The Gallipoli campaign exerts a powerful hold on the Australian
imagination. Its influence grows every year as increasing numbers of
Australians travel to the Gallipoli battlefields. The crowds of mainly
young Australians and New Zealanders attending the dawn service
ceremonies at Gallipoli on Anzac Day now number almost 16,000 –
matching the numbers of Anzacs who first landed there on April 25, 1915.
Yet as Gallipoli’s appeal grows, so too do the popular myths and
misconceptions about it. The story of the Australian achievement at
Gallipoli is more compelling when stripped to its essential truth. Five
major myths surround the Anzac landing.
Myth 1: The Anzac landing was
heavily opposed
The blood-stained beach of Anzac Cove,
Australian soldiers scrambling ashore under a hail of machine-gun fire,
and bodies littering the shoreline. This has been the popular image of
the Anzac landing for 90 years.
The reality was very different. When
the first wave of 1500 Australian troops landed on April 25, 1915, fewer
than 200 Turkish soldiers defended the shore. Two companies guarded the
coast in scattered outposts. They had no continuous trench lines or
entanglements and no machine-guns in the immediate area. The coastline
was lightly defended to avoid heavy losses from naval gunfire. Three
Turkish divisions were quartered inland to be rushed forward to meet any
large invasion.
To achieve surprise, the Anzacs landed
before dawn and without a preliminary naval bombardment. The 36 boats
carrying the first wave landed about 4.30am around a low headland called
Ari Burnu. Although few in number, the Turkish defenders were alert and
ready. “The first bullets were striking sparks out of the shingle as
the first boat loads reached the shore,” wrote official correspondent
Charles Bean. The Turkish rifle fire steadily increased in intensity,
although Turkish artillery did not begin to fire shrapnel until about an
hour later.
Numbers of men were hit as they
desperately rowed ashore or leapt from the boats. Australian losses were
lighter than expected, however, especially among the initial waves
landing before daylight. Within 15 minutes, they had cleared the small
posts of Turkish defenders and climbed the first ridge, about 100m high.
By then the second wave was landing on a much wider front. The heaviest
losses occurred in several boats which came under fire from the
foothills as they landed further north.
By about 6am, some 4,000 Anzac troops
had landed and by 8am, about 8,000 were ashore. Despite the hazards of
concealed Turkish snipers, Anzac Cove was secure. The battle for the
beaches had been quickly won.
Meanwhile, the combat moved inland.
Both sides brought up reinforcements and struggled for possession of the
high ridges. The tortuous terrain favoured the Turkish defenders, whose
commanders knew the country well. Australian officers found their maps
useless and the terrain daunting.
The main Turkish reserve, the 19th
Division commanded by Lieutenant Colonel Mustafa Kemal, was based less
than 7km inland. Unluckily for the Australians, Kemal had his finest
regiment mustered before dawn for field exercises in the very area of
the Anzac’s main objective, Hill 971.
Receiving reports of the landing
around Ari Burnu, Kemal quickly deduced this was not a feint. The
Australians appeared to be heading for Hill 971, the highest point of
the Sari Bair ridge. He realised the key to securing the landing – or
to resisting it effectively – lay in possession of the heights. Kemal
led his regiment by forced march to intercept the Anzacs and to occupy
the crucial ridge lines above Battleship Hill. There he ordered his
soldiers to defend their position to the death. By 10.30am, a Turkish
force of about 4000 men halted the Anzac forces between Battleship Hill
and Chunuk Bair. By mid-morning, the Turks had effectively won the
battle for the heights.
Along the lower gullies and ridges,
the battle continued to rage. Fighting was furious and continuous for
the rest of the day as the front line swayed back and forth. Many of the
vital positions on the Second Ridge, taken within hours of the landing,
soon came under Turkish counter attack. The pivotal hill, Baby 700,
which dominated the eventual Anzac front line, changed hands five times
on that first day. It would remain in Turkish hands until the end of the
campaign.
More Anzac forces continued to land.
By 2pm, despite Royal Navy delays, 12,000 men of the 1st Australian
Division were ashore, although the plan had called for all three
brigades to be ashore by 8.30am. About 3000 New Zealand soldiers also
landed, although fewer than half of them would see action that day. By
dusk, almost 16,000 Anzac troops were ashore but the Turks had
effectively checked their advance all day with a total force of less
than 5000 men. After nightfall, the Turks brought up two additional
regiments and the numbers engaged on each side became fairly equal. Any
chance of Allied success had passed.
Over the following days the front-line
stabilised into roughly the positions it would occupy for the next eight
months. The Anzac forces were confined to a narrow enclave less than 3km
long and just over 1km deep, hemmed in by a tangle of ridges, ravines
and gullies.
