On Land And Sea At The Dardanelles by Thomas Charles Bridges

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[Illustration: Our splendid Indian troops stood ready at Alexandria to
embark for the Dardanelles.]

ON LAND AND SEA

AT THE

DARDANELLES

T.C. BRIDGES

[Illustration]

CONTENTS

CHAP.

I. THE OPEN PORT

II. THE LAST OF THE 'CARDIGAN CASTLE'

III. THE LANDING

IV. A RUSE OF WAR

V. PROMOTION

VI. GUNS!

VII. 'LIZZIE' LETS LOOSE

VIII. THE HUNTERS HUNTED

IX. THE BATTLE BY ROCKS

X. PRISONERS

XI. THE FIRING PARTY

XII. ABOVE THE NARROWS

XIII. THE SWEEPERS

XIV. G 2

XV. KEN MEETS AN OLD FRIEND

XVI. TACKLING THE TROOPER

XVII. THE BOARDING PARTY

XVIII. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

XIX. IN THE NICK OF TIME

LIST OF PHOTOGRAPHS

INDIAN TROOPS AT ALEXANDRIA

A FRIENDLY SALUTE

LANDING PARTY AT SARI BAIR

LANDING ON THE BEACH

AN ADVANCE INLAND

No. 1 FORT AT CAPE HELLES

ASLEEP ON A BED OF LIVE SHELLS

BARBED WIRE FOR BOMBS

THE TRIUMPHANT SUBMARINE

BRINGING IN A TURKISH SNIPER

TURKISH ARTILLERY REINFORCEMENTS

SEA-BATHING

ALLIED HEROES IN PLAY-TIME

At the Dardanelles

CHAPTER I

THE OPEN PORT

'Fun!' said Ken Carrington, as he leaned over the rail of the transport,
'Cardigan Castle,' and watched the phosphorescent waters of the Aegean
foaming white through the darkness against her tall side. 'Fun!' he
repeated rather grimly. 'You won't think it so funny when you find
yourself crawling up a cliff with quick-firers barking at you from behind
every rock, and a strand of barbed wire to cut each five yards, to say
nothing of snipers socking lead at you the whole time. No, Dave, I'll lay,
whatever you think, you won't consider it funny.'

Dave Burney, the tall young Australian who was standing beside Ken
Carrington, turned his head slowly towards the other.

'You talk as if you'd seen fighting,' he remarked in his soft but pleasant
drawl.

Ken paused a moment before replying.

'I have,' he said quietly.

Burney straightened his long body with unusual suddenness.

'The mischief, you have! My word, Ken, you're a queer chap. Here you and I
have been training together these six months, and you've never said a word
of it to me or any of the rest of the crowd.'

'Come to that, I don't quite know why I have now,' answered Ken Carrington
dryly.

Burney wisely made no reply, and after a few moments the other spoke
again.

'You see, Dave, it wasn't anything to be proud of, so far as I'm
concerned, and it brings back the most rotten time I ever had. So it isn't
much wonder I don't talk about it.'

'Don't say anything now unless you want to,' said Burney, with the quiet
courtesy which was part of him.

'But I do want to. And I'd a jolly sight sooner tell you than any one
else. That is, if you don't mind listening.'

'I'd like to hear,' said Burney simply. 'It's always been a bit of a
puzzle to me how a chap like you came to be a Tommy in this outfit. With
your education, you ought to be an officer in some home regiment.'

'That's all rot,' returned Ken quickly. 'I'd a jolly sight sooner be in
with this crowd than any I know of. And as for a commission, that's a
thing which it seems to me a chap ought to win instead of getting it as a
gift.

'But I'm gassing. I was going to tell you how it was that I'd seen
fighting. My father was in the British Navy. He rose to the rank of
Captain, and then had an offer from the Turkish Government of a place in
the Naval Arsenal at Constantinople.'

'From the Turks!' said Burney in evident surprise.

