The
foundering of the hopes of Greek participation at the Dardanelles after Admiral
Kerr’s discouraging report of 9 September 1914 seemed, for the moment, to
spell the end of any Allied attempt to force the Straits. Although one of the
earliest dispatches to mention the possibility of forcing the Dardanelles
(Ambassador Mallet’s telegram of 18 August)
referred only to the fleet, by September Churchill had received opinions from
various naval and military sources on the spot – Kerr, Limpus, Cunliffe-Owen
– all of whom agreed that any attempt must be accompanied by military
operations. Churchill himself was later to argue that, at the time, he no longer
considered the forcing of the Straits by ships alone a practicable proposition;
yet this is precisely what he subsequently attempted to do. Although the saga of
the ‘drift to the Dardanelles’ has been told before, new evidence, never
before used, now makes it possible to offer an alternative interpretation in
which Churchill’s main aim, initially, was to humour Fisher and so prevent his
resignation at a critical juncture; and in which information about Goeben
plays a far greater part than previously acknowledged.
There is no doubt that the Dardanelles was one obvious place at which to
assault the Turks; but it was not the only one. When emphasizing the dangers on
27 August 1914 Cunliffe-Owen, the British Military Attaché in Constantinople,
advocated operations in the Persian Gulf or Syria, ‘where Turkish forces are
almost negligible.’ What then were the attractions of the Dardanelles? For
Churchill, who ascribed to the commonly held belief that, by cutting out the
heart – Constantinople – the extremities would soon die, they were fourfold:
first, the Straits offered the quickest route by which the Turkish capital could
be threatened; second, any proposed operations re-opened the possibility of
bringing Greece in; third, the fact that the navy would be involved prominently;
and, lastly and more speculatively, it was the shortest distance to reach and
attack Goeben. This last point should
not be overlooked: as punishment for making the First Lord look a fool the Turks
were subjected to the fatuous bombardment of the Dardanelles forts in early
November. By then the prospect of Greek aid had withered and Goeben
was busy in the Black Sea. Churchill might have written off Turkey (despite his
speculative statement to Asquith on the last day of 1914 that he had wanted
Gallipoli attacked on the Turkish declaration of war)
had it not been for a lucky shot from one of Carden’s ships. In evidence at
the Dardanelles Commission Churchill later stated:
It
is obvious that the ideal action against Turkey if she came into the War, was at
the earliest possible moment to seize the Gallipoli Peninsula by an amphibious
surprise attack and to pass a fleet into the [Sea of] Marmora …When at the end
of August I formed the opinion that our diplomacy would fail to keep Turkey from
joining our enemies, I immediately began to make enquiries from the War Office
about the possibility of such an operation…I was perfectly well aware that the
right and obvious method of putting a British fleet into the Marmora was by an
amphibious attack on the Gallipoli Peninsula. This view was general at the
Admiralty — all my advisers shared it. Indeed it was so obvious, that it
scarcely needed discussion, but for this an army was wanted, and no army was
forthcoming…Like
most other people, I had held the opinion that the days of forcing the
Dardanelles were over; and I had even recorded this opinion in a Cabinet paper
in 1911. But this war had brought many surprises. We had seen fortresses reputed
throughout Europe to be impregnable collapsing after a few days’ attack by
field armies without a regular siege…
Furthermore,
whatever else he may subsequently have said, when asked at the Commission
hearings to explain the object of the November bombardment, Churchill answered
that, as far as he could recollect, it ‘was to see what the effect of the
ships’ guns would be on the outer forts — whether they would injure them.’
How much importance, Churchill was then asked, did he attach to what had
happened at Liége and Antwerp? The then former First Lord, who had come in for
much criticism as a result of his forlorn attempt to hold Antwerp in October
1914 at the head of the half-trained Royal Naval Division, replied, ‘Certainly
the destruction of the first class fortresses in a few days by the fire of heavy
howitzers was a great and surprising fact.’ Churchill also maintained that a
gunnery expert at the Admiralty had examined the effect of artillery fire
against the forts.
The destruction of Fort Sedd-el-Bahr on 3 November had a rousing effect
not only on those who witnessed it, but also in London.
Churchill promptly began to press Admiral Carden for further ways of injuring
the enemy; the Admiral could only suggest another bombardment, to which
Churchill concurred on 16 November before, apparently, being dissuaded by
Admiral Oliver who was concerned that the ships’ guns might not have enough
life remaining to use full charges.
