Captain Charles Calveley Foss, D.S.O., 2nd Battalion, Bedford Regiment.
At Neuve Chapelle Captain Foss turned failure into victory. The enemy had captured part of our trenches, and our counter-attack, which was made with one officer and twenty men, failed, all but two of the party being killed or wounded. Seeing this, Captain Foss with eight men dashed forward through a fierce fire, and began pelting the enemy with bombs. So successful was his attack that he recaptured the position, and with it no less than fifty-two Germans. No words of mine are needed to extol the splendid bravery of Captain Foss and his gallant little company. Nine Britons retook a trench from more than fifty Germans!
Lance-Corporal W. D. Fuller, 1st Battalion, Grenadier Guards.
Observing a party of the enemy trying to escape along a communication trench, Corporal Fuller ran towards them, flinging bombs. The foremost man was killed, and the remainder, finding no means of escape, held up their hands and begged for mercy. All alone, Corporal Fuller received the surrender of fifty Germans! Prior to the war he was a miner of Mansfield. During a spell of leave in July 1915 he did excellent work as a recruiter. While he was telling the men of Fishguard, in Pembrokeshire, that if they were not fit to die they were not fit to live, some one in the crowd challenged him to enter the cage of two African lions then on exhibition in the town. At once Fuller threw his cap into the den, and then followed it. You can imagine the excitement of the townsfolk as he calmly stood by the lions and stroked their manes. As a result of this incident many men enlisted.
Lieutenant Cyril Gordon Martin, D.S.O., 56th Field Company, Royal Engineers.
On 12th March, when in command of a bomb-throwing party of six men, Lieutenant Martin, a young officer of twenty-four years of age, was wounded, but nevertheless led his comrades into an enemy's trench and held off all attempts to recover it for nearly two and a half hours. He had already distinguished himself, and had won the D.S.O. during the retreat from Mons by gallantly capturing and holding a German trench with a platoon of engineers. He was twice wounded on that occasion, and was invalided home. He had only been back at the front a few days when he won the V.C. for the exploit described above.
Private Jacob Rivers, 1st Battalion, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire Regiment (Sherwood Foresters).
Private Rivers was another of the bombers who won the highest award of valour during the first day of the great battle at Neuve Chapelle. Noticing that a large number of Germans were outflanking an advanced company of his regiment, he dashed forward, without waiting for orders, and flung bombs amongst the enemy with such effect that they were forced to retire. His prompt bravery undoubtedly saved the advanced company from disaster. Later in the day he performed a similar feat, but while engaged in this heroic work was shot through the heart. He was a native of Derby, and was thirty-four years of age. When the war broke out he had completed twelve years of service with the Royal Scots; but he immediately enlisted in the Sherwood Foresters, and, being an experienced soldier, was sent to France with one of the earliest drafts. He had a brother in the Grenadier Guards, and three brothers-in-law were serving in his own regiment. The cross of bronze which he did not live to wear was sent as a sad but proud memorial to his widowed mother.
The year 1915 saw the beginning and the end of a campaign which will go down to history as a splendid failure. Aided by the French, the British strove to force a right-of-way through the narrow and strongly fortified channels which give access from the Mediterranean Sea to the southern shores of Russia. Two attempts were made—the one naval, the other military—but both were fruitless. Ships of war strove to batter down the forts that commanded the channels, but had to retire discomfited. Then an army was landed on the Gallipoli peninsula, and a desperate effort was made to take the forts from the rear. The army was set an almost impossible task, yet it very nearly achieved the impossible. Men still live who surmounted the last great obstacle that lay between them and victory.
How the British and French landed on narrow beaches in the face of superior numbers of the enemy; how they fought their way up the cliffs in spite of artillery, machine guns, and entrenched infantry; how with superb courage and dogged endurance they established themselves on the peninsula; how they sacrificed themselves like the Spartans of old in fierce assaults on the ridges and high hills that barred the way to their goal; and how, finally, they withdrew to their ships without the loss of a single life—all this is a story which no Briton can read without mingled pride and pain: pride in the men of his race who nobly fought and died in the hopeless struggle; pain, that so much bright and gallant life should have been given in vain.
