WITH THE FLEET 
 IN THE DARDANELLES
 
 VIEW FROM THE FORETOP DURING ACTION. 
 
 [Frontispiece
 
 WITH THE FLEET 
 IN THE DARDANELLES 
 
 SOME IMPRESSIONS OF NAVAL MEN AND INCIDENTS 
 DURING THE CAMPAIGN IN THE SPRING OF 1915 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM HAROLD PRICE 
 
 Sometime Chaplain of H.M.S. Triumph 
 
 WITH A PREFACE BY 
 
 SIR EVERARD ERASER, K.C.M.G. 
 
 LONDON: ANDREW MELROSE, LTD. 
 3 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.G.
 
 PniNTED BT 
 
 HAZELL, WATSON A^^) VTNET, LD„ 
 
 LONDON AND ATLESBUET.
 
 TO THE 
 
 CAPTAIN. OFFICERS, AND SHIP'S COMPANY 
 
 OF 
 
 H.M.S. TRIUMPH 
 
 THE AUTHOR VENTURES TO DEDICATE 
 THESE PAGES : A MEMENTO OF MANY 
 DAYS AND NIGHTS SPENT WITH THE 
 EASTERN MEDITERRANEAN SQUADRON 
 DURING THE ATTACK ON THE 
 DARDANELLES IN 1915
 
 PREFACE 
 
 To the Reverend W. H. Price, 
 
 Sub-Dean of Holy Trinity Cathedral, 
 Shanghai. 
 
 H.M. Consxtlate-Genebal, 
 May, 1915. 
 
 My dear Padre, 
 
 I do not recall your presence in 
 the group which, after evening service 
 on the Sunday before the war, watched 
 the Yarmouth, crowded with the comple- 
 ments from our river gunboats, leave 
 her moorings off the Bund and slip away 
 through the fading light to meet the Fleet 
 outside. 
 
 Our speculations of suspense at that 
 time held no idea so fantastic as your 
 doing a spell as naval chaplain and seeing 
 the " real thing." But you and we had 
 
 vii
 
 viii Preface 
 
 in common, even in those early days, the 
 desire of service and sacrifice for the 
 common weal, which has since been realised 
 in greater or less degree, directly or in- 
 directly, by the congregation that lent 
 you to H.M.S. Triumph, sure that you 
 and we were thus answering the call of 
 duty. 
 
 I confess to an innocuous envy of the 
 grand experience you enjoyed. Its poig- 
 nancy is allayed by reading this record, 
 which stamps itself faithful. The British 
 public, prone to "grousing" in China as 
 at home, has found a pretext for indulging 
 its weakness in the scarcity of authentic 
 news of the doings of our men at war. 
 Here you give them an intimate picture 
 of a battleship engaged in the sternest 
 operations of war. To one of your readers, 
 whose voyages as guest in wardrooms and 
 cabins are still the happiest of recollec- 
 tions, it is keen delight to breathe again 
 in your pages the exact atmosphere of 
 cheerful fellowship and unobtrusive effici- 
 ency that made those occasions precious.
 
 Preface ix 
 
 It is, of course, no surprise to perceive how 
 the ship and the padre suited at once, for 
 soundness is the keynote of life in the 
 navy, and you are of a disposition as nobly 
 *' general " as the Norwich physician 
 boasted himself of. Moreover, you have 
 the talisman to open all honest hearts 
 and souls — the self - forgetfulness that 
 mark's the followers of the Master. 
 
 It was like you to ask me to introduce 
 this fascinating book to the public (despite 
 the proverb about good liquor) ; and it 
 was like you to get a prompt assent from 
 one painfully shy of writing anything less 
 sawdusty than despatches. 
 
 I wish you could have a worthier intro- 
 duction : you could not have an intro- 
 duction written with more admiration and 
 good will. 
 
 I am, 
 
 My dear Padre, 
 
 Yours very truly, 
 
 E. H. Fraser.
 
 AUTHOR'S NOTE 
 
 There is no attempt at system or chrono- 
 logy in the short chapters that follow. 
 They represent some impressions of a 
 priest serving temporarily as a Naval 
 Chaplain during the campaign in the 
 Dardanelles. Some were written on the 
 ship ; some have been written since 
 leaving. The author is only too well 
 aware that a layman is always in 
 danger of making technical errors, of 
 using phrases clumsily or incorrectly. If 
 there is anything in these pages that jars 
 the nerves of Service men, he makes his 
 apologies and begs them to recollect 
 that he is but a shore-going parson who 
 scarcely had time to get thoroughly satu- 
 rated with the inimitable spirit of the 
 navy. 
 
 xi
 
 II 
 
 xii Author^s Note 
 
 His Majesty's Consul-General has been 
 good enough to write a Preface, and the 
 author pubhshes it with gratitude to Sir 
 Everard for his kindhness, though with a 
 non sum dignus to the pubhc. 
 
 Shanghai, 1915.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Preface 
 
 Author's Note . 
 I. , In Classic Waters , 
 II. The Fore-Cross Passage 
 
 III. Hell's Gates 
 
 IV. The " Press Bureau " 
 
 V. SCYLLA AND ChARYBDIS 
 
 \T. Ourselves as Others see Us . 
 
 VH. The Troglodytes 
 
 VIII. Peace and War on a Sunday . 
 
 IX. A Day and a Night on the Deep 
 
 X. A Nightmare .... 
 
 XI. The Healing Medicine of Mirth 
 
 XII. A " Make and Mend " 
 
 XIII. A Previous Attempt 
 
 PAQB 
 
 vii 
 
 xi 
 
 3 
 
 11 
 
 21 
 29 
 37 
 47 
 57 
 65 
 75 
 85 
 93 
 105 
 115 
 
 Xlll
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 View from the Foretop during Action 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 FACOJa PAGB 
 
 The Caf'tain comes on Board at Hong-Kong 4 
 
 Hong - Kong Dockyard. Where the 
 
 Triumph refitted after Tsingtau . 14 
 
 Some Guns and Some Gunners . . 24 
 
 Wearing her Honours . . . .38 
 
 A Few Shell Splinters. The Damaged 
 
 Maintop .... . . 48 
 
 The Bandmaster in the " Shades of 
 
 Nelson " 58 
 
 The Sunday Service .... 66 
 
 " The Last Volleys are Fired " . .70 
 
 A Burial at Sea ..... 88 
 
 Officer-Artistes at a Concert on Board 106 
 
 Map of the Dardanelles . . . 124 
 
 XV
 
 On a midnight in midwinter when all but the winds were 
 
 dead, 
 " The meek shall inherit the earth " was a Scripture 
 
 that rang thro' his head, 
 Till he dream'd that a voice of the Earth went wailingly 
 
 past him and said : 
 
 " I am losing the light of my Youth 
 
 And the Vision that led me of old. 
 
 And I clash with an iron Truth 
 
 When I make for an Age of gold. 
 
 And I would that my race were riin, 
 
 For teeming with liars, and madmen, and knaves. 
 
 And wearied of Autocrats, Anarchs, and Slaves, 
 
 And darken'd with doubts of a Faith that saves. 
 
 And crimson with battles, and hollow with graves, 
 
 To the wail of my winds and the moan of my waves 
 
 I whirl, and I follow the Sun." 
 
 The Dreameb. 
 
 XVI
 
 IN CLASSIC WATERS
 
 IN CLASSIC WATERS 
 
 Squadi'ons and squares of men in brazen plates, 
 Scaffolds, still sheets of water, divers woes, 
 
 Ranges of glimmering vaults with iron grates, 
 And hushed seraglios. 
 
 There are many well-remembered dates 
 in history. The nineteenth of February, 
 1915, will henceforth be numbered with 
 them. It was the day when the Allied 
 Fleet first showed itself to the gunners in 
 the forts at the entrance to the Darda- 
 nelles. 
 
 Speedily and secretly, from the corners 
 of the four seas, this host of grey monsters 
 had assembled, guided to their rendezvous 
 by mysterious messages caught up from 
 the ether — messages quite unintelligible 
 to any save those whom they concerned. 
 
 On the morning of February 19 I first 
 saw Seddul Bahr and Kum Kali from the 
 
 3
 
 4 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 quarter-deck of a battleship. Obedient 
 to those weird " burs and buzzes " of 
 wireless telegraphy, H. M. S. Triumph 
 had steamed some thousands of miles 
 from her work in the China seas. She 
 had remained in the Suez Canal for a 
 time, standing by in case of need, but 
 the ignominious flight of the Turks had 
 set her free for greater deeds, and every 
 mother's son of the 790 men who manned 
 her rejoiced when she steamed through 
 the canal to join the flag of Vice- Admiral 
 Carden off the Dardanelles. 
 
 A Pageant of Empire 
 
 The canal banks were lined with men. 
 It was a veritable pageant of empire. 
 Besides the Egyptian troops, there were 
 sturdy Australians, and New Zealanders 
 who greeted us with strange Maori war 
 cries. There were swarthy Indians whose 
 cries were even stranger, and who emulated 
 their white brothers in an attempt to 
 dance to the music of our band.
 
 
 o 
 
 
 < 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 C-1 
 
 ft 
 
 o 
 
 a
 
 In Classic Waters 5 
 
 Everywhere there were signs of war. 
 On each hand the desert was honeycombed 
 with trenches, and every few miles we 
 passed a large encampment. Merchant 
 ships had their bridges protected with 
 sand-bags. The Hardinge bore upon her 
 the marks of a recent engagement, her 
 foremost funnel having been shot away. 
 The once graceful Minerva was recog- 
 nizable in spite of an attempt to paint 
 her like a futurist picture of the Sahara. 
 
 We left all this behind, and shortly 
 found ourselves numbered with the vast 
 fleet upon whose operations so much 
 depends. There to the eastward lay the 
 historic Hellespont, a strip of water round 
 which centres to-day greater interests 
 than those which in ancient times gave 
 to it its classic fame. Here, between 
 Sestos and Abydos, Xerxes crossed in 
 480 B.C. to enter Europe. Alexander 
 crossed a century and a half later to enter 
 Asia. What of that ? True, both events 
 had great effect in history, but neither can 
 compare in importance with the present
 
 6 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 enterprise of forcing the Narrows between 
 those two points, now better known as 
 KiHd Bahr and Chanak. 
 
 The "First Castles" of Europe and 
 
 Asia 
 
 As we approach from the Archipelago 
 the objects that first attract the eye are 
 the " first castles " of Europe and Asia. 
 The former, called by the Turks Set el 
 Bahr, " the barrier of the sea," is situated 
 at the extremity of the old Thracian 
 Chersonesus, and is supposed to be built 
 out of the ruins of the ancient Eleus. 
 The tomb of Protesilaus is identified in a 
 mound near the castle. On the Asiatic 
 shore is Kum Kali, " sand castle," near 
 which is the little town of Yeni Shehir. 
 The reputed tombs of Achilles and Patro- 
 clus can be seen beyond the castle. But 
 one forgets the legendary associations of 
 Troy and its heroes as one comes into 
 contact with the grim reality of its modern 
 fortifications. A few weeks ago each
 
 In Classic Waters 7 
 
 promontory bristled with heavy guns in 
 numerous forts, and, even beyond the 
 entrance, both shores right up to the 
 Narrows were dotted with movable bat- 
 teries and howitzers. This, to say nothing 
 of the lines of mines laid across the 
 channel, and the torpedo-tubes operated 
 from the shores, gives some idea of the 
 vastness of the undertaking with which 
 the Allied Fleet was confronted on Feb- 
 ruary 19.
 