A week later, at what became the first meeting of the ‘War Council’
following Asquith’s desire to have ‘a small conclave on the Naval and
Military situation’,
Churchill’s advocacy of the Dardanelles operation was confined to proposing a
feint to relieve pressure on Egypt in case of a Turkish attack. An attack on the
Gallipoli Peninsula, he admitted then, ‘was a very difficult operation
requiring a large force.’
Yet, less than a fortnight later, Asquith confessed privately that Winston’s
‘volatile mind is at present set on Turkey & Bulgaria, & he wants to
organise a heroic adventure against Gallipoli and the Dardanelles: to which I am
altogether opposed.’
What had happened?
In truth it is hard to see: Churchill had blown hot and cold on the issue
since the start of the war. His attempts to initiate planning for an attack
early in September fell foul of a lack of enthusiasm at the War Office
and the internal struggles in Athens. Equally, his bizarre scheme to ship 50,000
Russians from Archangel or Vladivostock to Gallipoli, was quickly discounted.
Then, in October, following the receipt of a further appraisal from Cunliffe-Owen,
in which the Military Attaché deprecated naval action alone, General Callwell,
the D.M.O. (according to his memoirs) outlined the dangers in a meeting with
Churchill and Fisher.
The preliminary bombardment of 3 November was borne as much out of frustration
as for any other motive. It would not be until three days after Asquith’s
comment above that Sturdee’s victory at the Falkland Islands on 8 December
removed the last major German surface threat from the seas, leaving only such
minor units as Dresden and Konigsberg to
be dealt with. This, in turn, freed a number of British ships which were not
necessarily required in the North Sea and now lacked a rôle. Nevertheless, it
was clear to Churchill at this time that troops would not be available to
participate in any Gallipoli operations,
and besides, as he admitted to Fisher when congratulating the Admiral after the
Falkland Islands’ victory, ‘I am shy of landings under fire — unless there
is no other way.’
Perhaps it was simply the case that, having mentioned the option of a
Dardanelles attack, and having appreciated the difficulty involved, Churchill
then set to work to overcome that difficulty.
The Turkish cruiser Messudieh
Shortly after, however, a number of events conspired to persuade
Churchill that a method might be possible. Early on the morning of Sunday 13
December 1914 the British submarine B.11, commanded by Lieutenant Norman
Holbrook, set off up the Straits ‘with a view to reaching Tchanak, if
possible, and torpedoing the Lily Rickmers
[on which German staff officers were believed to be living] or any other hostile
vessel as opportunity might offer.’ B.11, which had been selected for the
hazardous attempt as her batteries had been renewed more recently that the other
submarines, was fitted with special guards projecting from her side designed to
throw clear ‘mooring wires of mines, or other obstructions likely to foul the
boat.’ At 9.40 a.m. Holbrook sighted ‘a large 2-funnelled vessel painted
grey’ which he soon ascertained was flying the Turkish ensign; thirteen
minutes later he fired one torpedo at the target which turned over and sank
within ten minutes. It was the cruiser Messudieh.
Believing the attack presaged a general Anglo-French attempt to force the
Dardanelles, reinforcements and German technical officers were rushed from
Constantinople, including Admiral von Usedom who spent ‘8 useless days
waiting’ before returning to the capital in time for Christmas.
Holbrook’s exploit demonstrated what could be done; then, three days later, a
confidential report was received in the Admiralty from Constantinople. According
to this the Turkish fleet, including Goeben,
had come off badly after an encounter with the Russian Black Sea fleet:
the after guns of the battle cruiser had been put out of action, her stern was
riddled with shell and she had four large holes in her starboard side;
casualties had been heavy and 80 of her crew were known to have been buried in
the German Embassy grounds at Therapia. More important than this, it was
reported that on 4 December what was described as a ‘slight mutiny’ had
broken out on board a Turkish ship after the German officers had received their
salary but the Turkish crew had not; Breslau
had to be summoned to stand nearby, ready to open fire if necessary to quell the
mutiny.
