To the fallen soldier: On the trail of a World War I campaign in Gallipoli

Marked with graves of fallen soldiers, the Turkish peninsula of Gallipoli is a land of memorials.

Please let me know if any one of you has relatives buried on the peninsula, and I’ll try my best to take you there.” These are the first words our guide, Burak, says to our group of 19. Burial was the last thing on my mind on the five-hour picturesque bus ride I’d just been on from Istanbul to Eceabat, passing through rolling countryside by the beautiful Sea of Marmara, and then by the Dardanelles (Turkish name Çanakkale Boðazý) and finally into the Gallipoli peninsula (Gelibolu Yarimadasi). This peninsula gave its name to a legendary battle theatre 104 years ago — one that may have determined not just the outcome of World War I, but also of world history.

I have an interest in 20th-century military history, cultivated when the occasion permits by visits to battlefields. I still vividly remember my visit to the D-Day landing beaches at Normandy in 1999 and the pristinely preserved American cemetery, which was in contrast to the German war cemetery that had a rough and bedraggled look about it. Although little was left of the actual battle theatre, apart from some pillboxes, it didn’t take a lot of imagination to transport me back to 1944 and picture the carnage on beaches like “Bloody Omaha”. So, I was quick to act on a friend’s suggestion that I visit Gallipoli when she heard I was going to Turkey. From the many choices for tours to Gallipoli, I felt Crowded House was the most appropriate, given that it had the same name as an antipodean band whose founding members were, aptly, from Australia and New Zealand.

A mural at Çanakkale Martyrs Memorial

In 1915, the Ottoman Empire, which in its heyday was one of the most powerful in the world, had come to be called the “Sick man of Europe”. It did, however, still control the Dardanelles, a stretch of water that connected the Aegean to the Black Sea and onwards to Russia. Lured by the German offer of ships, arms, ammunition, soldiers and commanders, it joined their side in the Great War.

In what was later perceived to be the greatest failure of Winston Churchill, the First Lord of the Admiralty, a plan was formulated for an Allied landing on the Gallipoli peninsula, which would carry on through to Constantinople via the Dardanelles. Opening a route to Russia could bring in much needed supplies to 12 million Russian soldiers and bring the war to a speedy end. If successful, this could have also led to the carving up of modern-day Turkey as we know it between the Allied forces.

Çanakkale Martyrs’ Memorial located within the Gallipoli Peninsula Historical National Park

The British and the French were to be joined by colonial forces, including significant numbers from Australia, which had recently become an independent nation, New Zealand, and also 14,000 soldiers of the Indian Army. The British and French were to land at separate points near the tip of the peninsula and the Anzac (Australian and New Zealand Armed Corps) forces were to land further up. It was intended that both forces would, over the course of the day, meet at the narrowest point of the Dardanelles from where they could then press on to Constantinople and Moscow.

At 4.30 am on April 25, the Anzac forces landed at a point, which in 1985 was named Anzac Cove by the Turkish government, and a bitter, nine-month-long campaign ensued. It ended with defeat for the Allies, the evacuation of 80,000 men from the peninsula and a quarter of a million casualties on both sides.

Contrary to myth, perpetuated in part by the Mel Gibson-starrer Gallipoli, Burak tells us the Anzac Corps were not massacred as they landed. The 650-metre stretch of beach was protected by headlands, securing the troops from Turkish artillery. Still, the headlands had to be scaled, but beyond them was just a Turkish detachment of some 80 observers who after expending their ammunition began to flee inland.

The graves of three Indian soldiers

They were stopped in their tracks by Mustafa Kemal, a Turkish colonel of the 19th Division, who, becoming aware of the landings, had begun moving his troops forward. He ordered the observer group to use their bayonets and form a defensive line. This first line of resistance as the Allied forces climbed the headlands gave the Turks time to rally their forces. Kemal, who was later given the title Ataturk, forged the identity of modern Turkey in 1923 from the ruins of the Ottoman Empire. Gallipoli was a career defining moment for him. 

There are more than 85 memorials scattered across the peninsula, and as we drive across it, we spot numerous walkways marked to them. The entire area, stretching over 33,000 hectares, was turned into a national park — the Gallipoli Peninsula Historical National Park, also referred to as the Peace Park — in 1973. 

Our trip, however, is focused on some of the major battle scenes and memorials. Our first point is the Ari Burnu Cemetery, where Burak directs the Aussies and the Kiwis to where their respective countrymen lie buried. I notice a Maori woman singing a low song, On enquiry later, she tells me that this is a greeting first to all who lie buried here and will be followed with a specific prayer for her countrymen. Her shirt bears the words “Kei Wareware Tatou”, Maori for “Lest we forget”.

A sculpture at the Çanakkale Martyrs Memorial

Towards a corner are the graves of three Indians: Imam Din, Allah Ditta and Husain Khan of the 22nd Mule Corps. They are separated by red rose bushes. The Mule Corps along with the Indian mounted artillery had landed with the Anzacs, while the Sikh and Gurkha regiments arrived with the British. 

The sacrifices made at Gallipoli are believed to have gone a long way towards forging Australia’s sense of nationhood. Every year at 4.30 am on April 25, named Anzac Day in 1916 by the Australian government, a dawn service is held at the Anzac commemorative site at Gallipoli. Thousands of people, many of whom arrive the night before with their sleeping bags, attend it.

The point at which the Anzac forces landed on the morning of April 25, 1915

Apart from knowing the topography better, the Turks were also more experienced campaigners, but underestimated by the Allies, Burak explains. An illustration of this was the comment by Brigadier General George Johnston, that “they were going to jolly up the Turks”. It is in his memory that the next stop of our tour is named, Johnston’s Jolly Cemetery. Adjacent to it, barely 10 metres apart, are the Turkish and Allied trenches and tunnels. The bulk of the fighting was guerilla skirmishes, which were no less bloody in their outcomes. Three thousand soldiers from the Anzac Corps were to die on the first day of the campaign alone.

Our next stop on this beautiful spring day is a memorial to soldiers who went lost and missing (one in three of the Aussies and one in five of the Kiwis). Named Lone Pine, due to the single pine tree there, it was known as the 400 (acre) plateau or as the Turks called it, “Bloody Ridge”. It saw 8,000 casualties over three days of August, and Kemal famously ordered his men of the 57th Regiment that “he did not want them to attack, he wanted them to die”, and in a few hours, those tragic words rang true. 

Names of the Gallipoli Australian Infantry martyrs; Anzac Cove

The sacrifices made by both sides were considerable. Perhaps the most poignant is the photograph Burak shows us of Private James Charles (“Jim”) Martin, who died at the age of 14 years 9 months at Gallipoli and is believed to be the youngest soldier on the roll of honour.

What impresses me most is that despite the fact that they ended up on the losing side in the First World War and that they were invaded by the Allies, the Turks have paid the most immense respect to those who fell, in words and deeds. 

The Turkish and Allied trenches and tunnels

There is one major Turkish memorial in the Anzac sector, and that to the aforementioned 57th Regiment, which also has a large statue of Ataturk. Ataturk’s letter to Australian mothers is inscribed at a memorial near Anzac Cove, and a part of it goes as follows: 

“Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives ... You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours ... You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.”