 THE FORE-CROSS PASSAGE
 
 II 
 
 THE FORE-CROSS PASSAGE 
 
 The armourers, accomplishing the knights, 
 
 With busy hammers, closing rivets up. 
 Give dreadful note of preparation. 
 
 Clearing for Action 
 
 " Wash clothes as convenient this after- 
 noon. All men are to wear clean clothes 
 and flannels to-morrow." Simple words 
 signalled from the flagship, but to the 
 men in blue they are ominous. They 
 mean that the morrow is a day of battle, 
 when shells will be flying about, when 
 jagged splinters of hot steel may cut and 
 crush and kill. Clean clothes, so the 
 surgeons say, have saved the life of many 
 a wounded man ; dirty ones inevitably 
 lead to septic complications. 
 
 The morning dawned clear and calm, 
 
 an ideal day for such an unideal task, 
 
 n
 
 12 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 Yonder, just out of range, the forts 
 showed up in the sunHght. The great 
 day had come. The men were ready. 
 There were a few preHminary, precau- 
 tionary measures to be taken. Any vul- 
 nerable part of the ship had to be protected 
 by sand-bags. Hammocks had to be 
 packed here and there to prevent shell 
 splinters striking men who must be ex- 
 posed. As the bugles sounded " Action," 
 a cheer resounded along the mess-decks, 
 and in each ship men went to their battle 
 stations. 
 
 In peace time the evolution known as 
 " General Quarters," or more familiarly 
 as " G. Q's.," is practised regularly. Each 
 man has his task and each does it with 
 cheery zeal and amazing precision. Decks 
 are speedily cleared. Hoses are rigged 
 to keep a running stream of water over 
 the woodwork and thus minimize the 
 possibility of fire. Watertight doors are 
 shut, but not before the surgeons and 
 their attendants have moved the sick 
 from the " Sick Bay " into a place of
 
 The Fore-'Cross Passage 13 
 
 safety below armour, and taken their 
 instruments and stretchers to their station. 
 The guns' crews are in their turrets and 
 casemates, the control officers have climbed 
 into the foretop, the ammunition supply 
 parties find their way to the magazines, 
 half a dozen men take their places in the 
 Transmission Station. Somewhere, hid- 
 den in' the heart of the ship, the "black 
 squad" are stoking their furnaces. En- 
 gineers, electricians, carpenters, and 
 armourers, each man has his post, and 
 gets there in less time than it takes to 
 describe. 
 
 It was my business to accompany the 
 medical party. February 19 was the 
 first occasion on which I had heard 
 " General Quarters " sounded in earnest. 
 I was one of the few men in the Triumph 
 who had not been in action before. 
 Since then those bugle notes have become 
 quite familiar. Day after day the 
 Triumph, in company with other battle- 
 ships, has bombarded the forts, sometimes 
 at long range, sometimes within 1,500
 
 14 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 yards, and the deafening roar of her guns 
 has ceased to be a novelty. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The " Fore-Cross Passage," where the 
 medical party is stationed in action, takes 
 on a new importance at this time. Let 
 me describe it. One descends innumer- 
 able iron ladders, and eventually, under 
 what is called the " belt-deck " (i.e. sur- 
 rounded by an armoured belt), one reaches 
 the magazines, well below the water-line. 
 It is hot, crowded, dark, and stuffy. One 
 sits on an ammunition case, tucks up 
 one's legs, and watches. The ammunition 
 passages, looking like dimly lighted tunnels, 
 run fore and aft. An overhead rail takes 
 the heavy projectiles from their bins to 
 the ammunition hoists, which carry them 
 to the guns above by mechanical power. 
 
 The First Gun 
 
 Great Scott ! What is that ? A noise 
 which no cunning arrangement of vowels 
 and consonants can convey. For a mo-
 
 
 
 H 
 
 < 
 
 a 
 
 
 K 
 
 o 
 
 c 
 
 o
 
 The Fore^Cross Passage 15 
 
 ment the whole ship trembles, and even 
 we, buried here, hear the faint wail gradu- 
 ally dying away. The Triumph has fired 
 the first gun ! We shall get used to it 
 in time, but the first shot " fired in anger " 
 is curiously memorable. 
 
 Now the supply parties have all their 
 work to do in carrying out orders. Half 
 stripped^ yet sweating, they send up as 
 ordered " 10" ordinary," "7-5" lyddite," 
 "Half charges cordite on the port side." 
 To-day there is a heavy demand for 
 10" shells, and more have to be hauled 
 by pulley from the lower magazines. 
 " Volunteers wanted ! " shouts an officer, 
 and immediately a dozen willing hands 
 from the disengaged side of the ship are 
 helping to trundle the heavy projectiles 
 to the ammunition hoists. 
 
 Then there is a lull, and the supply 
 party have time for a " breather." Some 
 improve the occasion by writing a message 
 on the shells they have prepared for the 
 hoist. Here is a wit who, in bold chalk 
 capitals, indites a greeting to the Sultan
 
 1 6 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 on a 10" projectile. Another contents 
 himself with a caricature of a Turk with an 
 enormous fez and very baggy trousers. 
 " One fer 'is nob " I see inscribed on one 
 shell, and on another the device, " 'Ope it 
 'its yer 'ard," and again, " Put this in yer 
 bags." 
 
 The Transmission Station 
 
 That queer box-like structure is the 
 " Transmission Station." It is the very 
 brain of the ship. In it six men or more 
 sit in the midst of a complicated array of 
 voice-pipes, electrical indicators, and navy- 
 phones, and convey to different parts of 
 the ship the instructions that come down 
 from the fore top. 
 
 Yonder on the port side there is a group 
 playing " bosun's bridge " with some very 
 grubby cards. Under the lamp is a 
 youngster reading with evident interest 
 a scrap of newspaper seven weeks old. 
 On my right a sick-bay steward snores 
 in sleep with a 7 -5" lyddite shell for a
 
 The Fore^Cross Passage 17 
 
 pillow. The staff-surgeon, divested of 
 his white coat, is carrying on a subdued 
 argument with the paymaster on the 
 subject of ventilation — a most apposite 
 subject. Over and above it all is the 
 distant boom of guns from the forts and 
 the other ships, and at regular intervals 
 the crash of our own broadsides and the 
 thunder of our turrets. Round us we 
 hear the bursting of shells as they strike 
 the water short of us, and occasionally the 
 rattle of splinters as they crash into our 
 armour. 
 
 At the Wheel 
 
 In action the steering-gear is connected 
 up with the fore-cross passage, and one 
 hears the man at the wheel repeating in 
 nautical sing-song tones the instructions 
 conveyed to him by voice-pipe from the 
 navigating officer in the conning-tower, 
 " Starboard 10, sir," " Starboard 15, 
 sir," " Helm to midships, sir." I go and 
 peep at the compass, and find we are now 
 2
 
 1 8 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 heading south-west. I reaUze we are steam- 
 ing out of the channel, and am glad to 
 think there will be a short " Stand easy," 
 when one can stretch a leg and smoke a 
 pipe, and perhaps get a hurried meal. 
 
 From the depths of the ship we hear 
 the bugles sounding the " Cease Fire," 
 strange notes that seem, almost reluctantly, 
 to say, " Let 'em alone ! Let 'em alone ! " 
 Shortly comes the order, " Return all 
 cordite." It is returned to the magazines 
 for safety. Then the " Secure " is sounded, 
 and one takes one's turn in the procession 
 up the ladders, anxious to see what 
 damage we have received, and to thank 
 God for daylight and fresh air again.
 
 HELL'S GATES
 
 Ill 
 
 HELL'S GATES 
 
 Shrine of the mighty ! Can it be 
 That this is all remains of thee ? 
 
 On the first day of the bombardment of 
 the Dardanelles, the Triumph received 
 instructions to shell the forts at Cape 
 Tekel from the north-west. This having 
 been accomplished, she proceeded, in the 
 afternoon, to reconnoitre the shore north 
 of Cape Helles, and to open fire with 7*5" 
 guns on the trenches and field works that 
 disputed the landing of the Marines who 
 were to complete the demolition of the 
 guns. 
 
 A Spectacular Scene 
 
 As we returned to the flagship in the 
 evening, we witnessed what must have been 
 one of the most spectacular scenes in naval 
 
 21
 
 22 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 history. Imagine it. The sun is setting 
 over the hills on the Asiatic shore. The 
 air is perfectly clear, and the limpid sea 
 outside the entrance is coloured, in patches, 
 every shade of blue and green and yellow. 
 From the south the French battleships 
 are using their turrets with great effect 
 upon the forts beyond Kum Kali. The 
 Vengeance and Cornwallis proudly steam 
 to and fro, discharging salvos into the 
 forts on Cape Graeco, the most southern 
 point on the European shore. We see 
 the flashes of the heavy guns of the Turkish 
 forts as they reply to the onslaught. The 
 Agamemnon approaches, and soon her 
 broadsides blaze out and her projectiles 
 begin to fall with telling accuracy round 
 the spot where her legendary namesake 
 attacked the forces of King Priam. Lying 
 in the distance is the Inflexible, doing some 
 excellent long-range shooting. The Queen 
 Elizabeth, stately and terrible, back on 
 the horizon there, occasionally makes her 
 presence felt by a well-directed shot from 
 her fifteen-inch guns.
 
 Heirs Gates 23 
 
 It is difficult to give any adequate 
 impression of the scene. The constant 
 flash of guns, followed by their roar and 
 thunder, the strange shrieking of pro- 
 jectiles hurtling through the air, the 
 gigantic fountains of water raised when 
 the shots fall short, the almost equally 
 large columns of earth, cement, and stone 
 when the ships' shells find a target in and 
 about the forts. The ancient history of 
 the place strengthens its appeal to the 
 imagination. What scenes of war have 
 these hills in the Troad witnessed in the 
 past ! What strange ships have sailed 
 these waters ! Yet never before such 
 warfare, never before such a fleet as this 1 
 
 Deliberate Fire at Close Range 
 
 The rough weather necessitated some 
 delay before the reduction of the forts at 
 the entrance could be completed. After 
 a few unpleasant days patrolling in heavy 
 seas, the opportunity came. 
 
 With ships at long range supporting
 
 24 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 them, the Vengeance and Cornwallis made 
 a run into the channel and subjected the 
 forts to a further bombardment. A second 
 run was made by two ships of the French 
 squadron. On each occasion the ships 
 were embarrassed by the fire of field-guns 
 and movable batteries which had been 
 brought up during the bad weather. 
 
 Finally the Triumph and Albion were 
 directed to complete the destruction of 
 the guns by deliberate fire at close range. 
 They steamed in to two thousand yards 
 and were able to get direct hits at the guns 
 not already disabled. Five hundred yards 
 closer ! One sees with the naked eye the 
 debris and desolation. As each shell falls, 
 a volcano of bricks and stone and earth 
 flies high into the air. A terrific explosion 
 echoing through the hills indicates a 
 magazine blown up. Fires break out at 
 various points. As the smoke and dust 
 of exploding shells is carried away by the 
 wind from the sea, the awful effect of 
 the heavy bombardment is revealed : 
 maimed and twisted guns, roofless shelters
 
 SOME GUNS AND SOME GUNNERS. 
 
 24]
 
 Heirs Gates 25 
 
 torn with gaping holes, sheets of armour 
 bent and ripped, mined buildings. 
 
 There was little else to do that day, 
 save the comparatively merciful task of 
 destroying the searchlights at Seddul Bahr. 
 As the ships withdrew they received a 
 signal from the flagship : " Albion and 
 Triumph. You have been shooting very 
 well. , I congratulate you." 
 
