Battle of the Nek
Author, historian and battlefield guide Stephen Chambers explores how myth-making and nationalism have obscured the tragic truth behind this infamous but iconic battle
Stephen Chambers reveals the tragic slaughter behind this infamous attack
The Battle of Beersheba on 31 October 1917, with its dramatic mounted charge of two Australian light horse regiments, has become a tool for national self-congratulation and myth-making in its centenary year. Australians should be rightfully proud of this momentous charge, but also cautious of media claims that their countrymen’s role at Beersheba turned the tide of the Palestine campaign and that it was the last great cavalry charge in history. Both of these are somewhat outlandish claims but are nothing new – we heard similar for the anniversary of the Australian attack at Fromelles in 2016, airbrushing the British contribution completely, and earlier in 2015 during the Gallipoli centenary commemorations.
For historians, factual interpretation of any battle is key to its understanding. It is important to educate through historical analysis, not perpetuate myth through the popular media. However, there is one place where myth is greater than events, and that is Gallipoli. Few other places invoke the utter despair, futility and courage of war like this battlefield, and one event in particular is the tragic charge of the Australian Light Horse at The Nek on 7 August 1915. Looking into the collapsing Anzac trenches that still remain today, it is difficult to comprehend what it must have been like for the hundreds of frightened young men who lined up in waves. Without hesitation, these brave soldiers followed their orders knowing that they would charge into almost certain death.
The Nek, a narrow bridge of land that stretched between ‘Russell’s Top’ and ‘Baby 700’, was a vitally important position in the Anzac sector. It was a perfect bottleneck that was easy to defend. Several well-sited machine guns and rows of Turkish trenches that spread up onto the slopes of Baby 700 made this position all but impregnable. The Nek attack was just one part of the August Offensive, a series of assaults planned to break the deadlock at Gallipoli, where Australian, New Zealand, British and French troops had been
“WITHOUT HESITATION, THESE BRAVE SOLDIERS FOLLOWED THEIR ORDERS KNOWING THAT THEY WOULD CHARGE INTO ALMOST CERTAIN DEATH”
stalled since their landing in April 1915. The attack at The Nek was planned as a diversion in support of the New Zealand assault from Chunuk Bair, an objective that had to be captured during the night. While the Australians were to attack across The Nek to Baby 700, the New Zealanders would descend down from the heights above Baby 700, catching the Turks in a pincer movement.
The Third Australian Light Horse Brigade, commanded by Brigadier General Frederic Godfrey Hughes, was chosen to assault
The Nek. The brigade was made up of the Eighth, Ninth and Tenth Light Horse Regiments, who had landed at Gallipoli in
May 1915 as dismounted infantry, leaving their horses back in Egypt. Follow a huge bombardment, the attack the attack was due to commence at 4.30am, on 7 August 1915. The frontage of the attack was 80 metres (262 feet) wide, which restricted each of the four waves to 150 men each. Each of these waves would advance two minutes apart to the first line of Turkish trenches only 27 metres (89 feet) away.
Unfortunately, it was clear on the morning of the attack that the preconditions for the assault had failed to occur: the New Zealander attack was held up, so Chunuk Bair had not been captured, and Turkish machine guns that flanked The Nek at a position named ‘German Officers’ Trench’ had also not been captured during that night. Despite this, senior Anzac command ordered that the attack was to proceed, but this time the light horsemen would support the New Zealander attack on Chunuk Bair, and not the other way around as originally intended. This change of situation did not bode well for the Australians.
“THE LIGHT HORSEMEN WOULD SUPPORT THE NEW ZEALANDER ATTACK ON CHUNUK BAIR, AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND AS ORIGINALLY INTENDED. THIS CHANGE OF SITUATION DID NOT BODE WELL FOR THE AUSTRALIANS”
Even worse, the bombardment appeared to end seven minutes early, at 4.23am. The reason for this was later found to be a mistake with the synchronising of watches between the artillery officer and the officers of Third
Light Horse Brigade. This error meant that the Turks had ample time to man their trenches, knowing an assault was coming. In addition, the neighbouring assaults by the First and Second Light Horse Brigades on positions known as the Chessboard and Quinn’s Post did occur on time at 4.30am and had in fact failed by the time the officers of the Third Light Horse Brigade realised their mistake. By the time the first wave of 150 men went over the top, the Turks were not only fully prepared to receive the assault, they were also virtually unmolested in their defence.
Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Henry White, commanding officer of Eighth Light Horse Regiment, insisted on leading the first wave of 150 men personally. These men, all hailing from Victoria, were immediately met by a murderous hail of rifle and machine gun fire. Within 30 seconds the colonel and most of his men were either killed or wounded. It was clear that any continuation of the attack would be futile in these conditions. Supporting attacks by the other light horse brigades had already been aborted, and the supporting assault by the Eighth Royal Welch Fusiliers, to the right flank of Colonel White’s men, was also suspended. It was clear that the whole attack had failed. However, there was no one to cancel the second wave of Victorians, who two minutes later ‘hopped the bags’ and scrambled over the dead and wounded of their fallen comrades to meet the same fate. None of the men shirked their duty. Few made it even halfway.
“LIEUTENANT COLONEL ALEXANDER HENRY WHITE, COMMANDING OFFICER OF EIGHTH LIGHT HORSE REGIMENT, INSISTED ON LEADING THE FIRST WAVE OF 150 MEN PERSONALLY. THESE MEN, ALL HAILING FROM VICTORIA, WERE IMMEDIATELY MET BY A MURDEROUS HAIL OF RIFLE AND MACHINE GUN FIRE”
Attempting to prevent another wave charging into certain death was Lieutenant Colonel Noel Brazier, commander of the Tenth Light Horse Regiment. He claimed that, “The whole thing was nothing but bloody murder”. Unfortunately, due to marker flags having been seen in the Turkish trenches, Brazier could not persuade the stubborn brigade major, Colonel John Antill – who had taken over command of the brigade – to stop the attack. It is now believed that the marker flags were probably those of the First Light Horse Brigade who had briefly captured a Turkish trench on their flank.
Brazier ordered the third wave forward, this time men from Western Australia, the Tenth
Light Horse Regiment, who met the same fate. Knowing that it would be certain death, many fell flat to the ground as soon as they had left the trenches, which helped to reduce the casualties suffered in this assault. Brazier again tried to prevent a further wave going over the top, and this time he found General Hughes, commander of the brigade, who agreed that sending more men would be futile. Unfortunately, before communication was sent to the last wave to inform them that the attack has been cancelled, part of the fourth wave went over the top.
By the time commanders realised the futility of the attack, four waves had gone over the top in little more than 15 minutes. The ground separating the trenches, little bigger than three tennis courts, was covered with dead and dying light horsemen. The Eighth Light Horse suffered the highest casualties, losing 234 of its 300 men, 154 fatal. The Tenth suffered 138 casualties, 80 fatal.
The actual numbers involved in these losses might pale alongside some of the big battles on the Western Front such as Fromelles. For Australia, The Nek was a disaster on an epic scale, but it should be remembered that it is but one incident in a catalogue of unmitigated disasters at Gallipoli. While at the Nek there were 372 casualties in one morning, in one night the Australians at Fromelles suffered
5,533 casualties. But The Nek has rightfully been condemned in history as not only a tragic but also a futile attack. This event has become synonymous with the whole Gallipoli myth – a campaign that many Australians latch on to as a key moment in their struggle for national identity.
The Australian Light Horse attack at The Nek was immortalised in Peter Weir’s 1981 Oscarwinning
“THE NEK WAS A DISASTER ON AN EPIC SCALE, BUT IT SHOULD BE REMEMBERED THAT IT IS BUT ONE INCIDENT IN A CATALOGUE OF UNMITIGATED DISASTERS AT GALLIPOLI”
film Gallipoli. The film’s cinematography is spectacular and its musical score is nothing short of mesmerising, and it all culminates in the charge of the light horsemen. In this film, the attack is used to tell the story of these heroic young colonials being sent needlessly to their deaths by incompetent and vindictive British officers. The inaccuracies compound the myth by depicting the suicidal charge as a British-ordered attack that sacrificed innocent Australian lives in a diversion, while British soldiers drank their tea on the beaches at Suvla. In the climax, an officer with an English accent sends the four successive waves of these keen but inexperienced Australians to their deaths, clearly an example of the incompetent British recklessly squandering Australian lives.
