Pilgrimage
Pilgrimage 2005
A Great Gable to Gallipoli - 5th to 11th May 2005
From the summit of Achi Baba, 709 feet feet above sea-level, I had a tremendous view of the battlefield. Although the sun beat down fiercely upon my Foreign Service helmet a stiff breeze kept me comfortable despite khaki serge tunic and trousers. I could taste the salt in the air. All around me, in their full glory, were the famous battlefields of Gallipoli. The best view of all was of Cape Helles, site of the initial British landings in April 1915 and now a mere six miles South of me. Taking a few steps forward, to find better footing in my heavy ammunition boots, I realised there was only one thing wrong with this historical scene: British troops had never got this far inland. How could the combined might of the British and French Empires have achieved so little in eight long months? At that moment the full scale of the mismanagement, and dare I say defeat, of our Mediterranean Expeditionary Force became all too clear.
Small groups of living-historians, in uniforms not seen by the locals for the best part of a century, have become increasingly common on the Western Front in recent times. Indeed my own group, The Manchester Regiment 1914-18, have made such trips annually for the last nine years. But for 2005, our tenth ‘pilgrimage’ (as we like to call these them), we decided to be more adventurous and achieve a long held ambition of visiting the second most bloody campaign of the war for Britain: Gallipoli.
Arriving at Manchester Airport very early on the first day, tired but excited, we flew to London and then onto Istanbul (or Constantinople as it was called in 1915). We were met by our Turkish speaking guide (as required by Turkish law) and boarded the minibus that was to carry us everywhere for the seven days. There was no time to explore the capital on that day, although we did find few hours to do so before catching our flight home. We followed the sea of Mamara’s coastline on our left for some 200 miles and just before dark reached the Gallipoli Peninsula and the Hotel Kum (‘Sand’). Basic, but comfortable; it proved an excellent base for our expedition.
Our first morning on tour was spent studying the Naval campaign from the Asiatic side of the Straights. Standing next to a dozen original guns at the Dardonos Battery Memorial, it was not hard to imagine the narrow strip of water before us defended by coastal guns, mines and submarine nets with a mighty Allied fleet, of a type never to be seen again, trying to force its way through in order to steam on to the Turkish capital at Constantinople. It came tantalisingly close to victory, but for reasons all the more frustrating with hindsight, the attempt was a failure and the Army was ordered to assist. The General put in charge, Sir Ian Hamilton, decided to make his landings at the tip of the Peninsula and then advance Northwards, clearing enemy resistance, in order to allow the Navy free passage up the Narrows. To fully understand the difficulties that the initial landings imposed we hired a boat and sailed around the coast, seeing the beaches from the perspective of the British as they made their plans. Under a hot, blue sky the 4 1/2 hour trip was an outstanding feature of the tour.
Day three was our first in uniform. For historical accuracy the only concession to the otherwise standard uniform of Western Europe were our cork Foreign Service helmets, each displaying a ‘flash’ on the left hand side for the 8th Battalion, Manchester Regiment. At the massive Turkish Abide Memorial we were mobbed by hundreds of tourists, all wanting to be photographed with us. During the war all the MEF were known by the locals as Ingleze. Ironically in 2005 everybody was shouting ANZAC’s, ANZAC’s (though of course we put them right). We dropped down to S beach, where 2/SWB landed, and then onto Morto Bay where a large, quite French cemetery overlooks the sea. Here it was peaceful and we walked on to the tiny ‘V’ beach where the River Clyde was run aground in order that the troops inside her might have some protection as they landed (a disaster as it turned out). At ‘W’ beach we took photographs recreating the landing of the 127th ‘Manchester’ Brigade (inc. the 8th Manch) exactly ninety years to the day after the event. I think that most of us found the story of this Brigade, and the gallant East Lacashire Division to which it belonged, the most relevant and interesting of the tour. The most important part of the whole trip, and ultimately the reason behind it, was then carried out. Having been bussed up to the Helles memorial, with hundreds of spectators, we created a small space around the Manchester Brigade panel. Forming a two sided guard, we laid the Manchester Regiment wreath and gave the exhortation.
"They shall grow not old as we that are left grow old.
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
We will remember them." Sunday was our day off. Many of us made use of it by having another look at Helles in the morning and then visiting the archaeological remains of the ancient city of Troy. At less than an hours drive away on the Asiatic side it was an excellent bonus. We even had time left for a quick stop at Kum Kale where the French Corps Expiditionnaire d’Orient made its diversionary attack.
