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Джон, 2й барон Б'юлі - в його помісті зараз дуже цікавий Національний Автомобільний музей, створений його сином, недавно померлим 3м лордом Б'юлі (про який я писав тут: http://chestnut-ah.livejournal.com/939439.html
http://chestnut-ah.livejournal.com/939743.html
http://chestnut-ah.livejournal.com/940027.html
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/life/courtsocial/article4657152.ece
On this day: January 6, 1916
Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, who was a passenger on board the Persia when she was torpedoed, describes his miraculous escape in the telegram we publish below.
From Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, Malta, Jan 4. The Persia was torpedoed without warning at 1.5pm on Thursday, December 30. It was a fine day, with a moderate sea. The ship turned turtle and sank in five minutes. There was no panic among the passengers, but owing to the ship’s rapid heeling over to the port side it was impossible to launch the boats. The port side was submerged in two minutes, and the ship sank by the stern, dragging me down with her. When I was blown up to the surface again I saw a dreadful scene of struggling human beings. Nearly all the boats were smashed, and only three remained afloat. After a desperate struggle, I climbed on to the bottom of a broken boat with 28 Lascars and three other Europeans. Our number was reduced to 19 by Thursday night, and only 11 remained on Friday, the rest having died from exposure and injuries. We saw a neutral steamer pass close by on Thursday evening, but she took no notice of the red flare shown by another of the boats. We saw a large steamer three miles away on the next day, but she, too, ignored our signals, probably thinking they were a ruse of an enemy submarine. Our boat capsized constantly and we were all the time washed by the waves, so that we were almost exhausted when the second night began. At 8.30pm we saw the Alfred Holt steamer Ningchow and shouted as loudly as we could. At last she approached and rescued us on Friday night at 9 o’clock, after we had been 32 hours in the sea without water or food, except one biscuit since breakfast on Thursday. Our survival and rescue were absolutely miraculous in the circumstances. Captain Allen and the crew of the Ningchow did all that could possibly be done. Our lives are due to the Third Officer, Mr Maclean, who first heard our voices. We landed at Malta on Monday morning, where every kindness was shown to us by Captain Andrews, the P and O agent. I am staying with Lord Methuen until I have recovered from my injuries and shock. Everything was done by the officers and crew of the Persia, but it is marvellous that anyone escaped.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/life/courtsocial/article4658181.ece
On this day: January 7, 1916
Sir Ian Hamilton’s final dispatch upon the Dardanelles operations is published today, and will be read with mingled pride and sorrow throughout the Empire. It deals with the Dardanelles campaign from the end of June until October 16, when Sir Ian Hamilton was recalled. It describes the attack on the heights of Sari Bair from Anzac in early August, and the tragic failure of the simultaneous landing at Suvla Bay.
The story of the Suvla Bay landing is in many respects deplorable. The chief cause of its failure seems to have been, not the inexperience of the troops, nor the lack of water, but the incompetence of some of the Corps and Divisional commanders. They began badly, and appear to have lost their grip almost at once; when further difficulties arose they remained inactive. Sir Ian Hamilton says that “the one fatal error was inertia”, and he declares that “strong clear leadership had not been promptly enough applied”. Though this condemnation falls chiefly upon General Stopford, who was in command at Suvla Bay, it seems to us that Sir Ian Hamilton cannot escape some share of the criticism he applies to others. His own version of what happened is sufficiently extraordinary. He went to Suvla Bay on the afternoon of August 8, and found that nothing was being done. A further attack had been planned for next morning. He wanted an attack at once, and was met by excuses. He admits that, had the 11th Division started to attack at 10pm that night, or even at 4am next morning, the coveted heights might have been won. The inexplicable thing is that, although he points out what the Corps and Divisional commanders ought to have done, he made no successful attempt to compel them to act.
