Last Thursday, the 19th of
February
2015, marked the 100th
anniversary of the opening of a campaign in World War One which still courts
controversy among historians today. The
Allied intent to deal a minor faction of the enemy powers they faced a decisive
blow raises questions of the feasibility, or perhaps even the necessity of a diversion
from the main theatre in Europe. Regardless
of its reasons, execution and ultimate failure for the Entente, the conflict to
open the sea lanes of the Dardanelles, known more broadly for the land battles
along the Gallipoli peninsula, would make men, break others and become the
touchstone of national pride for countries of both opposing forces.
As the efforts in this theater comprised
first a naval and then an army battle, it might do well to look at each in
turn. Thus this week will be presented
the situation from the onset to just prior to the main Allied landings in April
of 1915; to be followed next week with a look at the ground campaign.
What should be first determined is the
reasons behind operations in this area, so far removed from France
and
Flanders, were considered and eventually viewed as so important as to commit so
many resources to it. Turkey, the nation
at the centre of the crumbling Ottoman Empire had aligned itself with Germany
and Austro-Hungary in October of 1914.
Long held territorial rivalries between the Ottomans and Russians meant
that Turkey could be counted on to keep Russian forces tied down in the
Caucasus[1]
and hopefully away from the Eastern Front.
German advice to the Ottomans was to close the Dardanelles “which
separates Europe from Asia, is a passage thirty miles long, at its narrowest
less than a mile wide, leading from the Mediterranean into the landlocked Sea
of Marmara.”[2]
Doing so would cut off the “sea route to southern Russia and (prevent)Allied
arms and supplies being sent to the eastern Front”[3]
Making the straights impassible by laying sea mines and revitalising obsolete
heavy gun emplacements on either side of the channel created a difficult set of
circumstances.
There were conflicting interests between
France, Britain and Russia in this region.
Russia wanted Constantinople, the traditional base of power of Orthodox
Christianity. It would also require the
sea lanes open to keep it supplied for war.
The other two partners of the Entente were not initially enthusiastic
about expending effort to pacify the Dardanelles, particularly if a naval force
of British and French ships caused the fall of Constantinople to then be handed
over to Russia as a prize. Such a large
growth of Russian territory would be a dynamic shift in the balance of power in
the area. Above all else the Entente was a union of convenience, rather than of
mutual designs. At the end of the day,
each component nation of the Triple Entente was mostly concerned about their
state of affairs, and deigned to give any advantage to another which would not
be immediately beneficial to their own interests.
From December, 1914, the realisations
that a conclusive decision on the Western Front was not foreseen to be possible
before 1916 began to inspire notions of making attempts to secure a victory
through campaigns in other theatres. Sir
Basil Liddell Hart noted “the growth of the New Armies evoked a natural
question to their use.”[4] By
which he meant if a defensive posture could be maintained in Europe, the large
numbers of wartime volunteers undergoing training might be better used
elsewhere. Liddell Hart, it must be
said, emphatically believed that an opportunity to secure a quick end to the
war was lost by not committing these resources to other campaigns, particularly
against Turkey. His lack of strategic
vision is astounding considering how the Western Front-where he saw his own
wartime service- was barely maintained throughout 1915; and may have certainly
collapsed for want of manpower diverted elsewhere. However,
“By sending Allied warships through the narrow straits of the
Dardanelles to attack Constantinople (now Istanbul), it was hoped that the
Ottomans could be forced out of the war, creating a new supply route to Russia
and helping to secure the valuable oilfields of the Middle East.”[5] Once Turkey had declared for the Central
Powers in 1914, Liddell Hart prophesises, “the best chance for both Britain and
Russia was now in making war, instantly.
The defences of the Dardanelles were obsolete and incomplete.”[6]
He firmly believed that a failure to act against Turkey in 1914 was “a tale of
almost incredible haphazardness on the part of Britain, of equal
short-sightedness on the part of Russia.”[7]
One might inquire of Sir Basil just where the required men, munitions and
material would have been gotten from in the early stages of the war if the
British could only immediately summon and Expeditionary Force of 80,000 which
was barely enough to help France counter the weight of the German advance
through Belgium.
Niall
Ferguson makes the observation that “It is certainly hard to see a plausible
alternative to winning the war on the Western Front.”[8] Distributing military assets, he
acknowledges, to other theatres put this primary theatre at risk. Success at Gallipoli would have benefitted
Russia more so than the British, and a commitment there, if such a victory had occurred
would have continually diverted resources away from Europe. Thinking along
these lines looks at the Dardanelles as a complete mistake. A slightly more objective view reaches a
compromise between the extremes of Liddell Hart and Ferguson.
Working
within the delicate coalition of the Entente meant that Britain was required to
do all it could to achieve its war aims- in the primary theatre; supporting its
allies to ensure their ability to continue the war; and pursuing the territorial
and economic ambitions it had for conditions of victory. Therefore, the
military and political leaders were forced to take certain risks in a balancing
act to see these aims met in a timely and economic fashion. At times, some of these efforts, most notably
at Gallipoli, were abject failures and thence easier to dismiss in the present
as something that ought not to have been done.
