Gallipoli Campaign - Reasons of failure?

[hen190782]

Hi

I have to produce a 300 word summary on why the Gallipoli Campaign failed - I know it is a big subject but a few pointers would be helpful.

Thanks

Nigel

[John_Hartley]

Poor planning

Insufficient troops

Poor execution.

Lack of understanding how well defended it was.

[redbarchetta]

With the last one being the chief cause of the first three...

[hen190782]

Thanks guys.

Would the poor planning have been at top level (Churchill/Admiralty), at the high command level in the Med or by senior commanders on the ground.

Would any particular character stand out ?

Nigel

[hazelclark]

The buck stops with Kitchener I think. He certainly didn't feel they needed more men. This was likely because of the fourth point mentioned. and they didn't want to remove any from the Western Front. So they sent the Australians who had stopped off in Egypt. The army commanders on the ground were much criticized, but likely they were initially labouring under the same illusion as their superiors. Churchill was not in favour of "boots on the ground". He wanted a naval only operation.

The above posts are a wonderful synopsis! Will try to remember that.

Hazel C

[hen190782]

_{Hazel - Thanks. I know the decision use land forces was taken in March 1915 - was there dissension between Churchill and Kitchener over this decision, I wonder?}

[BFBSM]

The biggest issue from what I have read was the length of the lines of communication, and poor leadership; Ian Hamilton did not seem to be willing to be the boss and would not make the tough decisions regarding those under him, e.g. Lt Gen. Frederick Stopford at Suvla. Also there seemed to be a complete lack of understanding by the Officers commanding of what the final objectives were. General staff work was also crap, as it was throughout 1915, mainly due to lack of experience of those in Staff positions.

Mark

[hen190782]

Thanks, Mark.

I do not suppose morale matters were helped when Hamilton was dismissed and Mahon (10th (Irish) Division) relinquished his command after being over-looked to replace Hamilton.

Nigel

[gilly100]

Should this not be moved to the Gallipoli subsection where it might gain more response?

[hen190782]

Gilly - did not realise there was a Gallipoli sub-forum

[T8HANTS]

I think there was a degree underestimating just how well the Turks would fight when defending their homeland, and their way of life from a foreign aggressor. Despite Sir Ian frequently using the expression “As fierce as a Turk” in speeches pre-war.

Kitchener’s whole attitude in this area was coloured by his experiences of the French collapse during the Franco Prussian War, it certainly coloured his attitude to Territorials.

Had anybody informed the Turks they were supposed to surrender when the fleet appeared off Constantinople, or would they have moved their Government and carried on?

[Crunchy]

here isa paper I delivered at a recent conference;

GALLIPOLI: A flawed strategy

In the debate between “Westerners” and “Easterners” the strategy of the Gallipoli campaign looms large: one side maintaining it simply drew off scarce resources from the principal theatre of war and the main enemy, while the other argues it was a brilliant conception flawed only in its execution. It is an example, supporters say, of Liddell-Hart’s strategy of the indirect approach. That bypassing the stalemate of the Western Front and using the naval might of Great Britain and France, Turkey could have been knocked out of the war, and the conflict shortened. It was a campaign, others claim, that came agonisingly close to success - the subject of Winston Churchill’s “ terrible ‘ifs’.” It is hard, however, to reconcile the theory with the reality.

As a strategy of the indirect approach, Gallipoli was nothing of the sort. The premise of the indirect approach is that the attacker avoids a line of operation that confronts the enemy head one, or assails his strength. Instead it proposes, from the enemy’s perspective, taking the line of least resistance against a sensitive objective that will disrupt his equilibrium, and by upsetting his physical and psychological balance will lead to victory with fewer casualties. It places strength against weakness from an unexpected direction.

