The Dardanelles Conspiracy by Alan Bardos (best ereader for pc TXT) 📗
- Author: Alan Bardos
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‘Yes, sir, I think so.’ Johnny couldn’t really remember what he’d done.
‘Are you an officer?’ Hare asked, not amused by Johnny’s indecision.
‘Yes, sir.’ Johnny realised he was wearing his private’s service jacket and wondered if it had actually made any difference to the Turks. Johnny smirked. Sir George would be pretty sick if he’d been indirectly responsible for saving his life. ‘Second Lieutenant Jonathan Swift, sir, currently attached to First Battalion, Lancashire Fusiliers.’
‘Splendid, you’ll certainly be mentioned in dispatches.’ Hare pointed towards X beach, on the other side of the hill. ‘I'm going to see if we can't link up with the Royal Fusiliers. You and your servant are coming with me, you look a pretty handy pair.’
‘Very good, sir.’ Johnny felt elated. He was sure that would be sufficient to satisfy Hamilton and redeem his reputation.
Johnny and Williams climbed out of the trench and followed the Brigadier, Major Franklin and two signallers. They skirted along the cliff in front of Hill 114, Hare staggered and crumpled. Johnny saw flashes coming from a trench on the slope of the hill. Something stung the air next to him.
He grabbed Franklin, diving for cover behind the edge of the cliff, and managed to cling onto the ledge.
‘Thanks, old boy.’ Franklin patted Johnny appreciatively on the shoulder, once the bullets had stopped flying.
‘Simply returning the favour, sir,’ Johnny replied and was rewarded with a hearty laugh.
They could hear Hare swearing and found the brigadier slumped behind a bend in the cliff. He had been shot in the thigh. Williams was applying pressure bandages, but the blood kept soaking through.
Franklin had a brief conference with Hare then turned to Johnny. ‘Swift I need you to continue to X beach, find the commander of the Royal Fusiliers, Colonel Newenham. Inform him that the Brigadier is hors de combat and that he now commands the covering force.’
Chapter 47
Laszlo Breitner was surprised by the composure of General Liman von Sanders, despite the panicked reports flooding into headquarters of multiple landings on and around the Dardanelles peninsula.
Von Sanders scowled at Breitner and the other staff officers cluttered around him. ‘Why all the long faces? Is this not what had been expected?’
The commander of the 5th Army gave a self-satisfied grin. ‘The landings are in places that were predicted and have been prepared. Once it is clear where the main attack is to take place we will release our reserves and drive them into the sea. In the meantime I will go to the sector that is the most likely landing site for the main Allied assault, the Gulf of Saros.’
Breitner didn’t think that von Sanders had grasped the seriousness of the situation. He was going north when the majority of the reports suggested that the landings were in the south. Breitner felt sufficiently concerned to offer an opinion.
‘I beg your pardon, sir, would it not be prudent to stay at HQ, where you are in constant telephone contact with your command?’
Liman von Sanders paused for a moment and Breitner wondered if the General might not be harbouring some reservations about his plan. ‘Major Breitner, the most significant report I have received states that there are enemy ships in the Gulf of Saros.’
‘Yes, sir, that is an excellent point, however we have reports of substantial landings along Cape Helles.’
‘How do we know that is not a feint, designed to lure our reserve away from the North?’ von Saunders replied.
‘I don’t sir, but there are reports of a further landing in the west of the peninsular. Which if proves to be more than a feint we risk losing the high ground in the centre of the peninsula and being cut off from the south.’
Liman von Sanders sighed. ‘Very well Breitner, I will earmark reinforcements, but I am not convinced that the landings are genuine. I want you to go to the west and report on the strength of the Allied forces. I will remain at the Golf of Soras until the situation is clear. If the other landings prove to be diversions, I will dispatch reinforcements to Helles, in the meantime we stick with our strategy.’
Chapter 48
So far as Sir George Smyth could see everything was going as well as could be expected. He’d taken up his former position within the protection of the conning tower of HMS Queen Elizabeth, with Hamilton and Braithwaite. Sir George was to stay at his chief’s side to organise his signals and take essential notes for his campaign diary. Jack Churchill and the rest of Hamilton's staff had been distributed around the ship in various turrets and compartments, but Sir George was in the nexus of power.
Hamilton beamed with excitement, ‘I trust your notes are up to date Smyth?’
‘Yes, Sir Ian, it is clearly recorded that you have achieved a cop de main, despite a lack of surprise.’
‘Excellent.’
‘We’re rounding Tekke Burnu, W beach in sight.’ A look out called and Sir George and Hamilton pressed their binoculars against an observation slit.
Sir George checked a momentary spasm of regret for young Johnny Swift when he saw the carnage strung out across W beach. He didn’t doubt that Swift had got his just deserts. It was inconceivable that the self regarding poser would have survived something like that.
Sir George began to check his notes as they steamed on to inspect the next beach. Hamilton’s elaborate plan was unfolding like clockwork. The first landings on the West of the peninsula looked to have been a great success. The sight of colonial troops swarming up the hills around the landing zone had impressed everyone greatly. As they sailed south to observe the landings at Cape Helles, signals came through that a primary
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