Henceforth the Gallipoli peninsula is sacred ground. The bones of tens of thousands of our gallant fellows lie buried in its soil. In days to come, when wandering Britons shall sail by its peaceful shores, they will hush their voices and think tenderly of those who sleep their last sleep amidst its rugged hills and deep ravines. It will be strange, too, if a prayer does not arise from their hearts that the Empire may ever be defended by men of such matchless valour and lofty devotion.
Before I describe the Dardanelles and the great naval attack on its forts, you must understand why we undertook the enterprise. It was, of course, to assist the Russians, who in the early months of 1915 were running short of big guns, rifles, and ammunition, and were unable to supply their needs by means of their own workshops. The Allies wished to help them, but were prevented from doing so to any great extent; because Russia in Europe is cut off from the open sea on all sides except in the extreme north, where the coast fronts the Arctic Ocean. The only port to which the Allies could send munitions was Archangel, which for about nine months of the year is frozen up. During the winter it was impossible for our ships to enter the harbour of Archangel at all. Even if Archangel had been open, matters would have been but little improved, for only a single line of railway connected this remote and evil-smelling port with the interior.[31]
Russia has a good deal of coast and many excellent harbours at the eastern end of the Baltic Sea; but our trading ships could not enter that sea because the Germans held the upper hand in it. Their warships lay in wait for all vessels coming through the narrow Danish channels. The only remaining sea coast of Russia in Europe lies along the ice-free Black Sea; but in order to reach its shores ships must traverse the narrow sea lane of the Dardanelles, cross the Sea of Marmora, and thread the strait of the Bosporus. When Turkey took the side of Germany this route was closed. Then, the only way by which the Allies could send guns and rifles and ammunition to Russia was to carry them by sea to one of the Siberian ports on the Pacific Ocean, where they were transferred to the Siberian railway and carried right across North Asia to Russia. Before a British or a French shell could reach Poland or Galicia it had to make an eight or nine weeks' voyage to the East, and a railway journey of more than five thousand miles.
Now I think you understand why it was so vastly important that we should try to force a right-of-way through the Dardanelles. Until this was done the Allied armies in the East and in the West were more completely cut off from each other than if they had been fighting in different hemispheres. It was impossible to send reinforcements from one to the other without carrying them almost round the globe. Further, the overseas trade of Russia was terribly hampered by the blocking of the Baltic Sea and the Black Sea. Millions of bushels of wheat lay rotting in the warehouses of the Black Sea ports, and vast sums of money were being lost because they could not find an outlet. If Constantinople could be captured, the Turks could be ejected from Europe, and their armies rendered powerless. When this happened, Greece and Bulgaria would no longer listen to the tempting voice of the German. So you see that the forcing of the Dardanelles was of the utmost importance to the Allies. It was felt that once we had a clear road to South Russia the end of the war would be in sight.
Roughly speaking, the waterway between the Mediterranean Sea and the Black Sea resembles a narrow glass tube with a bulb blown in the middle of it. The Dardanelles forms the first part of the tube, the bulb is the Sea of Marmora, and the remaining part of the tube consists of the Bosporus, or Ox Ford. The Dardanelles, or the Hellespont as it was called in ancient times, extends for 45 miles; the Sea of Marmora is 175 miles in length, and the Bosporus continues the waterway for another 17 miles. On a clear day it is said that from a hill on the shores of the Dardanelles one may look right across the Sea of Marmora and behold Constantinople, nearly two hundred miles away.
Now let us suppose that we are making a voyage from the Ægean Sea to the Sea of Marmora in times of peace. When we enter the strait we find that it resembles a wide river rather than an arm of the sea; and this is not surprising, for the channel is nothing but the bed of a river that was submerged in far-off days. The channel is only about two and a half miles wide, and we can clearly see the shores on either side of us. On our right is Asia; on our left is Europe. Along the line of this waterway East and West have met since the days when the world was young.