Aside from the debate of whether or not the campaign should have been
made, it does little to the memory of the men involved, on both sides, to see
it as a waste. Assigning a label of “mistake
of history” to these events devalues the sacrifices made in the effort to
achieve a victory which proved beyond achievement.
No one at
the highest levels of power could seem to agree on how the operation would
unfold. Idealism on behalf of the Royal
Navy, mostly with Winston Churchill, the First Lord of the Admiralty- the
government’s chief naval representative- was that the navy alone could force
their way through the straights and place
Constantinople under siege in thirty
days.[9] The objective of this naval force would be to
clear mines from the straight, take out the guns defending from the heights and
then manoeuvre through the narrow channel to the Sea of Marmara and put the ancient
city under the gun. Land forces would be used concurrently in
Salonika, with the kind permission of the Greek government. Landing troops there would make it possible
to move into the Balkans and put pressure of both Austro-Hungary and
Turkey. For Churchill, “the Dardanelles
initiative...was to be a naval operation exclusively.”[10]
Admiral “Jackie” Fisher, the First Sea Lord and thus the military head of wanted
to have troops and ships diverted to the Baltic for an amphibious operation against
Germany directly. He would eventually reluctantly agree to Churchill’s idea as
an “experiment.” Field Marshall Sir John
French, Commander in Chief on the Western Front was immovable on the notion
that all available manpower be assigned to his command. “To attack Turkey,”
French had cautioned, “would be to play the German game...namely, to draw off
troops from the decisive spot, which is Germany herself.”[11]
Meanwhile,
a task force of the largest sort ever assembled in the Mediterranean was under
weigh to the Dardanelles. Under the
command of Vice Admiral Sackville Carden, it included a mixture of battleships
and cruisers, many nearly obsolete, but soon to be joined by the superdreadnaught
HMS Queen Elizabeth, a brand new
first rate vessel that outclassed everything afloat. She was capable of 24 knots on four direct
drive oil fuelled turbines, with a range of 8,600 nautical miles at
half-ahead. Her main armament, eight
fifteen-inch guns could lob a shell on ton in weight nearly nineteen miles, and
was backed up by sixteen six-inch guns firing one hundred pound high explosive
armour piercing shells eleven miles.[12]
Carden took a cautious, if not laconic approach to his task which seems
surprising considering it was his assessment that this operation would be only
thirty days in length-or about a mile of progress per day. He brought the high ground at the entrance of
the straight under fire from a safe distance of three miles during the day of
the 19th of February but moved off at night, not returning for five
days. The defenders, now alerted were
reinforced and strengthened their positions.
More sea mines were laid, particularly where the channel
bottlenecked. By the 4th of
March, after prevarications which included Carden removing himself from
command, replaced by Rear Admiral John De Robeck, it was found that “the
Turkish garrison was more determined than had been thought, its guns either too
well placed or too mobile to be easily knocked out, and the minefields too
dense to be swept.”[13]
Churchill was anxious that the fleet press forward; if its objectives could not
be met, he might have to demur to Admiral Fisher’s designs.
On the 18th
of March, one day shy of the thirty day deadline, De Robeck advanced into the
channel and for all expectations, was progressing well. Heavy shelling from ships advancing and
retiring in line abreast seemed to be effective, pounding the rocky heights to
dust and smoke. Return fire was slight
and ineffective. By early afternoon, Turkish
reports on the situation were calling it critical. Many guns along the channel were temporarily
or permanently out of action, and lines of communication were down. Then,
disaster struck the Entente fleet. The
French ship Bouvet struck a mine and
sank quickly, taking almost all hands with her.
A similar fate befell the HMS Irresistible and HMS Ocean. A further three ships were put
out of action and four more were damaged. At a stroke, De Robeck had lost a third of his fleet. The privately owned trawlers assigned to the minesweeping refused to continue while under fire from above. Despite what seemed like terrific damage to the Turkish positions, many were mobile and able to withdraw from the fire zone or were situated such that it was not possible to put fire upon them from seaward. De Robeck recalled his fleet. The sheer amount of mines in the channel,
which would later be determined to be 373, would have to be painstakingly
swept. For that to occur, the guns along
the heights needed to be silenced,. On the 22nd of March, Rear Admiral
De Robeck gave as his recommendation that in order for naval operations to
continue, troops would have to be landed on the peninsula to neutralise the
Turkish guns to allow his minesweepers to operate in safety. More time than had been allotted for this
effort had elapsed. Critically, more
time for Turkish forces to entrench along the heights in anticipation of a
landing had been given. The men earmarked for Salonika, which had turned out to
be a non-starter, were now given over to the effort in the Dardanelles in the
hopes that their efforts might carry the situation to victory.
[3] Smithsonplanning.au;
“Monumental Moments”-from “Cobbers-Stories of Gallipoli 1915” by Jim Haynes,
ABC Books 2005