knows about us if we throw every man we can carry in our small craft in one simultaneous rush against selected points, whilst using all the balance in feints against other likely places. Prudence here is entirely out of place. There will be and can be no reconnaissance, no half measures, no tentatives. Several cautious proposals have been set before me but this is neither the time nor the place for paddling about the shore putting one foot on to the beaches with the idea of drawing it back again if it happens to alight upon a land mine. No; we've got to take a good run at the Peninsula and jump plump on—both feet together. At a given moment we must plunge and stake everything on the one hazard.
I would like to land my whole force in one—like a hammer stroke—with the fullest violence of its mass effect—as close as I can to my objective, the Kilid Bahr plateau. But, apart from lack of small craft, the thing cannot be done; the beach space is so cramped that the men and their stores could not be put ashore. I have to separate my forces and the effect of momentum, which cannot be produced by cohesion, must be reproduced by the simultaneous nature of the movement. From the South, Achi Baba mountain is our first point of attack, and the direct move against it will start from the beaches at Cape Helles and Sedd-el-Bahr. As it is believed that the Turks are there in some force to oppose us, envelopment will be attempted by landing detachments in Morto Bay and opposite Krithia village. At the same time, also, the A. and N.Z. Corps will land between Gaba Tepe and Fisherman's Hut to try and seize the high backbone of the Peninsula and cut the line of retreat of the enemy on the Kilid Bahr plateau. In any case, the move is bound to interfere with the movements of Turkish reinforcements towards the toe of the Peninsula. While these real attacks are taking place upon the foot and at the waist of the Peninsula, the knife will be flourished at its neck. Transports containing troops which cannot be landed during the first two days must sail up to Bulair; make as much splash as they can with their small boats and try to provide matter for alarm wires to Constantinople and the enemy's Chief.
So much for Europe. Asia is forbidden but I hold myself free, as a measure of battle tactics, to take half a step Troywards. The French are to land a Brigade at Kum Kale (perhaps a Regiment may do) so as, first, to draw the fire of any enemy big guns which can range Morto Bay; secondly, to prevent Turkish troops being shipped across the Narrows.
With luck, then, within the space of an hour, the enemy Chief will be beset by a series of S.O.S. signals. Over an area of 100 miles, from five or six places; from Krithia and Morto Bay; from Gaba Tepe; from Bulair and from Kum Kale in Asia, as well as, if the French can manage it, from Besika Bay, the cables will pour in. I reckon Liman von Sanders will not dare concentrate and that he will fight with his local troops only for the first forty-eight hours. But what is the number of these local troops? Alas, there is the doubtful point. We think forty thousand rifles and a hundred guns, but, if my scheme comes off, not a tenth of them should be South of Achi Baba for the first two days. Hints have been thrown out that we are asking the French cat to pull the hottest chestnut out of the fire. Not at all. At Kum Kale, with their own ships at their back, and the deep Mendere River to their front, d'Amade's men should easily be able to hold their own for a day or two—all that we ask of them.
The backbone of my enterprise is the 29th Division. At dawn I intend to land the covering force of that Division at Sedd-el-Bahr, Cape Helles and, D.V., in Morto Bay. I tack my D.V. on to Morto Bay because the transports will there be under fire from Asia unless the French succeed in silencing the guns about Troy or in diverting their aim. Whether then our transports can stick it or not is uncertain, like everything else in war, only more so. They must if they can and if they can they must; that is all that can be said at present.
As to the effort to be made to envelop the enemy's right flank along the coast between Helles and Krithia, I have not yet quite fixed on the exact spot, but I am personally bent upon having it done as even a small force so landed should threaten the line of retreat and tend to shake the confidence of any Turks resisting us at the Southernmost point. Some think these cliffs along that North-west coast unclimbable, but I am sure our fellows will manage to scramble up, and I think their losses should be less in doing so than in making the more easy seeming lodgment at Sedd-el-Bahr or Helles. The more broken and precipitous the glacis, the more the ground leading up to the objective is dead. The guns of the Fleet can clear the crest of the cliffs and the strip of sand at their foot should then be as healthy as Brighton. If the Turks down at Helles are nervous, even a handful landing behind their first line (stretching from the old Castle Northwards to the coast) should make them begin to look over their shoulders.
As to the A. and N.Z. landing, that will be of the nature of a strong feint, which may, and we hope will, develop into the real thing. My General Staff have marked out on the maps a good circular holding position, starting from Fisherman's Hut in the North round along the Upper Spurs of the high ridges and following them down to where they reach the sea, a little way above Gaba Tepe. If only Birdwood can seize this line and fix himself there for a bit, he should in due course be able to push on forward to Kojah Dere whence he will be able to choke the Turks on the Southern part of the Peninsula with a closer grip and a more deadly than we could ever hope to exercise from far away Bulair.
We are bound to suffer serious loss from concealed guns, both on the sea and also during the first part of our landing before we can win ground for our guns. That is part of the hardness of the nut. The landings at Gaba Tepe and to the South will between them take up all our small craft and launches. So I am unable to throw the Naval Division into action at the first go off. They will man the transports that sail to make a show at Bulair.
This is the substance of my opening remarks at the meeting: discussion followed, and, at the end, the Navy signified full approval. Neither de Robeck, Wemyss nor Roger Keyes are men to buy pigs in pokes; they wanted to know all about it and to be quite sure they could play their part in the programme. Their agreement is all the more precious. They (the Admirals and the Commodore) are also, I fancy, happier in their minds now that they know for sure what we soldiers are after. Rumours had been busy in the Fleet that we were shaping our course for Bulair. Had that been the basis of my plan, we should have come to loggerheads, I think. As it is, the sailors seem eager to meet us in every possible way. So now we've got to get our orders out.
On maps and charts the scheme may look neat and simple. On land and water, the trouble will begin and only by the closest thought and prevision will we find ourselves in a position to cope with it. To throw so many men ashore in so short a time in the teeth of so rapid a current on to a few cramped beaches; to take the chances of finding drinking water and of a smooth sea; these elemental hazards alone would suffice to give a man grey hairs were we practising a manœuvre exercise on the peaceful Essex coast. So much thought; so much band-o-bast; so much dove-tailing and welding together of naval and military methods, signals, technical words, etc., and the worst punishment should any link in the composite chain give way. And then—taking success for granted—on the top of all this—comes the Turk; "unspeakable" he used to be, "unknowable" now. But we shall give him a startler too. If only our plans come off the Turk won't have time to turn; much less to bring into play all the clever moves foreseen for him by some whose stomachs for the fight have been satisfied by their appreciation of its dangers.
Units of the 29th Division have been coming along in their transports all day. The bay is alive with ships.
11th April, 1915. S.S. "Arcadian." One of those exquisite days when the sunlight penetrates to the heart. Admiral Guépratte, commanding the French Fleet, called at 9.45 and in due course I returned his visit, when I was electrified to find at his cabin door no common sentry but a Beefeater armed with a large battleaxe, dating from about the period of Charlemagne. The Admiral lives quite in the old style and is a delightful personage; very gay and very eager for a chance to measure himself against the enemy. Guépratte, though he knows nothing officially, believes that his Government are holding up their sleeve a second French Division ear-marked Gallipoli! But why bottle up trumps; trumps worth a King's ransome, or a Kaiser's? He gives twice who gives quickly (in peace); he gives tenfold who gives quickly (in war). The devil of it is the French dare not cable home to ask questions, and as for myself, I have not been much encouraged—so far!
During the afternoon Admirals de Robeck and Wemyss came on board to work together with the General Staff on technical details. They too have heard these rumours about