Almost every mile of the Asiatic shore of the Dardanelles recalls memories of the song and story of ancient days. We have scarcely entered the strait before we see on the Asiatic side the Kum Kale fort, and behind it the classic ground on which stood the famous city of Troy. I am sure you remember how Paris carried off the lovely Queen Helen to Troy, and how Homer's heroes fought for ten long years before the city was captured, and she was recovered and carried back by her husband to her home in Greece. Modern historians, however, tell us that the Trojan War was fought not for the fair face of Helen, but because the king of Troy almost closed the waterway by levying crushing duties on the goods that passed his shores. It is strange to note that Britons and French have shed their blood at the Dardanelles in order that wheat from the fruitful lands bordering the Black Sea might pass freely to the Mediterranean, and so to the crowded cities of Western Europe.
On the eastern or Asiatic side we see sloping gardens and rich vineyards, and elsewhere there are low, wooded hills; but the western or European side consists of a long unbroken line of barren cliffs. We are gazing at the shores of the long and hilly Gallipoli peninsula, which, you will see from the map, somewhat resembles a thumb bent at the joint. At the tip of the peninsula are the forts of Cape Tekke, Cape Helles, and Sedd-ul-Bahr. These, with the fort of Kum Kale, which I have already mentioned, guard the entrance to the Dardanelles.
As we proceed, the Asiatic shore curves inland, but the European shore continues straight and unbroken. The strait now widens to a breadth of five miles; but at Kephez Point it closes in to less than two miles. About three miles further on the "Narrows" begin. At one point the shores are not more than fourteen hundred yards apart, and for about a mile onward they are everywhere within a mile and a half of each other. Every ship that sails from the Mediterranean Sea to the Sea of Marmora must pass through this bottle neck.
No part of the Dardanelles is more famous in history than the "Narrows." Across the narrowest part of the Narrows Xerxes[32] flung his bridge of boats when he set out to conquer Europe. Herodotus, "the father of history," tells us that his Persians took seven days and seven nights, going continuously without any pause, to cross the bridge. A century and a half later Alexander the Great[33] re-bridged the channel when he began his great march into Asia. An old story tells us that every night Leander used to swim the Narrows from the Gallipoli side to visit Hero, his lady-love, who dwelt at Sestos, on the Asiatic side. The lighthouse at Sestos guided him; but one stormy night the light failed, and Hero waited for him in vain. Lord Byron swam the straits at this point in 1810. It was on the Asiatic shore of the Narrows that St. Paul heard the cry from Macedonia, "Come over and help us."
We need not proceed further with our voyage. The whole problem of forcing the Dardanelles centres on the "Narrows." Once they are safely passed, the broad, deep Sea of Marmora is easily traversed, and there is no obstacle between us and Constantinople. But how to pass the Narrows? There's the rub.
You may be sure that the Turks jealously guard these narrow waters. As early as 1460 forts were erected to defend them. Now both sides of the Narrows fairly bristle with powerful forts, in which big modern guns are mounted. You have already heard that the forts are provided with searchlights, which play across the water at night, and reveal the movements of even the smallest craft. Not only are the shores studded with forts, but batteries of big guns are concealed on the heights behind, and hidden torpedo tubes are ranged along the water's edge. Nature has also played her part in the defence of this dangerous and difficult channel. Swift currents sweep through the Narrows, and not only make navigation difficult, but carry along drifting mines. An enemy warship venturing into the channel must run the gauntlet of big guns on the shore and deadly explosives in the sea. While the defences remain intact the waterway is barred to her. To reduce the forts was, therefore, our first task.
