ADDERLEY’s ‘The Warwickshire Yeomanry in the Great War’ published in 1922 records that ‘the main object of the attack on 21st August 1915 was the seizure of the Anafarta Heights, and the operations commenced at 2.30pm with a heavy bombardment of the enemy’s positions by ships in the harbour and guns on Chocolate Hill and Green Hill.
At 3pm a general advance of the Infantry began, but after fierce fighting, two Infantry Brigades were in difficulties from mistaken direction and forced back. Their failure
involved
other Brigades and, although the 29th Division coming up in support, did their utmost to retrieve the fortunes of the day, advancing to the attack again and again, they were beaten back, and a general retirement was inevitable.’
‘The Yeomanry Division (deployed as Infantry) waiting in reserve behind Lala Baba, close to the beach were ordered to advance to a fresh position behind Chocolate Hill in rear of the 88th Brigade, to reach this they had to cross the dry bed of the Salt Lake and they at once came under heavy shrapnel fire.’
Referring to this movement Sir Ian HAMILTON said “Ordinarily it should always be possible to bring up reserves under some sort of cover from shrapnel fire. Here for a mile and half there was nothing to conceal a mouse, much less some of the most stalwart soldiers England has ever sent from her shores.”
By the time they reached their new positions behind Chocolate Hill it was 6pm and they at once moved into action – the 2nd Mounted Brigade leading with the 1st Mounted Brigade (including the Warwickshire Yeomanry) in reserve.
They advanced in line of troop columns over about 2.5 miles of flat country with patches of gorse and scrub, and when halfway across came under heavy shrapnel fire. The enemy had got the range and shells continued to burst about 30 feet over head with deadly effect.
The enclosed letter written by 912 Sergt-Major J.R. TAIT 1/1st Warwickshire Yeomanry provides an eyewitness account of what transpired on the 21st August 1915. This letter can be viewed in our Museum Archives along with other original 1915 newspaper clippings re the Warwickshire Yeomanry at Gallipoli.
A letter published on 6th December 1915 by the newspaper "Coventry Evening Telegraphan by an unidentified member of 1/1st Warwickshire Yeomanry described their experiences at Suvla.
“Since leaving Egypt I haven't been able to write you very fully for several reasons. For one thing, I haven't had much time lately, also notepaper has been scarce, and then, again, the Censor would not have allowed me to say much. But now that we are off the Peninsula for a short rest I will try and give you a few more details.
As you know, we left Egypt suddenly. One day we were cavalry, the next we had become infantry, and the following day were on board ship. The first time we had our full equipment on with packs, overcoats and blankets, was when we marched to the docks. We had a pleasant voyage on a good boat, and the sea being as smooth as a mill pond, were able to enjoy thoroughly the excellent food provided on board. The crew cheered up considerably by telling us how on the last trip they brought back half the men on the return journey wounded! We called at Lemnos, and there got our first idea of what a naval base is like, but I suppose even now I mustn't say anything about what we saw. Towards evening were transferred to a cruiser, which slipped out of harbour during the night, and at daybreak was anchored in Bay. This cruiser had been in action several times, and had assisted at the first landing at Suvla Bay a week or so previous. We learned afterwards on the peninsula that the Turks feared her guns more than any.
“We landed without incident by means of picket boats and lighters, but five minutes afterwards we were forming a shell shrieked overhead and dropped between us and the sea. This was absolutely our first experience of anything the kind, and we ducked — as one man. Several more shells came over, but none fell within fifty yards of us, and one felt exceedingly foolish after going flat on the ground to see how far away they really were, and in this way we soon to see the futility of ducking. Speaking for myself, my greatest emotion when the first shell came was one of intense surprise. A moment before it had been difficult to realise that we really were last at the seat of hostilities. Everyone seemed to be working calmly and naturally that it seemed to come as a great surprise to find someone firing on us and evidently having a desire to kill us! We spent a couple of days at Suvla Bay, getting one or two casualties each day from shell fire. These occurred chiefly when men went to draw water or rations from the beach. Invariably if a group collected, a shell would come over.