 The Forts in Flames 
 
 Darkness draws on, and the Allied Fleet 
 steam out in station, an imposing grey 
 line. Astern in the distance two huge 
 fires are burning ; the forts on each shore 
 are in flames, and silhouetted against the 
 horrible blaze one sees shattered masonry, 
 tottering buildings, a burning barracks, 
 a blackened tower. 
 
 It is evident that, on the European 
 shore, the Turks are systematically com- 
 pleting the work begun by their enemies' 
 guns. No shell has fallen near the light- 
 house, but from its windows dense black
 
 26 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 clouds of smoke emerge, and round its 
 base the savage flames lick the white 
 stones with the lust of destruction. 
 
 The whole fort and the adjoining village 
 are ablaze, lighting up the sky and casting 
 weird reflexions. Throughout the night 
 the conflagration continues, making the 
 entrance to the Dardanelles look like the 
 gateway of hell. Magnificent but terrible, 
 for who can forget that beneath those 
 charred ruins there lie the bodies of men, 
 men made for better things than this ?
 
 THE "PRESS BUREAU"
 
 IV 
 THE "PRESS BUREAU" 
 
 That night a child might understand 
 '' The De'il had business on Ms hand. 
 
 The Fleet in a Storm 
 
 There have been several days when the 
 weather has made it impossible to carry 
 on the bombardment of the forts and 
 batteries. The wind changed round to 
 the southward and increased to a full 
 gale with terrific squalls. It was bad 
 enough in the day time; at night, with 
 darkened ship, it was worse. 
 
 At 5 p.m. one day the Triumph was 
 ordered to send her duty steamboat to 
 the flagship. The ship was rolling badly, 
 and as the boat was lowered, her funnel 
 was down lest she should come foul of the 
 slings. As soon as she took the water she 
 
 29
 
 30 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 shipped a sea which almost put out her 
 fires. Steam went back, and she drifted 
 helplessly in the trough of the sea. 
 
 The Albion, returning from coaling, saw 
 her plight, and was about to steer towards 
 her and give her a line, when her engines 
 started and away she went. It looked 
 every minute as if she would capsize, but 
 she pluckily accomplished her mission, 
 and eventually returned. By means of 
 oil-bags and by manoeuvring the ship to 
 make a lee, she was at last hoisted. 
 
 A Floating Mine ? 
 
 We went to sea that night in a regular 
 hurricane. Huge seas were breaking over 
 the fo'c'sle and we were rolling heavily. 
 Sitting in the wardroom after supper, 
 about 9 o'clock, we heard a. terrific thud 
 and the sound of rushing water which 
 soon flooded the half-deck and swished 
 about our feet. Heavens ! What could 
 it be ? The ship of course was darkened
 
 The ^^ Press Bureau'' 31 
 
 and we were all battened down. Every 
 one jumped up confident that we had 
 struck a mine, a belief that seemed con- 
 firmed by reason of the ship having an 
 obvious list to starboard. Investigations 
 proved our fears to be groundless. A 
 heavy hatch, too heavy for one man to 
 lift, had been struck by a sea as we were 
 coming round to the wind, and had been 
 closed by force majeure. 
 
 It was an awful night. The navigating 
 officer on the bridge must have found it 
 difficult to keep station with the fleet. 
 For my part I lay, tossed hither and 
 thither in my bunk, and sympathized 
 with St. Paul, who had similar trouble 
 in these waters. Like him I found "Euro- 
 clydon " most unpleasant. Like him I 
 prayed fo^ the daAvn. 
 
 The morning was smiling and pleasant. 
 The elements appeared amused at their 
 joke at our expense, but they seemed 
 determined to give us another oppor- 
 tunity iji the Dardanelles. In the after- 
 noon the ships took up their positions for
 
 32 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 bombarding, and our ship's company 
 went to action stations. 
 
 During our enforced inaction the medical 
 party had arranged with the Transmission 
 Station officers what subsequently became 
 known as the " Press Bureau." Let me 
 explain. 
 
 Two or three hours hidden away in the 
 bowels of a ship are never pleasant, and 
 still less so when one knows that up 
 above things of surpassing interest are 
 happening each minute. To hear the 
 crash of shells around and not to know 
 their effect is trying to the nerves. It is 
 no less trying to hear the cannonade of 
 the ship's guns and not to know their effect. 
 
 Now the " Press Bureau " keeps us 
 supplied with bulletins whenever the con- 
 trol officers in the foretop can spare a 
 moment's thought for the " submerged 
 tenth." Between the instructions to the 
 gunlayers which the Transmission Station
 
 The ^' Press Bureau'' 33 
 
 passes on to the respective casemates, one 
 gets bits of description. The rosy face 
 of a midshipman appears from the trap- 
 door at intervals with such morsels of in- 
 formation as the following : " Last shot 
 short." Then a pause. Again the head 
 appears. "Last shot a hit;" and then 
 after a pause, " Large explosion in the 
 fort. Probably a magazine blown up." 
 
 The word would be passed along the 
 lines and would be greeted by a muffled 
 cheer. Then again, " Shore battery guard- 
 ing minefield opened up on mine-sweepers." 
 Ho ! Ho ! " Dublin and Amethyst have 
 engaged battery and landed a shell in the 
 middle of it." Hurray ! Another inter- 
 val, and then from the trap -door would 
 come the information, " Two shells just 
 burst twenty-five yards short of us." . . . 
 "We're hit ! " . . . "Six -inch plodge 
 through our quarter-deck." . . . "Hit 
 again on starboard beam — picket boat 
 smashed up." Whew ! Then there 
 would be no time for further messages. 
 We knew that the " men that mattered " 
 
 3
 
 34 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 in the foretop had all their wits employed 
 in bringing the Triumph's broadside to 
 bear upon some particularly energetic 
 battery which had made a target of us. 
 And so it goes on day after day. 
 
 \
 
 SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 
 
 .^5
 
 SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS 
 
 Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on 
 
 board ; 
 " Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to 
 
 pass'? " laughed they : 
 " Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage 
 
 scarred and scored." 
 
 Across the Narrows, between the ancient 
 Sestos and Abydos, Leander is said to 
 have swum nightly to visit Hero. In 1810 
 Lord Byron performed a similar feat. 
 Legend does not tell us the object of his 
 excursion. 
 
 From the bridge of the Triumph, as she 
 approached to join in the bombardment of 
 Fort Dardanus, the view of the Narrows 
 would almost lead one to believe that 
 an ordinary swimmer could accomplish 
 Leander's task with ease. It looks scarcely 
 a mile between the promontories. But 
 the current at that point is of great force, 
 
 37
 
 38 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 and doubtless the swimmers deserved all 
 the praise they got. 
 
 The Triumph steamed in, in station, 
 astern of the Albion. Further up the 
 channel three other battleships were 
 already within range and had opened fire 
 on the forts of Kilid Baiir and Chanak. 
 These forts were clearly visible to us. 
 One could see the coloured roofs of the 
 buildings on the hill sides, relieved here 
 and there by an oriental dome or minaret. 
 A fire was observed to have broken out in 
 Chanak. Whether it was the result of a 
 ship's projectile or of a bomb dropped by 
 the aeroplane circling overhead it was 
 impossible to say. 
 
 It would be interesting to know how 
 the people of Chanak regarded these 
 proceedings. In the following chapter 
 I give the impressions of one who was 
 in Chanak at the time. 
 
 The Narrows 
 
 In a famous old book, known to navi- 
 gators of a past generation, the Narrows
 
 WEARING HER HONOURS. 
 
 38]
 
 Scylla and Charybdis 39 
 
 are thus described. " Four leagues within 
 the first castles the channel is contracted 
 by a promontory on each shore to two 
 thousand seven hundred yards, and this 
 strait is properly the Dardanelles. On 
 each promontoiy there is a castle. The 
 cape on the European side is the ancient 
 Cynossema, on which was the tomb of 
 Hecuba. The castle on it is called the 
 second castle of Europe, and by the Turks, 
 Kelidar Bahr, the Padlock of the Sea. 
 The second castle of Asia is known as 
 Sultania Kalessi, the Sultana's castle, and 
 vulgarly Clianak Kalessi, the Castle of 
 Pottery, from the quantity of fragments 
 of pottery found near it. Close to it is 
 a town of four thousand inhabitants, 
 chiefly Jews, who live by supplying ships 
 passing with provisions. The ancient 
 Rhodius, an insignificant torrent, washes 
 the walls of the second castle of Asia on 
 the south." 
 
 As the Allied Fleet approaches the 
 Narrows now, it is not only the armed 
 castles that dispute its passage. Clus-
 
 40 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 tered round Kilid Bahr there is a for- 
 midable array of forts pointing their 
 heavy guns upon the approaching enemy. 
 The armament of Chanak opposite is 
 but sHghtly less, but perhaps her 
 position makes an enemy's attack more 
 difficult. 
 
 As the Triumph picks up her station 
 just beyond the village of Aren Kioi, 
 Kephez point juts out spoiling the full 
 view of the town of Chanak. Beyond 
 Kephez, in Sari Siglar Bay, lies the wreck 
 of the Turkish battleship Messodieh, a 
 victim of the plucky Bll. Lines of 
 mines across the channel block the passage, 
 but while the forts are engaged in an 
 attempt to repulse the approaching battle- 
 ships, the intrepid mine - sweepers are 
 ploughing a channel through those trea- 
 cherous obstacles. Strange that these 
 mighty battleships should be so dependent 
 upon a few North Sea trawlers ; yet 
 in this enterprise the hidden mines con- 
 stitute an all-important factor in the cam- 
 paign, and no praise is too high for those
 
 Scylla and Charybdis 41 
 
 courageous souls who, with their lives in 
 their hands, man the mine-sweepers. 
 
 Fort Dardanus 
 
 To-day, after a heavy bombardment, 
 Fort Dardanus is silenced. At first the 
 ships received a heavy fire from its guns, 
 the batteries on the crest of the hill being 
 difficult to locate. The Triumph was 
 not the only battleship that suffered from 
 their shells; the Albion has been hit 
 between the after-funnel and the main- 
 mast. A shell has pierced the Triumph's 
 quarter-deck ; another has damaged the 
 gun-room. As we drew out of range we 
 rushed to examine our wounds. Though 
 the debris was plentiful, the damage was 
 but slight. Luckily one of the shells 
 burst the bathroom water-pipes, and the 
 floods of water prevented a fire ! The 
 Captain's cabin will be habitable again to- 
 morrow. Already the ship's carpenters 
 are busy with timber and tow and tar. 
 The middies may find their quarters
 
 42 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 drauglity for some time, but worse things 
 happen at sea ! 
 
 A Fearful and Wonderful Scene 
 
 We reached the entrance in time to 
 behold a fearful and wonderful scene. A 
 demolition party had been landed to 
 complete the desti-uction of the guns on 
 the Asiatic shore. Through our glasses 
 we see the men clambering over the ruins 
 of the gun emplacements. They press in 
 the gun-cotton. We see them retire to 
 a safe range before the charges are 
 exploded. What a sight ! What a crash ! 
 Explosion after explosion as gun after 
 gun is blown to pieces. A flash, a huge 
 column of black smoke streaked with 
 glo's^ing flame, a series of terrific roars and 
 rumblings. The ver\' earth seems to 
 quake and to impart its tremors to the 
 water. Hurtling through the air come 
 huge masses of metal and masonr\\ Great 
 fragments fall into the trembling sea, 
 studding its surface with numerous geysers,
 
 Scylla and Charybdis 43 
 
 some so near to the ship that we are 
 shifted to a more safe position. 
 
