Ever Glorious: The Front Line Letters of the Crookenden Brothers, 1936 -46

By John Greenacre

The Crookenden brothers – Henry, Napier and Spencer - were born into a military dynasty. Their father, Arthur, was a renowned Cheshire Regiment officer and had served as a Brigade Major in Gallipoli and on the Western Front during the First World War. Napier followed in his father’s footsteps - becoming an officer in the Cheshire Regiment - and saw action during the Arab Revolt in Palestine in 1936. On the outbreak of the Second World War, Napier’s brothers followed him into the army for war service: Henry in the Queen’s Westminster Rifles and the King’s Royal Rifle Corps and Spencer in the Royal Engineers.

Spencer and Henry’s wartime service took a different course to their brother. While Napier languished in a succession of unrewarding posts in Great Britain, his brothers fought across North Africa and into Italy. Napier - desperate to see action - joined the new airborne arm and, as a Brigade Major, arrived in Normandy by glider on D-Day. Promotion followed rapidly and he took over a parachute battalion before returning to England. As the pace of the war increased, Napier found himself continually in the front line. His battalion fought in the Battle of the Bulge and he parachuted at its head during the Rhine crossing operation. Napier pursued the German Army across its homeland - reaching the Baltic, where he finished the war facing down the Russian Army in Wismar on VE Day. With the war over, the brothers’ fortunes once again took different paths. Henry and Spencer left with the effects of wounds and illness sustained during the war, and returned to civilian life to pursue full careers and lives. Napier stayed with the army and saw operational service in Palestine once again and Malaya. He retired in 1972 as a three-star General. Ever Glorious is written through the letters exchanged between Henry, Napier, Spencer and their father, Arthur.

The book takes the reader from Gallipoli to the Baltic; North Africa to the Ardennes; Normandy to Palestine; and from Italy to Malaya. Often gripping - sometimes amusing and always insightful - these letters reveal the experiences, thoughts and emotions of a family involved in war across the 20th century.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Helion and Company
• Release date: Aug 23, 2016
• ISBN: 9781912174393

John Greenacre

John Greenacre served across the world in the British Army as a helicopter pilot and staff officer for 23 years before leaving to pursue a career as a historian. He was awarded his PhD from the University of Leeds and his thesis was published by Pen & Swo

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Author’s Introduction and Acknowledgements

I first became aware of the letters of the Crookenden family nearly a decade ago and I was immediately gripped by their vivid and engaging descriptions of life and battle in Palestine, North Africa, Italy, Normandy and other campaigns spanning a turbulent decade. In editing these letters I have done my best to ensure that the voices of Arthur and his sons, Henry, Napier and Spencer still shine through with their individual characters and joint sense of family. I have tried to do as little as possible to edit the letters themselves. Therefore the contemporary attitudes toward almost any nationality that was not English and the innocent pursuit of young women remain, somewhat in conflict with modern concepts of political correctness.

Since the letters are immediate to the experience of the authors, their interpretations of events are often at odds with other contemporary sources such as regimental war diaries and later secondary sources and publications. Occasionally a later personal account of an event even disagrees with the same author’s original version in his letters. These contradictions also remain in the text; after all, this is what keeps historians in business. However, I have amended the occasional example of eccentric grammar and clarified some of the plethora of arcane military abbreviations and acronyms to save the reader from too much distraction. My simple task has been to stitch the letters together and provide some narrative context for the events that the Crookendens have described. Any errors of fact between the letters are mine alone.

I have had invaluable assistance throughout the process of writing this book. First and foremost I wish to acknowledge the support I have received from the Crookenden family in completing this project. I am grateful for their trust in allowing me to document the lives of their fathers and grandfathers and for their practical support in providing the letters and notes of Arthur, Henry, Napier and Spencer that represent the foundation of this book. Although the original letters are deposited in the Imperial War Museum the family provided copies and transcripts for me to work with, making my task considerably easier than it might otherwise have been. I also thank them for taking the time to provide the family tree, photographs and comments on the manuscript. My special thanks to Simon Crookenden for acting as my link with the rest of the family and for waiting far longer than I originally suggested for the completion of this book.