'Yes. Lots of our people were in Turkey in those days. It was a British
officer, Admiral Gamble, who managed all the Turkish naval affairs. That
was before the Germans got their claws into the wretched country.'

'I've heard of Admiral Gamble,' put in Burney. 'Well, what happened then?'

'My father took the job, and did jolly well until the Germans started
their games. Finally they got hold of everything, and five years ago
Admiral Gamble gave up. So did my father, but he had bought land in Turkey
and had a lot of friends there, so he did not go back to England.

'It was that same year, 1910, that he found coal on his land, and applied
for a concession to work it. The Turks liked him. They'd have given it him
like a shot. But the Germans got behind his back, and did him down. The
end was that they refused to let him work his coal.

'Of course he was awfully sick, but not half so sick as when a German
named Henkel came along and offered to buy him out at about half the price
he had originally paid for the place.

'Father had a pretty hot temper, there was a flaming row, and Henkel went
off, vowing vengeance.

'He got it, too. A couple of years later, came the big row in the Balkans,
and the war had hardly started before dad was arrested as a spy.'

'Henkel did that?' put in Burney.

'Henkel did it;' young Carrington's voice was very grim. 'Pretty
thoroughly too, as I heard afterwards. They took him to Constantinople,
and--and I've never seen him since.'

There was silence for some moments while the big ship ploughed steadily
north-eastwards through the night.

'And you?' said Burney at last.

'I--I'd have shared the same fate if it hadn't been for old Othman Pasha.
He was a pal of ours, as white a man as you want to meet, and he got me
away and over the border into Greece. It was in Thrace that I saw
fighting. I came right through it, and got mixed up in two pretty stiff
skirmishes.'

'My word, you've seen something!' said Burney. 'And--and, by Jove, I
suppose you understand the language.'

'Yes,' said Carrington quietly. 'I know the language and the people. And
you can take it from me that the Turks are not as black as they're
painted. It's Enver Bey and his crazy crowd who have rushed them into this
business. Three-quarters of 'em hate the war, and infinitely prefer the
Britisher to the Deutscher.'

'And how do you come to be in with us?' asked Burney.

'I joined up in Egypt,' Carrington answered. 'I went there two years ago
and got a job in the irrigation department. I've been there ever since.'

Again there was a pause.

'And what about Henkel?' asked Burney. 'Have you ever heard of him since?'

'Not a word. But'--Ken's voice dropped a tone--'I mean to. If he's alive
I'll find him, and--'

He stopped abruptly, and suddenly gripped Burney's arm.

'There's some one listening,' he whispered. 'I heard some one behind that
boat. No, stay where you are. If we both move, he'll smell a rat.'

'Well, good-night, Dave,' he said aloud. 'I must be getting below.'

Turning, he walked away in the direction opposite to that of the boat, but
as soon as he thought he was out of sight in the darkness, he turned
swiftly across the deck and made a wide circle.

He heard a rustle, and was just in time to see a dark figure dart forward,
the feet evidently shod in rubber soles which moved soundlessly over the
deck.

He dashed in pursuit, but it was too late. Being war time, the decks were
of course in darkness, and the man, whoever he was, disappeared--probably
down the forward hatch.

Ken came back to Burney.

'No good,' he said vexedly. 'The beggar was too quick for me.'

'Then there was some one there?'

'You bet. I saw him bolt.'

'Any notion who it was?'

Ken hesitated a moment.

'I'm not sure,' he answered in a low voice, 'but I've got my suspicions. I
think it was Kemp.'

'What--that steward?'

'Yes, the chap who looks after the baths.'

'My word, I wouldn't wonder,' said Burney thoughtfully. 'He's an ugly
looking varmint. But why should he be spying on you?'

'Haven't a notion. But I've spotted him watching me more than once since
we left Alexandria. I'm going to keep my eye on him pretty closely the
rest of the way.'