 Stillness once more, save for the shrill 
 cries of frightened gulls which wildly circle 
 off the coast. Over the ruins and desola- 
 tion a huge cloud of smoke hangs like a 
 pall. The marines emerge from their 
 cover and hurrv to the waiting boats. 
 Steam pinnaces tow them back to their 
 ships. They have done their work.
 
 OURSELVES AS OTHERS SEE US 
 
 46
 
 VI 
 
 OURSELVES AS OTHERS SEE US 
 
 O wad some power the giftie gie us, 
 ,'( To see oursels as ithers see us ! 
 
 • ■ • • 
 
 If tliere's a hole in a' your coats, 
 
 I rede ye tent it ; 
 A chiel's aniang ye takin' notes, 
 
 And, faith, he'll prent it 1 
 
 In the last chapter I mentioned the bom- 
 bardment of the forts at Kihd Bahr and 
 Chanak by a number of battleships simul- 
 taneously with the attack of the Albion 
 and Triumph at Fort Dardanus. The 
 special correspondent of the Vossische 
 Zeitung at the Dardanelles, writing from 
 Chanak Kale, describes the terrible effect 
 of the bombardment of the allied men-of- 
 war. He relates how he was sitting in a 
 caf6, when there was an ear-splitting 
 report, caused by the explosion near by 
 
 47
 
 48 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 of a shell from a man-of-war. " Then, 
 without delay," he writes, with uncon- 
 scious humour, in the manner of Pepys, 
 " to the fort to a safer point of observa- 
 tion." The journey cannot have been 
 agreeable, for the narrative proceeds : 
 
 " The thunder of the guns becomes 
 louder every minute, the very air quivers 
 and houses totter. The smashing of 
 window-glass and the rattle of the iron 
 roller blinds of the shops show that the 
 shells are flying over the town. Do the 
 English wish to bombard the unfortunate 
 town, and destroy the, for the most part 
 modest, dwellings of the inhabitants who 
 have long been in a place of safety ? 
 Shall the town which still bears traces of 
 the great earthquake of 1912 be reduced 
 to a rubbish heap ? " The correspondent 
 does not mention whether the Allies' shells 
 fulfilled his speculations regarding the 
 town, but he is much more specific regard- 
 ing the conditions in the fort. 
 
 He remarks complacently that the two 
 sentries at the entrance standing in their
 
 VTil 
 
 A FEW SHELL SPLINTERS. 
 THE DAMAGED MAINTOP. 
 
 48]
 
 Ourselves as Others See Us 49 
 
 boxes saluted as usual even on such a day, 
 but he seems to have suffered some dis- 
 appointment regarding the observation 
 post which he had in his mind, for he 
 says : " It is hardly advisable to ascend 
 the tower to-day ; it is all too good a 
 mark, and shells are flying to the right and 
 left of it. There seems to be no place 
 in or near the fort from which one can 
 watch the fight with any degree of security. 
 The increasing hail of shells and the ap- 
 parent concentration of the fire on the 
 ground around the tower oblige us to 
 think of cover." 
 
 Search for Cover 
 
 Declining the invitation of Turkish 
 soldiers to share their shelter, the corres- 
 pondent and his companions took refuge 
 behind a wall, and their doubts as to its 
 protective capacity were soon confirmed 
 by a shower of stones and rubbish and 
 the acrid fumes of explosives. " Our 
 wall," the writer proceeds, " was indeed 
 
 4
 
 50 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 unharmed, but we saw well enough that 
 it would be no protection for us. Yet 
 where, for twenty kilometres round, was 
 there any spot from which we should be 
 able to laugh at these death-vomiting 
 shells ? An artillery officer assured us 
 that the best place was in one of the 
 mighty holes that the shells made in the 
 ground, as the experience of many genera- 
 tions of artillerymen had shown that such 
 holes possessed no attraction for other 
 shells. 
 
 " But then, if the contrary had hap- 
 pened, our friendly counsellor might have 
 argued that we were simply * the exception 
 that proved the rule.' " The corres- 
 pondent's party had no wish to run the 
 risk of " proving the rule " in this way, 
 so they took refuge in a passage leading 
 to the inner courtyard of the fort, where 
 they ruminated on the horrors of war and 
 grieved over the fact that on such a 
 beautiful spring day, given to humanity for 
 life's enjoyment, men should be shooting 
 at men with such murderous projectiles.
 
 Ourselves as Others See Us 51 
 
 From these considerations they were 
 rudely brought back once more to horrid 
 reahty by a terrific detonation close by. 
 " The gigantic walls," says the corres- 
 pondent, " which for 450 years had stood 
 all the storms and stress of time, and 
 seemed to have been built for eternity, 
 heaved, and great lumps of earth and 
 stone hurtled over us, and we saw that 
 here, too, we possessed no safe shelter." 
 Moreover, the party suddenly realized 
 that from where they were they could 
 see nothing of the fight, so they decided 
 to make for the hospital liill. The writer 
 admits that the mile and three-quarters 
 thither was not one of the pleasantest 
 walks in his life, for the fire of the sliips 
 seemed suddenly to turn in the direction 
 in which they were going. Scarcely, too, 
 had they left the fort behind them, when 
 a shell struck an adjacent bakery, the 
 ruined walls of which fell within twenty 
 paces of them.
 
 52 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 A Hellish Din 
 
 On reaching the open they found that 
 the nine ships they had counted at the 
 beginning of the attack had now grown 
 to fourteen, including the Queen Ehza- 
 beth and other " stately and heavily 
 armed vessels." " I do not deny," pro- 
 ceeds the correspondent, " that the em- 
 ployment of these great and powerful 
 vessels shook my confidence in an out- 
 come of the undertaking in our favour, for 
 it showed an intention to carry the thing 
 through with the strongest and most 
 effective means. The enemy squadron 
 manoeuvred as usual. The ships steamed 
 into the bay, fired their guns, and in their 
 further course described an ellipse until, 
 followed in turn by the other vessels, 
 they came into the firing-line. 
 
 "It was a hellish din, and the shells flew 
 in all directions — towards Dardanus, the 
 howitzer batteries on the European side, 
 as well as towards Forts Medjidieh and 
 Hamidieh. We were now able to watch
 
 Ourselves as Others Sec Us 53 
 
 the firing almost in complete safety, and 
 I was glad to see how many of these heavy 
 and costly projectiles fell wide of their 
 mark." The correspondent imagines the 
 sinking of the Bouvet, Irresistible, and 
 Ocean (which he mentions without in 
 any way describing) to have been due, not 
 to mines, of which he says not a word, 
 but to the fire of the forts. 
 
 As regards the other British battleships 
 alleged to have been hit by the forts, how- 
 ever, he admits that no permanent damage 
 was done to them, " but," he concludes, 
 evidently with an eye to the possibility 
 of his words reaching British readers, and 
 with the wish to contribute his little to the 
 German attempts to sow mistrust be- 
 tween the Allies, "it is sufficient to delay 
 the operations, and will make the English 
 realize that they are staking a great deal, 
 and must be prepared for further consider- 
 able losses if they mean to go on with 
 their efforts to throw open the Dardanelles 
 solely in the interests of Russia and her 
 development into a Mediterranean Power."
 
 THE TROGLODYTES 
 
 56
 
 VII 
 
 THE TROGLODYTES 
 
 The man that hath no music in himself, 
 
 Nqr is not moved with concourse of sweet sounds, 
 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils : 
 
 The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
 
 And his affections dark as Erebus. 
 
 Let no such man be trusted. 
 
 The bluejacket loves a concert. In peace 
 time, even if he be numbered among the 
 small minority who cannot contribute to 
 its programme, he will not be happy un- 
 less at least once a month he can share 
 with his messmates the joy of a rousing 
 chorus. A ship's concert has a flavour 
 of its own. There are always the humorous, 
 pathetic, and melodramatic notes. No 
 ship's concert ever yet lacked at least one 
 item of a vaguely lugubrious character. 
 
 Normally the " sing-song " is a splendid 
 affair, worked up in odd times for a con- 
 
 67
 
 58 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 siderable period before it appears on the 
 boards. When the day comes, during the 
 dog watches, willing carpenters will be 
 found rigging a stage on the quarter-deck. 
 Electric light effects are skilfully arranged 
 by the " L.T.O.," the leading torpedo 
 man, in whose province all electrical 
 matters lie. In every ship will be found 
 some budding artist who can paint a 
 scene, and it is amazing what wealth of 
 theatrical properties lie concealed in men's 
 chests. It is beyond me to describe the 
 skill, the humour, the good spirit and 
 the knowledge of human nature revealed 
 in a certain two-act farce entitled " The 
 Shades of Nelson " which I once saw 
 acted on the Triumph's quarter-deck. 
 And, mark you, it was written, staged, 
 rigged, and painted by lower-deck hands. 
 
 Jack is invariably a musician of sorts. 
 Mandoline, banjo, concertina, and even 
 violin have their votaries in every ship. 
 Failing all else, the mouth-organ makes a 
 cheerful noise. 
 
 Under war routine, when at sunset the
 
 THE BANDMASTER IN THE "• SHADES OF NELSON. 
 
 58]
 
 The Troglodytes 59 
 
 ship is darkened, such lavish musical 
 treats are not possible. At the order 
 " Darken ship " all deadlights are closed 
 that no gleam may penetrate the scuttles, 
 casemates are closed in, deck lights are 
 covered with iron hatches. No one may 
 even strike a match on deck. He must 
 light his pipe by means of the smouldering 
 rope-end hidden in the bucket. Yet, even 
 so, the matlow's musical soul must ex- 
 press itself. Jack must have his concert, 
 and he finds a way. 
 
 A Sing-song in " B " Casemate 
 
 *' We are having a little sing-song in 
 * B ' casemate to-night, sir. Can you 
 come ? " 
 
 Rather I Who would miss it ? 
 
 It has been a busy day. We are 
 patrolling during the night. " Night 
 defence " has been sounded long ago, and 
 men are at their stations. About 8.30 
 some officers find their way from the ward- 
 room to the darkened deck. Gradually,
 
 6o With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 as one's eyes get used to the gloom, it is 
 possible to grope along through the battery. 
 One barks one's shins, perhaps, against 
 an ammunition case, and narrowly avoids 
 falling down a hatch into the inky dark- 
 ness below. Mercifully no one trips across 
 a spitkid, but there is every danger of 
 stumbling into a group of men as they 
 squat there in the darkness yarning. 
 From a distance we hear the muffled 
 sounds of " Thora," without which no 
 ship's concert could be complete. Even- 
 tually we arrive at the appointed casemate, 
 and are led in by the bandmaster, who 
 has been on the look out for us. 
 
 It takes a minute to grasp the strange 
 sight within — to focus things. What a 
 spectacle is lit up by the light of a solitary 
 candle lamp ! Is it a cave ? Are those 
 stalactites ? No. Eighty men sitting, 
 standing, squatting, crouching round the 
 iron walls of a gun casemate. Some are 
 hanging on to the ammunition rack. Some 
 are sitting on the breech of a 7*5'' gun. It 
 might be a congregation of primitive
 
 The Troglodytes 6i 
 
 Christians hiding in a catacomb. It might 
 be a pubUc meeting of Troglodytes. It is, 
 in fact, a handful of a ship's company 
 "standing easy," met together to cheer 
 their spirits by mutual song. 
 