“On the evening of the 20th we marched to Lala Baba, a big hill on the coast about three miles away and dug ourselves in for the night. We woke to the thunder of big guns, for this was Saturday August 21st, a day that I think none of us will ever forget, and the naval guns had already started their bombardment of the Turkish positions. All morning the bombardment was kept up with unabated fury. Towards mid-day we could also hear the rattle of rifle and machine-gun fire. At two o'clock we fell in, and by three had left the protection of Lala Baba and were the open plain beyond. Then we began to know what war was. We had three miles of absolutely open country, with no protection or cover of any kind, to cross. The Turks soon spotted us, and after a trial shot or two to get the range they let have it! First a high explosive dropped on the muddy edges of the Salt Lake and dirt and stones flew high in the air. One wondered idly what would have happened had it dropped amongst a group of our fellows. And then of one did.
“I don't think I shall ever forget that sight. When the smoke cleared away one or two forms lay still, another was kneeling, one got up and ran a few yards and dropped again, another, was running about dazed. After that one had no time for any particular incident, the shrapnel burst over us and on every side. Dozens of times I felt bits of earth and dust hit me. One shell killed a man at my side and wounded three behind me. We got the order to “double”; did, for perhaps a hundred yards, then we perforce came to a walk again, couldn't run any further. Personally, I was almost done up. I thought “I'm going to walk the rest of the way if I am hit.” It seemed preferable to running when so exhausted, for besides our equipment, rifles and ammunition, we were carrying picks and shovels.
“At last we reached Chocolate Hill. What a relief that was! Here we thought was safety, for men sat calmly smoking in their dug-outs and watching us, but the shrapnel pursued us even there. After a short rest, during which we had many praises from the infantry occupying the hill on the way we had come over the plain, we moved on into the open country on the other side of the hill. The rest of the events of the day are a confused blur in my mind and you will have to read Ashmead Bartlett, so it is useless for me to try and gild the lily. I know we saw the gorse burning in half a dozen places and the stretcher bearers working like Trojans to bring in the wounded. So well did they work that not a single wounded man was left in the vicinity of any of the fires. After leaving Chocolate Hill we were not troubled so much with but got in the zone of rifle fire, and the bullets hummed round and over us like a angry bees. About two o'clock we retired to Lala Baba, which we reached about daybreak. Here we had a few hours' sleep and some food and many of us indulged in a bathe in the sea, then at night, under cover of darkness, returned to Chocolate Hill. We dug ourselves in and remained on the hill for ten days, every day losing one or two men from shell fire. We lived on bully beef and biscuits, rice, jam, and tea, and we also learnt what it was to be short of water. About three pints a day was all one got for cooking and drinking. Washing, of course, was out of the question. It was not until we got into the front-line trenches that I got a good wash. Here it was only necessary to dig a hole about two feet deep in the bottom of the trench for water from underground springs to drain into it. We were in the first line trenches for three weeks, during which time we were lucky enough to have very few casualties, though we sent a good many men away with dysentry. [sic] We had good many “strafes,” of course, and some midnight alarms when we were hurriedly roused from sleep and dressed (i.e., put our hats on) and stood to arms while bullets and bombs rained down on the trenches. After three weeks of this we were taken to the reserve trenches for a “rest,” but as we were about half a mile in the rear of the firing line we came in for all the shells and bullets which missed the front line. Later we had another spell in the front line, where we happened to be in a fairly warm corner and were treated to liberal supply of bombs every night.
“That was several weeks ago, and now we are off the Peninsula for a time with a much better chance of getting a real rest and a well-earned one, too, after nearly three months in Gallipoli. Towards the end of our time in the trenches we got very good food. For breakfast got bacon, bread and jam, and tea. For dinner, six days out of seven we got fresh meat and there was also rice and jam. For tea, bread jam. There were also occasional issues of flour, potatoes, and onions. Indeed at one time bacon and onions was the popular breakfast dish. It was astonishing also how quickly one got accustomed to shell and rifle fire. For the first couple days one kept ducking the whole of the time; after that one got quite used to it and did not worry at all, though you developed a very keen sense of discrimination as how close the shells were dropping! Sleeping under fire came perfectly natural and the sound of bullets hitting the other side of the sand bags against which you were resting kept no one awake; indeed it took a trench mortar to wake me.
“We had several chaplains with our Division, both Roman Catholic and Church of England, and had frequent services. These were not always on a Sunday, but had to be held when time and circumstances permitted. Usually, we had an early Communion service on Sunday morning. One of these early morning services, held in a corner of the trench, is an experience not lightly forgotten, especially, when there is a sentry a couple of yards away peering over the parapet with a periscope with two or three Turkish marksmen 300 yards away trying to hit it.” [1]
[1] 'Coventry Evening Telegraph,' 6th December 1915.