The time and knowledge of the staff of the National Archives was invaluable as ever and I thank the Imperial War Museum for first introducing me to the letters and for providing copies of the recordings of the interviews conducted with Napier Crookenden. Jon Baker and Rebecca Skinner at the Airborne Assault Museum, Duxford and Eddie Pickering and his staff at the Cheshire Military Museum, Chester provided great assistance in their respective archives. I would like to thank Constantia Nicolaides at the National Portrait Gallery for her help with the photograph of Henry Crookenden.

Mike Peters, Bob Hilton, Alison Hine, John Cotterill and the late Will Townend, as good friends and fellow members of the Guild of Battlefield Guides have been generous with their time, advice and knowledge. My thanks also go to John Northam, Patrick Mileham and Ben Lewsley for additional information on Wellington College and to Tony Twiss, erstwhile aide-de-camp to Napier Crookenden for his time and marvellous anecdotes.

I would also like to mention Tom Hughes a veteran of 9th Parachute Battlion while under the command of Napier Crookenden. I had the privilege to visit the massacre site at Bande in Belgium (described in chapter 7) with Tom in 2014. It was a moving experience that I will not forget easily and I thank Tom for sharing his experiences with me.

Special thanks to my good friend Taniya Dennison for providing words of encouragement and for a very thorough proof reading. Once an adjutant, always an adjutant!

Finally and as ever my thanks to my ever patient wife Jo-anne and daughter Alice for allowing me to sit in my study and complete this anti-social endeavour …

John Greenacre PhD

Pakefield, Suffolk

1

The Crookenden Family before 1936

Henry Humphreys Crookenden was born in 1844 to Dr Henry Crookenden who had a practice near Stockport in Cheshire. Dr Henry was married to Julia Davenport, whose family owned Bramhall Hall. Henry Humphreys and his older brother Salusbury were brought up at the magnificent, half-timbered Bramhall Hall in comfort thanks to their father’s share in the family sugar estate in Barbados and as a result the boys were sent to school in Hofwyl near Berne in Switzerland. On his return to England Henry Humphreys went to Cheltenham College followed by the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich. He excelled at sport, playing rugby for the first XV at Woolwich and twice winning the Silver Bugle for athletic achievement.¹

On being commissioned into the Royal Artillery Henry was posted to Malta. He was naturally fit and immensely strong, excelling at rackets, cricket and rugby as well as billiards. His strength was demonstrated in two recorded incidents. First, when challenged to demonstrate pull-ups on an overhead bar using only one arm he succeeded in ‘breasting the bar’ six times with each hand. On another occasion, again to settle a bet, he lifted a fellow officer and the chair he was seated on from the floor on to a table top using only one hand placed under the seat. After Malta Henry was posted to Canada, working for the military survey where he learned to skate superbly. On return to England he was made a gym instructor at Woolwich and earned the nickname the ‘Bounding Brother’.

Henry married Emily Wainwright in 1876 and their first son, Arthur Crookenden was born on 14 January 1877, with a stillborn twin, in the family home at No.2 Alpine Villas on Shooters’ Hill. Over the following years three daughters, Hilda, Irene and Kate and another son, John joined their eldest sibling Arthur. All the children referred to their father as ‘The Governor.’ In 1878 the family moved to the Staff College at Camberley where Arthur later recalled his father’s antics continued. On one occasion Henry, returning from the college on horseback, decided to jump his mount from the road, over the fence into the front garden, not realising his wife was sitting with the children on the opposite side. The horse cleared the fence and family but the incident ‘scarified’ the young Arthur.

In 1879 Henry departed for South Africa to fight in the Zulu Wars. He became involved on the periphery of one of the most infamous incidents of the campaign. On 1 June 1879 Imperial Prince Napoleon Eugene, the exiled heir to the French throne, was killed by Zulu warriors while serving as an observer with the British Army. He was surrounded by a party of around forty Zulus and cut to pieces while dismounted during an ill-advised reconnaissance mission. Recriminations followed the incident and Lieutenant Jahleel Carey, the Imperial Prince’s escort, was accused of dereliction of duty for not doing more to prevent his death. During his court martial Henry Crookenden appeared for Lieutenant Carey’s defence. Carey was condemned and sent home under arrest. The Empress Eugénie and Queen Victoria intervened to have him released but he returned to his regiment a pariah. Fortunately Henry was not tarnished by the incident and on his return from Africa he moved to the Intelligence Branch in the War Office. One of young Arthur’s earliest memories from this period was spying the Zulu chieftain Cetshwayo peering from the window of the house in Melbury Road, Kensington, where he was being held in exile.