I have already told you that when Britain declared war on Turkey (November 5th, 1914) a long friendship was broken. Our support of Turkey arose out of our deep distrust of Russia, now our good friend and loyal ally. We distrusted Russia because we knew that ever since the days of Peter the Great she had coveted Constantinople, and we feared that if she gained possession of that city our Far Eastern possessions would be threatened. We therefore threw in our lot with Turkey, and more than once saved her from being wiped off the map of Europe. During the present war we have reaped the bitter fruits of Turkish ingratitude.
About the year 1840 it seemed clear that Turkey was going to pieces, and that the break-up of her empire was only a matter of time. The Tsar Nicholas said to one of our ambassadors, "We have on our hands a sick man—a very sick man. It would be a great misfortune if one of these days he should slip away from us before the necessary arrangements have been made." He therefore proposed to divide up the Turkish dominions, taking Constantinople for himself, and offering us Crete and Egypt as our share of the spoils. The bribe was, of course, refused.
A few years later Greek and Latin priests quarrelled as to who should take charge of the holy places in Palestine. The Tsar Nicholas supported the Greeks, and the French became the champions of the Latins. Then the Tsar put forward a claim that the Sultan should recognize him as the protector of all Christians within the Turkish Empire. This demand was, of course, resisted, and in 1853 Russian armies invaded Turkey. We were not in the least interested in the trivial dispute, but we hated and feared the prospect of the Russians in Constantinople. Further, as a great trading nation, we wished to keep the Dardanelles open for peaceful commerce, and we thought that this could best be done if the straits remained in the hands of a weak Power such as Turkey. So we joined the French, and fought the Russians in the Crimea. We lost 24,000 men in the course of the war, and added £41,000,000 to our national debt; but we prevented the Russians from overwhelming the Turks.
Even this poor success was not lasting. Strife, tumult, and murder reigned in the Balkans under the cruel and blighting government of the Sultan, and twenty-four years later Russia again sent her armies into Turkey. The Russians drove back the Turks, and early in 1878 they were within a short distance of Constantinople. A cry of alarm and indignation broke out in England, and people went about the London streets shouting a popular song with the refrain, "The Russians shall not take Constantinople."
So strong was public feeling that a British fleet was ordered to the Dardanelles. The admiral was instructed to pass the straits, and, "if fired upon and his ships struck, to return the fire, but not to wait to silence the forts." On February 13, 1878, seven ships of war, under Admiral Hornby, steamed up the Dardanelles. The Turks manned the forts at the Narrows; but when the ships came up against a strong current and in the face of a blinding snowstorm, they forbore to fire their guns. There was an anxious moment when the Alexandra, which led the line, ran aground on the Asiatic side, within easy range of Turkish batteries. She was, however, unmolested, and managed to get off after four hours' hard work. She then joined her consorts in the Sea of Marmora, and the guns of the ships were trained on the domes and minarets of the Turkish capital.
No doubt the presence of a British fleet within striking range of Constantinople had its effect upon the Russians. They did not enter the city, but agreed to make a treaty with the Powers, by which Serbia, Montenegro, and Rumania became independent states, and Bulgaria was granted a form of Home Rule. The Christian states which have been carved out of Turkey in Europe owe everything to Russia. As you know, the Christians of the Balkans are Slavs, and are akin to the Russians both by race and religion. Russia has always been their friend and champion, and Serbia and Montenegro have stood by their benefactor during the present war. Rumania had, so far, determined to remain neutral; but Bulgaria, as we shall learn later, played a traitor's part, and before the year 1915 was out she had joined the Central Powers.
Britain has suffered greatly for her mistake in bolstering up the Turks, and in preventing the Russians from becoming masters of Constantinople. Had they been in possession of that city when the present war broke out, the work of overcoming the Germans and Austrians would have been shorn of half its difficulty. The Dardanelles would have been in the hands of our friends, and there would have been an open sea road by which Russia could have carried on her overseas trade, and received munitions and supplies from her Allies. There would have been no need for that naval attack on the forts of the Dardanelles which I am about to describe; nor should we have undertaken that land campaign in the Gallipoli peninsula which cost us more than 117,000 casualties, and ended in failure, only redeemed by the splendid gallantry of our men.