Myth 2: The Anzac troops were
landed in the wrong place
The most persistent myth of the
Gallipoli campaign is that the Anzacs were landed at the wrong place and
that this led directly to the failure of their assault.
The Australians were intended to land
on a 3000m front at “Z beach”, 1.6km north of Gaba Tepe. When the
first troops were towed ashore in darkness, they found themselves
landing almost 2km north of this spot.
Over the years, there has been much
speculation as to why the Anzacs were landed at “the wrong place”.
The theories involve uncharted currents, defective naval navigation, and
even a late change of plans by the Anzac commander, General William
Birdwood, and a subsequent cover-up. None is convincing. The most likely
explanation is simply that the landing boats lost direction in the dark
and, lacking familiar landmarks, veered northwards.
In fact, the original operation orders
were vague, stating simply that the Anzac force was to land between Gaba
Tepe and a point known as Fisherman’s Hut, 5km to the north. The
actual landing site at Ari Burnu was virtually in the centre of that
line. The first troops were landed on a front of just 800m, with units
bunched up and intermixed, and confronted by a steep range of hills,
rather than the open country they had expected. Their assault was
fragmented from the outset.
Despite these problems, the intended
landing site of Z Beach was never a feasible option. It was heavily
defended by barbed wire and obstructions, two Turkish companies
entrenched in well-sited positions and equipped with machine-guns, and a
number of nearby gun emplacements, ideally positioned to cover the beach
and approaches with artillery fire. Any landing against the
well-prepared defences of Z Beach would surely have resulted in
slaughter.
Ari Burnu, on the other hand, offered
several advantages which outweighed the disadvantages of the harsh
terrain. The Turks had not heavily defended the area as they considered
the country there too difficult for a landing. Troops landing there were
also closer to their intended line of ascent to the main range. Most
importantly, the natural features around the landing beach, soon known
as Anzac Cove, provided the only protected bay on a long, exposed
coastline.
The headlands at either end, and the
heights behind, shielded most of the beach from Turkish observation.
Anzac Cove became the vital base for the landing and storage of supplies
and reinforcements and for the evacuation of the wounded. Without the
tiny cove, the entire Anzac position would have proved untenable.
Myth 3: The Anzac commanders
displayed superior ability to the British commanders
Some British commanders on Gallipoli
seemed to personify military incompetence, most notably General Sir Ian
Hamilton, through his ineffectual command of the combined British
armies; Lieutenant General Aylmer Hunter-Weston in his callous
squandering of the 29th Division; and the doddering Lieutenant General
Sir Frederick Stopford, who oversaw the debacle at Suvla. But criticism
of British commanders has obscured poor command decisions and failures
of command at all levels in the Australian force. Some were apparent
from the first hours of the landing.
Colonel Ewen Sinclair-MacLagan, who
commanded the 3rd Australian Brigade, the first wave to land, made a
crucial decision which thwarted the entire Anzac operation. About 9am on
the morning of the landing, MacLagan unaccountably halted the advance of
his main force on the Second Ridge, just 1km short of their objective.
In an apparent loss of nerve, he diverted the newly arrived 2nd Brigade
troops to reinforce his southern flank rather than adhering to the
original plan and assaulting the heights to the north.
The heights were still open to the
assaulting force but the momentum was lost and never regained. Major
General William Bridges, commander of the 1st Australian Division,
failed to intervene. His inaction confirmed the disintegration of the
assault. Bridges was an administrator whose limitations as a field
commander quickly emerged on April 25. He refused to land the
desperately needed artillery, sending the guns back to the ships. One
gunnery officer later remarked caustically: “The safety of guns was
surely secondary to the proper supporting of the troops already
committed.” After much vacillation, Bridges allowed just one
18-pounder field gun to land and it went into action at dusk.
As night fell, Bridges was
pessimistic. The Anzac forces had not attained even their primary
objectives. They held a barely secure beachhead and less than a third of
the ground they had sought; they had suffered 2000 casualties, including
620 Australians dead; and they were being pressed by the Turks all along
their perimeter.
In a decision which smacked of panic,
Bridges and the corps commander, General Birdwood, proposed the force
re-embark. Even if the required shipping had been available, a night
evacuation under enemy attack might well have become a rout. Hamilton
ordered the Anzac commanders to do the only thing possible: dig in and
consolidate their beachhead.
The test of battle also exposed
weaknesses in some Australian battalion commanders. The commanding
officer of the 9th Battalion, Lieutenant Colonel Lee, went back to the
beach soon after landing, leaving his men scattered and leaderless. He
was evacuated with a sprained ankle and did not return to his battalion
on Gallipoli until July 19, only to be evacuated again two days later.