 The Count 
 
 55 
 
 We can distinguish now the forms of the 
 men, in every state of neglige. One gets 
 a glimpse of their healthy faces as they 
 come occasionally within range of the 
 flickering light. Some are shaven. Many 
 are engaged in the inartistic process of 
 growing beards (a practice fashionable in 
 war time). Some have passed that miser- 
 able period and can boast of a fine, bushy 
 growth. The atmosphere is already heavy 
 with the smoke of their "service plug." 
 Near the door a few chairs have been 
 considerately placed for the officers. In 
 the middle of the strange circle squats the 
 bandmaster, by courtesy known as " the 
 Count." He it is who calls upon the 
 artists, whose names he has previously
 
 62 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 set out on a grubby piece of paper. He 
 skilfully restrains the over-eager, tactfully 
 encourages the hesitating. He arranges 
 with the concertina men as to keys and 
 accompaniment. A worthy fellow, the 
 Count. His splendid beard is surmounted 
 by a moustache which out-does the Kaiser's 
 in its delicate curve. He sings an excel- 
 lent song himself, he wears a perpetual 
 smile, and possesses an unruffled temper 
 — an asset to any ship's company. 
 
 We applaud the songs, as is meet. We 
 join in the chorus when we can. As the 
 clouds of tobacco smoke increase in density 
 the picture becomes more eerie than ever. 
 The air is close, unbreathable, but the 
 noise is good, wholesome, invigorating. 
 
 Hark ! The notes of a bugle. " Out 
 Pipes ! '* A general exodus — some to 
 hammocks, others to bunks. We shall 
 sleep well, and to-morrow's action will be 
 no worse for such a night.
 
 PEACE AND WAR ON A SUNDAY 
 
 63
 
 VIII 
 PEACE AND WAR ON A SUNDAY 
 
 Blight and famine, plague and earthquake, roai'ing deeps 
 
 and 'fiery sands ; 
 Clanging fights, and flaming towns, and sinking ships 
 
 and praying hands ; 
 But they smile, they find a music centred in a doleful 
 
 song. 
 
 Sunday — but no day of rest. No time 
 to-day for " church." No time, that is, 
 for the ship's company to muster for the 
 usual service on the quarter-deck or in 
 the battery. In the early hours, of course, 
 there has been a simple celebration of Holy 
 Communion. A little group of officers 
 and men, " such as can be spared from the 
 necessary service of the ship," have knelt 
 round that flag-covered Altar, have gazed 
 perchance at the emblem of the Crucified, 
 lit by the flickering candle on either side. 
 They have received into their rope- 
 
 5 65
 
 66 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 hardened hands the Bread of Life, and 
 into their souls the strength, if need be, 
 for sacrifice. They have bowed their heads 
 as the celebrant makes the holy sign, and 
 blesses them in God's name — " The Peace 
 of God which passeth all understanding 
 keep your hearts and minds." 
 
 The Peace of God ? And in an hour 
 the flash and roar of battle ! Is it a 
 mockery to speak of a divine peace at 
 such a time ? You who would mock be 
 silent. They know. 
 
 * * * 
 
 In a lovely mountain-girdled valley, at 
 the head of a gulf running forty-six miles 
 inland from the Aegean sea, stands Smyrna, 
 the most important seaport in Asia Minor. 
 The city nestles at the foot, and climbs 
 up the slopes, of a steep hill at the 
 south-east corner of the gulf. It is crowned 
 by the ruins of the ancient Acropolis. 
 Traces of the old walls are visible, and 
 ruins of the stadium, the theatre, and 
 some temples can be discerned. Seven 
 hundred years before Christ it was one of
 
 ^^ <-^-T^
 
 Peace and War on a Sunday 6-} 
 
 the most important trading-places of 
 Anatolia, and to-day, not only does it 
 boast its commercial supremacy, but it is 
 also an important railway centre with 
 busy iron foundries and machinery works. 
 Its harbour is well protected by the 
 heavy guns of Fort Hamidieh, which juts 
 out into the sea at the entrance. Along 
 the southern shore, at Paleo Tabir and 
 westward of it, batteries threaten the 
 approach of an enemy ship. Not with- 
 out good reason was the bombardment of 
 the forts of Smyrna described as a neces- 
 sary incident in the larger enterprise of 
 forcing the Dardanelles. 
 
 Fort Hamidieh Hotly Engaged 
 
 Tne Triumph was one of the battleships 
 engaged there under the flag of Vice- 
 Admiral Sir R. H. Pierse, Commander- 
 in-Chief of the East India Squadron. 
 Fort Hamidieh had been bombarded with 
 evident success at a range of 14,000 yards. 
 To-day, Sunday, it must be engaged at
 
 68 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 a much closer range, and the battery at 
 Paleo Tabir must also be attacked. 
 
 The bombardment had not been long in 
 progress, when suddenly other batteries 
 along the coast, hidden in the olive groves, 
 opened fire. The Triumph, which was 
 closest inshore, found herself under the 
 fire of four batteries at once. A hail of 
 shells was falling all around her, whipping 
 up the sea into great columns of water 
 which deluged her decks. 
 
 While the squadron was being so dis- 
 posed that each ship might engage a 
 different battery, a shell burst on our 
 shelter-deck, another made a jagged hole 
 in our after-funnel, another struck the 
 pedestal of a fourteen-pounder on the 
 bridge. There was a terrific crash, a 
 blinding flash, a rain of splinters, the 
 fumes of burning hammocks, making it 
 difficult for the officers in the conning- 
 tower to carry on. Yet through it all 
 commands were calmly given and obeyed, 
 and soon the ships' broadsides and turrets 
 were trained on the respective positions.
 
 Peace and War on a Sunday 69 
 
 The enemy's fire became slower, more 
 erratic, and eventually ceased. 
 
 A Shell 
 
 In the midst of that melee there comes 
 a message to the medical party. " Shell 
 burst in X casemate. Send assistance." 
 Shell burst in a casemate ! God help 
 them ! In such a confined space there 
 can be little hope for any one. 
 
 The surgeons are already on their way, 
 having a very unpleasant minute as they 
 pick their way across the exposed deck. 
 The fumes and dust have scarcely cleared 
 away. A great gash is visible in the roof 
 of the casemate. Fortunately the shell 
 burst before entering, so the casualties 
 are remarkably few. One poor fellow is 
 seriously wounded, two others only slightly, 
 and the latter assure the doctors they can 
 carry on. 
 
 The unconscious lad, a midshipman, 
 is tenderly bandaged, and the stretcher 
 party carry him below where he can be
 
 70 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 attended with less risk. The doctors do all 
 that is possible, but there is little chance. 
 He is still unconscious. The Chaplain 
 kneels by his side and says the last prayers 
 of the Church on his behalf, and commends 
 his departing soul to God. The attend- 
 ants bare their heads. Amen. He is 
 gone. 
 
 Still the roar and crash of death go on 
 above us. A few hours, and in some 
 sheltered bay the lad's remains are com- 
 mitted to the deep with a warrior's 
 honours. The last volleys are fired. The 
 " Last Post " sounds. Another name on 
 the nation's Roll of Honour. God rest 
 him. Another mother bereaved of her 
 son. God comfort her. 
 
 The Men in the Casemates 
 
 With all its damage and death, and the 
 anguish and anxiety that follow in its 
 wake, no one could like war for its own 
 sake. True, there are times, and this is 
 pre-eminently one, when war is a neces-
 
 a 
 
 a 
 a. 

 
 Peace and War on a Sunday 71 
 
 sity; but it must ever be a regrettable 
 necessity. Sailors, no less than soldiers, 
 regard it as such. But they realize that, 
 in such times as these, the road to peace 
 must be hewn with the sword, and if 
 they find a certain joy in the arts of war, 
 the vision of future peace inspires it. 
 
 " The fiercer the fight, the shorter the 
 war." That is their motto. How often 
 have I heard brave men, talking in groups 
 on the darkened decks, speaking of their 
 homes, their wives and children, and 
 longing for the day when they will see 
 them again. I have seen those same men 
 exhilarated with joy as they note the 
 damaging effect of their heavy projectiles, 
 for they know that by such means each 
 day brings peace and home nearer. 
 
 People in England ! rightly do you 
 think of " the men in the trenches." The 
 phrase has become a simile for hardship 
 and determined endurance. Think too, 
 sometimes, of "the men in the case- 
 mates," the men who are spending these 
 days and nights in the iron trenches along
 
 72 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 the broadsides of our battleships. Their 
 lot has its peculiar difficulties and dangers, 
 and it gives them confidence and courage 
 to know that the " folk at home " think 
 of them and say an occasional prayer for 
 them.
 
 A DAY AND A NIGHT ON THE DEEP 
 
 73
 
 IX 
 A DAY AND A NIGHT ON THE DEEP 
 
 There would be neither music nor star ; 
 But the wave would make music above us afar — 
 Low' thunder and light in the magic night, 
 Neither moon nor star. 
 
 Each morning upon the mantelshelf in 
 the wardroom, sticking out of a curious 
 bamboo vase, which recalls one's thoughts 
 to China, a packet of cotton-wool is to be 
 found. Each officer, as he drops in to 
 breakfast, tears off a piece and places it 
 in his pocket. A strange bit of ritual, yet 
 nowadays it excites no comment. That 
 wool is useful. It has been placed there 
 by the staff- surgeon. When the bugles 
 sound " General Quarters," you will see 
 officers, as they go to their battle stations, 
 extract from their pockets their supply 
 of cotton-wool, roll up small wads, and 
 insert them in their ears. If one has 
 
 T5
 
 ^() With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 ever heard the boom of a ten-inch gun, or 
 the ear - splitting bark of a fourteen- 
 pounder, no explanation of this proceeding 
 is necessary. Naval outfitters, I believe, 
 have lately invented a little celluloid 
 device for the protection of the ear during 
 gun-fire. As there are no naval outfitters 
 near, we must fall back upon simpler and 
 less expensive means. 
 
 But one must not only guard one's 
 ears from the noise of firing ; it is neces- 
 sary also to keep the teeth parted if 
 standing near the gun. 
 
 The Force of a Heavy Gun 
 
 It gives some idea of the violence of 
 heavy gun-fire, when one realizes the 
 damage that can be done by the mere blast 
 of air created by the discharge of its 
 projectile. On one occasion, when the 
 Triumph's men were summoned to action 
 stations very hastily, a small ventilator 
 on the quarter-deck was left uncovered. 
 During the engagement it became neces-
 
 A Day and a Night on the Deep 77 
 
 sary to fire the guns of the after-turret, 
 trained right aft. The blast sucked out 
 the air from the after-part of the ship, 
 practically creating a vacuum. The 
 damage thus caused was far more than we 
 received that day from the enemy's guns. 
 The cabins of the engineer commander 
 and the paymaster appeared a total wreck. 
 Washstands had come away from their 
 fastenings, rivets were loosened, bulkheads 
 bulged, electric-light fittings had fallen. 
 Water-pipes burst with the strain, and 
 in the contents of the bath-tanks which 
 washed the decks, fragments of wood 
 and plaster floated. A ladder was shaken 
 loose from its hinges and smashed. 
 
 Finding the Range 
 
 The lenient skipper gave me permission 
 to go into the foretop during the bombard- 
 ment of Fort Hamidieh at Smyrna. Up 
 that wire ladder to the search-light stage 
 on the foremast, then one clambers up 
 half a dozen iron rungs in the mast and
 
 78 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 through a trap-door into the top. There 
 is not much room, yet there are, besides 
 the commander and the gunnery lieu- 
 tenant, two observation officers, and men 
 at the voice-pipes and range-indicator. 
 The distance from the fort is judged at 
 14,000 yards. The range is communicated 
 through the Transmission Station to the 
 gunlayers in the turret. 
 
