sergeant-majors and quartermaster-sergeants as well. One machine-gun had been put out of action by a shell, but the men were holding their ground manfully.

Meanwhile, on the left, the hostile attack developed with even greater force. Orders had been received to send the 5th Wiltshires to relieve the New Zealanders on the crest of the Chunuk, but one company had been retained as its withdrawal would have left part of the line completely unmanned. A company of the 9th Warwicks had come up to relieve the Wiltshires, but were found to be very weak. There were also on the left in addition to the Royal Irish Rifles, about 50 men, all that remained of the East Lancashires, and a few Ghurkas and Maoris belonging to the left column who had retired down the hill and joined General Baldwin.

Against these few exhausted men, less than a thousand in all, the Turks were free to throw the whole of their reserves, since by this time (dawn, Tuesday) it was clear that the advance from Suvla was not likely to get much further. They came on again and again, covered by a very heavy shrapnel fire, and again and again they were driven back. Our losses, however, were terribly heavy and they could afford to lose ten men to our one, for our last reserves (except for one battalion five miles away) were already up in the firing line. Worst of all were the casualties in officers. The dawn was misty and just as it began to grow light General Baldwin was killed. Almost at the same instant General Cooper fell, severely wounded in the lungs. Colonel Bradford of the Rifles was then the senior officer with the column, but just as he was informed that the command devolved upon him, he, too, fell seriously wounded.

In quick succession. Major Morphy, the second-in-command of the Rifles, received a bad wound in the thigh, and Major Eastwood, their Adjutant, was killed. Very shortly afterwards Captain McCleverty, the Brigade Major, was hit by a bullet which passed through both cheeks and broke his jaw, while Major Wilford of the Rifles, on whom the command of his battalion had devolved and who had exhibited great courage and resource, sustained a severe wound in the head. Colonel Bewsher of the Hampshires, who had been wounded twice but was able to stand, then took over the command of all that was left of General Baldwin's force. The oft -repeated attacks continued, nearly all the junior officers were down, and though our thin line was never actually pierced yet in many places the enemy came so near that they fought with our men at close quarters. In an effort to repulse a rush of this kind on the left about 9 a.m. Captain Gerald Nugent, Staff Captain of the 29th Brigade, fell, revolver in hand, leading his men forward. His death was a sorrow to the whole brigade, for he was a man in a thousand. The surliest cynic who cultivated a grievance against all Staff Officers found himself quite unable to resist Nugent's kindness of heart and wonderful charm of manner. The manner of his death was suited to his bright and unselfish life.

About this time Colonel Bewsher came to the conclusion that the position was untenable. On the right the enemy had reoccupied the crest of the Chunuk Bair and were pressing the Hampshires hard, while on the left General Cox's column had retired to the Damakjelik Bair in rear, leaving the Chunuk completely exposed on that flank. There appeared nothing to prevent the Turks from establishing themselves in the Aghyl Dere and so cutting the only line of communication. The casualties, too, had been terrible. Every staff officer on the hill was either killed or wounded. The Hampshires and Rifles had only four officers left between them and the English companies were in just as bad case. The fight had been raging for over four hours, the men were utterly exhausted, and there was no sign of reinforcements. Colonel Bewsher, therefore, ordered a retirement which was carried out in a regular and orderly manner. This little mixed force, drawn from seven different units, comprising in its number men from Winchester and Salisbury, Birmingham, Burnley and Otago, Belfast and Khatmandu, had held a weak position against enormous odds, with little food and less water, for over 24 hours, and when they retired had hit the enemy so hard that they were not pursued.

Even then they were not disposed of, for at the bottom of the hill a staff officer (Captain Street) who was arranging to send up water and ammunition, called to them to come on again and they responded. The Hampshires on the right under their last officer, the Rifles in the centre, and the Wilts and Warwicks on the left, turned their faces again to the Hill of Death and advanced once more. The effort was futile for by this time the Turkish line was strengthened by machine-guns, but it was heroic, a vindication of the power of the spirit of man to soar above hunger and thirst and the imminent fear of death, and place itself on a level with that of the heroes.