You have heard how Admiral Hornby's fleet threaded the Dardanelles in 1878 without firing a shot. Now let me tell you very briefly how a British squadron forced its way through the straits in spite of strong resistance. In the year 1807, when we alone of all the European nations were holding out against the French, it was thought that if a British fleet were sent to Constantinople the Turks might be forced to break with Napoleon. So a powerful squadron under Admiral Duckworth sailed for the Dardanelles, with orders to demand the surrender of the Turkish fleet. If the demand was refused, he was to bombard Constantinople. Those were the days of sailing ships, and it was not easy to get men-of-war and frigates up the narrow winding waters, where the winds were irregular and the currents were baffling. The "castles" at the entrance and the forts at the Narrows opened fire on the ships; but little harm was done, and they passed through and anchored off Constantinople. It now seemed likely that under the muzzles of British guns the Sultan would give way. The French agents, however, persuaded him to "play for time," so that heavy batteries might be set up on the shores of the straits, and Duckworth's ships might be bombarded as they tried to return to the Mediterranean. Duckworth, you will notice, was in a very tight place. He was cut off from the open sea, and he could obtain no fresh supplies of food, water, or ammunition. It was clear that when his stores were exhausted he would be at the mercy of his enemies. So, before he could come to any agreement with the Sultan, he was forced to retire. His ships sailed slowly across the Sea of Marmora, and when the Narrows were reached the Turkish batteries opened fire with huge balls of marble, said to be hewn out of columns found amidst the ruins of Troy. One enormous stone shot cut the mainmast of the flagship in two; a second, that hit another vessel, knocked three gun ports into one, and killed or wounded sixty men. Finally, by good luck, the ships reached the open sea in safety. All on board were convinced that the experiment was too risky to be repeated.
Our greatest sailor, Nelson, always believed that strong, heavily armed forts could resist the attack of ships. When he was asked to reduce certain forts in Corsica by means of gun fire, he pointed out that stone walls were stronger than wooden walls, and that red-hot cannon balls from the guns of the forts might set his ships on fire. Since his day wooden walls have been replaced by armour plate, and red-hot shot by high-explosive shells. Nevertheless it is still true that shore batteries are more than a match for the heaviest armed battleships afloat. Of course, weak or badly-manned forts have been overcome by the guns of ships, as in the case of those at Alexandria, which were silenced by a British fleet in 1882; but as a rule ships run a great risk in attacking forts at close range, and are more than likely to come off second best.
While a fort can only be put out of action by gun fire, a ship can be sunk not only by gun fire, but by mines or torpedoes. Forts can be strengthened to almost any extent, and protected by earthworks of all kinds, but there is a limit to the thickness and weight of the armour plate with which ships can be clad. Further, while shore batteries can be so hidden that they cannot be detected even from aeroplanes, a ship in action is in full sight of the fort, and is thus a good target. Then, again, hits made on the outer slopes of forts do but little damage. The only hits that really count are those which destroy or dismount guns, and such "direct hits" are few and far between. On the other hand, every shot that hits the ship is bound to tell, and the ship may be put out of action without a single gun being hit. You must also remember that while the fortress gunner is aiming at a wall twenty or thirty feet high and a hundred feet long, the ship's gunner can only fire at a low mound, or at a battery not more than four and a half feet in height.
Even more difficult is the task of a ship's gunner when he is aiming at forts or batteries on high ground. It is not easy for a naval gun to bring an effective fire to bear on a target at a high level above the sea. Batteries on rising ground are difficult to reach, and when they are "spotted" they can be shifted to other positions, in which case the ship's gunners have to find the range all over again. When the shells from the ship's guns strike the ground they throw up columns of dust, and it is difficult for observers on board the ship or in the air to see exactly where the shells fall; but shells from the forts or land batteries drop into the sea, and throw up fountains of water which are clearly visible, and enable the observers on land to discover and set right all errors of range.