 Then the command is given. " Stand 
 by ! . . . Fire ! ! " 
 
 The fore-turret beneath our feet is fired. 
 Tnvohmtarily one catches one's breath. 
 The noise is indescribable ; the mast, 
 and with it the foretop, vibrates 
 violently ; the lurid flash seems for a 
 moment to envelop us all. Rrrrr ! The 
 noise does not come within the scope of 
 phonetics — the horrid shriek of the de- 
 parting shell, crescendo and diminuendo. 
 There is little breeze, and the dirty smoke 
 and the odour of cordite hang in the air. 
 One counts the seconds, and in the dis- 
 tance a huge waterspout indicates that 
 the shell has fallen short of the target.
 
 A Day and a Night on the Deep 79 
 
 " Two hundred short and a trifle to the 
 right," remarks the observation officer. 
 
 " Range : fourteen, two, nought 
 nought ; deflection, fifty left," sings out 
 the gunnery lieutenant, and this is re- 
 peated by the man at the voice-pipe. In 
 a moment one hears a voice coming up 
 from the Transmission Station, confirming 
 the range as they set their indicators. 
 " Stand by ! . . . Fire ! ! " 
 
 Again the same excruciating experience. 
 The roar, the flash, the vibration, the 
 shriek, the smell, the smoke. The seconds 
 are counted. This time the splash is 
 beyond the fort, which juts out into the 
 sea. 
 
 *' Hundred over." 
 
 For the next shot these ranges are 
 bracketed, and the appearance of a vol- 
 cano in the fort indicates a hit at 14,100 
 yards ! Now the range is found, and 
 deliberate fire is maintained until the 
 consequent damage to the fort makes 
 an approach to closer range possible. 
 
 V sp Sp
 
 8o With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 We have had supper in peace, well out 
 of range of enemy guns. 
 
 " Have some wool, padre ; there's going 
 to be some fun to-night." 
 
 I am presented by the young doctor 
 with a piece of cotton- wool. I had 
 not expected the news, but the trawlers, 
 under cover of darkness, are to continue 
 to sweep a passage through the mine-field, 
 and the Triumph has received a signal 
 from the flagship to protect them. She 
 is to fire on the search-lights and thus 
 prevent the operations of the mine- 
 sweepers from being revealed to the 
 gunners on the shore. 
 
 Nine o'clock. It is a perfectly dark 
 night. No stars, and the moon does not 
 rise till three a.m. The very night for 
 mine-sweeping. Slowly the darkened 
 ship steams to the Pelican Spit buoy, and 
 silently anchors, only a mile from the 
 shore batteries. All the fourteen-pounder 
 guns' crews are at their stations, well 
 supplied with shrapnel. No other am- 
 munition is of use for night firing. Only
 
 A Day and a Night on the Deep 8i 
 
 the blaze of bursting shrapnel indicates 
 where the shot falls. 
 
 The mine-sweepers are creeping in. 
 Suddenly the inky darkness is stabbed 
 by the piercing beam of a search-light. 
 The light slowly revolves, lighting up the 
 sea through a curious green haze. 
 
 Bang ! Bang, bang ! ! The guns bark. 
 The light is switched off. 
 
 Wait ! . . . Look ! The shell bursts 
 quite near to the place where a moment 
 before the search-light had appeared. From 
 another point a ribbon of light appears, 
 and again it is darkened as the flash of our 
 guns is seen. They dare only show their 
 lights spasmodically. If they showed 
 them long enough to enable them to 
 find our bearings, or that of the 
 mine-sweepers, they know they would 
 become a good target for the Triumph's 
 shrapnel. This game of flash and bang 
 continues through the night. Meanwhile 
 the plucky trawlers are advancing despite 
 the frequent, though somewhat erratic, fire 
 from the forts. 
 6
 
 82 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 Before the moon rises, the mine-sweepers 
 have returned, but not without some loss 
 of life. We weigh anchor, clear out of 
 range, and get a little sleep.
 
 A NIGHTIMARE 
 
 83
 
 X 
 
 A NIGHTMARE 
 
 What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears ! 
 What sights of ugly death within mine eyes ! 
 
 I HAVE heard folks describe an awful 
 nightmare, in which they feel some ap- 
 palling disaster approaching and find 
 themselves powerless to avert it. Per- 
 haps it is some fierce tyrant or some cruel 
 beast that is about to do them harm, and 
 their feet are glued to the ground. Escape 
 is impossible. They feel if only they 
 could do something the horror would 
 vanish. Invariably they wake up, before 
 the critical moment, to find their heart 
 palpitating with fear, and a nervous per- 
 spiration on their brow. 
 
 I confess to some such feeling on being 
 suddenly awakened at four o'clock one 
 
 85
 
 86 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 morning with the news that a certain ship 
 lying not far distant from us had been 
 torpedoed. The ship in question was an 
 aeroplane parent-ship, carrying, besides 
 aeroplanes, officers and mechanics, a 
 number of sick and wounded who were 
 waiting to be transferred to the hospital 
 ship. 
 
 Bad News in the Early Morning 
 
 When one is rudely awakened with 
 exciting news, the sudden shock to the 
 mind sometimes produces a state of alert- 
 ness which enables one to realize in a 
 flash all that is involved in the situation. 
 There rushed through my mind a series of 
 pictures : the sinking ship, the helpless 
 invalids, unable to do anything to save 
 themselves, my friend the young doctor 
 who only went to the ship two days 
 ago. The signal announcing the disaster 
 also stated that the other ships in the 
 squadron were under way. They had 
 lowered their boats to pick up the survivors
 
 A Nightmare B>y 
 
 and hastily steamed off to avoid a second 
 torpedo. 
 
 But what about the Triumph ? She 
 was anchored in deep water, off a small 
 island, with a collier made fast alongside. 
 She could not weigh anchor and cut the 
 coUier adrift. The collier had not steam 
 up and would certainly drift on to the 
 rocks. We were a splendid target for 
 the next torpedo! True, the ship was 
 darkened, but it was not long till dawn. 
 Miserere nobis ! 
 
 The Concomitant of " Funk '' 
 
 All this flashed through my mind in less 
 time than it takes to write. In the ward- 
 room opposite my cabin I could hear 
 voices discussing the situation. I joined 
 the group. The decoding officer held the 
 fateful signal in his hand. The engineer 
 lieutenant looked gloomy. Jones made 
 the cheery remark that he expected we 
 should " cop it " at sunrise. Let me be 
 frank. I experienced a strange feeling in
 
 88 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 the pit of my stomach, a sort of physical 
 nausea, the concomitant of " funk." You 
 have possibly heard the expression " cold 
 feet." It is a misnomer. A " quivering 
 diaphragm " better describes the sensa- 
 tion. I have since found that my ex- 
 perience was not unique. Indeed I have 
 learned to doubt those people who say 
 they never feel fear, unless, indeed, they 
 have not sufficient intellect to realise 
 danger. 
 
 However, there was nothing to do until 
 we were struck, if struck we were to be. 
 I commended myself to God, got back to 
 bed, and, curiously enough, slept. I was 
 awakened by the noise of the anchor being 
 weighed. I switched on the light. Six 
 thirty ! Though my cabin was dark by 
 reason of the deadlight over the scuttle, 
 doubtless it was daylight outside. Day- 
 light, and no torpedo ! Deo gratias ! 
 Hooray ! We made for another island 
 and coaled in a sheltered bay. 
 * * * 
 
 Later we heard the joyful news that the
 
 A BURIAL AT SEA. 
 
 88]
 
 A Nightmare 89 
 
 torpedoed ship had not sunk. She was 
 a German prize which had been hastily 
 fitted out as an aeroplane parent-ship. 
 Her cargo of timber had not been removed, 
 and it kept her afloat, in spite of an 
 enormous hole in her starboard bow. I 
 subsequently obtained from the doctor 
 who was on board a graphic account of 
 the adventure. The force of the explosion 
 threw him out of his bunk, and he found 
 the ship was rapidly listing. The lower 
 decks were awash. AVith the help of 
 some of the officers he succeeded in 
 getting all the sick into the boats. 
 Many of them were lowered in their 
 wooden cots, which had to be sawn 
 away from the bulkheads. The job was 
 not finished till daybreak, and the ship 
 seemed to be slowly settling. Snipers 
 from the shore attempted to prevent the 
 removal of the sick to the boats. The 
 ship's engines were not damaged, and 
 eventually she was able to draw out of 
 range and proceed for repairs. 
 
 The incident becomes more interesting
 
 90 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 by reason of the fact that it was during 
 an armistice that these events happened. 
 By mutual consent a cessation of hostilities 
 had been arranged until 10 o'clock on the 
 following morning. 
 
 A few days later a telegram appeared in 
 Turkish and German papers to the ejFfect 
 that a large British transport had been 
 sunk by a torpedo off that particular 
 island I
 
 THE HEALING MEDICINE OF MIRTH 
 
 91

 
 XI 
 THE HEALING MEDICINE OF MIRTH 
 
 Under the heavy shadow of war's eclipse, 
 None asks of you to wear a shroud of gloom, 
 
 To let the laughter fade upon your lips 
 Or simulate an air of tragic doom. 
 
 Out in the trenches yonder, where they die 
 For love of country and our common birth, 
 
 There, least of all, they cast a jealous eye 
 Upon the healing medicine of mirth. 
 
 " O. S." in Punch. 
 
 Jack Tar is an incorrigible wag. "Our 
 canteen is doing very well now. I 
 think we shall soon be having turkey 
 for breakfast instead of sausage." The 
 phrase is from a bluejacket's letter home. 
 All the men's letters have to pass the ship's 
 censor, and in the earlier days they were 
 not allowed to reveal the whereabouts of 
 their ship. One would have thought that 
 such a subtle reference to the Dardanelles, 
 
 93
 
 94 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 as that mentioned above, might have 
 eluded the vigilance of the censor. Much 
 experience enabled him to see the joke, 
 but no one else save the addressee was 
 likely to understand its meaning. Well, 
 our friend on the lower deck has had his 
 change of diet ; though doubtless his 
 palate detects a flavour of sausage in 
 the Turkey. Perhaps it is the stuffing. 
 
 Yes, he is a wit. Who else would 
 venture to treat with such scant respect 
 the death-dealing forts with which he is 
 daily confronted ? He dubs them with 
 pet names ! The forts at Kum KaH will 
 ever be known to him as " Sandy Boy " 
 and " Old Jim," names reminiscent of a 
 ship's concert a week before. Cape Tekel 
 was, of course, immediately blessed with 
 the cognomen '' Tickle Point," and the 
 famous De Tott's battery suffered the 
 indignity of the affectionate diminutive 
 "Little Tot." These have become clas- 
 sical names to the men in the Triumph. 
 Even the dignified gunnery experts had 
 to bow to the inevitable force of public
 
 The Healing Medicine of Mirth 95 
 
 opinion, and would solemnly give in- 
 structions to their gun-layers to train on 
 " Old Jim " or '' Totty," as the case 
 might be. 
 
 The Spirit of the Officers 
 
 Officers are no less guilty of waggish- 
 ness, knd at moments when one would 
 think there was little time for levity. 
 We were steaming out of range after 
 a particularly hot engagement. The 
 Triumph had been under an inconvenient 
 cross fire. Shells had been shrieking over 
 her and occasionally bursting on her 
 armour. The enemy's gun positions were 
 well concealed, and until the gun-layers 
 had become accustomed to the terrain, 
 it was difficult to make any effective reply. 
 The situation was relieved by the timely 
 arrival of the Swiftsure. She at once took 
 on battery " X " leaving the Triumph free 
 to concentrate on " Y." These works 
 were thoroughly searched, and one by 
 gne the enemy's guns ceased firing.
 
 g6 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 The fore-control officers had had a 
 particularly nerve-racking time in their 
 exposed position, several shells having 
 passed quite near to the foretop and 
 fallen into the sea on our starboard bow. 
 As we were steaming away after the action 
 the Triumph found time to make the 
 following signal to her sister ship : " Fore- 
 control officers Triumph to ditto Swiftsure. 
 Do you bob ? " Shortly a reply was 
 received : " Fore- control Swiftsure to 
 ditto Triumph. No ; we only bow." 
 