Both battalions had suffered terribly. The Hampshires, who had gone into action on the morning of the 9th, with a strength of approximately twenty officers and over 700 men, had at noon on the 10th one combatant officer (Captain Hellyer) and not more than 200 men fit for duty. A few more who had lost their direction in the retirement re-joined in the course of the following day. The Rifles were in nearly as bad a condition. They were commanded by their junior captain, who had only been promoted to that rank at Mudros, and two subalterns were all the combatant officers that he had under him. The men, too, had been driven back in small parties and had been scattered, and it was clear that neither of the battalions was in a position to fight again for some days. Fortunately for their personal well-being, both of their quarter-masters had survived the fight. Lieutenant Dowling of the Rifles had toiled unceasingly in drawing and attempting to send up rations, water, and above all, ammunition. The Rifles, too, had obtained devoted service from their doctor. Lieutenant Adam, R.A.M.C., who had worked like a hero in dealing with the hundreds of cases that had passed through his hands.

The Hampshires had found their quarter-master a tower of strength. Not only had Lieutenant Saunders worked magnificently throughout the fight, but in the difficult days of reorganisation, he turned his hand to anything and acted as Adjutant and Company Commander and in any other capacity in which he could be of use. In spite of the misfortunes of his battalion he remained cheerful and imperturbable, and it was refreshing to look at his beaming, bearded face. In recognition for the good work he had done he was awarded the Military Cross. A quarter-master is described as a non-combatant officer, and his services are not always fully recognized, but in Gallipoli he was exposed to fully as much danger as anyone else, while the load of responsibility on his shoulders was far greater. Any negligence on his part meant that his battalion would go hungry and thirsty and lack ammunition at a pinch. Soldiers will agree that no man does more important work and better deserves recognition than a good quarter-master.

Meanwhile, the last battalion of the brigade was hurrying towards the scene of action. At 7 a.m. on the morning of the 10th, the Connaught Rangers received orders to prepare to move at once. The detached company, which had been doing fatigue work at Brown's Dip all night, was hastily recalled, and in less than an hour the battalion moved off. It was necessary for them to take a circuitous route to the beach for fear that the Turkish observers on Gaba Tepe should notice that the right of the Anzac position was being weakened. At 9 a.m. Anzac Cove was reached, and the battalion hurried on northwards. As it entered the long sap leading to No. 2 Post, it began to realise the severity of the fighting for the first time, for the sap was full of wounded.

Most of these wounded, too, belonged to the Leinsters, Hampshires, and Irish Rifles, and their number made it clear that the brigade had suffered heavy losses. It was only, however, when checks in the march allowed an opportunity of speaking to the less seriously injured that the full extent of the casualties became clear. The officers of the Rangers heard with growing sorrow that the whole Brigade Staff were either killed or seriously wounded, and that the Rifles and Hampshires had practically ceased to exist. They saw carried past them, with drawn set faces, half masked by dry and clotted blood, men who had worked and played with them at the Curragh and Basingstoke, whose wives and children were their friends. Even in the pale, unwashed, unshaven faces and strained and suffering eyes of the less seriously wounded who paused to speak to them, they read the realisation of the ordeal that lay before them. Behind all was the thought of the friends lying up on the slope of the Chunuk Bair, whose families would never look on them again.

It was an unnerving ordeal for a young regiment, but, fortunately, there was little time for reflection, and the Rangers hurried on. At No. 2 Post, there was a short halt, while Colonel Jourdain interviewed General Birdwood and General Godley, who informed him that the Turks had broken through a section of the line, and that his battalion was placed under the command of General Cox to help him to retrieve matters. He was exhorted to move forward as quickly as possible, as the need for reinforcements was urgent. Accordingly, before the rear of the battalion had extricated itself from the sap, the head was in motion again. It must be borne in mind that except for the brief information which the Colonel had received from General Birdwood, officers and men alike were completely ignorant of the previous operations. They knew nothing of the extension of the Anzac position northward on the night of the 6th, nor of the repeated attacks on the Chunuk Bair; above all, they were unaware that a landing had taken place at Suvla. It was, however, clear to them that they were in new country, for up to No. 2 Post they had moved by well-trodden paths protected at any point of danger by saps and sandbags. Now they were in open country, with the sea on their left, and on the right a range of low foothills, which in places sank sufficiently to enable them to see the ridge of the Chunuk high above them.

