ON GALLIPOLI

Evening Star, Issue 16994, 17 March 1919, Page 4

ON GALLIPOLI

FAMOUS BATTLEFIELDS VISITED,

WHERE SLEEP THE BRAVE. [By H. Collinson Owen, in tho London ‘ Daily Telegraph ’.] Tho final art to one of the greatest dramas of the war was enacted on November 9, when, in accordance with the trms of the armistice with Turkey, British troops landed unopposed to occupy the Gallipoli Peninsula. The contrast between this landing and that other far mous and heroic one of 1915 was as great as can be imagined. Our men landed on a deserted peninsula, peopled only by British dead and by great memories that will live so long as our race endnj-es. The stepped ashore immediately beneath tho bows of the River Clyde, that gallant and battered tramp from out of whose sides our men streamed under a storm of machine-gun bullets. But there was nothing to oppose the landing this time. On the contrary, at the summit of the steeply-rising beach, which we captured at such heavy cost, stood a little group of Turks, looking down quietly on British troops disembarking . They were Turkish artillerymen, waiting to hand over the heavy guns of Cape Helles, which have for long been standing ready in anticipation of a renewed British attack on the Dardanelles. GRIM REMINDERS. We left Mndros at four in the morning to see the landing, and arrived off Capo Helles about nine. Lines of black drifters, and mine-sweepers, including a very efficient new type just out from Homo, were cruising about on their hazardous task of sweeping lanes through almost countless thousands of mines laid both by ourselves and by tho enemy. The work of gathering in this dea-dly barrier' has been much greater than anticipated, and is the sole reason for the delay in tho passage of tho allied fleet to Constantinople. Tie first outward sign that we were in such historic waters and approaching such hallowed ground was the sight of a mast sticking up from the water off the rocky coast of Imbros. This marked the spot where the big monitor Raglan and tho smaller one M2B wont down when standing np hopelessly against the Goshen and the Breslau at the time of their ill-starred sortie last year. Later in the day, up towards the Narrows, we saw the remains of submarine El 5, which ran ashore when trying to ascend the straits, and -was gallantly torpedoed from a launch by our own men under heavy fire; and a little further up the rusty 'bottom of the Turkish battleship Messudieh, looking like an immense turtle, marked one of our submarine successes that caused much consternation to the enemy at tho time. The destroyer took us in close to Capo Holies, and everybody on board gazed silently at the barren and repellent coast that has made such a tragic page in our history. Some there were on board who had been through most of those events, and who felt strangely indeed in approaching so calmly and easily this “ corner of a foreign field that is for ever Engand,” that was won and lost again at such a price. OVER THE FIELDS OF THE DEAD. We anchored just off *W ” Beach, where the River Clyde was run ashore, and immediately outside the breakwater formed by the stripped skeleton of an. ancient French hattleshio, the Massena, and an old hulk of a Messatrories _ Maritime steamer, which were grounded in this spot late in tho occupation of the Peninsula, in order to form a harbor against winter storms, is the landing of the troops was not expected for some hours it was decided ws should go ashore and visit the ground which is compact of so much British history. It was strange indeed to set foot on that barren shore, realising how much we had paid to take it, and find it now completely deserted. The Turkish troops occupying the Peninsula had been removed some days before, and for the time being not a single Turk was to be seen, V Beach along_ to Cape Helles, and so on to W Beach, is as unlovely and barren a strip of coast line as can 'he imagined. One wondered again how we had ever been able to land on it, and bow we had been able to live and remain there. Above us, to our right, were the remains of the old fort of Sedd-el-Bahr, which the fleet knocked to pieces in the first bombardnent. We walked up tho steep ground which had been, held by massed machine guns and Turkish riflemen, passed .over old trenches, both our own and the enemy's, and saw new ones constructed in case of the further attack which for months past the Turks had been expecting. We walked to the top and beyond the first ridge, and looked down over the broad sweep of a valley which dipped and rose again up to tho rounded crest of that sinister bill, Achi Baba, “a natural fortress that anybody ought to hold,” ns a gunner oflicer remarked. Every yard oi the ground wo traversed holds the remains of our dead, but there were no signs of graves or crosses to bo seen. We returned through the ruins of Sodd-el-Babr village, and just below tho front a French officer pointed out the spot where General Gourand, the victor of Champagne, was wounded when visiting a French hospital.