While Britain had its fair share of incompetent commanders, so did the Australians. After the first two waves had been cut down, a commanding officer requests a cancellation (a request carried in the film at great risk by Mel Gibson’s character). He is refused, and a third wave that includes the sprinter Wilfrid Harper, on whom the Archie Hamilton character was based, goes the way of the previous two. According to Charles Bean, the Australian official historian, Wilfrid was last seen “running forward like a schoolboy in a foot race with all the speed he could compass”. His body was never found, like that of his brother Gresley, who was killed in the same charge.
But the film Gallipoli was not the first to immortalise the charge at The Nek. During the campaign, both British and Australian press latched onto this tragic tale. The London Standard published the story under the headline ‘Honour the Light Brigade’, comparing the bravery of the light horse with past British military deeds at Balaklava in the Crimean war, stating, “In the years that are to come this deed which the men of Victoria and Western Australia did along with many another in that bloodstained zone will bear its part in keeping the people of the British name together by the common memory of glorious deeds.” Bloody military disasters seem to capture the imagination of the British and Australian public alike.
But why should fact get in the way of a good story? It is inaccurate and unfair to blame ‘callous’ British generals for the slaughter at The Nek, as there were no British officers commanding the assault. The attack also had nothing to do with supporting the British landing at Suvla, but rather the intention was to support their Anzac brethren, the New Zealanders. While Australians should be rightfully proud of their soldiers, we should not diminish others in the process.
Who then were the British officers? In fact, the two main incompetents were Australian – Brigadier General Hughes and Colonel
Antill. As L.A. Carlyon wrote, “Hughes was the brigade commander and didn’t command; Antill wasn’t the brigade commander and he did. Responsibility rattled Hughes and, either consciously or unconsciously, he walked away from it. Antill behaved as he always did, like a bull strung up in barbed wire.” The tragic deaths suffered at The Nek were the result of bad Australian decision-making, not British command. That said, it is important to remember that errors at all levels were made in World War I, as commanders on all sides struggled with the reality of modern industrialised warfare. Some generals were better than others, and it was not uncommon for the poor generals to be replaced. Gallipoli had its fair share of generals who were dismissed, including the general officer
“WILFRID WAS LAST SEEN ‘RUNNING FORWARD LIKE A SCHOOLBOY IN A FOOT RACE WITH ALL THE SPEED HE COULD COMPASS’. HIS BODY WAS NEVER FOUND”
commanding the Mediterranean Expeditionary Force, Sir Ian Hamilton. By the war’s end, the quality of British and Australian leadership was predominantly very good, a point recognised by military historians as a key factor in the Allies winning the war.
If you visit The Nek cemetery today, you will be struck by the narrowness of the area, the few light horsemen who have headstones and the peacefulness of the Gallipoli area. It was too beautiful a battlefield to die, but many did. One of the few light horse troopers who has a headstone is English-born Harold Rush, Tenth Light Horse Regiment, who died in the third wave. His body was recovered and is buried in Walker’s Ridge Cemetery, overlooking the beaches and Suvla Bay. His epitaph reads, “His Last words, ‘Goodbye Cobber God Bless you’”.
But it is the heart-rending words attributed to Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, who was a commander of Ottoman forces in Gallipoli during World
War I and later the founder of modern Turkey, that fittingly ends this article: “Those heroes that shed their blood and lost their lives… You are now lying in the soil of a friendly country. Therefore rest in peace. There is no difference between the Johnnies and the Mehmets to us where they lie side by side here in this country of ours… You, the mothers who sent their sons from faraway countries, wipe away your tears; your sons are now lying in our bosom and are in peace. After having lost their lives on this land they have become our sons as well.”