Then, beginning on the evening of 18 December, an entertaining charade
was played out in the Gulf of Alexandretta by the crew of HMS Doris, under Captain Larken. Ordered to attempt to interrupt the
flow of material along the Hejaz Railway which, just north of Alexandretta, ran
by the sea Larken put a party ashore that, undetected, cut the telegraph and
loosened some rails resulting in the derailment of a south-bound train. On the
following afternoon, guided by the 1907 Hague Convention, Larken delivered an
ultimatum demanding the surrender of all engines and military equipment in the
town under threat of bombardment. The reply, in the name of Djemal Pasha who had
been transferred from Constantinople to Syria as Commander-in-Chief, threatened,
in return, reprisals against British subjects held in detention. Larken warned
that such behaviour would be punished by the victorious allies at the end of the
war. In the meantime another landing party had destroyed a railway bridge,
effectively stopping all traffic. By the morning of the 22nd Larken’s
ultimatum had been accepted — but not before the Turks had removed everything
of military value from the town except two locomotives which the deputy governor
was quite prepared to destroy provided the British supplied the dynamite! Larken
thereupon sent a party ashore, under the command of the Torpedo Lieutenant,
armed with gun-cotton which could not be entrusted to the Turks. The Governor
relented and allowed the party to lay the charges but, he maintained, Turkish
dignity would only be assuaged if a Turkish officer fired the charges. The
stalemate which ensued was only broken after some hours by formally inducting
the Torpedo Lieutenant into the Turkish service for the rest of the day, at
which the engines finally met their fate.
Holbrook, Larken and the intelligence report all combined to make the
Turks appear a less than formidable enemy.
At the same time the stalemate on the Western Front – which already seemed
certain to descend into a long, bloody war of attrition – led to certain key
members of the War Council considering alternative strategies which were then
worked up into memoranda; finally, acting as the catalyst, came an appeal from
the supposedly hard-pressed Russians. The momentum had begun. On Christmas Day
1914, in an attempt to clear his own mind, Maurice Hankey, the Secretary of the
War Council, began to compose his memorandum; although not complete until the
28th, it became known as the Boxing Day
Memorandum. When finished, Hankey ‘rather fancied the result’ of his
effort and showed it to Callwell at the War Office and Oliver at the Admiralty,
both of whom proffered criticisms. Then it went to Admiral Fisher and General
Sir James Wolfe Murray, both members of the War Council; from there it went to
both Churchill and Kitchener and, eventually, Asquith.
Independently both Churchill and Lloyd George also committed their thoughts to
paper.
The spectre that drove them all was simple: ‘I agree, and I fear that
everybody must agree,’ Arthur Balfour informed Hankey, ‘that the notion of
driving the Germans back from the West of Belgium to the Rhine by successfully
assaulting and capturing one line of trenches after another seems a very
hopeless affair.’
Aware that great forces – the new armies then being raised and trained –
would become available by March 1915, Hankey looked for some other outlet for
their effective employment. To circumvent the impasse on the Western front
Hankey investigated two methods: either some new invention which would give the
Allies the upper hand, or else an attack at a subsidiary point which would
compel the enemy ‘so to weaken his forces that an advance becomes possible’
against his main forces. Of the former, Hankey put forward a number of
suggestions — the development of large, heavy, motorized rollers driven by a
caterpillar which would crush the barbed wire and allow troops to advance in its
wake; bullet proof shields or armour; grapnels powered by rockets to snare the
enemy barbed wire; and a special pump or catapult to throw oil or petrol into
enemy trenches.
Turning to his second method, the subsidiary attack, Hankey was forced to
admit that ‘the great Russian diversion has not proved sufficiently powerful
to cause the enemy to denude his forces on the western front to a dangerous
extent’, while the ‘greatest asset’ Britain possessed in the war – the
ability to exert economic pressure – was not only slow to operate but was
hindered by the enormous trade Holland and Denmark were conducting with Germany.
‘Germany can perhaps be struck most effectively and with the most lasting
results on the peace of the world’, Hankey argued, ‘through her allies, and
particularly through Turkey.’ Turkey would be the perfect illustration that
any country choosing to ally herself with Germany against the ‘great sea
power’ would be doomed to disaster; this would be a salutary object lesson for
the Balkan states in trying to overcome their mutual distrust. Hankey continued:
…21.
But supposing Great Britain, France, and Russia, instead of merely inciting
these races to attack Turkey and Austria were themselves to participate actively
in the campaign, and to guarantee to each nation concerned that fair play should
be rendered. If the whole of the Balkan States were to combine there should be
no difficulty in securing a port on the Adriatic, with Bosnia and Herzegovina,
and part of Albania, for Servia; Epirus, Southern Albania, and the islands, for
Greece; and Thrace for Bulgaria. The difficult Dardanelles question might
perhaps be solved by allowing more than one nation to occupy the north side and
by leaving Turkey on the south, the Straits being neutralised.