 Cheery Souls These ! 
 
 On another occasion, as we rejoined 
 the fleet after the day's work, we noticed 
 that a certain battleship had been changing 
 her dress during the day. She was painted 
 with curious black daubs, an effect which, 
 on the dull grey background, may have 
 been useful at long distance to reduce her 
 visibility, but at close quarters was gro- 
 tesque. Officers on the bridge were joking 
 at her expense, and the Captain made a
 
 The Healing Medicine of Mirth 97 
 
 signal : " Captain to Captain : I think 
 your funnels and bows look very artistic." 
 A reply was flashed back : " Thanks. 
 Don't mistake mc for a cloud." 
 * * * 
 
 Letters always produce great excite- 
 ment in a ship, and the bluejacket seems 
 to delight to tell his messmate all the 
 news, whether the letter happens to be 
 from his mother or his sweetheart. 
 " Fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind," 
 and life in a man-o'-war produces a strange 
 family spirit. The other day a pert 
 destroyer brought us a mail under the 
 very guns of a recently demolished fort, 
 and within sight of the Turkish look-out ! 
 How annoyed they must have been that 
 these amenities of life should continue 
 right under their noses ! 
 
 This mail brings bad news. We hear 
 that there are strikes at home, and we 
 partly believe it, knowing as we do some- 
 thing of the British workman and the 
 conditions under which he works. The 
 Jack Tar is not a capitalist, nor has he 
 
 7
 
 98 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 any inherent respect for wealth. More- 
 over he knows from his own brothers at 
 home how often these industrial outbreaks 
 occur, how repeatedly they are smoothed 
 over, and how little is done to get at their 
 root. He is eminently anxious to see fair 
 play. 
 
 Almost to a man, their message to the 
 worker at home now, to employer as well 
 as to employed, is just this ; "Be a sport ; 
 don't let us down ; play the game. At 
 times like this there's plenty to grouse 
 about, here as well as there, but let's wait 
 till it's over, and in the meantime stand 
 the racket, even if it don't seem fair ! 
 War isn't all honey, boys, at home or 
 abroad. Weeks of salt pork, no butter, 
 canteen run out of ' fags,' never a ' make 
 and mend ' for heaven knows how long " 
 (a * make and mend ' is a naval synonym 
 for a half-day ' off '), *'and ' night defence * 
 weeks on end takes it out of you ; but just 
 keep smiling ! " That is a resume of 
 many conversations I have listened to on 
 the mess decks.
 
 The Healing Medicine of Mirth 99 
 
 I overheard a delightful dialogue during 
 action the other day. Two E.R.A.'s 
 (i.e. engine-room artificers) were talking. 
 One was good-humouredly complaining 
 that he had not had a good night's sleep 
 for over a week. " Tell yer what, matey," 
 he finished up, " when I get back to ' Guz ' 
 and go home for a spell, I am going under 
 war routine ! I am going to darken ship, 
 close down all hatches, and sleep for two 
 days on end ! " " Ho, ho ! will yer ? " 
 replied the other; " you'll have to get th' 
 Admiral's permission to do that. That's 
 the worst of being married ! " 
 
 * * * 
 
 No, it isn't all honey. On a certain 
 occasion this month, at a fort considerably 
 south of the Dardanelles, after several 
 days' heavy bombardment, a truce was 
 arranged by mutual consent. From 10 
 a.m. till 4 p.m. hostilities were to cease 
 while negotiations proceeded. Every ship 
 in the squadron hoisted a white flag. 
 The Triumph's was improvised out of 
 numerous sick-bay sheets sewn together !
 
 100 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 It was a welcome respite, for the men had 
 had a strenuous time day and night, and 
 were glad of a " stand easy." We were 
 lying off, within easy range of the shore 
 batteries. Groups of officers stood about 
 on the quarter-deck speculating as to the 
 nature of the negotiations. On the fo'c'sle 
 men were sitting about yarning and 
 smoking, rejoicing in a rest amid such 
 gorgeous scenery. " We'll get our dinner 
 in peace to-day for a change," some one 
 remarked. 
 
 Circumstances proved otherwise. At 
 12.25 shrapnel shells burst all round us ! 
 One was a little short ; another was over ; 
 a third a " wide." The ship's company 
 were at dinner, groups of them were 
 sunning themselves " forrard." Every 
 one automatically hastened to his battle 
 station. The indignation of the men 
 was intense. As I passed down the 
 ladders I overheard much of their views, 
 expressed in the choicest lower-deckese. 
 A great deal is unprintable, but their chief 
 complaint was that the enemy should
 
 The Healing Medicine of Mirth loi 
 
 have chosen their dinner hour for this 
 exhibition of frightfulncss. 
 
 Our white flag was hauled down, and 
 in eighty seconds every man was at his 
 station, not a few with pieces of salt pork 
 and hunks of bread in their hands. The 
 less fortunate, in their hurry, had only 
 succeeded in grabbing slabs of "duff." 
 Within three minutes the range had been 
 found, and an effective fire of 7 '5 " salvos 
 was returned, silencing their guns and 
 blowing up a magazine. At 12.37 the 
 captain drew the ship out of range to 
 enable the ship's company to enjoy the 
 remainder of their dinner hour. Sub- 
 sequently permission was obtained to 
 return and complete the destruction of 
 the battery by deliberate fire. From 
 12.25 to 12.37 was what our allies call 
 " un mauvais quart d'heure,'' but it was 
 the busiest I have ever seen.
 
 A "MAKE AND MEND" 
 
 103
 
 XII 
 A "MAKE AND MEND" 
 
 '. ... My Mariners, 
 
 Souls that have toil'd, and wrought and thought with 
 
 me — 
 That ever with a froHc welcome took 
 The thunder and the sunshine. . . . 
 
 Scene : wardroom. Time : towards the 
 end of the first dog watch, say 5.45 
 p.m. Officers forgather, healthily hot, 
 sparingly clad, obviously thirsty. 
 
 Since the forenoon there has been no 
 bombardment. The free afternoon has 
 been celebrated by a " make and mend." 
 Tired matlows have slept, in odd places, 
 in odder attitudes. Energetic ones have 
 washed clothes, or written letters in view 
 of the possibility of a mail departing in 
 the near future. After tea, officers, having 
 doffed their blues and donned flannels, 
 
 105
 
 io6 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 have been taking exercise on the quarter- 
 deck. A strange but strenuous game, to 
 wit that known as " sand-bagging," has 
 been in progress since five o'clock. It is 
 worth knowing this " jeu de sand-bag.^' 
 
 If the sail-maker is good tempered, he 
 can be induced to sew up, in flat, circu- 
 lar, canvas envelopes, quantities of sand 
 weighing about six pounds. Two such 
 missiles are the only instruments necessary 
 for this fascinating sport. All else is 
 supplied by dexterous hands and nimble 
 feet. Experience teaches that a few re- 
 serve bags are desirable, for in the limited 
 field of a battleship's quarter-deck an 
 " outside " is an " overboard," and the 
 mermaids and dolphins cannot be induced 
 to " throw in." 
 
 " S.O.B.'s AND B.Y.S.'s " 
 
 To-day there are numerous players, 
 and the more the merrier. 
 
 " What's it to be to-day ? " asks the 
 agile young doctor, recovering his normal
 
 Q 
 K 
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 O 
 
 a 
 
 z 
 o 
 
 K 
 
 a 
 o 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 a 
 u 
 
 o
 
 A ''Make and Mend" 107 
 
 stance after frequent vain efforts to walk 
 upon his hands. 
 
 '* Same sides as before," suggests the 
 torpedo lieutenant, " S.O.B.'s versus 
 "B.Y.S.'s." 
 
 Now it must be noted that the torpedo 
 lieutenant is rapidly becoming inelegantly 
 corpulent. It is clear to the most casual 
 beholder that not without difficulty has 
 he thrust his obese frame into those 
 whites. It is whispered that he finds the 
 negotiation of the narrow iron ladders and 
 tortuous passages which lead to his torpedo 
 flat an increasing hardship. Tell it not 
 in Gath, but he is beginning to regard 
 sand-bags as a means of grace ! 
 
 " So be it, your corpulency. Get your- 
 selves sorted. Let's see who's who. 
 S.O.B.'s starboard ; B.Y.S.'s port." 
 
 Two lines are drawn up. On the one 
 hand all the decrepit ineptitude of the 
 wardroom ; on the other its youth and 
 beauty. At least so the B.Y.S.'s regard 
 it. The staid three-stripers, who are my- 
 steriously dubbed S.O.B.'s, would doubt-
 
 io8 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 less say that the sides represented the 
 wisdom and dignity of the service versus 
 the brainless babes who unnecessarily 
 decorate it. It is a matter of opinion. 
 
 The starboard line includes the com- 
 mander, lithe and youthful for the dignity 
 of an S.O.B., and the torpedo lieutenant 
 above-mentioned, familiarly known as John 
 Bull. He much resembles that worthy in 
 quantity and quality. The glory of side- 
 whiskers, recently acquired, add to the 
 resemblance. There is the dashing cap- 
 tain of marines, known to his intimates 
 as ''^ the soldier." One would think that 
 His Majesty's forces contained no other. 
 The staff-surgeon, dignified with premature 
 grey hairs, fastidiously tended, and the 
 gunnery lieutenant, boisterous and rubi- 
 cund, add to the picturesqueness, if not 
 to the strength, of the S.O.B.'s. 
 
 " Casey Jones " 
 
 A tall figure appearing suddenly from 
 the wardroom hatchway is hailed by
 
 A ''Make and Mend'* 109 
 
 a chorus of yells. " Becky, you must 
 play ! " " Come and raise a sweat, Pilot." 
 But no ; Lieutenant-Commander Sharp 
 (N), with the perennial twinkle in his 
 grey eyes, and the unceasing twitch of 
 his upper lip, will not play. " Correcting 
 charts," he mournfully explains, and pro- 
 ceeds bridgewards. 
 
 The port Hne, the B.Y.S.'s, has in it 
 the engineer lieutenant, cryptically known 
 as " Casey Jones." His praises are daily 
 ground out by an effete gramophone which 
 adorns the wardroom. The repertory of 
 the said gramophone has as its piece de 
 resistance a strange song concerning a 
 " brave engineer," but what he did to 
 merit the title cannot be heard above the 
 din of engines and the escape of steam 
 which form a running accompaniment to 
 the words of the songster. The lieutenant 
 of the Royal Marine Light Infantry also 
 graces the B.Y.S.'s. His title is the 
 "young soldier," thereby accentuating 
 his inferiority to the dashing captain in 
 the starboard line. Some watch-keepers,
 
 no With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 assistant-paymasters, the young doctor, 
 and the Padre complete the B.Y.S. team. 
 
 " Take yom- places," some one sings 
 out, and the players arrange themselves, 
 alternately an S.O.B. and a B.Y.S. , in 
 two parallel lines. 
 
 " A dummy run to begin with," sug- 
 gests " Number One," id est, the gunnery 
 lieutenant. 
 