For the allies faced with stalemate on the Western Front, with big hands on small maps, the idea of bypassing Germany and attacking her weakest partner may have seemed an attractive option. For Germany, however, it was hardly an indirect approach to her war fighting capabilities or a sensitive objective. Nor was it likely to disrupt her equilibrium, or upset her physical and psychological balance. Knocking Turkey out of the war was unlikely to knock the props from under Germany, and or even mildly affect her ability to continue waging the war.

Looking down into the theatre of operations, where the rubber would hit the road, from Turkey’s perspective, the allied strategy of attacking via the Dardanelles was a direct approach through the front door. Not only was it along the line of greatest expectation, but with a strongly fortified Dardanelles it was also along a line of great resistance. Thus in considering a strategy of the indirect approach, one should not be blinded by the big sweep illusion if at the point of application it evaporates.

Nor was the Gallipoli strategy based on sound assumptions and pragmatic assessments, either of the strategic aim or the means and chances of achieving it. The view that Turkey was easy pickings came from the presumption that it was the sick old man of Europe. After the humiliating defeat in the Balkan Wars it was assumed the Turks would simply crumble. Churchill’s view of ‘scandalous, crumbling, decrepit, penniless, Turkey’ echoed the prevailing view in Britain. His comment ’a good army of 50,000 men and seapower, that is the end of the Turkish menace’, and Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Skeen’s that the Turk ‘has never shown himself as good a fighter as the white man’ summed up opinions of the Turkish naval and military capabilities.

The Ottoman’s, however, had undertaken drastic military reforms following their Balkan’s defeat, with incompetent commanders being replaced with men of demonstrated ability, new training programs, and the integration of the reserves into the active divisions. They were a more formidable foe than the British thought.

The first shots of the campaign were fired before any serious consideration of an appropriate strategy was undertaken. On 29 October 1914, an Ottoman flotilla bombarded Russian installations bordering the Black Sea, triggering Turkey’s entry into the war. In an impulsive action that Admiral Sir Roger Bacon described as ‘an act of sheer lunacy’ and Admiral Sir John Jellicoe considered ‘an unforgivable error,’ Winston Churchill, the First Lord of the Admiralty, immediately ordered the British Mediterranean squadron to bombard the forts at the entrance to the Dardanelles.

Carried out on 3 November, two days before Britain declared war on Turkey, it served no strategic or operational purpose, achieving little other than encouraging the Turks to hasten their defensive preparations on the peninsula. This ill-considered decision presaged the approach the British War Council would take in its discussions on naval and strategy leading up to the campaign.

Time does not permit a thorough account of the Council’s deliberations, which Robin Prior has described as discursive, rambling and incoherent.

By any measure their approach to strategy was disjointed and lacked clarity of thought, as they moved back and forth between proposed naval-military operations against German islands in the North Sea, in the Baltic, against the Belgian and Syrian coasts, a couple of Balkan ventures, as well as the Dardanelles. It was within this dysfunctional and shifting atmosphere the Gallipoli campaign was conceived. As an example of the development of a joint naval-military strategy it bears all the hallmarks of muddled thinking, and wildly, overoptimistic expectations.

The idea of a Dardanelles campaign emerged as early as August 1914, when Churchill asked the Chief of the Imperial General Staff to examine the feasibility of seizing the Gallipoli peninsula using a Greek army. What Churchill hoped to achieve by attacking a still neutral Turkey is not known. Rather than any considered strategic thought, he may have been driven by the humiliation suffered when the Ottoman’s acquired two German warships that had evaded the British Mediterranean Fleet in the first week of war. These replaced two British built battleships due to be delivered when Churchill requisitioned them in August. Subsequently the British Naval Mission, which had been advising Turkey on naval matters, was dismissed, and a German-Turkish alliance was announced, although Turkey remained neutral.

In November, when the War Council considered the defence of the Suez Canal, Churchill argued a combined naval-military operation to take the Gallipoli peninsula would best achieve this, optimistically commenting that, ‘if successful, would give us control of the Dardanelles, and we could dictate terms to Constantinople.’

How simply holding the peninsula and controlling the Dardanelles would enable the Allies to dictate terms to the Ottoman Government was not explained. The army, moreover, was stretched to its limits maintaining sufficient forces in France, and Field Marshal Lord Kitchener, Secretary of State for War, responded no troops could be made available for the venture, and the idea lapsed.

In late December, presenting an option to overcome the stalemate on the Western Front, Maurice Hankey, Secretary to the War Council, proposed a coalition among the Balkan States, Greece, Bulgaria, Romania and Russia to ‘weave a web around Turkey to end her career as a European power.’ The ultimate object was to occupy Constantinople, the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus. Opening up this sea route Hankey argued, would enable wheat to be exported to the allies. Britain’s contribution to the alliance would be three army corps. This received some support within the War Council, especially from Churchill and Lloyd George, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, despite several difficulties: the British Army was struggling to maintain four corps in France and Belgium; the withdrawal of three of them would have seriously weakened the Western Front and created an open breach with the French; the proposed members of the coalition were deeply suspicious of each other; and several of them were still neutral. The proposal received no endorsement.

The fuse was finally lit on 2 January 1915 when the Russians requested a demonstration against the Ottoman Empire to relieve pressure on the Caucasus Front. Kitchener floated the idea of a purely naval demonstration, noting ‘the only place [it] might have some effect in stopping reinforcements going east would be the Dardanelles.’

Next day, in a rambling memorandum reflecting fanciful ideas rather than realities, Admiral of the Fleet Lord Fisher, First Sea Lord of the Admiralty, proposed a combined operation be mounted immediately. He envisaged the Indian Corps and 75,000 British troops being withdrawn from France for an attack on the Asiatic shore south of the Dardanelles; the neutral Greeks capturing the Gallipoli peninsula; the neutral Bulgarians marching on Adrianople; and the neutral Rumanians joining the Russians and Serbs in an attack against Austria. At the same time, he wrote, the Royal Navy should ‘force the Dardanelles’. Fisher’s memo simply ignored the same problems and implications associated with Hankey’s proposed alliance, and was an extraordinary piece of poorly conceived advice.

Churchill, however, seized on the final point. He immediately cabled Admiral Sir Sackville Carden, commanding the British Mediterranean squadron, seeking advice on the feasibility of forcing the Dardanelles by naval gunfire alone, noting older battleships would be used, and “Importance of results would justify severe losses.” The cable seems to have been worded to elicit a positive result, rather than seek a pragmatic assessment. Carden replied while the forts could not be rushed, they ‘might be forced by extended operations with large numbers of ships.’ Asked for a detailed plan, Carden proposed a four-stage step-by-step operation with a probable time of a month. This was enough for Churchill who, against Fisher’s advice, took the proposal for a purely naval operation to the War Council.

Kitchener again advised no troops were available, but considered a naval demonstration was worth attempting, noting that it could be cancelled should the bombardment prove ineffective. This fueled Churchill’s enthusiasm, but there were fundamental differences between Kitchener’s idea, Fisher’s intent, and Churchill’s proposal. Kitchener suggested a naval demonstration that could be abandoned if it proved ineffectual; Fisher proposed a full blown naval-military operation against the peninsula and the Asiatic shore; while Churchill advocated a purely naval assault up the Dardanelles. These varying views of the objective continued to pervade future discussions, and failed to clarify the aim of the strategy, and the objectives of the operation to be embarked on.

Swayed by Churchill’s enthusiasm, and his claims of the capabilities of the 15 inch guns of the new battleship, HMS Queen Elizabeth, which he would add to Carden’s squadron, the Council gave planning permission for the Admiralty ‘to prepare for a naval expedition ... to bombard and take the Gallipoli peninsula with Constantinople as its objective.‘ As an example of vague strategic and operational direction and wishful thinking, the Council’s permission could hardly be bettered. One wonders, for example, how the Navy was expected to “take the peninsula” which at the time was occupied by three Ottoman infantry divisions, and substantial numbers of troops garrisoning the fortified and mobile batteries there.

Fisher continued to object to a purely naval attack, but much to his dismay, the War Council formally approved the operation on 28th January. This was despite accepted naval wisdom that attacks by warships against forts without military help rarely produced worthwhile results, and against the naval advice that a combined naval-military operation was the only realistic option. Ironically, Russian successes in the Caucasus meant the original request for a demonstration was no longer required, but they neglected to advise the British.

Concerns now arose about the Serbs who were in need of urgent assistance. Britain and France each proposed to send one infantry division to Salonika to guard Greece’s communications, while the still neutral Greek’s were to be induced to march to Serbia’s aid. Kitchener agreed to release the 29th Division as Britain’s contribution. The project was soon dropped, but Kitchener had undermined his argument that no troops could be made available for the Dardanelles.

On 13 February the Admiralty, having no faith in the purely naval attack, now pressed its case for a combined operation. Three days later, the War Council directed the 29th Division be despatched to Lemnos, and arrangements be made to send additional troops from Egypt. This was not, however, an endorsement of a combined naval-military assault. The troops were ‘ to be available in case of necessity to support the naval attack on the Dardanelles.’ It would still be a naval operation, with army support only should it be needed. However, most members of the War Council still saw the operation as a naval attack that could be broken off if unsuccessful.

Further confusion followed. On 19 February, the same day the naval operation began, Kitchener argued the 29th Division could not be sent to the Dardanelles. Instead he offered the partially trained Australian and New Zealand Army Corps (ANZAC). Unable to change Kitchener’s mind, the Council reversed its earlier decision, leaving the navy to push on alone to implement a strategy it had no faith in; the result of conflicting views, poor advice, ill-considered decisions, and confused objectives.

This confusion of the aim and objectives became immediately apparent. Without the consent of the War Council, Churchill trumpeted the supposed success of the opening day's bombardment in a press announcement. Hankey recorded its effect on the Council: 'The announcement had a remarkable effect on the attitude of the War Council. When the decision had been reached to undertake the naval bombardment it had generally been assumed that the attack could be broken off in the event of failure. But when the War Cabinet met on February 24^th, notwithstanding that the Outer Forts had not yet been finally reduced, it was felt that we were now committed to seeing the business through.' Thus as a result of Churchill’s announcement, the intention now became to force the Narrows.

How realistic was it, however, to expect the Navy to subdue the forts, take the peninsula and force the Dardanelles? Carden’s force comprised 17 battleships, the battle cruiser Inflexible, two cruisers, two light cruisers and several destroyers. While impressive on paper, 16 of the battleships were pre-dreadnoughts dating from between 1895 and 1906, most of which were considered expendable. Only Queen Elizabeth and the battlecruiser Inflexible were considered modern warships. Furthermore, the minesweepers required to clear the minefields were unarmed North Sea trawlers, operated by their civilian crews who were unwilling to work under fire. Confronting them was a formidable obstacle.

The Dardanelles is 61 kilometers long, and at between 1. 2 to six kilometers wide, the whole length of the waterway can be covered by gunfire. In the narrower portions, there is little or no room for manoeuvre under gunfire. The strongest defences were in the lower half, where the Canakkale Area Fortified Command, controlled over 300 guns, ranging from 35.5 cm to 4.5 cm pieces, arrayed along both shores of the strait. Of these, over 100 of the heaviest calibres were in fortified batteries, with the strongest concentration around the Narrows, where any warship was a sitting duck. The remainder were in twenty-five mobile batteries between Cape Helles and the Narrows, which could be moved to alternative firing locations, and avoid shelling from the ships. Supplementing them were ten minefields, with a total of 344 mines, laid across the waterway in the restricted waters approaching the Narrows. It was highly optimistic to think that Carden’s antiquated ships alone could destroy these defences to enable unimpeded sailing up the strait, let alone do it in a month. Even if they did, having slogged their way up the Dardanelles, on entering the Sea of Marmara the surviving vessels would have to fight the Ottoman fleet, including the modern ex-German battlecruiser Goeben manned by its German crew, which had the advantage of being able to cross the Allied fleet’s “T “ as it emerged from the narrow strait.

Even had the Anglo-French fleet been able to overcome these enormous challenges, and appeared outside Constantinople, how realistic was it they would overawe the Ottoman Empire into capitulating? This assumes that once a nation’s capital is threatened, or captured it will surrender. Such a view ignored the numerous examples where this did not occur. For example, the Russians in 1812; the Confederates when Richmond was threatened in 1862, and they later moved the seat of government when the city fell in 1865; as did the French when the Prussians besieged Paris in 1870, and the Germans threatened it in 1914. It was highly likely the Ottoman Government would do the same, and continued directing the war from Anatolia. Furthermore, there is evidence the Turks intended to defend their capital, against a Fleet that had been ordered not to fire on the city. An expected capitulation under these conditions was wishful thinking in the extreme.

The commitment of the army followed a similar line of flawed thinking and operational planning on the run. Stating after Churchill’s press announcement that '[t]he publicity of the announcement has committed us.‘ Kitchener issued instructions to warn ANZAC to be ready to embark “to assist the navy ...give any co-operation ... required ... and to occupy any captured forts”. In response, the partially trained 3rd Australian Brigade embarked for Lemnos on 2nd March. The navy would now have some military support, but given the unreadiness of the brigade, its influence would be minimal and largely restricted to occupation duties, that is, should the Turkish III Corps elect to roll over.

By 10 March 1915 the naval effort had made little headway, and Kitchener changed his mind, advising the 29th Division could now support the Navy. The next day General Sir Ian Hamilton was appointed to command the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force (MEF). With a hastily arranged staff he departed London on 13 March. Kitchener’s instructions were that any large-scale land operations were only to be contemplated if the fleet failed to penetrate after every effort had been exhausted. He added that, ‘[h]aving entered the project of forcing the Straits, there can be no idea of abandoning the project.’ For the Army, the possibility of the Dardanelles becoming an unwanted, alternative theatre of operations was quickly becoming reality.

Ignoring that stage two of Carden’s four-stage operation was nowhere near complete, on 13 March Churchill now decided to force the Dardanelles. Contrary to his previous advice, Carden agreed to attack the forts at the Narrows (stage three) with his entire force, while silencing the inner batteries and clearing the minefields (stage two) under cover of this attack. Then, suffering a nervous breakdown, he requested leave and departed the scene. This was hardly an endorsement of the forthcoming attack. On 18 March, while Hamilton undertook a reconnaissance of the Aegean coast, the Anglo-French fleet steamed into the Dardanelles determined to blast its way through, only to suffer defeat and the loss of three battleships, and three so badly damaged they were out of action for some time, including the modern battle cruiser Inflexible. This represented a loss of one-third of the main battle fleet for no gain. Contrary to the belief the Turkish guns were running short of ammunition, a theme first established by Winston Churchill, only four of the fourteen permanent forts had engaged the fleet on 18 March. While ammunition in these batteries had been depleted, but not exhausted, substantial quantities remained in the remaining forts, including those of the inner defences covering the Narrows.

Having seen the concluding stages of the battle, Hamilton was convinced the straits could not be forced by the fleet alone. Cabling London, he advised that rather than playing a subsidiary role, the army should undertake ‘ a deliberate and progressive military operation ... to make good the passage of the Navy.‘

Kitchener replied “ if large military operations on the Gallipoli peninsula are necessary to clear the way, they must be undertaken, and must be carried through.’

Churchill acquiesced and cabled that a combined naval-military operation was now essential. Thus in the space of a few cables, and without reviewing the situation, the strategy was changed and the roles reversed. The army, with a force never intended to mount an offensive operation, would now take the lead, with the navy providing support.

How realistic was this new approach? Hamilton’s MEF was an ad hoc formation in every sense. Cobbled together under a hastily formed General Headquarters, it comprised formations and units in various stages of training and capabilities. The best trained were the British 29th Division and probably the French Corps Expeditionnaire D’Orient (CEO), but even they were new formations. The 29th was formed in early 1915 from regular units withdrawn from garrisons around the Empire. Likewise, the CEO was an infantry division largely created from drafts in the regimental depots from a mixture of French, Algerian, Senegalese and Foreign Legion units. The Royal Naval Division (RND) was a mixed bag; a brigade of trained Royal Marines and two brigades of raw Royal Naval Reserve volunteers excess to requirement, and now training as infantry. It had no artillery and was short of support troops. In a similar category was the partially trained ANZAC. While the 1st Australian Division was at full strength, the New Zealand and Australian Division had only two infantry brigades and was short of artillery and other arms and service units. Neither ANZAC nor the RND could be regarded as ready for offensive operations.

Opposing them was the new Ottoman Fifth Army, comprising the III and XV Corps, and the independent 5th Division, giving a total of six divisions largely composed of well trained combat veterans. III Corps was regarded as the best in the Ottoman Army, having performed well during the Balkan Wars. It was assigned the defence of the Gallipoli Peninsula as early as September 1914, and had worked hard in developing the defences and practicing anti-invasion drills.

The only compensation for Hamilton was the Fifth Army had to cover 150 miles of coastline. The strongest defences were at the isthmus covered by the 5th and 7th Divisions; on the Asiatic shore defended by newly formed XV Corps, comprising the veteran 3rd and 11th divisions; and at Cape Helles, defended by two battalions, supported by a field artillery battalion, and twenty-seven howitzers of the Fortified Command’s Tenger Artillery Group. Elsewhere the coast was held lightly, with strong reserves positioned inland.

Hamilton’s objective was to clear the batteries covering the Dardanelles. To do the job properly required both shores to be cleared, but this task was beyond the capabilities of his resources. He had insufficient troops to clear both shores, and the approach from the Asiatic shore would open up a long and vulnerable right flank, and eventually swallow up his whole force. Besides, Kitchener had forbidden him to attack there. The only option left was the peninsula.

One approach was land on the western coast opposite the Kilid Bahr plateau, which sits like a great bastion astride the peninsula, and drive straight for it. Overlooking the narrowest portion of the Dardanelles, the plateau is a strong natural defensive position, housing the heavy artillery fortifications covering the Narrows. Securing it first would not only eliminate these guns, but would also isolate the Ottoman forces in the south, enabling the remaining batteries to be taken by an advance from the high ground to the low. Hamilton would have preferred to land his whole force as close to the Kilid Bahr plateau. Because of insufficient small craft, the beach space was so cramped that men and stores could not be put ashore, and from his reconnaissance noted all the natural landing places, except Cape Helles, were covered with an elaborate network of trenches, he rejected the idea. Unbeknown to him, however, the coast here was lightly held. Furthermore, a landing in this area, would have mean’t his line of communication between the beach and the plateau was open to attack on both flanks.

Had he thrown his whole force ashore there, and succeeded, it might have gone down as an example of the strategy of the indirect approach. The approach lay on a line of least resistance and expectation, as the Turks expected the main attack to come either at the isthmus or on the Asiatic shore, with the third priority being an attack on Cape Helles.

Hamilton eventually decided his main attack would be at Cape Helles, which he believed was lightly held, supported by a subsidiary attack and two feints.