22.
If Bulgaria, guaranteed by the active participation of the three Great Powers,
could be induced to co-operate, there ought to be no insuperable obstacle to the
occupation of Constantinople, the Dardanelles, and Bosphorus. This would be of
great advantage to the allies, restoring communication with the Black Sea,
bringing down at once the price of wheat, and setting free the much-needed
shipping locked up there.
23.
It is presumed that in a few months time we could, without endangering the
position in France, devote three army corps, including one original first line
army corps, to a campaign in Turkey, though sea transport might prove a
difficulty. This force, in conjunction with Greece and Bulgaria, ought to be
sufficient to capture Constantinople.
24.
If Russia, contenting herself with holding the German forces on an entrenched
line, could simultaneously combine with Servia and Roumania in an advance into
Hungary, the complete downfall of Austria-Hungary could simultaneously be
secured.
25.
Failing the above ambitious project, an attack in Syria would prove a severe
blow to Turkey, particularly if combined with an advance from Basra to Bagdad by
a reinforced army.
The
insuperable problem with Hankey’s ‘ambitious project’ remained the
difficulty of getting the Balkan States to act in concert.
Hankey also tacitly admitted that the war would end in stalemate so that,
‘Failing the invasion of Germany itself, which, in accordance with correct
strategical principle, has hitherto been our aim, it is suggested that we should
endeavour by the means proposed to get assets into our hands wherewith to
supplement the tremendous asset of sea power and its resultant economic
pressure, wherewith to ensure favourable terms of peace when the enemy has had
enough of the war.’
Churchill’s memorandum took the form of a letter to Asquith on 29
December in which he posed the same question as Hankey: with the Allies’
growing military power ‘Are there not other alternatives than sending our
armies to chew barbed wire in Flanders? Further, cannot the power of the Navy be
brought more directly to bear upon the enemy? If it is impossible or unduly
costly to pierce the German lines on existing fronts, ought we not, as new
forces come to hand, to engage him on new frontiers, and enable the Russians to
do so too?’ As opposed to Hankey, however, Churchill’s suggestion for a
flanking operation involved Britain gaining command of the Baltic after first
having invaded Schleswig-Holstein and forced the accession of Denmark to the
allies. This, in turn, depended upon the capture of an advanced base for which
purposes, Churchill argued, the island of Borkum was ideal.
The Baltic scheme had long been a pet project of Fisher’s,
but now Churchill discovered that his First Sea Lord had gone cool on the idea
— in almost daily contact with Jellicoe, Fisher had become imbued with the
latter’s caution,
while complaining at the same time of Churchill’s monopoly of the initiative
and threatening, vaguely, about having to clear out.
Besides, Fisher was already aware of the great flaw in the scheme. On 14
December, over lunch in the Admiralty, Fisher had informed Sir Julian Corbett,
the naval historian, of his Baltic proposals and, five days later, Corbett
forwarded a memorandum on the subject. A cardinal feature of the scheme was that
the whole of the battle fleet would be required, which would then leave the
North Sea denuded. To overcome this, it was proposed to ‘sow the North Sea
with mines on such a scale that naval operations in it would become
impossible.’
As Corbett pointed out in an accompanying letter:
I
have endeavoured to state your case for the Baltic as well as I can — setting
out such objections as occurred to me and meeting them — to show the
difficulties had been considered. There is one — unfortunately rather obvious
— objection which I have not mentioned because I don’t see how to meet it.
It is this — if it is possible for us to make the North Sea untenable with
mines, is it not even more possible for the Germans to play the same game in the
Baltic? Perhaps you can see a way of meeting this — it is sure to be taken by
those who have no stomach for your plan.