When Arthur’s grandfather, Dr Henry Crookenden died Bramhall Hall was sold and the Barbadian sugar estate was put into administration, being heavily in debt, unable to compete with European sugar beet production. After much effort Arthur’s father, Henry Humphreys managed to buy out all the estates creditors and sold it for what it was worth, which at the time was very little. Shortly after, when the First World War broke out the price of sugar soared and the estate would have been worth a fortune once again.

Arthur was sent to Restoration House preparatory school and then New College at Margate before completing his education at Clifton College. He followed his father into the Army but not the Royal Artillery. He was commissioned from the Royal Military Academy Sandhurst in 1897 and joined The Cheshire Regiment (the old 22nd Regiment of Foot) serving with the 1st and 2nd Battalions in India and South Africa. While stationed at Wellington in the Madras Presidency, one of Arthur’s duties was to collect his battalion’s wages from Ootacamund (Udhagamandalam), a hill station in the Nilgiris Hills. There the young officer found himself paired in a croquet doubles match with a beautiful girl, Dorothy Rowlandson. Dorothy was the croquet champion of the Nilgiris Hills whereas Arthur had never swung a mallet. In 1908 Arthur was sent to the Staff College at Camberley and on 16 April 1909 he married Dorothy. Their first daughter Elizabeth (known universally by the family as Fudge) was born in 1910 and she was followed by a son, Henry in 1912.²

On the outbreak of the First World War Arthur was a captain employed as the brigade major (BM) of the Cheshire Infantry Brigade commanded by Brigadier E.A. Cowans. The Cheshire Infantry Brigade was part of the Welsh Territorial Division, one of fourteen divisions within the Territorial Force, created by Lord Haldane’s army reforms in 1907 and designed principally for home defence. Arthur’s brigade received the order for mobilisation on 5 August 1914. The division was renamed 53rd (Welsh) Division and the Cheshire Infantry Brigade became the more prosaic 159 Infantry Brigade. In November 1914 the division moved to Suffolk to dig and man defensive trenches along the coast in case of invasion or raids by the Germans who by that time were on the Belgian coast. However on 3 July 1915 the divisional commander, Major General John Lindley was given orders to prepare his division for service in the Mediterranean. Just over a month later, after an uneventful voyage, at nightfall on 7 August 1915 Arthur’s ship anchored ‘off a black and unknown coast’; Gallipoli.³

The initial landings on the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula had taken place on 25 April 1915. The landings, in the face of Turkish defences were costly and once ashore, without the orders to do so, the troops failed to exploit the situation and a stalemate quickly developed with two, small, unconnected beachheads hemmed in by the Ottoman defenders. The Turks brought up reinforcements and the Allied offensive lost momentum. Fighting throughout the late spring and into the summer failed to bring any significant advances to the Allies and the Ottomans never succeeded in dislodging the invaders.

Further landings on 6 August 1915 led by 11th (Northern) Division at Suvla Bay were designed to reinvigorate the campaign, stretch the Turkish defences and allow the Australian and British troops already on the peninsula to break out and restore some momentum. The following day the Suvla landings would be reinforced by 10th (Irish) Division followed by Arthur’s 53rd (Welsh) Division and 54th (East Anglian) Division. However, the landings were poorly commanded and controlled from the start. Despite relatively light opposition 11th (Northern) Division made little progress once it had landed. There was confusion in the darkness; the ground was unknown and the troops had been given very little idea of where they should be heading or what their objectives were. On the morning of 7 August, by the time 10th (Irish) Division started to land the situation on Suvla Plain was beginning to become chaotic. As the August day grew hot a lack of provision of water began to take its toll on the rocky, dusty peninsula and by that night ‘there was no great victory to report’.⁴

