Redemption - Leon Uris [204]
“How soon will your battalion be ready?”
“Two or three weeks of intense schooling. A month to two months when we get our mules.”
“Good,” Brodhead said, not containing what he had just tried to contain. “The opening naval salvo on Gallipoli is a matter of a few weeks away. The Queen Mary, our top new super-dreadnought, has completed its shakedown cruise and will be en route shortly to join our fleet. The French are forming up at Toulon.”
“Does give one a bit of a start, doesn’t it, sir?”
“Our troops are not ready, Chris. My Anzacs in particular could use a solid three or four more months of training. Fortunately, Darlington—”
“I understand your feelings about Darlington.”
“Fortunately, General Darlington insists he will not invade until the 29th Division arrives from England. It’s a veteran division, one of our best. Is Darlington playing it safe or is Darlington timid?” he wondered aloud. “Truth is, we haven’t faced a modern white army since Napoleon. Darlington may be too old school for this kind of operation, too many new wrinkles in this landing from the sea. You’ve been in on many of the planning sessions.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You see how he hedges. We haven’t much beach, particularly if we have to land from the Adriatic side. A lot of our thinking is based on the fact that the Turks are exhausted from the Balkan War and that their main army is tied up on the Russian front. But bear in mind—the Balkan union broke its skull trying to capture Gallipoli and lost a number of warships to the Turkish coastal guns.”
“Shouldn’t our naval bombardment pretty well reduce the Turkish guns, sir?”
“Too fucking much is being made of naval gunfire. The Germans have put one of their top men, General von Limon, in command of the Dardanelles defense. The Turks have opened an ammunition factory south of Constantinople. There are red hot radicals full of fight in the Turkish officers corps. From what little intelligence we can glean out of that Gallipoli wilderness, von Limon is going to stuff five or six divisions in there.
“As for the coastal guns,” he continued to unload, “von Limon will replace them with mobile howitzer batteries. The coastal guns are meant to play pitty-pat with warships. Howitzers can loop fire down on troops and keep changing locations.”
After a consideration, Brodhead dropped the bombshell. “We have to hit the beach running. The British must take the Achi Baba hilltop five miles inland and we must take Chunuk Bair, also five miles inland, in the first week. If Darlington dawdles we are in for one long hot summer. Chris, when the history of this war is writ, I absolutely guarantee you that more men will be killed and wounded by the machine gun than by all other weapons combined. The Gallipoli Peninsula has more places to hide machine guns than any piece of ground the British Empire has ever tried to capture.”
“We’ll take those hills, sir.”
Proper stuff coming from a proper officer, Brodhead thought. We’ll take those hills, sir. Shit! He did not share his final thought with the young major that if he were defending Gallipoli with his Anzacs, he could hold out forever.
The general’s aide knocked and entered, then laid an order on the desk for his signature.
“I thought that as long as Major Hubble was here you might as well approve this for him.”
“Let’s see here,” Brodhead said adjusting his glasses. “Forced night march exercise, battalion strength, to…Jesus Christ…Wadi Muzzam…hummm.” He dismissed his aide with a wave of the hand.
“Bit drastic, what?” Brodhead said. “Shouldn’t your lads be concentrating on their mule training?”
“We don’t have any mules, sir. Until we do there is only so much schooling we can give them. Otherwise, I intend to have the Seventh the most battle-ready battalion in the Corps.”
“This wouldn’t be entailing some kind of collective punishment, would it, Chris?”
Chris held tight so as not to fumble his thoughts. He had laid