A ship attacking a fort from the sea may silence it for a time; but when the ship draws off, as it is bound to do, the fort may be repaired and new guns may be mounted. Unless a landing-party goes ashore and utterly destroys the fort, there is no guarantee that the ship's work will not have to be done all over again. Even if forts are blown up, land batteries can be established, and resistance can be continued. Without land forces to occupy the shores on which the forts are situated, no really lasting result can be obtained by the ships.
Now that you understand the disadvantages under which a fleet attacks forts, you will naturally ask why the British Government only sent ships to break down the defences of the Dardanelles. Why was not an army landed on the Gallipoli peninsula, to get behind the forts, or to attack them in the rear while the ships bombarded them from the sea? In the first weeks of February we were not ready to fit out and send a sufficiently strong army to the Gallipoli peninsula. Why, then, were the naval attacks not postponed until the army was ready? Probably it was thought that if we hastened to show our strength in Near Eastern waters Greece, Bulgaria, and perhaps Rumania, might be won over to our side, or, at least, persuaded to turn a deaf ear to the tempting voice of the Kaiser. Further, some of the rulers of our navy really believed that the armament of our warships was now so powerful that the straits could be carried by gun fire alone. The idea of our Admiralty was to silence the forts at the entrance to the straits, then with a fleet of mine-sweepers from the North Sea to clear the inner waters so that warships could steam sufficiently near to the forts at the Narrows to concentrate a fierce fire on them. When they were silenced the ships would dash through.
But even supposing the forts could be thus silenced, and our warships could slip through the straits, what then? So long as the Turks held the shores they could repair the damage to their forts, mount new batteries, strew the waters with mines, and take a heavy toll of our ships when lack of supplies forced them to return. Those who planned this naval attack probably thought that the Turks would give in as soon as Constantinople was shelled. But such a happy ending to the adventure was very doubtful.
So you see that unless the ships were supported by land forces sufficient to hold at least one of the shores of the straits, all the efforts of the fleet were likely to prove fruitless. Nevertheless an unsupported naval attack was decided upon, and this was the first of the many costly mistakes which were made at the Dardanelles. When our ships began bombarding the forts, the Turks and their German advisers knew that we should have to make a land attack sooner or later. With feverish haste they therefore began to dig trenches and make gun pits on the Gallipoli peninsula. Thus, the Turks were afforded a breathing space in which to make any future land operations doubly difficult.
As far back as November 3, 1914, a British and French squadron of battleships and battle cruisers shelled the forts which guard the entrance to the Dardanelles both on the Gallipoli and the Asiatic side. The attack was not long sustained; each ship only fired about twenty rounds. The forts replied, but most of the shots fell short. The sole object of this brief bombardment was to get the range of the forts. A spectator noticed that while the firing continued a heavy haze of smoke hung over the Turkish positions, and columns of dust rose high into the air, making "spotting" very difficult.
Three months elapsed before the real attack began. On February 9, 1915, five British warships, the Inflexible, Agamemnon, Cornwallis, Vengeance, and Triumph, along with the French cruisers Bouvet, Suffren, and Gaulois, and a flotilla of destroyers, turned their guns on the entrance forts once more. Behind the battle line lay the Ark Royal, a mother ship for seaplanes. The aircraft which ascended from her decks carried observers, whose duty it was to direct the gunnery. Long-range firing began at eight in the morning, and before long the forts seemed to be smothered in bursting shells. Hits were frequently made both on the forts at Cape Helles and at Kum Kale, on the opposite shore; but what happened to the low earthworks of the batteries at Sedd-el-Bahr was difficult to ascertain. The forts did not reply, and Admiral Carden, who was in command of the bombarding fleet, thought that they must be out of action. Shortly before three in the afternoon he ordered six of his ships to close in, and bring all their guns to bear on the forts. As they did so the silent batteries awoke to life, and shells fell fast and thick around the attacking vessels. The Turkish fire, however, was badly aimed, and not a single ship was hit. By sundown the Gallipoli batteries were again silent; but Kum Kale was still firing when dusk began to fall, and Admiral Carden had to withdraw his fleet for the night.