The following morning 53rd (Welsh) Division were brought ashore by landing craft known as X Lighters or Beetles but on landing the majority of troops did not know the names of their objectives or where they were in relation to the ground rising up in front of them. Their first view of the peninsula was from the deck of their ship a few hours before dawn. It was not until Arthur’s brigade chief clerk, Quartermaster Sergeant Fred Weston, broke open a case of maps he had found on the beach that most officers even knew they were at Suvla Bay. What Arthur and his comrades found on landing was far from encouraging.⁵ He described the scene many years later when writing the history of The Cheshire Regiment during the war.

The military situation at this juncture beggars description. The 10th and 11th Divisions had landed two days earlier, and had been severely handled by the enemy and poorly directed. Commanders and staffs, officers and men, all showed marked signs of having reached the limit of endurance. An atmosphere of indifference, laissez-faire and chaos was the result, which was inimical, if not fatal, to action even by fresh troops.

The hearts of all sank as they realized the conditions in which they were to go into battle. They had no ammunition except what they carried, no transport, no artillery. It seemed incredible.

On landing, the 53rd Division, though soft after three weeks on board ship, and tired after a sleepless night, was still perfectly capable of sustained effort, and anxious to aquit itself well in this, its first experience of war.

The Brigade Major of 159 Brigade, Captain Arthur Crookenden … went up the hill to see the state of affairs. He saw the Salt Lake covered with wounded men coming back to the beach, each escorted by two or three of their comrades. There was a little shelling, and some distant rifle fire. He told the G.O.C. that the Brigade could capture the distant objective if an hour’s law was granted for a talk with the officers with map and compass on the top of Lala Baba. But no! Hurry was the order of the day! He objected, was threatened with arrest, was given a verbal order to send two Battalions to report to General in the bush. He refused to bear such an order, and the G.S.O. himself took it to General Cowans, commanding 159 Brigade. The 4th Battalion [Cheshire Regiment] and 5th Welch moved off gallantly across the Salt Lake towards Chocolate Hill in artillery formation under shrapnel fire, through streams of men retiring, suffering some casualties, and grumbling that they had been given better orders for a Saturday afternoon bun-struggle in Birkenhead Park.⁶

Arthur and 159 Brigade were immediately drawn into the chaos at Suvla Bay. Battalions marched off towards unclear objectives and got lost and scattered in the unfamiliar, rocky, scrub covered landscape. By the time night fell three of the brigade’s four battalions were ‘lost’. Arthur spent most of the night behind the Turkish lines attempting to find the missing battalions but with little success. Confusion continued to reign the following day. A general advance was ordered in the afternoon but few units were in a position to carry it out and those that did gained little ground in exchange for many casualties. The men dug in to trench lines that many of them would occupy for the next four months. Arthur considered, ‘The whole action was a nightmare of indecision starting at the top, and spreading its evil effects through all the ranks.’ A week after landing Arthur was able to write home to Dorothy who was expecting their third child imminently. The letter is the first example of a Crookenden tradition of writing home from the battlefield that was to extend over the next three decades and more. He glossed over the worst of the Suvla landings.

A strenuous life indeed – we started battling right from the beach half an hour after landing. Next day had a real battle, it wasn’t so bad – not nearly so as I expected. Thy Sonny [Arthur] got two good marks for good work under fire and his name has gone in besides a very complimentary telegram from Lindley to the Bde Staff. Next day another chit – almost too good a start to keep up – for a report. Yesterday I commanded the Brigade and got another good word – Cowans being wounded and taken away. I musn’t say what we were doing but I shall have such tons to tell Thee when I get back.

Such a lot of it is fearfully bad and sad. Losses you will see in the papers. We are entrenched now as the men have had an awful dusting. Thank Heaven it is not the French variety – no high explosive shells – no flies, no smells – little shrapnel but a lot of unaimed and incessant sniping from trees which surround us on every side. We are in a basin surrounded by high rocky hills – ugly place and very dusty. Water scarce. Have not washed since last Sunday (today is Sunday) and have not taken boots off.

