Chapter 5

Along the water's edge there was now a mass of dead men, on the sand a mixture of dead and weltering wounded, while a fair number had reached the sandbank just beyond, where, under an enfilading fire from the rock, they scraped themselves into the recesses. Boats from the other ships were being towed in in threes by pinnaces, till close to the beach when the pinnaces wheeled about, and for the last short distance they had to trust to their oars. Those landing to our right and left as they came in from the other ships were faring no better than those from the "Clyde". One boat half-way to the rock, and which had been left stranded, had three men caught in the festooned rope that runs round the gunwale. Into this they had dived, probably as the boat heeled over to that side and the rope had floated outwards, and there they swung for the rest of the day, two not moving a muscle and evidently dead, but for long I could see the other poor fellow stretch out his arms time after time, but before evening he too was still.

They still kept splashing on between the boats and the sand, dived forward and fell dead at once, or were drowned, till at last it was seen that it was useless to continue such slaughter to no purpose, and the landing at this point had to be given up for the time being.

After the hellish morning we had had, the afternoon thus became comparatively quiet. Those who were still unwounded made for the ruins of the round tower of the fort, slightly to our right. Round this pile of stones they peered, looking for the Turk, who was always found, but here there were but few shots exchanged, as the Turks advanced our men made a rush backwards, or to the sands below, in time to prowl forward once more to have another look, and make the same rush back.

Then came night with its full moon. An attempt was made to land more men about 8 o'clock. These were fired on and again we had to desist.

About 8.30 an officer on shore made a dash for our ship, and on describing the terrible condition and suffering of the wounded who had been in the sandbank for about fourteen hours, I decided to go to their assistance. We had previously been officially warned that it would be impossible for any of the Ambulance to land before morning, but heedless of this I set off alone over the barges and splashed through the remaining few yards of water. Here most of those still alive were wounded more or less severely, and I set to work on them, removing many useless and harmful tourniquets for one thing, and worked my way to the left towards the high rocks where the snipers still were. All the wounded on this side I attended to, an officer accompanying me all the time. I then went to the other side, and after seeing to all in the sand my companion left me, and I next went to a long, low rock which projected into the water for about 20 yards a short way to the right of the "Clyde". Here the dead and wounded were heaped together two and three deep, and it was among these I had my hardest work. All had to be disentangled single-handed from their uncomfortable positions, some lying with head and shoulders in the tideless water, with broken legs in some cases dangling on a higher level.

At the very point of this rock, which had been a favourite spot for the boats to steer to, there was a solid mass of dead and wounded mixed up together. The whole of these I saw to, although by this time there was little I could do except lift and pull them into more comfortable positions, but I was able to do something for every one of them. My last piece of work was to look after six men who were groaning in a boat stranded close to the point of the rock. Three lay on each side with their legs inwards; a plank ran the whole length of the middle of the boat, and along this as it rested on their legs, men had been running during the landing. Getting on this plank some of them howled in agony and beseeched me to get off. I then got into the water and as I could do nothing more for them, my dressings being finished some time before, I gave each a dose of morphia by the mouth.

I had just finished and was standing waist-deep in the water when the Turkish counter-attack commenced with a volley from the distant end of the fort, not over 300 yards off. The only person the Turk could see was myself, the sandbank protecting the others from view, and at least seven or eight bullets spluttered round me in the water. I had been well warned that this counter-attack would take place at any moment, but I never gave it a single thought. It was in anticipation of this that the others clung to the shelter of the sandbank and I was left to work alone. I immediately splashed for a small boat that formed the end of one of the gangways, and into this I hauled myself. On looking at my watch I found it was just midnight, and that I had thus been at work for three and a half hours.

Midnight had evidently been chosen by the Turk as the hour at which to attack, and also by us to make another attempt to land men. At this moment a body of our men were coming along the gangway, the first of them being close to this boat which was on a slightly lower level than the barges that formed the bulk of the gangway. The five foremost threw themselves into my boat and we lay stretched across the seats, the men on the barges lying down at once where they were. Here none of us had any protection, and it was a miracle any one of us escaped, the fire from machine-guns and rifles was so terrific. Each bullet as it struck the "Clyde" drove sparks, while the old ship was ringing like a great bell. Two of our six were hit, the man stretched alongside me fatally. A seventh man in the water hauled himself in beside us, and as he was getting over the gunwale shouted, "Oh! I am hit". Hit or not hit we could not pay the slightest attention to each other now, all we could do was to lie low.

All this time I was expecting a rush for the "Clyde" by the Turks, and the boat I was in would be the first part of the gangway they would reach, and I could not help wondering what it would be like to get a bayonet through my stomach, but the feeling that this would certainly happen was not half so terrible as I should have expected. I had my revolver in my hand all the time, and it was a comfort to think that I would almost certainly account for two or three Turks before I experienced this new sensation.

The fire was kept up for about four hours, mainly on the side of the ship. As soon as there was a lull an officer in my boat shouted out. "This won't do, we must now land, follow me." He got up and splashed ashore, but the men, thinking he had been too hasty, preferred to wait a little longer after the Turks had ceased fire, but soon they began to move and dash singly for the land. I wished to get on the ship, and not half liking to get into an upright position either, I crept through and over those still on the barges, amidst much cursing from my paining the wounded, who must have been numerous.

I had had a strenuous and exciting day and night, and I must say I felt it a relief when I hopped through the nearest hole in the "Clyde". It was now 4 o'clock, and I shivered with cold. I had been soaked over the head, and lying four hours in the open boat in a cold night it was impossible to keep warm. A big, black cloud had floated up over the moon, and we had a fairly sharp but short shower of rain. By this time the moon was nearing the horizon, and it was when another cloud came over her face that I succeeded in reaching the ship.

I found they had had a fairly trying time here too, although the ship's plates were thick enough to resist bullets. The noise of 100,000 bullets showering on the sides of the "Clyde" had caused a deafening din, and many had the wind up badly, not knowing what was going on outside.

The behaviour of the "River Clyde" had been a great puzzle to the Turks. She was not long aground when the guns on Kum Kale, across the Dardanelles, opened on us, and this fire was kept up the whole day--on us and us only as far as I could make out. It took them some time to get our range, and for a considerable time we were not hit, all the shells being shorts or overs. At last they got us, the first shell that hit going through our hold at an angle of 45 degrees, coming through the deck over our heads, and going out at the junction of the floor and side wall. In its course it struck a man on the head, this being splashed all through the hold. Another man squatting on the floor was hit about the middle of both thighs, one leg being completely severed, while the other hung by a tiny shred of skin only. He fell back with a howl with both stumps in the air.

In five minutes a second shell entered our hold, wounding two or three where we were, mostly by the buckling of the floor plates, then passing down below to the lowest hold where many men were sheltering under the water line. Here six or seven were laid out.

After this we had many narrow escapes, but I believe only two other shells actually struck the ship that day. By good luck none exploded in their passage through, otherwise the casualty list would have been very heavy. Many had been hit and killed on deck by machine-gun bullets, and many bullets had found their way through the small openings cut for working the twelve machine-guns that were placed there.

(I have the kind permission of the author, a scholarly and much-respected member of our Corps, to insert the following poem which appeared in "The British Weekly" and one of the Aberdeen papers.)

THE FACE OF DEATH.

(_Dedicated to Lieutenant George Davidson._)

We shall not be the men we were before, No, never while we draw this mortal breath: For we have probed existence to the core, And looked upon the very Face of Death.

Upon our famous collier, "River Clyde," We sat as men who wait the summons dread. Brave soldiers fell, defenceless, at our side, We, too, might soon be numbered with the dead.

With fateful frequency the shells did burst Around and near the members of our Corps: Within our hearts we asked, "Who'll be the first To converse with his comrades never more?"

O never, never from our memory's page Shall be erased these moments of despair: An hour seemed an interminable age, But, in His mercy, God our lives did spare.

We care not what the worldly wise may say, We owe deliverance to the God of Heaven, Whose Power Omnipotent the worlds obey, 'Gainst whose decrees mankind in vain hath striven.

Had He but chosen that our hour had come, No scheming had availed our lives to save: 'Twas not the hour to call our spirits home, The Lord must take, as 'twas the Lord that gave.

And not in vain were we to death brought nigh, For He whose presence came our hearts so near Hath taught us we can ne'er His Will defy, But evermore should live in reverent Fear.

And men have scaled the sacred slopes of Prayer Who ne'er before aspired to heights above: And find the Universe divinely fair Because 'tis governed by a Heart of Love.

GEORGE STEPHEN.

89TH FIELD AMBULANCE, R.A.M.C., GALLIPOLI, _24th May, 1915_.

(The following is taken from my diary and dated August 3, 1916, just after we had landed in the Ypres salient to which the remains of our Division went after being wiped out in the great Somme fight the previous month:--

"I have to-day received a copy of the Aberdeen 'Free Press,' dated July 28, where there is an article on Gallipoli by one of our transport men, G. Burnett, who is now a lieutenant in the Scottish Horse. It runs: 'It is scarcely fair to single out officers and men who did gallant service that first week, but I feel that I ought to mention the names of Lieutenant George Davidson, and Private Gavin Greig. Lieutenant (now Captain) Davidson gained the D.S.O. while Greig was promoted sergeant shortly afterwards. We were told that Lieutenant Davidson led a bayonet charge, but he certainly did go into Sedd-el-Bahr, revolver in hand, to look for curios when there was yet great danger from snipers. And he used to go up towards the Turkish trenches, gathering flowers which he would show us on his return. Every man of us would have followed him anywhere. I recollect going out to help the bearers to take in some wounded, when the party of which I formed a member fell in with Lieutenant Davidson. "Oh," he said, "would you men like to look for wounded on the hill-side?" "Yes," we answered. "Well, follow me," and we did until an officer forbade us to go any further.'"