Next day there was bad weather, which continued for a week, and the attack could not be resumed until the 25th. The Queen Elizabeth, Agamemnon, Irresistible, and Gaulois pounded the forts at such a long range that the guns on shore could not reach them. At the end of an hour and a half the Queen Elizabeth had silenced the forts at Cape Helles, but not before the Agamemnon had been struck by a shell which killed eight men and wounded five others. Under the protection of the super-Dreadnought's fire, the Vengeance and Cornwallis now steamed in to complete the destruction of the forts. Meanwhile the Irresistible and the Gaulois had severely hammered the Kum Kale batteries and the Suffren and Charlemagne were told off to put the finishing touches to the work of their bigger sisters. By 5.15 that evening all the forts at the entrance to the Dardanelles were rubbish heaps. The Turkish gunners had fought pluckily for seven hours against overwhelming odds, and their defeat brought them no discredit. So far, the naval attack had been quite successful.
When the ships ceased fire North Sea trawlers began the business of mine-sweeping. As you know, it is dangerous and difficult work; but it was admirably done, and by the morning of the 26th the first four miles of the straits were clear of mines, and all was ready for an attack on the inner forts. The Albion, Vengeance, and Majestic now steamed up the straits to the limit of the mine-swept waters, and began to bombard Fort Dardanos, on the Asiatic side. The fort replied, as also did certain concealed batteries at various points along the shore. Once more the aim of the Turkish gunners was uncertain, and the ships suffered no damage. The guns of the ships dispersed several bodies of troops behind the forts.
Meanwhile landing-parties of Royal Marines were sent ashore to blow up the forts which had been silenced on the previous day. Everywhere, except at Kum Kale, this was successfully done. The parties which landed on the Asiatic side were stubbornly resisted. They fought a hot little fight with the Turks, and had to fall back to their boats with a few casualties. Next day the Turks falsely announced that they had everywhere beaten off our landing-parties with heavy loss.
The entrance to the straits was now in our hands; but its capture was only the beginning of the task. I have already told you that the main defences of the Dardanelles consist of the clustering forts and batteries on both sides of the bottle neck known as the Narrows. Our ships had now to deal not only with these forts and batteries, but with drifting mines and hidden torpedo tubes. Their hour of trial was fast approaching. Strong and bitterly cold northerly winds postponed the attack until 4th March; but in the meantime the trawlers, under cover of the destroyers, swept another five miles of the straits up to within a mile and a half of the beginning of the Narrows.
On 4th March the ships were again in action, and another attempt was made by the Marines to land at Kum Kale. Once more they found a strong body of Turks awaiting them, and had to retire to their boats with a loss of nineteen killed, twenty-five wounded, and three missing. Many of the men were killed by snipers concealed in the ruins or in trees. A midshipman of the Ocean tells us that a sergeant of Marines was found pierced by fourteen bullets. His comrades searched round until they found a German concealed in a wood exactly opposite to the wounded man. "He was put up against a tree and shot without a word."
Next day a squadron of battleships and cruisers began the bombardment of Smyrna, the chief city of Asia Minor, and one of the greatest ports in the Turkish Empire. Some thirty-two hits were made on the forts, which made no reply. The attack was renewed on several of the following days, but with no result. Probably it was never intended to be serious, and was only made to distract the attention of the enemy.