Fisher
therefore knew, by the end of December, that the game was up as far as his
version of the Baltic scheme was concerned. Churchill later maintained that,
although
the First Sea Lord’s strategic conceptions were centred in the entry of the
Baltic, and although he was in principle favourable to the seizure of Borkum as
a preliminary, I did not find in him that practical, constructive and devising
energy which in other periods of his career and at this period on other subjects
he had so abundantly shown. I do not think he ever saw his way clearly through
the great decisive and hazardous steps which were necessary for the success of
the operation. He spoke a great deal about Borkum, its importance and its
difficulties; but he did not give that strong professional impulsion to the
staffs necessary to secure the thorough exploration of the plan. Instead, he
talked in general terms about making the North Sea impassable by sowing mines
broadcast and thus preventing the Germans from entering it while the main
strength of the British Fleet was concentrated in the Baltic. I could not feel
any conviction that this would give us the necessary security…Therefore, while
the First Sea Lord continued to advocate in general terms the entry of the
Baltic, I persistently endeavoured to concentrate attention upon the practical
steps necessary to storm and seize the island of Borkum, and thus either block
in the German Fleet or bring it out to battle…
Fisher,
having become only too aware of the suicidal nature of the Baltic scheme, and
despite Corbett’s reservations, had put forward the mining counter-proposal in
an attempt to divert Churchill. However, as Jellicoe later admitted, ‘We had
not a hundredth part of the mines necessary for such a scheme’.
Exasperated, Churchill patiently informed Fisher on 22 December that ‘You must
take an island and block them in, à la
Wilson; or you must break the [Kiel] canal locks, or you must cripple their
Fleet in a general action. No scattering of mines will be any substitute for
these alternatives. The Baltic is the only
theatre in which naval action can appreciably shorten the war. Denmark must
come, and the Russians be let loose on Berlin.’ There would be, Churchill
added plaintively, four good Russian dreadnoughts to assist.
On the morning of 29 December Hankey had a twenty minute talk with
Fisher, who complained that both Churchill and the C.O.S., Admiral Oliver, were
so strongly opposed to the mining operation that he could do nothing. Fisher
therefore asked Hankey ‘to write something on the subject’ — however, not
only did Hankey not wish to intervene ‘in so domestic an Admiralty
question’, he had, of course, just completed his own strategical analysis.
In any event, Admiral Oliver, who had seen Hankey’s memorandum in draft, soon
became a convert to his cause after having been dismayed by the discussions of
strategy at the Admiralty. Churchill, Oliver declared, wanted to capture Borkum
and Emden; Fisher to send the Grand Fleet into the Baltic to convey a Russian
Army from Petrograd to land on the Pomeranian coast and march on Berlin; Wilson
to bombard Heligoland with pre-Dreadnoughts prior to capturing it. ‘I hated
all these projects’, Oliver later admitted, ‘but had to be careful what I
said. The saving clause was that two of the three were always violently opposed
to the plan of the third under discussion.’
‘There are three phases of the naval war,’ Churchill had informed
Asquith on 29 December: ‘first the clearance of the seas and the recall of the
foreign squadrons, that is nearly completed; second, the closing of the Elbe —
that we have now to do; and third, the domination of the Baltic — that would be decisive.’ The First Lord also pointedly referred to
the difficulties involved in co-operation between the Admiralty and War Office
of which Asquith was ‘fully aware’.
The Prime Minister received ‘the very interesting memoranda’ of Churchill
and Hankey on 30 December. ‘There is here’, he wrote to Venetia Stanley
while on the train to London to attend a Cabinet, ‘a good deal of food for
thought. I am profoundly dissatisfied with the immediate prospect — an
enormous waste of life & money day after day with no appreciable
progress…I don’t see the way to a decisive change before March, but I am
sure that we ought to begin at once to devise, in consultation with the French
& the Russians, a diversion on a great & effective scale.’
By the following day Churchill had seen Hankey’s memorandum and discussed it
with him, finding that they were ‘substantially in agreement and our
conclusions are not incompatible.’ Nevertheless, although admitting that he
had always favoured an attack on Gallipoli, Churchill spent the rest of the day
composing a justification for the Borkum operation.
