“To man a trench and live among the lice…”
All things considered, today’s Commonwealth service marking the 100th anniversary of the Gallipoli landings was moving and dignified. It was Winston Churchill’s idea to open up a new front in the Great War as “an alternative to chewing barbed wire in Flanders”. It proved to be one of the worst disasters in 20th century imperial history: By the end, the British and Ottoman empires had lost roughly the same number of men – about 200,000 apiece. On the invading side, the dead numbered 34,072 from the British Isles, 8,709 from Australia, 2,721 from New Zealand, 1,358 from India, and 49 from the Royal Newfoundland Regiment (the only North American participants) – plus 9,798 of Britain’s French allies. Those numbers do not include death from illness. In the botched landings, the sea ran red. In the carnage of the metropolitan power’s miscalculations, a post-colonial Australia and New Zealand were born.
There were certain ironies at today’s observances. Kemal Atatürk first made his name as a Turkish commander at Gallipoli. Playing host today was President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, the man who is systematically dismantling the modern secular state Kemal founded and replacing it with something harder and older, explicitly Islamic and slyly neo-Ottoman. The chumminess between him and the Prince of Wales was one of the queasier aspects of the day.
His Royal Highness read from John Masefield’s account of Gallipoli, published in 1916. His son, Prince Harry, chose an excerpt from A P Herbert’s poem “The Bathe”. I think of Herbert as a light versifier and musical comedy man (he wrote the lyrics for Vivian Ellis’ big West End hit, Bless The Bride). But a century ago he was part of the Royal Naval Division’s Hawke Batallion, en route to Cape Helles. This is what he wrote: