24th May 1915

[michaeldr]

from the Anzac chapters of ‘Mons, Anzac & Kut’ by Aubrey Herbert

We had the truce yesterday [24th May 1915]. I was afraid something might go wrong, but it went off all right. Skeen, Blamey, Howse, V.C. Hough and I started early. Skeen offered me breakfast but, like a fool, I refused. He put some creosote on my handkerchief. We were at the rendezvous on the beach at 6.30. Heavy rain soaked us to the skin. At 7.30 we met the Turks, Miralai Izzedin, a peasant, rather sharp, little man; Arif, the son of Achmet Pasha, who gave me a card, "Sculpteur et Peintre," and "Etudiant de Poésie." I saw Sahib and had a few words with him but he did not come with us. Fahreddin Bey came later. We walked from the sea and passed immediately up the hill, through a field of tall corn filled with poppies, then another cornfield; then the fearful smell of death began as we came upon scattered bodies. We mounted over a plateau and down through gullies filled with thyme, where there lay about 4000 Turkish dead. It was indescribable. On was grateful for the rain and the grey sky. A Turkish Red Crescent man came and gave me some antiseptic wool with scent on it, and this they renewed frequently. There were two wounded crying in that multitude of silence. The Turks were distressed, and Skeen strained a point to let them send water to the first wounded man, who must have been a sniper crawling home. I walked over to the second, who lay with a high circle of dead that made a mound round him, and gave him a drink from my water-bottle, but Skeen called me to come on and I had to leave the bottle. Later a Turk gave it back to me. The Turkish captain with me said: "At this spectacle even the most gentle must feel savage, and the most savage must weep." the dead fill acres of ground, mostly killed in the one big attack, but some recently. They fill the myrtle-grown gullies. One saw the result of machine-gun fire very clearly; entire companies annihilated--not wounded, but killed, their heads doubled under them with the impetus of their rush and both hands clasping their bayonets. It was as if God had breathed in their faces, as "the Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold."

The line was not easy to settle. Neither side wanted to give its position or its trenches away. At the end Skeen agreed that the Turks had been fair. We had not been going very long when we had a message to say that the Turks were entrenching at Johnson's Jolly. Skeen had, however, just been there and seen that they were doing nothing at all. He left me at Quinn's Post, looking at the communication trench through which I had spoken to the Turks. Corpses and dead men blown to bits everywhere. Richards was with me part of the time: easy to get on with; also a gentleman called indifferently by the men Mr. or Major Tibbs. A good deal of friction at first. The trenches were 10 to 15 yards apart. Each side was on the qui vive for treachery. In one gully the dead had got to be left unburied. It was impossible to bury them without one side seeing the position of the other. In the Turkish parapet there were many bodies buried. Fahreddin told Skeen he wanted to bury them, "but," he said, "we cannot take them out without putting something in their place." Skeen agreed, but said that this concession was not to be taken advantage of to repair the trench. This was a difficult business.

When our people complained that the Turks were making loopholes, they invited me into their trench to look. Then the Turks said that we were stealing their rifles; this came from the dead land where we could not let them go. I went down, and when I got back, very hot, they took my word for it that we were not. There was some trouble because we were always crossing each other's lines. I talked to the Turks, one of whom pointed to the graves. "That's politics," he said. Then he pointed to the dead bodies and said: "That's diplomacy. God pity all of us poor soldiers."

Much of this business was ghastly to the point of nightmare. I found a hardened old Albanian chaoush and got him to do anything I wanted. Then a lot of other Albanians came up, and I said: "Tunya tyeta." I had met some of them in Janina. They began clapping me on the back and cheering while half a dozen funeral services were going on all round, conducted by the chaplains. I had to stop them. I asked them if they did not want an Imam for a service over their own dead, but the old Albanian pagan roared with laughter and said that their souls were all right. They could look after themselves. Not many signs of fanaticism. One huge, savage-looking Anatolian looked curses at me. Greeks came up and tried to surrender to me, but were ordered back by the Turks pretty roughly.

Considering the number of their men we had killed, they remained extraordinary unmoved and polite. They wouldn't have, if we had been Russians. Blamey came to say that Skeen had lost H. and wanted me, so he, Arif and I walked to the sea. The burying had not been well done. It was sometimes impossible to do it. . . .As it went, we took our rifles from the Turkish side, minus their bolts, and gave the Turks their rifles in the same way. . . .

Our men gave cigarettes to the Turks, and beyond the storm-centre at Quinn's Post the feeling was all right. We sat down and sent men to look for Skeen. Arif was nervous and almost rude. Then Skeen came. He told me to get back as quickly as possible to Quinn's Post, as I said I was nervous at being away, and to retire the troops at 4 and the white-flag men at 4.15. I said to Arif: "Everybody's behaved very well. Now we must take care that nobody loses his head. Your men won't shoot you and my men won't shoot me, so we must walk about, otherwise a gun will go off and everybody will get shot." But Arif faded away. I got back as quickly as possible. Blamey went away on the left. I then found that the Turks' time was eight minutes ahead of ours, and put on our watches. The Turks asked me to witness their taking the money from their dead, as they had no officer there. They were very worried by having no officer, and asked me if anyone were coming. I, of course, had no idea, but I told them I would see that they were all right. They were very patient. . . .

The burying was finished some time before the end. There were certain tricks on both sides.

Our men and the Turks began fraternizing, exchanging badges, etc. I had to keep them apart. At 4 o'clock the Turks came to me for orders. I do not believe this could have happened anywhere else. I retired their troops and ours, walking along the line. At 4.7 I retired the white-flag men, making them shake hands with our men. Then I came to the upper end. About a dozen Turks came out. I chaffed them, and said that they would shoot me next day. They said, in a horrified chorus: "God forbid!" The Albanians laughed and cheered, and said: "We will never shoot you." Then the Australians began coming up, and said: "Good-bye old chap; good luck!" And the Turks said: "Oghur Ola gule gule gedejekseniz, gule gule gelejekseniz" ("Smiling may you go and smiling come again"). Then I told them all to get into their trenches, and unthinkingly went up to the Turkish trench and got a deep salaam from it. I told them that neither side would fire for twenty-five minutes after they had got into the trenches. One Turks was seen out away on our left, but there was nothing to be done, and I think he was all right. A couple of rifles had gone off about twenty minutes before the end but Potts and I went hurriedly to and fro seeing it was all right. At last we dropped into our trenches, glad that the strain was over. I walked back with Temperley. I got some raw whisky for the infection in my throat, and iodine for where the barbed wire had torn my feet. There was a hush over the Peninsula.

[For the full text go to http://www.ku.edu/carrie/texts/world_war_I/Mons/mons2.htm]

[steve fuller]

Wow! Thanks Michael. Ive had the snippet below for a while & never knew where it came from. It looks identical, although much abridged, but Im grateful for access to the full text.

"The Honourable Aubrey Herbert was a British Officer responsible for organizing one of the occasional truces agreed to clear ‘No Mans Land’. “We mounted over a plateau and down through gullies filled with thyme where there lay about 4000 Turkish dead. It was indescribable. One was grateful for the rain and the grey sky…. There were two wounded crying in that multitude of silence … The Turkish Captain with me said ‘At this spectacle even the most gentle must feel savage, and the most savage must weep’. The dead filled acres of ground, mostly in the one big attack but some recently. They filled the myrtle grown gullies. One saw the result of machine gun fire quite clearly; entire companies annihilated – not wounded, but killed, their heads doubled under them from the impetus of their rush and both hands clasping their bayonets. It was as if God had breathed on their faces… A good deal of friction at first. The trenches were 10 to 15 yards apart. Each side was on the qui vive for treachery. In one gully the dead got left unburied. It was impossible to bury them without one side seeing the position of the other… I talked to the Turks, one of whom pointed to the graves and said ‘That’s politics’ he said. Then he pointed at the dead bodies and said ‘That’s diplomacy. God pity all of us poor soldiers’… At four o’clock the Turks came to me for orders. I do not believe this could have happened anywhere else. I retired their troops and ours, walking along the line. At 0407 hours I retired the white flag men, making them shake hands with our men. About a dozen Turks came out. I chaffed them, and said they would shoot me next day. They said in a horrified chorus ‘God forbid!’ The Albanians laughed and cheered and said ‘We will never shoot you’. Then the Australians began coming up, and said ‘Good bye old chap. Good luck!’ And the Turks said ‘Oghur ola gule gule gedejekseniz, gule gule gelejekseniz’ (Smiling, may you go and smiling come again). "

Thanks once again Michael - powerful stuff indeed.

[The Plummed Goose]

yes ... very powerful indeed.

It is not the first time I read these ... and it won't be the last ...

It just makes me think ... Why ???

eric

[The Plummed Goose]

By the way ... something on Major Herbert ...

Takes from JulSnelders' website ...

Major the Hon. Aubrey Herbert

Without any doubt one of the most colorful figures in the history of Gallipoli. As Military Intelligence Officer, an appointment he got because of his mastery of Turkish and Arabic, he served as interpreter for the Anzac force. During the cease fire after the ill-fated Turkish attack of 19th May 1915, he organized the procedures to bury the dead, and himself served as a hostage during the negotiations with Major Kemal Ohri at Anzac.

In his 'Gallipoli Memories', Compton Mackenzie mentions him, some days before, on board of the Arcadian, when he had come from Anzac to ask Hamilton's permission for the truce to bury the dead :

"I had the chance of a long gossip with him as we walked round and round the deck in a series of rapid diagonals, for Aubrey was so short-sighted that he really could not see well enough to walk straight. I think he was holding forth passionately about the woes of the Turks and the beauty of their characters, gripping my arm from time to time and exclaiming 'My dear, we must do this,' or 'My dear, we must do that.'

As we zigzagged along I suddenly became aware that a shape was following our course, though what that shape was, I did not dare for a moment to look round and ascertain, so acutely was I aware of a menace, an almost diabolical menace in its shadowing. At last I plucked up courage to turn my head. Imagine my dismay when I saw the Commander of the Arcadian, his cheeks an angry crimson, stalking along the deck after us with the air of one who is tracking a pair of assassins. The faintness of despair came over me. His eyes protruding like a Bateman admiral's were fixed upon a meandering line of ink-stains that stretched from one end of the deck to the other. I looked at Aubrey. Yes, there in the pocket of his service-jacket, or rather fixed to the outside of it, was a fountain-pen that was dripping with every step he took. I played a coward's part.

'Aubrey,' I said, 'I must run now. And, by the way, I think your pen's leaking or something.'

I cannot remember what steps were taken to restore the Commander of the Arcadian to consciousness; but I do remember that those ink-spots were still traceable when we went ashore ten days later." (Compton Mackenzie)

What is less known about Aubrey Herbert, and may well explain his thorough knowledge of the Near East, is the fact that he was the brother of the Earl of Carnarvon, better known as the Lord Carnarvon who financed Howard Carter's archaeological work in Egypt, which finally led to the discovery of Tutanchamen's tomb in 1922.

[michaeldr]

Eric,

AUBREY HERBERT by D. MACCARTHY

AUBREY HERBERT was born at Highclere on April 3rd, 1880. He was the eldest son of the 4th Earl of Carnarvon by his second marriage. His mother was Elizabeth, daughter of Henry Howard, of Greystoke. He was educated at Eton and a Balliol. Between 1903 and 1905 he was honorary attaché first at Tokio, then at Constantinople, after which he travelled extensively in the Turkish provinces. He married in 1910 Mary Vesey, only child of Viscount de Vesci, and in 1911 entered Parliament as Conservative member for the Yeovil Division of Somerset, a constituency which he held till his death. He had resigned his commission in his yeomanry regiment, the North Devon Hussars, in 1913, and consequently on the outbreak of war he was free to obtain a commission in the Irish Guards. He landed with them in France on August 13th. This book is a record of his war service up to the middle of 1916. Afterwards he was an intelligence officer at Salonika, and later in Italy, and in the last months of the war he was the head of the English Mission attached to the Italian Army in Albania, when he had the temporary rank of Lieutenant-Colonel. He died on September 26th, 1923.

[For the full text see: - http://www.ku.edu/carrie/texts/world_war_I/Mons/mons.htm]

Mackenzie described him thus; “like Falkland, Aubrey Herbert had in the words of Clarendon a ‘flowing and obliging humanity, a primitive simplicity and integrity of life.’”

And in turn Herbert described Mackenzie’s temporary fiefdom of Mytilene (another island for the collection & V. good Ouzo)

“It is this space and liberty that men cramped in a siege desire more than the freedom from the shelling of the enemy’s guns. There was much, too, that was opera bouffe in the Islands, that made a not unpleasant contrast to the general life at Anzac.”

Their lives (particularly CM’s) were a sharp contrast to that endured by my grandfather and his mates in the trenches – the only quiet island he saw at this time, was Malta from a hospital bed. Nevertheless, I enjoy the writing style of both men.

Regards

Michael D.R.