'Not much time left, old son. They say we'll be in Mudros Bay to-morrow
morning.'

'Yes, I heard that. Which reminds me. I'm going down to get a warm bath.
It may be the last chance for some time to come.'

This time Ken Carrington said good-night in earnest, and went below.

It was early for turning in, and nearly all of the troops aboard were
still on the mess deck. Ken got his things from his bag and went down the
passage to the bathroom. The 'Cardigan Castle' had been a swagger liner
until she was impounded by Government to act as troopship, and she was
provided with splendid bathrooms.

Carrington opened the door quietly, and was feeling for the switch of the
electric, when he noticed, to his great surprise, that a port hole
opposite was open.

Needless to say, this was absolutely forbidden. In war time a ship shows
no lights at all, and it is a fixed rule that everything below must be
kept closed and curtained.

Before he could recover from his first surprise he got a second shock. A
tiny pencil of light--just a single beam, no more than a few inches in
diameter--struck through the darkness and formed a small luminous circle
upon the white-painted wall above his head.

It only lasted an instant, then a dark figure rose between him and the
open port, and instantly the beam was intercepted, and all was dark as
before.

Through the gloom he vaguely saw the arm of the man who stood in front of
the port raised to a level with his head, while his hand moved rapidly.

Instantly he knew what was happening. This man was signalling. Carrington
had heard of the German signalling lamp which, by means of ingeniously
arranged lenses, throws one tiny ray which can be caught and flung back by
a specially constructed mirror. That was what was happening before his
very eyes. A glow of rage sent the blood boiling through his veins, and
forgetting all about the switch he sprang forward.

As ill luck had it, there was a wooden grating in the middle of the cement
floor. In the darkness, he failed to see this, and catching his toe,
stumbled and fell with a crash on hands and knees.

He heard a terrified yelp, and the man made a dash past him for the door.

But the door was closed. Carrington had shut it behind him. Before the
fellow could get it open, Ken was on his feet again, and had flung himself
on the signaller.

With a snarl like that of a trapped cat, the man wrenched one arm free.

'Take that!' he hissed, and next instant Ken felt the sting of steel
grazing his left shoulder. The sharp pain maddened him, and his grip
tightened so fiercely that he heard the breath whistle from his opponent's
lungs.

At the same time he flung all his weight forward, and the other, thrown
off his balance, went over backwards and came with a hollow crash against
the door.

The two fell to the floor together, and rolled over, fighting like wild
cats.

Ken's adversary was smaller than he, but he seemed amazingly strong and
active. He wriggled like an eel, all the time making frantic efforts to
get his right hand free, and use his knife again.

But Ken, aware of his danger, managed to get hold of the fellow's wrist
with his own left hand, and held it in a grip which the other, struggle as
he might, could not break. At the same time, Ken was doing all he knew to
get his knee on his enemy's chest.

It was the darkness that foiled him--this and the eel-like struggles of
his adversary. At last, in desperation, he let go with his right hand, and
drove his fist at the other's head. He missed his face, but hit him
somewhere, for he heard his skull rap on the floor, while the knife flew
out of his hand, and tinkled away across the cement floor.

Ken felt a thrill of triumph as he heaved himself up, and getting his
knees on his adversary's chest, seized him with both hands by the throat.

Before he could tighten his grip came a tremendous shock, and he was flung
off the other as if by a giant's hand. As he rolled across the floor,
followed a crash as though the very heavens were falling. The whole ship
seemed to lift beneath him, at the same time stopping short as though she
had hit a cliff.

[Illustration: 'Ken flung himself on the signaller.']

For an instant there was dead silence. Then from the decks above came
shouts and a pounding of feet. Half stunned, Ken struggled to his feet,
and staggered towards the door. As he did so, he heard the click of the
latch, and before he could reach it, it was banged in his face.

Groping in the darkness, he found the handle. He turned it, but the door
would not open. In a flash the truth blazed upon him. He was locked in.
The spy had locked the door on the outside. He was a helpless prisoner in
a torpedoed and probably sinking ship.