Lloyd George had also been busy. In a memorandum as wide-ranging as
Hankey’s, the Chancellor attempted to reconcile the stalemate on the western
front with what, he admitted, was the political and military necessity of
‘winning a definite victory somewhere’. Labelling the Baltic Scheme (‘This
proposal is associated with the name of Lord Fisher’) as being ‘very
hazardous’ he proposed instead two independent operations ‘which would have
the common purpose of bringing Germany down by the process of knocking the props
under her.’ It was typical of the man that Lloyd George had been seduced by
this common fallacy as, far from being props, the German satellites were instead
a drain on her resources; unaware of this, he advocated an attack upon Austria,
in conjunction with the Serbs, Greeks and Roumanians, combined with an attack on
Turkey. For the latter, Lloyd George isolated a number of conditions that would
have to be fulfilled: the force employed should not be so large as to weaken the
offensive in the main theatre; lines of communication should be short to
conserve troops, which necessitated an attack near the sea; conversely Turkish
lines of supply should be made as long as possible; there should be a chance of
winning a dramatic victory; and ‘it would be a great advantage from this point
of view if it were in territory which appeals to the imagination of the people
as a whole.’ Lloyd George was aware of the latest intelligence which indicated
that the Turks had amassed a force of 80,000 troops in Syria ready to march upon
the Suez Canal. He suggested therefore that once the Turks had entangled
themselves in this venture, a force of 100,000 allied troops should be landed in
Syria, behind the Turkish Army, to cut it off: ‘A force of 80,000 Turks would
be wiped out and the whole of Syria would fall into our hands.’ The Chancellor
did not speculate on what view the French might take of such a scheme.
Asquith was impressed with this memorandum — so impressed he decided to
take it, along with Churchill’s ‘Baltic’ memorandum, to Venetia Stanley to
‘talk it all over’ with his paramour. Almost incidentally it would seem, he
decided to summon the War Council for Thursday 7 and Friday 8 January to review
the situation.
Nothing could better epitomize the higher conduct of the war under Asquith’s
tutelage. Churchill had argued, rightly, on 31 December, that the issues to be
decided were so important that the War Council should meet daily ‘for a few
days next week. No topic can be pursued to any fruitful result at weekly
intervals.’
Yet, while Asquith agreed to convene the War Council for two consecutive days,
he seemed more pleased that this would necessitate his return to London from
Kent, where he had been staying; he would, therefore, be near to Miss Stanley
for most of the week, as there was also a Cabinet scheduled for the Wednesday.
‘I love the prospect’, he wrote, ‘for I shall be in close touch with my
dearest & wisest counsellor.’
Hankey, keen to recruit allies to his cause, sent Balfour his
‘invitation’ to the meetings on 2 January. ‘I think’, he enthused,
‘the discussion will be of great importance’, adding,
I
find that there is a very general feeling that we must find some new plan of
hitting Germany. You have already received my own ideas on the subject. The
First Lord has also written a paper or a letter to the P.M. pressing his own
favourite plan with some important extensions. Mr Lloyd George has also written
to the P.M. urging developments, — rather on my lines, I gather. Meanwhile my
information is that Italy and Greece are rather cooling down. It seems to me
that we ought first to make up our own minds & then to invite our allies to
a round table conference. I am fairly certain that the Prime Minister means to
ventilate the various proposals at Thursday’s meeting, with a view to making
up the Government’s mind, so I feel sure that you will think it worth while to
attend…
As
the time approached in London for a decision to be made, another fillip to the
growing clamour for operations in the East was provided by events in Russia. On
30 December 1914 the head of the British Military Mission in Russia,
Major-General Sir John Hanbury-Williams, was summoned by the Grand Duke Nicholas
and informed that the situation in the Caucasus was serious; the Turks, having
pushed back the initial Russian advance in November, now stood poised with an
army of 100,000. The Russian C-in-C requested ‘help by a demonstration of some
kind which would alarm the Turks, and thus ease the position of the Russians on
the Caucasus front.’ Williams, with a ‘pretty shrewd idea’ that ‘our
armies were not yet strong enough to spare sufficient men for a military
expedition’, asked instead if a naval demonstration would be of any use. When
the Grand Duke ‘jumped at it gladly’
the General went immediately to Sir George Buchanan who telegraphed Grey on New
Year’s Day, 1915. The Turks, Buchanan explained, had commenced an enveloping
movement and the Russian commander in the field was pressing most urgently for
reinforcements, a plea the Grand Duke was forced, for the moment, to resist as
he was ‘determined to proceed with his present plans against Germany and keep
them unaltered.’
As Grey’s paramount aim was to keep the Germans pinned down in the East, the
implications of Buchanan’s report became frighteningly apparent — a serious
reverse against the Turks might compel the Russians to weaken the Allies’
Eastern front by diverting troops to the Caucasus, especially the Fourth
Siberian Army Corps which was on its way to Warsaw but which, Grey was warned,
‘in ordinary course it would be natural to send…to Turkish front.’