Here and there, accoutrements hurriedly cut off a wounded man showed that Turkish shrapnel and snipers had to be reckoned with, but there appeared to be a momentary lull in the fighting. Past the mouth of the Chailak Dere the Rangers hurried in single file sweating under the pitiless sun past Bauchop's Hill, and over a low neck into the Aghyl/Dere. Here, again, their progress grew slower, for the gully was narrow and filled with wounded and mules and resting Ghurkas. It was stiflingly hot, and the smell of the mules and the dust, shut in tightly between the high scrub-fringed banks of the gully, were almost unendurable. The Rangers moved forward for a hundred yards at a time, until at 11.15 a.m. General Cox's headquarters were reached.

The halt there was a brief one for the Rangers were at once directed to place themselves under the orders of Brigadier-General W. de S. Cayley commanding the 39th Brigade, for the purpose of reinforcing his line. Below General Cox's headquarters, the Aghyl Dere forked into two branches, one coming from the Damakjelik Bair, the other, the southern branch, from the foot of the Chunuk. Along this southern branch the Rangers went in single file for about four hundred yards, passing an extemporised dressing station crowded with Ghurkas in slouch hats, and broad, baggy shorts, until they reached a point where a spur ran down from the Damakjelik Bair and gave a certain amount of protection against rifle fire from the Chunuk. Here, General Cayley had established his headquarters in the narrow protected area; in rear of it were crowded all that remained of three or four English battalions. Above, the crest was lined by Sikhs. Into this zone of safety the Rangers hurried, and after forming up, lay down to rest while their Colonel went to General Cayley for orders. The General was established in an observatory of boughs, which gave some shelter from the view of snipers on the Chunuk, and after giving Colonel Jourdain and the officers who accompanied him a very welcome cup of tea, he proceeded to explain the situation.

Although General Baldwin's column had been driven from The Farm position, yet, apparently, it had not yet been occupied by the Turks. It was believed that they were greatly exhausted and had been much discouraged by the heavy losses inflicted on them by our artillery, and it was considered that it might be possible to re-occupy The Farm position. Accordingly ‘A’ and ‘B’ Companies of the Connaught Rangers were ordered to advance up the Aghyl Dere, climb the slopes of the Chunuk Bair as far as The Farm, and occupy the position, which was reported to have been partly entrenched. The men were much exhausted, since they had marched about seven miles in the noon day heat without regular halts.

They were allowed an hour's rest, and endeavours were made to fill their water-bottles, but very little water was obtainable, as the allowance at Anzac had been reduced to a pint a day per man. Extra ammunition was given out, and sandbags and entrenching tools were carried by the men. About two in the afternoon, ‘B’ Company, who were to keep The Farm on their right hand, led off into the scrub on the left of the gully, ‘A’ Company followed them, and for about two hundred yards were able to work along the bed of the Dere itself, crouching under the high bank to avoid the bullets which whistled overhead.

Although the main body of the enemy had retired behind the main crest of the Chunuk Bair, yet they had pushed forward snipers and machine-guns in sufficient numbers to render the advance of the two companies a decidedly unpleasant proceeding. A sudden turn in the direction of the gully brought the commander of ‘A' Company, who was at the head of his column, face to face with a long bare stretch of sand running for three hundred yards straight in the direction of the Chunuk Bair, which was filled with corpses and with the equipment that showed where a wounded man had fallen. Instinctively, he ran forward as the bullets began to throw up the sand all round him, and was followed by his signallers and observers and the men of the leading section. For about fifty yards they ran on until they reached a spot where a cross gully, running down from Rhododendron Ridge, afforded some protection from the pitiless machine-gun fire, but in that fifty yards half of the dozen men had fallen. Accordingly, the subaltern of the leading platoon was sent back to warn the remainder of the company, not to attempt to use the Dere, but to work their way through the scrub on its right. He ran the gauntlet successfully and the advance continued slowly.