Shaved twice – once just now. Very burnt and very fit. Cowans was hit in the shoulder (collar bone pierced) along with another staff officer. I was walking in front of them. Have a bullet graze on my cheek and that’s all. No little companions yet – changed my shirt today. We have what we can carry only but Broady lives on the beach and goes in and out daily with food and clothes. No letters! It is sickening. Today we watched a battle and saw our men run but later on the Turks ran faster and finally as far as we could see in the dark … ⁷

By the time he wrote that first letter the 53rd Division were entrenched and would not carry out another deliberate attack during their entire four months on the Gallipoli Peninsula. During that solitary first week of action the division lost 123 officers and 2,182 other ranks. The Turks had occupied much of the high ground surrounding the bay that had been the initial objectives of the Suvla landings, greatly reducing the chances of any further British advance. The stalemate conditions of the Western Front that the Dardenelles campaign had been designed to bypass had quickly set in at Suvla Bay. In the wake of the debacle there were multiple changes of command and 53rd (Welsh) Division’s commander Lindley resigned. Cowans, Arthur’s brigade commander had been wounded and evacuated on 14 August 1915. With his brigadier now evacuated Arthur was under increased pressure from work until a replacement was brought in.

… The new General arrived yesterday morning – Butler – a dug-out Cavalryman – who was surprised to find us all dirty and unwashed and no kits. It took me over four hours to explain that the morning of his arrival was the actual first moment we had to turn round as they say …

I could do with a change. Butler seems willing to take his share of the work and I feel the load of responsibility which I have borne since July 1914 shifted already. He seems an unpleasant person but that is all to the good I think. The Territorials want a swine to run them.

My methods – and Napier’s – have broken down to some extent I should say – under strain …

Our routine casualties are going down slowly as the men learn that it is unhealthy to stick their heads up or walk about above the trenches. Snipers in the close crowded conditions just pick them off. Yesterday when I was showing the new Brigadier a bad place in our firing line where the trench is very shallow and the ground in front very close, a bullet came between our faces which were about a foot apart and reminded us that we were exposed. The stones and earth splashed up and nearly blinded us. It was a silly way to be caught and we deserved it and more.⁸

The Napier referred to by Arthur was General Sir Charles Napier, Colonel of the 22nd Regiment of Foot (antecedents of The Cheshire Regiment) and the conqueror of the Scinde Province in what is now Pakistan in the early 1840s. Sir Charles Napier was an early proponent of a more enlightened form of military command, advocating leading rather than driving soldiers and working hard to inspire respect and even affection from the men under his command. His legacy had a profound effect on later generations of Cheshire officers and Arthur was a firm upholder of Napier’s principles. Hence the poor performance of the Territorial soldiers within his brigade came as a bitter blow to Arthur, as he felt they had let down their side of the covenant. A descendent of Sir Charles Napier had served with Arthur in the 1st Battalion in India. Henry Edward Napier was considerably older than Arthur and by 1915 was a brigadier general commanding 88 Brigade within the 29th Division. This brigade had landed at Cape Helles at the tip of the Gallipoli Peninsula during the initial amphibious assault on 25 April 1915. The initial landings suffered terrible losses and Henry Napier was killed as he came forward to launch his Brigade’s second wave. He is commemorated on the Helles Memorial.

Arthur and Dorothy’s second son was born on 31 August 1915 and news of the happy event reached Arthur three days later as he sat in his newly constructed ‘splinter-proof dug-out’. Before departing for Gallipoli the couple had agreed on Christopher as a name for a new son, with Miles as a second choice. However, sitting on the Turkish peninsula Arthur had a sudden change of heart. Perhaps inspired by the example of Sir Charles Napier or in remembrance of his colleague Henry Napier and most likely due to both, Arthur sent an urgent telegraph instructing Dorothy that their new son should be christened Napier. In dramatic style the message was thrust into Dorothy’s hand by a telegraph boy as she climbed into a hansom cab on her way to Upton Church for the christening ceremony.

