attracted the attention of the world for nearly a year.

The expedition against the Dardanelles had been considered with the
greatest care, and approved by the naval authorities. That their
judgment was correct, however, is another question. The history of naval
warfare seems to make very plain that a ship, however powerful, is at a
tremendous disadvantage when attacking forts on land. The badly served
cannon of Alexandria fell, indeed, before a British fleet, but Gallipoli
had been fortified by German engineers, and its guns were the Krupp
cannon. The British fleet found itself opposed by unsurmountable
obstacles. Looking backward it seems possible, that if at the very start
Lord Kitchener had permitted a detachment of troops to accompany the
fleet, success might have been attained, but without the army the navy
was powerless.

The Peninsula of Gallipoli is a tongue of land about fifty miles long,
varying in width from twelve to two or three miles. It is a mass of
rocky hills so steep that in many places it is a matter of difficulty to
reach their tops. On it are a few villages, but there are no decent
roads and little cultivated land. On the southern shore of the
Dardanelles conditions are nearly the same. Here, the entrance is a flat
and marshy plain, but east of this plain are hills three thousand feet
high. The high ground overhangs the sea passage on both sides, and with
the exception of narrow bits of beach at their base, presents almost no
opportunity for landing.

A strong current continually sifts down the straits from the Sea of
Marmora.

Forts were placed at the entrance on both the north and south side, but