 The two end players are standing each 
 side of a mushroom-head ventilator. That 
 is " home." Three times they strike 
 " home " with the sand-bags, and then 
 each throws his missile to his colleague in 
 the opposite line. At once it is sent back 
 to the man of the same " side " facing 
 him, and so the bags go in zig-zag course 
 to the end of the line, and return by a 
 similar route. The " dummy run " safely 
 accomplished, each player knows the man 
 to whom he is to throw the ball. The 
 game now begins in earnest. 
 
 " Stand by ! Go ! " Bang, bang, 
 bang, on the ventilator head, and quick 
 as lightning the sand-bags fly from hand
 
 A *' Make and Mend " in 
 
 to hand on their zig-zag course. As they 
 come back to the end player each time, 
 they must be banged " home " before the 
 next journey is begun. Ten times con- 
 stitutes a game, and the side that gets 
 there first is the winner. Occasionally in 
 their flight the bags meet and fall, and 
 there is a melee of struggling humanity 
 fighting for their recovery. That con- 
 stitutes the genius of the game. A skilful 
 player will produce such a denoue^nent at 
 the psychological moment, and a swift 
 recovery often means time gained over 
 one's opponents. The excitement is 
 punctuated by savage shouts and yells. 
 *' Go it, S.O.B.'s ! We're one ahead ! " 
 " Oh, soldier, you butter-fingers ! " 
 " Chuck it higher, you blighter ! " 
 " Come on, B.Y.S.'s, we're gaining ! " 
 " Don't stop to embrace the bally bag, 
 send it straight on, you fool ! " 
 
 " Ugh ! Careful of my midriff, 
 
 you . . . ! Sorry, Padre." 
 
 " We're one ahead. Now for it ! " 
 " Eight : Splendid ! "
 
 112 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 " Nine : Oh, we're nearly there ! " 
 " Ten ! ! ! Good egg. We're one up." 
 Then the player at the bottom of the 
 line moves to the top, and the whole 
 column moves down one. The process 
 is continued until the rubber is completed. 
 Not a bad game, and under such con- 
 ditions as make more reputable forms of 
 sport impossible, a game well worth culti- 
 vating. It has points over deck hockey, 
 which, however, is occasionally attempted 
 for a change. 
 
 Well, a little skipping, or some leap- 
 frog perhaps, to finish the hour; but 
 already most of the B.Y.S.'s and all 
 the S.O.B.'s have evaporated. The latter 
 may be found reclining in the wardroom, 
 panting, sweating, wheezing, imploring 
 the more youthful to procure for them 
 liquid refreshment prior to the bath.
 
 A PREVIOUS ATTEMPT 
 
 8 113
 
 XIII 
 A PREVIOUS ATTEMPT 
 
 Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers, and I linger on 
 
 the slf^ore, 
 And the individual withers, and the world is more and 
 
 more. 
 
 More than a hundred years ago, in 
 circumstances very different from those 
 which prevail at present, a British Fleet, 
 under Admiral Duckworth, was directed 
 to force the Dardanelles, and, if necessary, 
 to bombard Constantinople. 
 
 In Campbell's " Lives of British Ad- 
 mirals " an excellent account of the 
 attempt is given. From it important 
 lessons were learned, and though the 
 conditions of naval warfare to-day bear 
 little resemblance to those which faced 
 Admiral Duckworth in 1807, yet it is clear 
 that provision has been made to prevent 
 
 115
 
 ii6 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 a recurrence of the ill-success which at- 
 tended his efforts. 
 
 As the book is not easily accessible to 
 the general reader, Campbell's description 
 is worth quoting. 
 
 " The French," he writes, " who cer- 
 tainly excel us in diplomatic intrigue, had 
 for a long time possessed great influence 
 at the court of Constantinople. Their 
 influence, however, had been destroyed by 
 the attempt of Buonaparte against Egypt ; 
 and the British nation, on the other hand, 
 by the victory of Aboukir, and their 
 subsequent expulsion of the French from 
 Egypt, had been very popular with the 
 Porte. 
 
 " In consequence, however, of the war 
 between Russia and Turkey, which had 
 been produced by the intrigues of the 
 French, Britain was threatened with hos- 
 tihties with the Porte also. The British 
 Ministry at that time, consisting of the 
 Fox party, endeavoured to reconcile Russia 
 and Turkey, but finding their efforts 
 ineffectual, they resolved to interfere in a
 
 A Previous Attempt 117 
 
 more efficient manner. For this purpose 
 Admiral Duckworth was directed to pro- 
 ceed, with seven sail of the line, a frigate, 
 and two sloops, to force the Dardanelles, 
 and bombard Constantinople, if certain 
 terms should not be acceded to by the 
 Turkish government. 
 
 "On March 19 (1807)," he continues, 
 " Admiral Duckworth proceeded to fulfil 
 his orders. The fire from the outer castles 
 annoyed his ships but very little, but 
 a very heavy cannonade was directed 
 against them between Sestos and Abydos 
 from both these castles, and within point- 
 blank shot. The fire was returned by the 
 British squadron, and with such effect, 
 that by the time the sternmost vessels 
 passed it had slackened considerably, and 
 they sustained very little damage. 
 
 " Sir Sidney Smith was directed by 
 Admiral Duckworth to the attack of a 
 small Turkish fleet, which was at anchor 
 to the north-east of the castles ; this 
 enterprise he performed most effectually, 
 the vessels being driven on shore, where
 
 ii8 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 they were destroyed. A detachment of 
 marines was also sent from the Active who 
 succeeded in spiking the guns of a formid- 
 able battery at Point Pesques. 
 
 Off Constantinople 
 
 " On the evening of the 20th, the 
 squadron anchored about eight miles from 
 Constantinople. Mr. Arbuthnott, who 
 had been our Ambassador there, but who 
 had sought refuge on board Admiral Duck- 
 worth's ship, now sent his despatches on 
 shore under a flag of truce. In conse- 
 quence, one of the Turkish ministers came 
 off to wait on the Ambassador, and it was 
 supposed from the conversation that took 
 place that matters would be amicably 
 settled. Soon afterwards, however, the 
 Ambassador was taken ill, and the Admiral 
 was under the necessity of carrying on 
 the negotiation. It continued to the 27th, 
 and during this interval such, unfortun- 
 ately, was the state of the weather, that 
 the Admiral could not occupy such a 
 position as would have enabled him to
 
 A Previous Attempt 119 
 
 have given more effect to the negotiation, 
 by threatening the city with bombardment. 
 " He threatened indeed, but the Turks 
 well knew that he could not execute his 
 threats ; and they lengthened out the 
 negotiations, knowing that thus they 
 would be strengthened while their op- 
 ponei;its' situation would daily become 
 more critical and dangerous. The time 
 which had been employed by the English 
 commander in empty threats, had been 
 occupied by the Turks in the most active 
 and effectual preparations. The whole line 
 of the coast presented a chain of batteries ; 
 twelve line of battleships w^ere ready with 
 their sails bent, and filled with troops ; an 
 innumerable multitude of small craft with 
 fire vessels had been collected ; and there 
 was besides a large army at Constan- 
 tinople. 
 
 Failure of the Attempt 
 
 " It was evident from this, that even 
 if the weather had been favourable for 
 an attack, the issue of it must have been
 
 120 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 extremely doubtful ; and if Admiral Duck- 
 worth did succeed, it was still necessary 
 to repass the Dardanelles ; and how could 
 this be done with ships disabled by the 
 previous attack ? 
 
 " The idea of waiting for a wind to 
 bombard the city was now abandoned ; 
 and the Admiral, wounded both in his 
 pride and ambition, on April 1 weighed 
 anchor, and by the next day at noon 
 every ship had cleared the passage of the 
 Dardanelles. The passage, however, was 
 attended with great danger. The fire of 
 the inner castle, which had been severe in 
 the first passage, was doubly formidable 
 on the return. The Windsor Castle was 
 struck by a granite shot of eight hundred 
 pounds' weight. The killed and wounded 
 during the passage amounted to a very 
 considerable number ; the damage also 
 done to the rigging and hulls of most of 
 the ships was very great. In the whole 
 of this fatal and disastrous enterprise 
 about three hundred British officers and 
 seamen were killed and wounded.
 
 A Previous Attempt 121 
 
 " It is evident from this account of the 
 enterprise that it was ill-planned. Cer- 
 tainly troops ought to have been put on 
 board the ships for the purpose of occupy- 
 ing the castles which defended the passage. 
 If the passage had thus been rendered 
 clear, the fleet might have waited till the 
 weather became favourable for the bom- 
 bardment or attack of Constantinople." 
 
 Amphibious Warfare 
 
 In the present campaign, from the out- 
 set, the authorities who were actually on 
 the spot directing operations claimed 
 that the work must essentially be one of 
 an amphibious character. The AlHed 
 Fleet to-day is not so dependent, as was 
 Admiral Duckworth's, upon favourable 
 winds. But weather conditions inevit- 
 ably affect the operations of any fleet, 
 and during the early stages of the attack 
 it was repeatedly found that when rough 
 seas made effective bombardment im- 
 possible, favourable opportunity was given
 
 122 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 to the enemy to do repairs, and to get 
 into position movable batteries and howit- 
 zers. 
 
 When, for example, after the reduction 
 of the forts at the entrance, bad weather 
 confined the work of the fleet to patrolHng, 
 the interval was profitably used by the 
 Turks, and, on resuming the attack, the 
 ships were embarrassed by the fire of field 
 guns which had been brought down the 
 coast. The presence of land forces could 
 doubtless have prevented these measures. 
 
 Tips from Tsingtau 
 
 Although the Triumph, when bombard- 
 ing at close range, had on more than one 
 occasion such success that enemy guns 
 were actually seen to be slewed round 
 or knocked upward, the reduction of 
 land fortifications by ships' guns is gener- 
 ally regarded as a matter of doubtful 
 success, however close the range may be. 
 The experience of the Triumph at Tsingtau 
 was valuable. She had learned to dis-
 
 A Previous Attempt 123 
 
 trust silenced forts. Often guns would 
 reopen fire after hours of silence had 
 given the impression that they were out 
 of action. In the Dardanelles, only by 
 putting ashore " demolition parties " could 
 the complete destruction of the guns be 
 assured. And this is hazardous work. 
 
 Effectiveness of the Marines 
 
 Parties of marines from the ships were 
 but a mere handful in comparison with 
 the forces on shore, and not infrequently, 
 in the earlier days of the attack, they 
 suffered heavily at the hands of the 
 enemy who, in superior numbers, were 
 entrenched behind the forts. The arrival 
 of a large contingent of the Naval 
 Brigade from England was greeted with 
 great joy, and when, shortly afterwards, 
 numerous transports brought the French 
 troops, it was clear that the magnitude of 
 the enterprise had not been under-esti- 
 mated. Then, as each day filled the 
 harbour with more and more ships, ships
 
 124 With the Fleet in the Dardanelles 
 
 coming from all directions, and bringing 
 with them English, Scotch, and Irish regi- 
 ments, and regiments from far Australia 
 and New Zealand, the spirit of cheery 
 optimism, which ever marks the British 
 Tar, was manifested in a degree rarely 
 seen before. 
 
 The last century has brought with it 
 many changes, not least in the art of war, 
 and a comparison of the work of the Allied 
 Fleets and Armies operating now in the 
 Dardanelles, with the ill-starred attempt of 
 Admiral Duckworth's " Seven sail of the 
 line, a frigate, and two sloops " in 1807, 
 gives some indication of its evolution. 
 
 Primed hj Hazelly Watson & Viney, Ll., London and Aylaibury.
 
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