Like soldiers before and after him, Arthur must have been frustrated being so far from home at such an important time for the Crookenden family. His feelings must have been made worse by the stagnant military situation and poor living conditions. On 20 September 1915 53rd (Welsh) Division was withdrawn from the front line and put into reserve at Lala Baba on the edge of Suvla Bay, ‘where the refuse of men and animals had accumulated and fouled the entire areas, which had become a breeding place for a cloud of flies.’⁹ Arthur, who had recently been promoted to Major described the scene.

We arrived on this pestilential beach on the night before last … Just in front of us – looking N.W. is a new pier which they keep on shelling and never hit – but they splatter their bullets all around us. It’s extraordinary what little damage they do. This morning I was in the cone of a shell and there was a large working party going past at the time – no one was hit.

But it is not a thing one wants to stand under like a shower bath so we all took cover and waited for the next. The bullets from this nearly all went into the sea and then the Turks shifted their line some minutes and peppered the beach 100 yards further along.

There are now known to be some Germans in front of us. Isn’t it truly marvellous? Not many reported so far but about 400. There are many German officers among the Turks as well and very bold fellows too if what is supposed is true.

They are supposed to walk about our lines asking their way and conversing with all ranks. Personally I do not believe they do this. Knowing the troops who report these suspicious officers (and never arrest them) I should say they are merely our officers who have lost their way in the maze of strange trenches.

I find the current badges of rank on the sleeve most inconvenient on promotion as the braid cannot be obtained. So I have stripped all braid off and put crowns on shoulders. Having the same done to my other warm coat at home which I want sent out soon.

All along the cliff they are making winter quarters. A great number of large excavations for huts of sorts. I do not approve of large holes – each of them to hold 36 men – because a High Explosive shell in one will jigger 36 men. Better to have smaller holes separated by good blocks of solid earth. We have protested against the present plan which has not gone too far to alter.¹⁰

As September rolled into October 1915 not much of note changed or moved for 53rd (Welsh) Division. Without any major action to write home about Arthur’s letters became an assortment of prosaic, domestic detail and what evidence of the fighting he could witness from his trenches and dug outs.

We had some little excitement today. At 3:55 p.m. an artillery bombardment of the Turkish trenches at the top and far end of Kiretech Tepe Sirt began. 12 inch guns from the ships began it and later the howitzers and field guns joined in. You never saw such masses of earth and rocks and dust smash into the air when the big shells hit. Even at this distance it looked most horrifying and up there it must have been frightful.

They fired from the bay and also from the sea on the North side of the ridge and were all over the trenches. Meanwhile other guns searched the valleys behind and rear slopes and places where their reserves might be and later still shrapnel played on likely spots. Two aeroplanes kept watch to spot the Turkish gun positions if they replied.

There was a little Turkish firing but not much. Whether we caused the Turks many casualties we don’t know yet. Possibly not as they are extraordinary with the spade and very well dug in.

Still there appeared to be a good many direct hits on the trenches and must have caught some of them. The object of all this bang banging is popularly supposed to be to draw their reserves here in anticipation of an attack by us and meanwhile a landing – yet another by a mixed force of all nationalities is to take place somewhere. Pure conjecture …

… They altered the mail yesterday – the hour it leaves here and put it two hours earlier. Two mail bags for Brigade Headquarters have been lost – only temporarily I hope. It is rather sickening as I’ve had so few letters – perhaps they are all in the mail bags.’

Woke up this a.m. to find a howling North wind blowing. My bath was an appalling affair and I fled into my dug-out to dry. It remained pretty cold till about noon – but the North wind did not abate so we shall have a chilly night. As it rained last night too it must have been pretty miserable in the trenches this morning … ’

One of our aeroplanes broke his controls and had to make a forced descent yesterday in the middle of the Salt Lake. It is not really a lake but a patch of boggy ground into which the sea flows. It is covered with salt.

We sent a party to salve the machine but it is gone past repair. The engine is all right. Yesterday was its second flight only. The two fellows – one RN, one Army had a lucky escape – they had to go where the aeroplane took them but fortunately landed safely.’