The two feints would occur on the Turkish flanks. Against the isthmus the RND transports would make a demonstration in Gulf of Saros to hold the 5th and 7th divisions in place. On the Asiatic shore the French would undertake a limited landing at Kum Kale to prevent the Turkish field batteries there from engaging the Helles landing, and stop reinforcements being sent from XV Corps. Forced by the limited beaches available at Helles, the main assault was spread over five small and widely dispersed beaches, to be followed by an advance taking the longest route to the Kilid Bahr plateau in the teeth of enemy resistance. His flanks, however, would be secure, and the navy advised they could provide fire support from the flanks in enfilade to his advance. Once the 29th Division had secured the Achi Baba feature, they would be reinforced by the CEO for the push to the plateau.

The subsidiary attack would be made against the Sari Bair range, with the ultimate objective of taking the Mal Tepe ridge, cutting the north-south road communications, and hopefully drawing off Turkish reinforcements from the main thrust. This was entrusted to the inadequately trained ANZAC, and although they scored an initial success with overwhelming numbers against a light screen, they lacked the experience to complete such a complex offensive operation.

Irrespective of which plan Hamilton adopted, being confined to the peninsula, the army could only do half the job. The obvious weakness was that the batteries on the Asiatic shore remained a threat to any shipping in the Dardanelles. Most of them were mobile guns which could move when engaged, and most of the fortified batteries on that shore were beyond the crook of the Narrows, making them difficult targets for naval gunfire, unless they lay almost under them. Considering the naval efforts to date, there was no guarantee they would be any more successful in subduing them, or getting through the ten lines of minefields without further loss. Nor was there any guarantee they could clear all the minefields, although they no longer had to contend with fire from both shores. Even if the Asiatic guns could have been subdued by the Navy, there was the very real probability that once the fleet passed, Ottoman mobile batteries would return to interdict the waterway and disrupt the transports needed to support any occupation of Constantinople. Thus the army’s strategy to assist the fleet was just as flawed as the naval strategy to force the Dardanelles, and expect Constantinople to capitulate to the fleet.

The strategic use of armies and navies in an expeditionary role has generally seen the navy convey the army, launch it on a distant shore and support it in subsequent operations. At Gallipoli the reverse was true. The army was despatched belatedly to support a faltering naval operation, but it was worse than that. The intended role of the army was premised on the assumption it would secure the forts after they had been reduced by the navy, and garrison the peninsula. It was only after Hamilton arrived, that a full blown amphibious assault was decided on, and that with an ad hoc and inadequate force poorly prepared to do the job.

In the realm of maritime strategy and armies, Gallipoli is an example of how not to proceed. Conceived on a gross underestimation of the enemy, and a fanciful strategic aim, both the naval assault and the subsequent army operation were cobbled together with little real analysis, and were assigned inadequate resources to do the job. They evolved through the muddled thinking of the British War Council, and Churchill’s unfounded enthusiasm. Although Churchill had been the strongest advocate of the venture, the War Council was not well served by Kitchener or Fisher. Despite being competent officers technically within their own Services, both failed in their responsibility to provide sound and pragmatic advice to facilitate educated decisions at the strategic level. Fisher’s ill-judged proposal of 3rd January simply fanned Churchill’s determination to wage war on the Ottoman Empire, when more measured and pragmatic advice was needed. Kitchener’s opposition to committing military forces was undermined when he agreed to release the 29th Division for the equally suspect Salonika venture. While Fisher tried to put the brakes on the naval operation, he eventually succumbed to an operation he had no faith in. So did Kitchener, who allowed the army to be dragged into a campaign it neither wanted nor could resource properly. Neither Fisher nor Kitchener presented a sound case on the merits or otherwise of the campaign, or the resources required to prosecute it to a successful conclusion. Instead they eventually acquiesced in a fanciful strategy and poorly conceived operation, echoing Julian Corbett’s pre-war concern ‘How often have officers dumbly acquiesced in ill-advised operations simply for lack of mental power and verbal apparatus to convince an impatient Minister where the errors of his plan lay?’. Succumbing to Churchill’s enthusiasm, the loudest voice carried the day in the Council. It was a critical failure in collective strategic direction, and operational resourcing that current leaders could do well to remember.

[hen190782]

Wow, that is great !