CHAPTER II

THE LAST OF THE 'CARDIGAN CASTLE'

Ken's head whirled. For the moment he was unable to collect his ideas. He
stood, grasping the door handle, listening to the thunder of feet overhead
and the shouted orders which came dimly to his ears.

He heard distinctly the creaking of winches, and knew that the boats were
being lowered. His worst suspicions were true; the ship was actually
sinking.

This lasted only a few seconds. Ken Carrington was not the sort to yield
weakly to panic. He pulled himself together, and felt for the switch.

It clicked over, but nothing happened. The shock of the explosion had
evidently thrown the dynamo out of gear. Then he remembered the little
electric torch which he always carried, and in an instant had it out of
his pocket, and switched it on.

He flashed the little beam across the floor, and its light fell upon the
wooden grating over which he had stumbled in his first rush at the enemy
signaller. This lay alongside the bath. It was about six feet long and
made of four heavy slats nailed on a framework.

It took Ken just about five seconds to lay down his lamp and heave up the
grating.

Short as the time had been since the first shock of the torpedo, the ship
was already beginning to list heavily. The floor of the bathroom now
sloped upwards steeply to the door.

The grating was very heavy, but in his excitement Ken swung it up as
though it had been no more than a feather. Balancing it, he charged
straight at the door.

The end of the grating struck the woodwork with a loud crash, but the
result was not what Ken had hoped. Hinges and lock remained firm. One
panel, however, was cracked and splintered.

He retreated again to make another attempt. But the list was growing
heavier every moment. It was all he could do to keep his feet. Ugly,
sucking noises down below told him that the water was rushing in torrents
into the hold of the doomed ship.

There was no question of making a second charge. Balancing himself as best
he could opposite the door, he pounded frantically at the cracked panel,
and at the third blow it broke away, leaving a jagged hole.

But this was not large enough for him to put his head through--let alone
his body. His one chance was that the key might still be in the lock.

Small blame to him that his heart was going like a trip-hammer as he
dropped the useless grating and snatched up his lamp.

The list was now so heavy that he had to cling to the door, as he thrust
his arm through the gap.

A gasp of relief escaped his lips as his fingers closed on the key. It
turned, but even then the door would not open. It was wedged.

Ken made a last desperate effort, and managed to force it open. As he
clawed his way through into the passage, the sea water came bursting up
through the floor of the bathroom behind him.

Somehow he managed to scramble along the passage, and up the companion to
the mess deck. There was not a soul in sight, and the ship now lay over at
such an angle that every moment it seemed as though she must capsize.

Up another ladder. He was forced to go on hands and feet, clinging like a
squirrel. Then he was on the boat deck, in a glare of white light flung on
the sinking ship by the searchlight of a British cruiser which had rushed
up to the rescue.

The sea seemed thick with boats pulling steadily away, and in every
direction the searchlights of the escorting destroyers wheeled and
flashed, as they rushed in circles, hunting for the submarine which had
struck the blow.

But the 'Cardigan Castle' was empty and deserted. With that marvellous
speed which only perfect discipline ensures, every soul had already been
got away into the boats. So far as he could see, Ken was left alone on the
fast sinking ship.

Even so, he was not ungrateful. If he had to perish, it was far better to
drown in the open than to come to his end like a trapped rat down below.

'Ken! Ken!'

Some one came rushing up into the searchlight's glare.

It was Dave Burney.

'I've been hunting the ship out for you,' exclaimed Dave breathlessly.

'I got locked in the bathroom,' Ken answered quickly. 'No time to explain
now. Tell you afterwards. I say, old man, it was jolly good of you to wait
for me, but I'm afraid you've overdone it. All the boats are away.'

'Hang the boats! Here--put this on. Sharp, for she won't last more'n a
couple of minutes.'