On day five we headed for ANZAC, so far only seen from the sea. From the beach we walked up through the now beautiful, flowering Shrapnel Valley and a narrow climb of 3/4 mile to Plugge’s Plateau. Here we were treated to stunning views while a maze of overgrown trenches confirmed our strategic position. We carried on to the daunting heights of Sari Bair Ridge and the Gaba Tepe Museum. The displaying of bones dug up on the battlefield was the only dampner to this otherwise very interesting experience. For me the most poignant spot in the ANZAC sector is Lone Pine Cemetery. Scene of the great attacks which earned the Australians 7 VC’s and now home to their Memorial to the Missing. This quite spot, high on the ridge, is a must for any visitor and only a short walk down a gentle, winding track leads to Shell Green Cemetery; scene of the only recorded cricket match during the campaign. We lunched and then, donning full webbing, marched along the Sari Bair Ridge next to reconstructed trenches and tunnels, seeking the Turkish and New Zealand memorials. We ended the day on Hill 971, the highest point of all, and our best views yet of Suvla Bay.
The latter was the destination for our last day on tour. A large, flat cultivated area, this was the scene of the final British landings on August 6th 1915. With his massive assaults at Helles and ANZAC repeatedly halted by Turkish forces, Sir Ian Hamilton decided upon a new strategy. Keen to put an end to the protracted campaign, Britain had given him five more Divisions. He decided to land the bulk of these, 25,000 men, much farther North than on previous occasions in order to advance from West to East and cut off the Peninsula at its neck. This operation, alongside simultaneous assaults at Helles and ANZAC would trap the Turkish Army and force it to surrender or be utterly destroyed. Hamilton now had over 120,000 troops in theatre. It was almost an embarrassment of riches and for the first time in the War Gallipoli became the Front upon which the main British hopes were fixed; indeed men and shells were being withheld from France to support it. Of course the result was another extremely close, but ultimately total failure.
With all this in mind we took our first steps upon Suvla beneath the mighty Kiretch Tepe, Anafarta and Sari Bair Ridges. It was a bright day with the dried up salt lake sparkling just inland from the blue Agean sea. With so much to see and tell over an hour was spent at Suvla point. There were numerous finds, including the brass air vent from a British Foreign Service helmet complete, amazingly, with a scrap of its khaki cloth cover. My own objective at this time was to locate the remains of a British ‘Beetle’ I knew was in the area. These armoured landing barges, first used at Suvla Bay, were the precursors to those used at Normandy fifty years later. Each held five hundred men and, fitted with armour plates, could withstand both machine-gun and shell-fire. The name derived from the fact they were painted black and that the large landing ramps that protruded from their bows had the appearance of antenna. I eventually discovered the remains in a small, natural harbour. The vessel’s skeleton was well preserved, its ribs protruding just above sea level, allowing us to easily judge the shape and scale of the once impressive piece of cutting edge technology. We moved on to Hill 10 cemetery for a rare encounter with a team of Commonwealth War Graves Commission gardeners. After chatting at length with the head man, he gave each of us a Turkish bullet from his personal horde of finds. Continuing on, by Midday we reached the most Northerly of the Gallipoli cemeteries at Azmac where the story of the disappearing Sandringham Company of 5/Norfolks was told. After several more stops, and with heavy hearts, we reached our final point on the tour at Embarkation Cemetery. Here we heard about the famous withdrawal, undoubtedly the most skilful and successful operation of the whole campaign. Among the last few to leave in 1916 was General Maude, commander of the 13th Division. Around 2am on the last night he discovered that his valise had been left behind and resolved not to go without it. He turned back, along with another officer, ultimately finding his lost baggage and placed it on a wheeled stretcher. Back at the now deserted shore his men aboard the barge waiting for him felt they should not leave the General behind. But in the middle of a tremendous storm they could not wait forever. After 20 minutes the commander declared they could wait no more. At this moment the General appeared out of the darkness with his companion and trundled his valise down to the pier. The incident inspired the following lines:
"Come into the lighter, Maude,
For the fuse has long been lit,
Come into the lighter, Maude,
And never mind your kit" During the 259 days of the campaign half a million men had served at Gallipoli and just over half had become casualties. The best figure for Turkish casualties is 251,000 perhaps only a thousand more than the Allies. What had been achieved? While its true that Turkey had been completely tied down for the duration, when it was over twenty Divisions were set free to threaten Egypt. All contact with Russia and Rumania was lost and the war dragged on in the Near East for another three years while another Allied Army, massively larger to the one employed in the Dardenelles, slowly and painfully made good the losses. The disastrous failure is perhaps best represented by the fact that no special medal was awarded to the men who fought at Gallipoli.
Fortunately the Manchester Regiment 1914-18’s ‘great gable’ exactly ninety years later was an unqualified success. It was probably the most enjoyable of the ten trips we have made so far and was a fantastic shared experience. We now look forward to our 11th ‘pilgrimage’ to Verdun and the Somme. If you like what you’ve read and wish to join us next time then why not get in touch?