Unfortunately, it had been impossible to give the men any definite objective, as from below The Farm was invisible, and many of them lost their way in the thick undergrowth, but about a platoon and a half of each company found its way through the bushes fringing the Aghyl Dere and commenced the ascent of the Chunuk Bair. Once they began to climb, they were comparatively free from the attentions of the snipers and machine-guns, since the lower slopes of the hill were dead ground, but the climb itself was almost intolerable. The ascent was extremely steep, and covered in scrub, in which lurked enormous boulders.

The sun was still tropical, and the men, most of whom carried picks or shovels, as well as their weapons, were heavily laden. Often a man was obliged to lay down his rifle to haul himself up a rock, and found it an almost intolerable burden to have to take it up again. It was only by halting and resting every ten minutes that it was possible to make any progress. The officers, who did not know that they might not find the whole position in the hands of the Turks, did their utmost to retain in the men a sufficient reserve of energy to enable them to charge if it proved necessary. As The Farm came in sight three hundred yards ahead, an irregular extension was formed on the hillside, and the two companies got into touch again. ‘B’ on the left, ‘A’ on the right, pressed forward to reach their objective. It was unoccupied.

Unoccupied by the Turks, indeed, yet there were many relics of the struggle that had been waged there at dawn. A narrow ditch hardly a foot deep showed where an attempt had been made to entrench the position, while scattered round it were sandbags and entrenching tools, rifles and bandoliers of ammunition in a confusion so unnatural that it seemed horrible. Normally, such things are carefully stored and arranged, and even more carefully accounted for, and to see them thrown broadcast about a bare hillside was desolate indeed.

Among them lay the men who had used them; some groaning for water, while others, under the influence of the scorching sunshine, had already begun to give forth the unspeakably foul sweet odour of corruption that in those August days tainted half the hills and valleys of Gallipoli. The sight was depressing enough, but at least the enemy were not there, and the men would be able to rest before they had to fight.

As the senior officer on the position was congratulating himself on this, a concealed machine-gun opened on the right about two hundred yards away. The right flank of ‘A’ Company was in full view of it, and both Captain Massy, who commanded there, and a subaltern with him were wounded. Captain Massy, however, remained calm, and after binding up his comrade's wounds as neatly as a man with a bullet hole through his right arm was able to, he withdrew his men to join the remainder of the company on the left. These were screened from the direct view of the hostile machine-gunners by bushes, but the gun was firing at every sound, which made movement, and still more digging, impossible. Gradually, however, sandbags were filled, and a traverse made of them, which protected the men as long as they lay still. A few picked shots were detailed to fire at intervals into the bushes where the invisible machine-gun appeared to be, and the knowledge that they were retaliating encouraged them greatly. Further comfort was given by the capture of a Turkish sniper, who had been found lurking in the bushes behind us. None of the men had ever seen a Turk before, and the general curiosity as to his appearance served to distract the men’s minds from their immediate prospects.

These, as they presented themselves to the officer who found himself temporarily in command, were by no means cheerful. The trench which the men were supposed to hold would require at least six hours' work before it would give decent protection from shrapnel. It was also badly sited and only gave a field of fire of a few yards. The men available for work on it were few in number and very weary. There was sufficient food and plenty of ammunition, but water was very scarce, for those who possessed sufficient self-control to refrain from drinking during the weary climb, had been unable to resist the entreaties of the wounded, and had allowed them to empty their water-bottles.