As he spoke, he flung Ken one of the life-saving waistcoats which are now
used instead of the old-fashioned lifebelts.

'It's all right,' he added, as he saw Ken glance at him sharply. 'I've got
one, too.'

Ken did not waste a moment in slipping on the queer garment, and blowing
it up.

'This way,' said Dave, as he scrambled up the steep deck to the weather
rail. Ken followed, and they had barely reached the rail when the big
liner rolled slowly over on to her side.

Dave sprang out on to her steel side which was now perfectly level.

'Hurry!' he shouted. 'She'll pull us down if we're not clear before she
sinks.'

He sprang out into the water. Ken followed his example, and the two
paddled vigorously away. Luckily for them, the ship did not sink at once.
She lay upon her beam ends for four or five minutes, and gave them time to
get to a safe distance. They were perhaps forty yards away when there came
a loud, hissing, gurgling sound.

'She's going!' cried Ken. Turning, he saw her stern tilt slowly upwards.
Then, with hardly a sound, the fine ship slid slowly downwards, and a
minute later there was no sign of her except a great eddy in which swung a
tangled mass of timber, lifebelts, canvas chairs, and all sorts of
floating objects from the decks.

[Illustration: 'He sprang into the water.']

'The brutes!' growled Dave. 'This means that the Turks have got
submarines.'

'I doubt it. That was probably the work of an Austrian or German craft.
Well, thank goodness, they only got the ship and not the men.'

'Ay, we'll get our own back for this before we're through,' growled Dave.
'My word, but it's cold! Hope they're not going to be long picking us up.'

'No. Here comes a boat,' Ken answered, as the searchlight showed a boat
pulling hard towards them. A couple of minutes later they were hauled
aboard, and in a very short time found themselves on the British destroyer
'Teaser.'

'Any more of you in the water?' asked her commander, Lieutenant Carey, a
keen, hard-bitten young man of about twenty-eight.

'No, sir, I think not,' Ken answered. 'I believe every one else got off in
the boats.'

'Yes, I don't think our German friends have much to boast of,' said the
other with a smile. 'We can build fresh ships all right, and so far as I
know they haven't got a single man. But you fellows look perished. Down
with you to the engine-room. Coxswain, get out some lammies for them, and
see they have cocoa.'

'Ay, ay, sir,' answered the coxswain.

But Ken paused.

'I have a report to make before I go below, sir.'

The commander looked a little surprised.

'All right. But quick about it. You'll be a hospital case if you stick
about in those wet togs much longer.'

Ken wasted no time in telling what he had seen in the bathroom of the
'Cardigan Castle,' just before she was sunk.

Commander Carey listened with interest.

'Who was this fellow?' he demanded.

'I never saw his face, sir, but by his voice I am pretty sure he was Kemp,
a steward.'

'Hm, it was rotten bad management, allowing a fellow like that to be
aboard a transport,' growled Carey. 'Very well, Carrington, I shall report
the matter at once by wireless, and if he is aboard any of the other
ships, you may be sure he'll be attended to. And I congratulate you on
getting out alive. Now go below and get a warm and a change. I'll land you
and your friend in Mudros Bay if I can, and if I have other orders I'll
tranship you.'

Feeling very shivery and tired, Ken was escorted below to the genial
warmth of the engine-room, where he found Dave already changed, and
engaged in putting away a great mugful of hot Navy cocoa.

The coxswain, big Tom Tingle, fished him out a suit of lammies, the warm
gray woollen garments which are the regular cold weather wear of the
British Navy, and, as soon as he had got into them, put a mug of steaming
cocoa into his hands.

[Illustration: A friendly salute in passing.]

[Illustration: The landing party at Sari Bair reached the beach covered by
the fire of their own guns.]

'Prime stuff, ain't it, Ken?' said Dave, and Ken, as he felt the grateful
warmth creeping through his chilled frame, nodded. Then he and Dave were
given a couple of blankets apiece, and with the beat of the powerful
engines as a lullaby were soon sleeping soundly.