When everybody else has been amply and deservedly blamed for the mistakes at Suvla, we still think the final question will be: “Why did Sir Ian Hamilton, who was on the spot and knew the right course to follow, meekly efface himself at this most critical moment?” The story abounds in examples of heroic courage, but we can only deal here with the broader factors, and of these perhaps the most astonishing is Sir Ian Hamilton’s quite candid confession that on the evening of August 8 at Suvla Bay he knew what ought to be done, and did not do it.
http://chestnut-ah.livejournal.com/939743.html
http://chestnut-ah.livejournal.com/940027.html
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/life/courtsocial/article4657152.ece
On this day: January 6, 1916
Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, who was a passenger on board the Persia when she was torpedoed, describes his miraculous escape in the telegram we publish below.
From Lord Montagu of Beaulieu, Malta, Jan 4. The Persia was torpedoed without warning at 1.5pm on Thursday, December 30. It was a fine day, with a moderate sea. The ship turned turtle and sank in five minutes. There was no panic among the passengers, but owing to the ship’s rapid heeling over to the port side it was impossible to launch the boats. The port side was submerged in two minutes, and the ship sank by the stern, dragging me down with her. When I was blown up to the surface again I saw a dreadful scene of struggling human beings. Nearly all the boats were smashed, and only three remained afloat. After a desperate struggle, I climbed on to the bottom of a broken boat with 28 Lascars and three other Europeans. Our number was reduced to 19 by Thursday night, and only 11 remained on Friday, the rest having died from exposure and injuries. We saw a neutral steamer pass close by on Thursday evening, but she took no notice of the red flare shown by another of the boats. We saw a large steamer three miles away on the next day, but she, too, ignored our signals, probably thinking they were a ruse of an enemy submarine. Our boat capsized constantly and we were all the time washed by the waves, so that we were almost exhausted when the second night began. At 8.30pm we saw the Alfred Holt steamer Ningchow and shouted as loudly as we could. At last she approached and rescued us on Friday night at 9 o’clock, after we had been 32 hours in the sea without water or food, except one biscuit since breakfast on Thursday. Our survival and rescue were absolutely miraculous in the circumstances. Captain Allen and the crew of the Ningchow did all that could possibly be done. Our lives are due to the Third Officer, Mr Maclean, who first heard our voices. We landed at Malta on Monday morning, where every kindness was shown to us by Captain Andrews, the P and O agent. I am staying with Lord Methuen until I have recovered from my injuries and shock. Everything was done by the officers and crew of the Persia, but it is marvellous that anyone escaped.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/tto/life/courtsocial/article4658181.ece
On this day: January 7, 1916
Sir Ian Hamilton’s final dispatch upon the Dardanelles operations is published today, and will be read with mingled pride and sorrow throughout the Empire. It deals with the Dardanelles campaign from the end of June until October 16, when Sir Ian Hamilton was recalled. It describes the attack on the heights of Sari Bair from Anzac in early August, and the tragic failure of the simultaneous landing at Suvla Bay.
The story of the Suvla Bay landing is in many respects deplorable. The chief cause of its failure seems to have been, not the inexperience of the troops, nor the lack of water, but the incompetence of some of the Corps and Divisional commanders. They began badly, and appear to have lost their grip almost at once; when further difficulties arose they remained inactive. Sir Ian Hamilton says that “the one fatal error was inertia”, and he declares that “strong clear leadership had not been promptly enough applied”. Though this condemnation falls chiefly upon General Stopford, who was in command at Suvla Bay, it seems to us that Sir Ian Hamilton cannot escape some share of the criticism he applies to others. His own version of what happened is sufficiently extraordinary. He went to Suvla Bay on the afternoon of August 8, and found that nothing was being done. A further attack had been planned for next morning. He wanted an attack at once, and was met by excuses. He admits that, had the 11th Division started to attack at 10pm that night, or even at 4am next morning, the coveted heights might have been won. The inexplicable thing is that, although he points out what the Corps and Divisional commanders ought to have done, he made no successful attempt to compel them to act.
When everybody else has been amply and deservedly blamed for the mistakes at Suvla, we still think the final question will be: “Why did Sir Ian Hamilton, who was on the spot and knew the right course to follow, meekly efface himself at this most critical moment?” The story abounds in examples of heroic courage, but we can only deal here with the broader factors, and of these perhaps the most astonishing is Sir Ian Hamilton’s quite candid confession that on the evening of August 8 at Suvla Bay he knew what ought to be done, and did not do it.