The enveloping movement mentioned by Buchanan had commenced on 21
December when Enver himself took command of the Third Army with the intention of
cutting the Russian line of communication to their main base at Kars, before
taking Kars itself, then Ardahan and Batum, as a preliminary to a full scale
invasion of the Caucasus. The key position was Sarikamish; by 26 December, in
appalling weather conditions, the Turks had managed to occupy the town. Victory
was almost theirs until Enver attempted one manoeuvre too many, a wheeling
movement in the teeth of a blizzard which gave the Russians the chance to
counter-attack. In the ensuing battle almost a third of the Turkish force froze
to death; only 12,000 men (including, inevitably, Enver himself) managed to
escape. The danger to the Russian army had been obliterated in the snow, but
this information was not available in Petrograd when the Grand Duke made his
appeal to General Hanbury-Williams.
There was even a suggestion that the Grand Duke’s appeal was designed more to
excuse the inability of the Russians to attack on the Eastern Front.
Kitchener and Churchill both became aware of Buchanan’s telegram on
Saturday, 2 January. Later that day Kitchener saw Churchill at the Admiralty to
ascertain whether the Navy could do anything to help. Churchill subsequently
maintained that ‘All the possible alternatives in the Turkish theatre were
mentioned …We both saw clearly the far-reaching consequences of a successful
attack upon Constantinople. If there was any prospect of a serious attempt to
force the Straits of the Dardanelles at a later stage, it would be in the
highest degree improvident to stir them up for the sake of a mere
demonstration…’
Churchill then put forward various options – a demonstration at Smyrna or
Alexandretta or the Syrian coast – but Kitchener demurred, arguing that troops
could not be found. Kitchener then returned to his lair;
meanwhile, Churchill consulted his advisers at the Admiralty who, presumably,
had little more to offer.
Having confirmed at the War Office that troops could not be spared, Kitchener
thereupon penned a pessimistic note to Churchill:
I
do not see that we can do anything that will seriously help the Russians in the
Caucasus. The Turks are evidently withdrawing most of their troops from
Adrianople and using them to reinforce their army against Russia probably
sending them by the Black sea. In the Caucasus and Northern Persia the Russians
are in a bad way. We have no troops to land anywhere. A demonstration at Smyrna
would do no good and probably cause the slaughter of Christians. Alexandretta
has already been tried and would have no great effect a second time.
The coast of Syria would have no effect. The only place that a demonstration
might have some effect in stopping reinforcements going East would be the
Dardanelles — particularly if as the Grand Duke says reports could be spread
at the same time that Constantinople was threatened. We shall not be ready for
anything big for some months.
Kitchener
also wrote the same day to Sir John French of the feeling gaining ground in
London that, while it was essential to defend the line in the West, surplus
troops could be better employed elsewhere; the question remained, where to exert
this additional pressure? Russia, Kitchener reported prematurely, was hard
pressed in the Caucasus and only just holding her own in Poland.
In writing so, Kitchener was presumably only too well aware of what
French’s reaction would be — that troops could not be spared, which would,
of course, support the assertion that Kitchener had just made to Churchill.
French duly swallowed the bait and replied in the expected fashion: ‘the
impossibility of breaking through the German line’, he declared vigorously,
‘is not by any means admitted.’ It was largely a question of the sufficient
expenditure of high explosive ammunition: ‘Until the impossibility of
effective action in France and Flanders is fully proved, there can be no
question of employing British or French troops elsewhere.’ French was also
dismissive of operations in Gallipoli, Asia Minor or Syria: ‘Any attack on
Turkey would be devoid of decisive result. In the most favourable circumstances
it could only cause the relaxation of the pressure against Russia in the
Caucasus and enable her to transfer two or three Corps to the West, a result
quite incommensurate with the effort involved. To attack Turkey would be to play
the German game, & to bring about the end which Germany had in mind when she
induced Turkey to join in the war, namely, to draw off troops from the decisive
spot which is Germany herself.’ In the margin of this letter French added,
correctly, that the latest reports indicated the Russians were now not
unduly harassed in the Caucasus.
This was confirmed by Hanbury-Williams, who wrote to Kitchener on 3 January that
he had called at the Russian War Office the previous day and found that ‘the
position in Caucasus is at present somewhat better & the immediate danger of
a bad reverse there seems to have passed.’ Nevertheless, he added
conscientiously if fatefully, ‘they will, I know, be much relieved if the
Turkish pressure can be eased a bit.’
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