The only road by which supplies of any kind could be obtained was the Aghyl Dere, which was swept by the enemy's fire. In addition, it was also known that very few reinforcements were obtainable. Finally, both flanks of the position were "in the air," the right being already dominated by a hostile machine-gun, which was placed so as to enfilade the line. It was clear that if, after dark, the Turks were to attack, the detachment would be in a hopeless position, and were bound to be either captured or destroyed. However, orders had been given that the line was to be held, and there was nothing to be done but obey them. The men were, therefore, instructed to rest until darkness made it possible for them to improve their position, and all ranks lay down and awaited the enemy's attack.

Before it developed, however, General Cayley sent orders that the detachment was to withdraw at dusk, bringing with it all the wounded who were lying on the face of the hill. Major Money, of ‘B’ Company, who had now taken over the command, at once detailed a party under Lieutenant Blake to cover the withdrawal, and as it was within an hour of sunset, began to collect the wounded at once. These for the most part belonged to the East Lancashire and Wiltshire Regiments, with a few of the Royal Irish Rifles. They had lain out from dawn to dusk under the burning rays of the Mediterranean sun without food, water, or attention, and suffering agonies.

By the time they had been collected, the sun was setting, and the pilgrimage of pain began. There were no stretchers, nor were even waterproof sheets available, so that each wounded man had to be carried by his shoulders and legs. The mountain was pathless, and in the growing darkness the bearers made many a false step, which must have caused torture to the sufferers. Some shrieked with pain, others showered blessings on the heads of the men who were saving them from an agonising death by thirst, and in the growing dusk, the load of misery was slowly carried to the foot of the hill. To the credit of the Turkish machine-gunners it must be said that they made no attempt to fire as soon as they perceived that wounded were being removed.

On this, as on other occasions in Gallipoli, we were glad to be able to respect the chivalry of our foes. An attempt was made to bring down some of the rifles and equipment that were scattered over the face of the Chunuk Bair, but there were hardly enough men to carry them, and some had to be abandoned. It was after 7 p.m. before the covering party withdrew, being the last British troops to occupy the Chunuk Bair. Among them was Captain Massy, who, ignoring his wound, had insisted on remaining till all the wounded had been removed. For his gallantry on this occasion he was awarded the Military Cross.

It was dark before the Aghyl Dere was reached, and the Rangers were glad to find that the two remaining companies of their battalion had been employed in entrenching a line on each side of the gully and making sand-bag traverses on each side of it. All the wounded who had fallen in the earlier fighting had been dressed and removed. This was a feat requiring extraordinary courage and endurance on the part of the battalion stretcher-bearers. They had been obliged to go into the exposed section of the Agyhl Dere under a storm of bullets, in order to bring out the wounded, and yet they not only did so, but often dressed the man's wounds under fire before they removed him. Then after the Medical Officer had treated him they had to bear their heavy burden all the way to the beach, returning only to plunge into the fire-swept zone again and rescue another comrade.

There were no men in the force who did their duty more strenuously and fearlessly than the stretcher-bearers of the 5th Connaught Rangers on the 10th of August, 1915, and officers who had grumbled at having to allot some of their best and strongest men for non-combatant duties realized how well it was that they had done so. Nor must the part played by the medical officer be forgotten. Lieutenant J. I. O'Sullivan, Royal Army Medical Corps, found himself confronted by the debris of two brigades, but he rose to the occasion magnificently. Unpacking his paniers under a bush just behind the line, he not only worked on till long after dark without a rest, but remained cheerful and encouraging through it all. Only those who passed through his hands know what they owe to him.

So at sunset on August 10th ended the Battle of Sari Bair, which had begun on the night of the 6th. It had been hard fighting, and Mr. Ashmead Bartlett, the newspaper correspondent, has described it as the hardest battle in which British soldiers have been engaged since Inkerman. Those who took part in it, however, prefer to think of General Godley's restrained but deeply significant testimony: —

“I do not believe that any troops in the world could have accomplished more. All ranks vied with one another in the performance of gallant deeds, and more than worthily upheld the best traditions of the British Army.”

Source: The Tenth (Irish) Division at Gallipoli by Major Bryan Cooper, 1917.