I was up on the hill today – the North hill K.T.S. – when a Taube came over the bay and low down close to where we stood. The anti aircraft guns had lots of shots at it and at the end one appeared to hit it but I thought it was short. However just at the very moment the aeroplane disappeared into a cloud and several soldiers nearby started to cheer. However he came out again, crossed our lines amid a torrent of firing and then circled round again and came across the bay again. This time I thought he must be hit by the a.a. gun but it was not to be. It would have been splendid to see him come toppling over. The a.a. guns have a difficult job, judging pace, height and direction of the target. However he was a bold fellow.’¹¹

With little good news on the peninsula Arthur looked forward to any word from home. However, it must have been with mixed emotions when, towards the end of October 1915 he received a letter from the widow of his old colleague Henry Napier, killed during the initial landings at Gallipoli almost exactly six months earlier. The words from Mary Napier must have stirred thoughts of home, his new son and his own mortality.

Your wife told me thro’ the telephone that you had wired saying you wished your little lad to be given the name of Napier and would I like it. Of course I did. I love to think that you care to give your son my dear’s name and a name that has had so many gallant gentlemen to bear it. Thank you for wishing it. I should have written at once but death was very busy then with those I cared for. Colonel Logan was killed leading his Regiment in an attack and his youngest brother in the 43rd was killed a few days after. He had been home wounded for a month during which I had been with him and he had only been back a short time. They were like brothers to me. I have been with Col Logan’s wife ever since and now I have brought her and my mother here for a bit of change.

When I go back to Chester I shall go and see your family. Of course I take the greatest interest in all news from Gallipoli and I wonder how the latest Balkan news, Bulgaria’s behaviour and the change in your C in C will affect matters. I had a letter yesterday from one of our few friends left in the 29th Division and he tells me the weather was still nice which is a blessing. I have heard nothing of the 22nd for ages. I wonder why on earth our Government did not say a year ago that National Service we must have. I feel it a disgrace that our men need to be asked to do what is a plain duty and I feel sure if the Government had spoken with a firm voice a year ago everyone would have upheld them …

I hope you and your Brigade are getting on well. What a many things I shall have to ask you when we meet … Goodbye and God bless you and yours very sincerely.¹²

Despite Mary Napier’s hopes Arthur’s brigade, along with the rest of the allied force was far from ‘getting on well’. The Gallipoli campaign had ground to a halt and stalemate had set in. The entry of Bulgaria into the war and a new campaign opening in Salonika was drawing attention and resources away from the Dardanelles. Evacuation was suggested but the allied commander General Sir Ian Hamilton resisted the idea, complaining it would be a blow to British prestige. At the beginning of October 1915 Hamilton was replaced by Lieutenant General Sir Charles Munro who took one look at the situation and recommended evacuation at the earliest opportunity. The heat and flies of the summer were giving way to gales, rain that turned trench systems into rivers and freezing conditions leading to frostbite and exposure in the ill-equipped troops on both sides. Lord Kitchener, the Minister for War visited the peninsula to confirm Munro’s decision in November 1915.

Ironically the evacuation from Gallipoli was probably the best managed aspect of the campaign. Secrecy was preserved and the illusion that the allied trenches and positions remained occupied was successfully maintained until the bulk of the withdrawing troops were relatively safe on board a fleet of vessels waiting to lift them from the beaches. Despite fears of heavy casualties ANZAC Cove and Suvla Bay were evacuated practically casualty-free by dawn on 20 December 1915. The following day Arthur, who had left his brigade the previous month to become a staff officer in the headquarters of 53rd (Welsh) Division, wrote home to describe the experience from the safety of a Royal Navy destroyer harboured at Mudros on the Greek island of Lemnos.

This ship [HMT Aragon] is where the HQ of the lines of communication and GHQ live. It is a mass of staff officers and seems a most inconvenient arrangement.

I’ve such a lot to say that I don’t know where to begin. For some time past we have been unable to say what was going on and I put it all down in my diary. But now my diary is in Egypt as will be seen later and I am here. Further, I have only 3 sheets of paper.

The beginning of everything is that about the 26th of last month (November) as far as I can remember rumours of evacuation from Suvla and ANZAC began. It soon became apparent that it was more than a rumour and eventually came a letter … saying that it was only fair that 53rd Division should be given a chance and should be responsible for the final defence of Lala Baba – that is covering the withdrawal of the whole Suvla and ANZAC force.