The D.S.O. never materialized. I am assured a Cairo paper announced that it did, and I was often congratulated on the honour. But, as Artemus Ward would say, "Please, Mr. Printer, put a few asterisks here".)

_April 28th._--Yesterday was spent dodging shells, with a short advance in the evening, and I had not time to write up my diary. At the present moment I am out reconnoitring alone, my post being the top of the high cliff west of our landing place, where the snipers gave us so much trouble, and I sit on the slope of the two gun battery which has its big Krupp guns dismantled, the result of the naval battering a few weeks ago.

A great advance on Krithia has begun, the various combatant units having already moved off, or are busily preparing. Those already over the ridges near the south point of the peninsula are having the attentions of the Krithia guns, a constant stream of shells coming from there. Many are also landing about our beach where the enemy knows large bodies of troops are still landing. All our sea monsters are busy off the whole point of Gallipoli, so far up the Dardanelles, and round the west coast. The air vibrates, and the roaring echoes all round never cease. And over all is a brilliant, scorching sun, the air otherwise a dead calm, and not a ripple on the Aegean. In spite of this calm a terrific day is in progress for the Turk and us, but we hope to make a great advance before night towards the capture of the forts at the Narrows. All round where I sit the ground is ploughed up with great holes, some beside this battery the largest of any, big enough to completely hide a horse and cart. Pieces of shell of several hundredweight lie about. The precision of our gunfire has to be seen otherwise one could not believe how accurately they can hit a small object miles off. The very birds have got accustomed to the din, and on the face of the rocks where I sit is a pair of exquisite birds--probably jays--flitting about as though nothing unusual was going on. The variety of birds is not great, but all are new to me and have interested me greatly, so also have the flowers, which are very fine. I was specially taken with a big light purple rock rose, nearly three inches across, and in great abundance.

From this place of vantage I have watched our beach for some time, but as our services are not likely to be much needed here I must return to our Ambulance which lies to the east of the rock, and we must follow our Brigade (86) shortly.... Back and seated here again. The van of the Munsters arrived at this spot before I left, and dodged and ducked at every shell. On Sunday and Monday they had 286 casualties, including most of their officers. They still stream past just behind me, with the Lancs. and others. The Lancs. had suffered very badly at W. Beach, while the Dublins lost 550, with twenty officers out of twenty-three. Four Dublin officers sat at my table on the "Ausonia"--two are dead, the other two wounded.

_April 29th._--I had no time to finish my account of the day's doings yesterday. It was too soon for our Ambulance to go out so I spent part of the forenoon at the General's Observation Hill with General Reeks, who was afterwards joined by General Hunter-Weston. By way of excuse for being there I was waiting to see how our attack on the Turks was getting on to see when I could get off with my bearers. The A.D.M.S. Colonel Yarr, was also present. By 5 a.m. the attack had stretched right across the peninsula, the French on our extreme right, next the Hants and Lancs., with Munsters and Dublins on the left. A furious cannonade went on for many hours, we advancing slowly till we were near the foot of Achi Baba, when the Hants ran short of ammunition and had to retreat, the French of course retiring also. Things were really looking bad for a time, and rumours of defeat were soon afloat. Ammunition at last coming up, we could get on, but during the retreat which had to be carried out over an open piece of ground, the want of shelter was the cause of very heavy casualties.

By 1 p.m. wounded began to pour past our camp from the 88th Brigade, and, although it was not our Brigade, I went up to their front with all the bearers, Morris remaining behind. We were able to do a lot of work, collecting the wounded beside a water supply, nearly two miles from where we started. After a time I left the men where they had plenty of work, and went forward by myself for some distance, past the "Five Towers," meeting scores of walking cases and assisting where I could. Shells, especially from the Asiatic side, were numerous, three big ones bursting quite near me. After a time I ordered the men to load their stretchers and had some trouble with a General who insisted on our remaining, but about this time we were to go out to our own Brigade, and I marched them off all fully loaded. Things were not looking too well and the General wished to get the wounded collected as quickly as possible. But we had to go, we had been ordered to a point further to the left "about 4 o'clock".