On the morning of 6th March the forts at the Narrows were assaulted by ships well up the straits. The attacking vessels were frequently hit by shells, but no serious damage was done, and there was no loss of life. The bombardment from the inside of the straits was not the main attack. That was made by the Queen Elizabeth, Agamemnon, and Ocean from the Gulf of Saros. The ships lay off the point of Gaba Tepe, and, under the direction of aeroplanes, hurled their shells on to the forts at Chanak, which you will see on the Asiatic side of the Narrows, twelve miles away. The great 15-inch guns of "Big Lizzie," as the bluejackets dubbed the monster battleship, fired twenty-nine rounds, and played havoc with the forts. A shell from the "Lizzie" blew up the powder magazine of one of the batteries. You must not suppose that the ships in the Gulf of Saros went unmolested. The Turks had concealed guns on the heights of the peninsula, and with them they made good practice. The "Lizzie" was hit three times.
The attack now seemed to be proceeding favourably. Every day newspaper readers at home expected to hear that the forts at the Narrows had been silenced, and that the guns of the fleet were within range of Constantinople. Little real progress, however, was being made. Often when forts ceased fire we flattered ourselves with the belief that they had been destroyed. What had really happened was that the heavy fumes from our shells had driven the gunners out of their casemates. As soon as the air became clear again they returned to work their guns once more. Even at Sedd-el-Bahr and Kum Kale our success was not complete. We had blown up the forts, but we had not occupied the ground on both sides of the entrance, and the Turks had strongly entrenched themselves near at hand, and had mounted guns, which were able to continue the resistance.
On the night of 13th March the small light cruiser Amethyst performed a very daring feat. She dashed into the Narrows, and attempted to rush through. Concealed batteries opened fire on her, and she was hit several times at close range. Before she could run back into safety some fifty of her men had been knocked over. At home it was reported that she had actually succeeded in passing the forts, and everybody hoped that the beginning of the end was in sight. By this time an enormous number of vessels of all sorts and sizes had been mustered. Never before had such a fleet been seen in Eastern waters. Amongst the newcomers was the Russian cruiser Askold, which our sailors called "the packet of Woodbines," because of her five slim funnels. On 18th March Admiral Robeck, who had succeeded Admiral Carden in command of the fleet, felt that the time had come for a big effort.
Thursday, 18th March, broke bright and clear, with a light wind and a calm sea. At a quarter to eleven the Queen Elizabeth, Inflexible, Agamemnon, and Lord Nelson, supported by the Triumph and Swiftsure, steamed up the bright blue waters of the straits, and began firing at long range on the batteries on both sides of the Narrows. Forts, batteries, howitzers, and field guns replied, and after the bombardment had lasted an hour and a half, a French squadron of four ships, including the Bouvet, steamed in to attack the enemy at close range. Ten ships were now hurling their missiles on the forts, and under this terrific bombardment they were powerless to reply. Then a British squadron of six ships came up to push the attack home. As this squadron steamed towards Chanak, the French ships were withdrawn from the narrow waters, in order to make room for the newcomers. Suddenly, while this movement was going on, the forts began to fire again. It was now clear that they had not been seriously injured by our heavy bombardment.
As the Bouvet retired an officer on a British destroyer saw three shells strike her. Almost at the same moment she blew up with a terrific explosion, and was hidden in a dense cloud of smoke. In three minutes she heeled over and disappeared. A consort rushed to her assistance, only to find bubbles rising to the surface, and a pall of black smoke slowly lifting. Out of her crew of 630, only 64 were saved. At first it was thought that the enemy's shells had destroyed her, but the real cause of the disaster was a floating mine. The Turks, seeing the narrow waterway full of ships, had dropped mines in the channel, and the current had swept them along on their mission of destruction.
This grave misfortune led to no slackening of the bombardment. An hour and a half later the Irresistible, a British battleship, thirteen years old, also fouled a mine. She began to list heavily, and slowly dragged her way from the firing line towards the entrance to the straits. At ten minutes to six she sank, but happily not until our destroyers had taken off nearly all her ship's company. The rescue of the Irresistible's crew was a very gallant and skilful bit of work, for the destroyers were under Turkish fire all the time. A midshipman named Hugh Dixon did splendid service in picking up officers and men while shells were falling round his boat. He afterwards received the Distinguished Service Cross.