Are there not other alternatives than sending our armies to chew barbed wire in Flanders
- Winston Churchill
HE was cocky, confident and the prime minister’s pet.
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Winston Churchill was out to make his mark as First Lord of the Admiralty.
It was February, 1915 and World War I had been raging for seven months.
Fighting between British and French troops and the Germans had reached a stalemate on the Western Front.
Their Russian allies were in a similar bind on the Eastern Front.
Churchill asked: “Are there not other alternatives than sending our armies to chew barbed wire in Flanders?”
The “Dardanelles plan” seemed to fit the bill.
Evolving idea
The idea of a military assault on Turkey had been knocking about the halls of Westminster and Whitehall for some time.
In January, 1915 Lord Kitchener, secretary of state for war and one of the few military men who predicted a long campaign, approached Churchill with an idea of attacking the Turks, with the ultimate aim of relieving pressure on the hard-pressed Russians.
It involved invading the Gallipoli Peninsula (then under German and Ottoman control) through the sea route of the Dardanelles strait, a vital stretch of water connecting the Black Sea with the Aegean.
Churchill became convinced of the success of the Dardanelles Plan.
It would be a campaign that would win over cabinet colleagues (who already found the bumptious aristocrat arrogant and unable to accept responsibility) and maintain the faith of prime minister Herbert Asquith.
Churchill saw the plan as exclusively a naval campaign, using battleships, minesweepers and submarines to sail up the arrow strait. Once on the Gallipoli peninsula, troops would land and conquer Turkey, eventually opening the sea route to Constantinople and providing support to Russian forces.
An advantage was the Australian and New Zealand forces, which had not yet been committed to the Western Front, could be used in the campaign to attack Turkey.
He convinced his war cabinet colleagues and by March, 1915, British and French battleships were sailing up the Dardanelles Strait, having bombed Turkish defences at the mouth of the straits.
Coo-ee call-out
About this time, members of the First Australian Imperial Force were completing training in Egypt under the shadows of the pyramids and Sphinx.
The young nation’s response to the call for action at the outbreak of war had been remarkable; about 50,000 Australians had voluntarily enlisted.
Temporary camps were set up across the nation to accommodate their training, before the troops headed to England as part of the Allied forces.
But, in early 1915, England had neither the equipment nor the means to accommodate and train the “diggers”, so they were re-directed to Egypt. It was from there they were given the command to serve at Gallipoli.
When the Australian and New Zealand troops were called to those fatal shores under Churchill’s Dardanelles plan, they had often trained for eight hours a day, six days a week.
They were ready for battle.
Sea failure
Hardly had those first Australian troops left Egypt than Churchill’s naval campaign came unstuck.
The strait had been heavily mined and after losing three ships, British and French vessels were forced to temporarily withdraw.
It was obvious the Dardanelles would not be won exclusively by the navy; a simultaneous ground attack was planned for the Gallipoli Peninsula; the lads from Egypt were sent straight there.
On the beach
Fear and confusion must have run through the minds of those first diggers as they disembarked on the thin strip of beach known as Gaba Tepe on April 25, 1915.
It was still dark and chilly as the boats disgorged about 20,000 Australian soldiers just before dawn on the Gallipoli peninsula.
By nightfall, 747 of those soldiers would lie dead on the beach or close by in the surrounding steep cliffs. Churchill’s campaign had under-estimated the determination of the enemy Turks, under the command of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk.
His soldiers hid in rocky outcrops above the narrow beaches, picking off the first wave of soldiers who landed at Gaba Tepe, later Anzac Cove.
The Australians and New Zealanders fought on.
They were tougher than many and some had previous experience in theatres of war.
These “worthy sons of the Empire” fought a piecemeal battle under mixed orders.
The Turks, perched atop the surrounding hills, took pot-shots at the troops.
Plans were quickly discarded.
Despite the seeming impossibility of Churchill’s war plan, to capture the Dandanelles and conquer Constantinople, fighting on the peninsula dragged on for another eight-and-a-half months.
In that time, 44,070 Allied troops were killed, 8709 of whom were Australians.
It was an ignoble defeat for a newly established country.
But it spawned a legend commemorated to this day.
Anzac Day salutes the courage and valour of those soldiers who fought at Gallipoli.
They made up the allied invasion of nearly one million soldiers during the offensive, fighting alongside troops from New Zealand, Britain, Canada, France and India.
Between a third and a half of them died; the Turks lost 86,000 soldiers during the campaign.
More than 100 years on and the defeat at Gallipoli continues to serve as an historical landmark.
Downfall
The Dardenelles plan haunted Churchill.
In hatching it, he failed to consult commander-in-chief of the fleet, Admiral Jellicoe, and naval and military gunnery experts.
It was Churchill’s failure alone and the rising star soon resigned from the Admiralty.
But the sacrifice of the “Knights of Gallipoli” were honoured at the first Anzac Day, held on April 25, 1916.
Then, 2000 Australian and New Zealand troops marched through London.
In Australia, every state held ceremonies to honour the fallen. These days, the site known as Gallipoli is serene and sacred to many Australians.
It is also the site of more than 70 cemeteries and countless mass graves.