This was somewhat perturbing partly because all our divisional troops are worn out, never having been reinforced and because I could not get Cape – in whom we have no confidence (he is our senior General Staff Officer) to take the preparations in hand seriously. However I made my own mind clear to myself on paper. We were eventually to be left with two weak Brigades. The scheme at foot at the time and with which I disagreed totally was to withdraw from the front line trenches on one night and to embark the troops withdrawn under cover of a rear guard left holding Lala Baba. This rear guard could not embark too but would remain another 24 hours. It seemed to me that Lala Baba would be shelled all day and the pier and beaches all night and that this rear guard could not possibly get away – or at least would get away so few men and leave so many wounded that it would practically not get away. The only possible plan was gradually to withdraw troops in the rear of the front and then having reduced them to the lowest possible number, to make a bolt straight back to the beach and away. Small parties would hold intermediate points and also cover the beach and pier, holding the Lala Baba defences very lightly. So much for what I thought.

Then came that terrible storm which knocked out one Brigade almost entirely and so weakened the others that there was little Division left. The remnants of one brigade went to the front line trenches to take the place of the drowned brigade of the 2nd Mounted Division. In the circumstances it was obvious that we could not do the rear guard and the job was given to the 13th Division (General Maude). At the same time [Major General] Marshall [the commander 53rd (Welsh) Division] was entrusted with the task of making embarkation arrangements for that portion of the whole line ANZAC and Suvla which was to embark at Lala Baba and which Maude was to cover – 1/3 of the whole.

To assist him Marshall selected Derry and me and we kept Patten the Provost Marshal as well. Guns, stores, ammunition, kits, animals and so on were gradually embarked under cover of darkness and eventually troops began to go – among others the remnants of our Division who took our kits with them and left us with what we stood up in – blanket – razor and tooth brush.

This was on the 13th – it was a Monday. During the week the evacuation continued and at last we came to the final two days. Incessant meetings were held with the Naval Transport Officer and our arrangements for getting away the fighting troops polished and repolished – and I may add continually altered by reason of incessant changes made by higher authority. Our N.T.O. on our side of the Bay was Commander Mulock RN a very good fellow, with the usual naval fault of always agreeing to do a thing however much he disapproved, merely because he disliked saying he couldn’t do it. He would never give an opinion to a superior.

It was an exciting time, seeing that we had heard by rumour from Mudros the exact date of the evacuation before we got our secret orders and seeing also how entirely dependent we were on the weather – it was quite on the cards that the Turks or the weather would upset any plans and either with very little effort.

The alteration to which we had to submit did not however lengthen the days and on Saturday by 10:15 p.m. or so we had safely embarked half the troops remaining after the preliminary stage and were left with a skeleton to hold on for the next 30 hours odd.

On Sunday morning we got a telegram from the meteorologist saying that a depression was approaching and that bad weather was possible on Sunday. This was cheering.

There was the added thought that the Turks – knowing the date – might arrange to attack our weakened line or at least shell the beaches and pier. We were embarking at two places – South Pier and C Beach. A southwest wind of a sort and anything over a mild NNE wind would make C Beach unusable.

On Sunday about 11:00 a.m. the Turks started firing 5.9 inch howitzer – apparently at the pier. It was good ammunition – each shell burst with a deafening splitting sound – an irresistible sort of sound – detonated perfectly and threw up a cloud of black smoke. It looked as though they were ranging on the pier. They got two overs and two shorts then one splashed into the water close to the pier and then another got it – plumb. We were by this time living at the 13th Division H.Q. close to the pier on the eastern side so all the shorts fell just behind our dug-outs which were open towards the pier.

They then began to move the shells backwards and forwards between our two forming up places and so went on until lunch time. It was most unpleasant. On thinking it over however I came to the conclusion that the ranging on the pier was more apparent than real for surely they would have gone and smashed it once they had the range. It was probably just their Sunday Hate.

The 50 odd HE shells, everyone which detonated perfectly did no harm at all. There were naturally very few men about and they scattered all along the area to keep