The Anzac landing did not fail solely
because of poor command decisions or the inadequacies of some officers,
however. The main cause of failure lay in the landing plan and its
ambitious objectives. The Anzac force had too few troops to capture and
hold a defensive line 10km long in rough and hilly terrain; and to cross
the peninsula and secure an objective over exposed lines of
communication, 6km from their beachhead. That such a task was given to a
force of less than two divisions reveals a serious underestimation of
the capabilities of the Turkish forces.
The landing was just the first day in
an eight-month campaign that would claim almost 9000 Australian lives.
The long agony on the peninsula became the most common shared experience
of Australian soldiers on Gallipoli. Men hung on through the months of
siege warfare in the trenches and tunnels, continuously under fire,
exposed to the harsh climate, subsisting on inadequate rations and
weakened by disease. From their experience emerged the Anzac legend –
celebrating the bravery and sacrifice, endurance, resourcefulness, and
humour in adversity of ordinary men – and a story worthy of telling
accurately.
Myth 4: The Australians overran
their objectives
Many soldiers later believed they lost
all chance of victory because, in their eagerness, they overran their
objectives and pushed too far inland. Some senior officers even used
this to explain the failure of the landing. The Australian units
consisted largely of hastily prepared volunteers, trained and equipped
for open warfare. Their enthusiasm, inexperience and their orders to
advance at all costs drove many small groups to advance far from their
main units. Several groups got further inland than any Australians would
for the rest of the campaign, although they did not hold their positions
beyond that first day. Some men reached Scrubby Knoll on Third Ridge –
their initial objective. Others climbed the slopes of Baby 700 and
Battleship Hill but were either cut off or forced to pull back. The
remains of some were still there in 1919 after the war. But these men
were few in number. By the 1930s the official historian had discovered
most of their names. They were not representative of the Anzacs as a
whole. No Australians went beyond the objective set for the landing
force and comparatively few even reached it.
Myth 5: The Anzac soldiers
displayed superior fighting spirit to the British soldiers
The bravery of the majority of
Australian troops on the first day is unquestioned. A New Zealand
soldier who witnessed the Australians on April 25 wrote that they
displayed “no orders, no proper military ‘team work’, no
instructions, just absolute heroism”.
But there had been doubts about the
untested Anzacs. British Secretary of State for War, Lord Kitchener,
considered them “good enough if all that is contemplated is a cruise
around the Sea of Marmora”.
Because of their inexperience, the
Australians were allocated a subsidiary landing operation. The main
landings were made by British regular soldiers of the veteran 29th
Division at five beaches around the toe of the peninsula.
At two landing sites, the British met
heavy opposition. With great bravery and suffering losses of more than
50%, British units fought their way ashore. At the other landing sites,
however, the British failed to press their attacks although they greatly
outnumbered the Turks, and the assaults foundered.
Most Australians fought as well as the
best of the British regulars. But not all were up to the test. As the
day wore on and the fighting intensified above Ari Burnu, some
Australians wavered under Turkish artillery fire. Men began to leave the
firing line and wander back down to the beach.
A British officer later claimed the
Anzac rear areas on the afternoon of the landing were crowded by an
“endless stream” of Australian stragglers, many of them unwounded
men who had shirked the front-line under the strain of their first
experience of battle.
This claim was an exaggeration. By the
late afternoon, however, there were up to 1000 stragglers among the
hundreds of wounded lying on the beach awaiting evacuation. A further
1000 stragglers were in the gullies. Most were not shirking the
front-line. They were inexperienced soldiers who had lost their officers
or their units and who had returned to the beach to get orders. Many
rejoined units in the line.
Through inexperience, Australian
soldiers made mistakes. Some had to be restrained from shooting wildly
at other Australians up on the heights; others leapt from cover to
charge Turkish soldiers, only to be caught when the Turks dropped to the
ground to allow their machine-guns to fire over them and into the
Australians.
Gallipoli was a hard school. By the
end of the campaign, the survivors were consummate professionals. On
April 25, British and Australian soldiers (as many as a third of whom
were British-born themselves) performed comparably. It was claimed of
both that no soldiers could have done better and few could have done as
well.
As the campaign dragged on, Australian
soldiers grew increasingly critical of the British soldiers serving
alongside them. Colonel John Monash (later commander of the Australian
Corps in France) commanded the Australian 4th Brigade during the hapless
night assault on Hill 971 in August 1915. Although Monash’s own
abilities were questioned, he later wrote: “The real cause of our
failure is the poor quality of British troops ... they can’t soldier
for sour apples. They have no grit, no gumption, and they muddle along
and allow themselves to be shot down because they don’t know how to
take cover.”
Whether deserved or not, this became a
common perception among Australian soldiers and part of their story of
Gallipoli.
04/21/2004
Ashley Ekins is a senior historian with the Australian
War Memorial, where he is writing the official history of the Australian
Army in the Vietnam War. He has led the memorial’s battlefield tours
to Gallipoli for nine years, assisting Australians to understand the
events of 1915.