The A.D.M.S. had seen Morris and suggested that I should not go out again, so I remained behind and formed a Divisional Collecting Station for all cases that passed the lighthouse. Morris now went out with his men, mine remaining to assist me. We soon had several hundreds through our hands, largely stretcher cases which we arranged in rows in front of the ruins of the lighthouse, till we had more than we could do with, and soon had to forward most of our cases to W. Beach. At midnight we still retained about thirty-five cases, and all had to be nursed and protected from the bitterly cold wind and rain as best we could. The men willingly parted with their own coats and ground sheets, and some even their tunics. We all spent a most miserable night, and I never all my life felt the cold so acutely. But by morning, in spite of this, most of the wounded had recovered from the initial shock and were much brighter, and we had them forwarded to the 88th H.Q.

The chief reason for our not retaining over night a much larger number was that most hopeless accounts of the battle were being received from the wounded, that all our line was in retreat and that before morning we would be forced back to the sea, if not to our boats. I called for volunteers, at the suggestion of Major Bell, to go out and assist, and a number went off at once with their stretchers and did yeoman service, some not returning till 3 a.m. The Turks had been mutilating the wounded--at least so it was said--and we were anxious none should again fall into their hands.

Through the night firing was heard a very short distance off, but this was only from a few snipers who had somehow got through our lines.

By daylight the weather got warmer, and except for naval firing the 29th was a day of rest. Whyte had been detached from the stretcher-bearers before the landing and was in the tent-subdivision that landed at W. Beach. He wished to have a little more excitement and he and I exchanged places, I now joining Thomson at W. Beach. Thomson, Whyte, and their nineteen men had done much work at the landing and had a very hot time. After four days and nights of hard work, although I could not say I was tired, I felt that a rest might be advisable, but the thought of leaving the bearers, even for a day or two, was depressing.

_April 30th._--A slack day in a way, although I have been on my feet since early morning. A great number of shells have landed near our camp at W. Beach at various times to-day, coming from Krithia or Achi Baba. It is strange how many shells may land in the midst of closely packed men and horses and little or no damage be done--but there are exceptions.

In the afternoon a hostile aeroplane flew over us--not the first time--which dropped three bombs at an anchored balloon we have floating just off the coast. It missed and received a fierce cannonade from a number of warships but escaped, apparently untouched, and was able to report to the Turks that our landing places would make a splendid target, and the firing, which had been fitful before, now became continuous for a time. One man only was hit. About 12 yards from the opening of my dugout one plunged into the ground with a terrific crash. Thomson and I reconnoitred for a mile or so to the north to view a spot to which we had been ordered to shift our camp, probably to-morrow.

Last night, not being altogether in the open, I expected a comfortable night, but it was intensely cold, as the nights here always are, the very hot days making the cold noticeable. By day the sun is always scorching hot, and I am absolutely nut-brown and my nose painfully burned.

On all sides I still hear of fresh casualties. The battalions I have been connected with have been nearly wiped out--the Munsters and half the Dublins at V. Beach, the Lancs. and the other half of the Dublins at W. Beach, and the Royals at X. Beach. Our total casualties are put at over 4000. We must have reinforcements before we can do much more, and within the next two days 20,000 are expected from Egypt.

Last night when some one shot a dog at Sedd-el-Bahr the French thought the Turks were on them and they opened fire on their own men, several being killed and wounded.

_May 1st._--More or less idle all day, all resting before the proposed attack on Achi Baba. In the afternoon we had a visit from an enemy aeroplane again, which dropped a bomb 40 yards from my "funk hole," and 4 yards from what had been taken for a pile of ammunition boxes but was really provisions--only damage, a big hole and a vile smell.

_May 2nd._--Very fierce fighting all last night and the whole of to-day on the south slopes and ridges of Achi Baba, the Turks first charging and repulsing the French, Munsters, and Lancs. The firing from the sea, the French 75's and our 60-pounders was incessant, especially during the night. The Turks were finally driven back, but Krithia and the hills are still in their hands. I spent most of the night watching the progress of events, while the bearers, to whom I am unfortunately not attached to-day, were out at 1 a.m. Our casualties are not excessive considering the nature of the fight, while the Turks are said to have lost thousands from our artillery fire. Getting impatient at being out of it I succeeded in getting eight of the tent-subdivision out as bearers at 1 p.m. and I visited a good deal of the battlefield, as far as our reserve, where I found the Indians waiting for night duty and a likely attack from the Turks, or, as is half expected, we may offer a vigorous offensive.

Yesterday V. and W. Beaches had a hot attack by shell fire from the Asiatic, Krithia, and Achi Baba guns, about fifty shells landing in W. where our Ambulance has now formed its base. The damage done was slight. Two shells in quick succession exploded exactly over the heads of Thomson and myself when we were crossing the beach, both times something hitting me about the shoulders. These shrapnel shells are doing little harm, I had likely been hit by pieces of the material (a resin) in which the bullets are embedded. The smell was the worst of them.