LAND &? WATER 
September 26, 1918 
The Dardanelles Campaign 
*By HENRY MORGENTHAU 
The Unrealised Victory of the Allied Fleets 
The failure of the Allied naval attack on the Dardanelles has never been adequately chronicled — until, with the 
appearance of Mr. Morgenthau's narrative, it becomes apparent that there was no failure, and that seventeen 
armour-piercing shells only lay between the Allied fleets and a clear road through the Straits to Constantinople. 
WE lunched at headquarters, where we were 
joined by Admiral Usedom, General Mertens, 
and General Pomiankowsky, the Austrian 
Military Attache at Constantinople. The chief 
note in the conversation was one of absolute con- 
fidence in the future. Whatever the diplomatsand politicians in 
Constantinople may have thought, these men, Turks and 
Germans, had no expectation — at least, their conversation 
betrayed none— that the Allied fleets would pass their 
defences. What they seemed to hope for above everything 
was that their enemies would make another attack. 
" If we could only get a chance at the Queen Elizahelh ! " 
said one eager German, referring to the greatest ship in the 
British Navy, then lying off the entrance. 
As the Rhine wine began to disappear, their eagerness 
for the corribat increased. 
The Turkish and German officers, indeed, seemed to vie 
with each other in expressing their readiness for the fray. 
Probably a good deal of this was bravado, intended for my 
consumption — indeed, I had private information that their 
real estimate of the situation was much less reassuring. 
Now, however, they declared that the war had presented no 
real opportunity for the German and English navies to measure 
swords, and for this reason the Germans at the Dardanelles 
welcomed this chance to try the issue. • 
Having visited all the important places on the Anatolian 
side, we took a launch and sailed over to the Gallipoli penin- 
sula. We a'most had a disastrous experience on this trip. 
As we approached the Gallipoli shore, our helmsman was 
asked if he knew the location of the minefield and if he could 
steer through the channel. He said "yes," and then steered 
directly for the mines ! Fortunately the other men noticed 
the mistake in time, and so we arrived safely at Kilid-ul- 
Bahr. The batteries here were of about the same character 
as those on the other side ; tliey formed one of the main 
defences of the Straits. Here everything, so far as a layman 
could judge, was in excellent condition, barring the fact that 
the artillery pieces were of old design and the ammunition 
not at all plentiful. 
The batteries showed signs of a heavy bombardment. 
None had been destroyed, but shell holes surrounded the 
fortification. My Turkish and German friends looked at 
these evidences of destruction rather seriously, and they were 
outspoken in their admiration for the accuracy of the Allied 
fire. 
" How do they ever get the range ? " This was the ques- 
tion they were asking each other. What made the shooting 
so remarkable was the fact that it came, not from Allied 
ships in the Straits, but from ships stationed in the jEgean 
Sea, on the other side of the Gallipoli peninsula. The gunners 
had never seen their target, but had had to fire at a distance 
of nearly ten miles, over high hills, and yet many of their 
shells had barely missed the batteries at Kilid-ul-Bahr. 
When I was there, however, the place was quiet, for no 
fighting was going on that day. For my particular benefit 
the officers put one of their gun crews through a drill, so that 
I could obtain a perfect picture of the behaviour of the Turks 
in action. In their minds' eyes these artillerists now saw 
the English ships advancing within range, all their guns 
pointed to destroy the followers of the Prophet. The bugle- 
man blew his horn, and the whole company rushed to their 
appointed places. Some were bringing shells, others were 
opening the breeches, others were taking the ranges, others 
were straining at pullej'S, and others were putting the charges 
into place. Everything was quickness and alertness ; evi- 
dently the Germans had been excellent instructors, but there 
was more to it than German military precision, for the men's 
faces lighted up with all that fanaticism which supplies the 
morale of Turkish soldiers. These gunners momentarily 
imagined that they were shooting once more at the infidel 
English, and the exercise was a congenial one. Above the 
shouts of all I could hear the sing-song chant of the leader, 
intoning the prayer with which the Moslem has rushed to 
battle for thirteen centuries : 
"Allah is great, there is but one God, and Mohammed is' 
his Prop^iet ! " 
When I looked upon these frenzied men, and saw so plainly 
written in their faces their uncontrollable hatred of the 
unbelievers, I called to mind what the Germans had said 
in the morning about the wisdom of not putting Turkish 
and German soldiers together. I am quite sure that, had 
this been done, here at least the "Holy War" would have 
proved a success, and that the Turks would have vented 
their hatred of Christians on those who happened to be 
nearest at hand, for the moment overlooking the fact that 
they were allies. 
The Attack of March i8th 
I returned to Constantinople that evening, and two days 
afterward, on March i8th, the Allied fleet made its greatest 
attack. As all the world knows, that attack proved disas- 
trous to the Allies. The outcome was the sinking of the 
Bouvet, the Ocean, and the Irresistible, and the serious crip- 
pling of four other vessels. Of the sixteen ships engaged in 
this battle of the i8th, seven were thus put temporarily or 
permanently out of action. Naturally the Germans and 
Turks rejoiced over this victory. The police went around, 
and ordered householders each to display a prescribed number 
of flags in honour of the event. The Turkish people have so 
little spontaneous patriotism or enthusiasm of any kind 
that they would never decorate their establishments without 
such definite orders ! As a matter of fact, neither Germans 
nor Turks regarded this celebration too seriously, for they 
were not yet persuaded that they had really won a victory. 
Most still believed that the Allied fleets would succeed in 
forcing their way through. The only question, they said, 
was whether the Entente was ready to sacrifice the necessary 
number of ships. Neither Wangenheim nor Pallavicini 
believed that the disastrous experience of the i8th would 
end the naval attack, and for days they anxiously waited 
for the fleet to return. This was the general expectation, 
for no one believed that the Allies, after making this great 
demonstration, would accept defeat after the loss of only 
three ships. The high tension lasted for days and weeks 
after the repulse of the i8th. We were still momentarily 
expecting the renewal of the attack. But the great armada 
•never returned. 
Should it have come back ? Could the Allied ships really 
have captured Constantinople ? I am constantly asked this 
question. As a layman, my own opinion can have little 
value, but I have quoted the opinions of the German generals 
and admirals, and of the Turks — practically all of whom, 
excepting Enver, believed that the enterprise would succeed, 
and 1 am half-inclined to believe that Enver's attitude was 
merely a case of graveyard whistling. In what I now have 
to say on this point, therefore, I wish it understood that 
I am not giving my own views, but merely those of the 
officials then in Turkey who were best qualified to judge. 
Enver had told me, in our talk on the deck of the Yurtik, 
that he had "plenty of guns — plenty of ammunition." But 
this statement was not true. A glimpse at the map will 
show why Turkey was not receiving munitions from Ger- 
many or Austria at that time. The fact was that Turkey 
was just as completely isolated from her allies then as was 
Russia. There were two railroad lines leading from Con- 
stantinople to Germany. One went by way of Bulgaria 
and Serbia. Bulgaria was then not an ally ; even though 
she had winked at the passage of guns and shells, this line 
could not have been used, since Serbia, which controlled the 
vital link extending from Nish to Belgrade, was still intact. 
The other railroad line went through Rumania, by way of 
Bucharest. This route was independent of Serbia, and, had 
the Rumanian Government consented, it would have formed 
a clear route from the Krupps to the Dardanelles. The fact 
that munitions could be sent off with the connivance of the 
Rumanian Government perhaps accounts for the suspicion 
that guns and shells were going by that route. Day after 
