The Dardanelles Conspiracy Alan Bardos (reading a book txt) 📖

‘How many casualties did we take?’ Breitner asked.

‘Reports are still coming in, but by all accounts, they’re light. We’ve been very lucky.’ Dolly shrugged. ‘If they’d pressed on, who knows how long the ammunition would have lasted. We are down to the last of our long range high explosive shells.’

‘How are the rest of our stocks?’ Breitner wondered.

Dolly laughed. ‘You can never have too much. I’ve requested more, but I doubt that it will get here in time.’

‘Are there enough shells to stop them if they come back?’

‘I’m not a clairvoyant, my dear Laszlo, but one thing I can tell you is that they still have to clear the minefields before they can get through. Regardless of how many ships they sacrifice, and there’s not much hope of them doing that until they stop using fishing boats as minesweepers. Or there will be plenty more surprises for the Allies.’

‘That was certainly quite a surprise,’ Breitner said, remembering the shock he felt when the Bouvet sank. ‘Do you think it was our hit or a mine that sank her?’

‘Oh, it was definitely our hit. We must have damaged one of her magazines, but she probably struck a mine as well.’ Dolly smiled with a gunner’s pride. ‘A week or so ago we noticed that the Allies liked to use Erenkeui Bay to circle around, after they’d finished their attacks. So an associate of mine in the Kaiserliche Marine and a Lieutenant Colonel Geehl, went out in the middle of the night and laid a vertical line of mines adjacent to the Asian shore. Right in the path of any allied ships that chose to take that route.’

‘And the Allies didn’t detect the mines?’

‘If they swept the area, they missed them. They’ve been running reconnaissance flights, but the Colonel laid the mines at a depth where they can’t be seen from the air.’ Dolly looked up at the greying sky as if the spotter planes had come back. His face showed real concern for the first time that day.

‘A storm’s going to break soon, we need to get the repairs finished before it starts.’ Dolly called down to his men. ‘Hey, you lazy bastards, forget about stuffing your faces, there’s work to do.’

***

Sir George Smyth managed to suppress the urge to vomit. The churning in his stomach had been temporarily soothed by a morning of gin fizz, but his head was spinning frightfully. He’d been buffeted and bashed about for days, by a storm that had made living on ship an absolute hell and any future attempt to force the Straits quite impossible.

Even in Mudros harbour on a ship the size of HMS Queen Elizabeth Sir George found it intolerable. He longed to take up his position on the Headquarters staff, with its promise of dry land and privacy. Sir George had dragged himself off his sick bed, to attend a conference of the top brass in Admiral de Robeck’s stateroom.

It was vital that he show his face and make his report to Sir Ian Hamilton, before he completely abandoned him in the belly of the beast.

Admiral de Robeck didn’t look like he was faring any better since the last time Sir George had seen him. The ravages of the storm and the disaster of the attack on the Straits had taken their toll. Out of the 16 Allied battleships that had taken part in the action under his flag, three had been sunk. Along with the Bouvet that went down during the battle, HMS Irresistible had eventually been sunk by Turkish gunfire and HMS Ocean had hit a mine while trying to help Irresistible and sank later that evening. Three other capital ships were so badly damaged that they couldn’t take part in any further operations.

Sir George couldn’t understand how one of the most powerful fleets ever assembled, had been stopped by a few barrels of high explosives under the sea and some obsolete guns. What was worse, he could see no way now for the Allies to extricate themselves from the situation without causing a series loss of face. Jeopardising its position with the neutral countries in the Balkans and Mediterranean.

Looking at the assorted Admirals and Generals and their respective staff, who’d gathered to discuss the next steps, Sir George knew that they were fully committed to continuing the campaign. There was no other choice.

De Robeck opened the meeting. ‘Gentlemen, as I’m sure you are aware, we met with considerable resistance when we attempted to force the Straits. We suffered a 33 percent loss of our operational battleships. Despite our best efforts, the shore defences have not been destroyed, nor their guns silenced. The minefields are hardly touched and will remain so until we can deal with the hidden batteries. For that reason, I have concluded that the only way the Straits can be forced is through a combined operation with the army.’

’So the elephant and the whale will no longer battle it out tooth and nail,’ Hamilton quipped brightly. ‘This looks a tougher nut to crack than when I first received my orders from Lord Kitchener. It is clear that if we are to have any chance of success, the army must land in force, in a deliberate and progressive military operation to clear the shore batteries. It is also clear that our recent intelligence was bad. The Turks are much better supplied than we were led to believe.’

Sir George was sure that Hamilton looked at him, but he assumed as a representative of the Admiralty rather than as someone who had provided incorrect information.

‘I intend to land on the southern tip and the western side of the Gallipoli peninsula. It is impossible to land sufficient troops in the Straits to assault the guns directly.’

Sir George was annoyed that Hamilton had drawn his conclusions