When they awoke, the gray dawn light was stealing through the hatch
overhead, and the smart little ship lay at anchor, rocking peacefully to
the lift of a gentle swell.

'Rouse out, you chaps,' came Tingle's voice. 'Rouse out, if you want some
breakfast. The old man's going to put you aboard the 'Charnwood' to finish
your voyage. You'll find some of your pals in her, I reckon.'

'Did they get the submarine?' was Ken's first question.

Tingle's honest face darkened.

'No, by gosh. She slipped away in the dark, and never a one of us set eyes
on her. What are ye to do with a thing like that? It's like trying to
tackle a shark with a shot gun.'

'Here's your khaki,' he continued, 'dry and warm. Shift as sharp as ye
can. The old man, he don't wait for nobody.'

Ken and Dave changed in quick order, and as soon as they had finished were
conducted for'ard for breakfast. Biscuit, butter out of a tin, sardines,
and cocoa. War fare, but all the best of its kind, and the boys did
justice to it.

The 'old man'--that is, Commander Carey--was on the bridge when they came
on deck. He greeted them kindly, and Ken ventured to ask if anything had
been heard of Kemp.

'Not a word,' was the answer. 'He's not been picked up, so far as any one
knows. Probably he's food for the fishes by this time. Well, good-bye to
you. Wish you luck.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Ken and Dave together. Then they were over the side
into the collapsible, and were pulled straight across to the wall-sided
'Charnwood' which lay at anchor less than half a mile away.

Mudros Bay, which is a great inlet in the south of the island of Lemnos,
was alive with craft of all sorts. Warships and transports by the dozen,
British and French, were lying at anchor in every direction, and in and
out among them, across the brilliant, sunlit waters, dashed picket boats
and all sorts of small craft.

'My word, this looks like business!' said Dave, as he glanced round at the
busy scene.

'It does,' agreed Ken. 'Last time I was here, there were two tramps and an
old Turkish gunboat. Not a darned thing else.'

A couple of minutes later they were alongside the big 'Charnwood,' to be
greeted with shouts of delight from a number of their Australian comrades
who were leaning over the side.

They said good-bye to the destroyer men who had ferried them across, and
climbed the ladder to the deck, where they were immediately surrounded and
smacked on the back, and generally congratulated. The two were very
popular with the whole of their battalion, and their comrades were
unfeignedly glad to find that they had not lost the number of their mess.

Pushing through the throng, they went aft to report themselves to their
commanding officer, Colonel Conway. He had, of course, already heard of
Ken's adventure with the spy in the bathroom, but took him aside to get
further particulars.

'No, nothing has been heard of him,' he said. 'I do not think it possible
that he can have been picked up.

'And yet,' he added, 'that's odd, for he must have had plenty of time to
get on deck, and, so far as we can learn, we have not lost a man.'

'Do you think the submarine could have picked him up, sir?'

'Not a chance of it. She went under the very moment she had fired her
torpedo. If she had not, the destroyers would have got her.'

'I ought to have got Kemp, sir,' said Ken, rather ruefully.

'You did your best, Carrington,' the other answered kindly. 'And you are
to be congratulated that Kemp did not get you.'

Ken went back to join his friends forward, and answer a score of questions
as to the struggle in the bathroom. By the remarks of his companions who
had, one and all, lost everything they possessed, except what they stood
up in, it was clear that Kemp, if still alive, would stand a pretty thin
chance should any of these lusty Australians set eyes on him again.

There was no shore leave. No orders were out yet, but the rumour was
everywhere that they were to sail that very day.

Presently a tug came alongside with fresh provisions. She also brought a
quantity of rifles and ammunition to replace those lost in the sunken
'Cardigan Castle.' Spare uniforms, overcoats, and other kit were also put
aboard, and shared up among the shipwrecked troops.

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