Ottoman Fifth Army Command Center, Bolayer Village
When Sanders first heard that the enemy had landed near the village of Ania, he was utterly stunned.
"That part of the coast can't possibly support a landing!" Sanders looked at his aide, bewildered, then, after a pause, demanded seriously, "Are you certain? Could there have been a mistake?"
He suspected this might be a case of false reporting. Instances had occurred before in Gallipoli, where some inexperienced soldiers tried to feign activity as a way to avoid real combat.
"No, General," the aide replied confidently. "The report is confirmed. There was indeed an enemy landing, and the Third Battalion, which was stationed there, has already retreated. We're not entirely clear on the details."
Sanders stared at the map in silence, then made a judgment call: this must be a feint.
Given the information he had and the limitations of his era, this line of reasoning was understandable. The suddenness of the attack left the Third Battalion with no time even to make a phone call before their lines broke. Some soldiers had scattered and fled, but there was no way for them to communicate this information quickly. In those days, finding a working telephone line was difficult, especially on the remote, impoverished Gallipoli Peninsula.
So all Sanders knew for sure was that there was enemy activity near Ania Village.
"Ania Village is surrounded by reefs," Sanders said, regaining his composure. "There's no way the enemy can launch a large-scale landing there. This must be a small raiding party that slipped in under cover of darkness, using small boats."
"To divert our attention?" his aide asked. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NoᴠᴇFɪre.nᴇt
"Precisely." Sanders nodded. "They want us to shift reinforcements to Ania, so they can launch a surprise attack elsewhere."
With this conclusion, Sanders didn't hesitate. He issued his order: "Have Bahar deploy a battalion to reinforce Ania, but keep all other units in place and closely monitor the other directions. Be prepared for combat!"
"Yes, General!" the aide replied.
As the aide turned to relay the order, Sanders called him back. "And dispatch a reconnaissance plane. Let's get a clear picture of what's happening there!"
Although Sanders remained cautious, he couldn't shake the feeling that if the enemy had truly managed a substantial landing at Ania, it could pose a critical threat to the defense of Gallipoli.
Meanwhile, Bahar was already overwhelmed trying to hold Ania.
The Third Corps under his command included three infantry divisions totaling over 50,000 soldiers, yet he had very limited forces he could spare to reinforce Ania. Other units were either too far away or were busy defending the coastline. While distant forces couldn't offer immediate support, pulling units from the coast could risk leaving sections of the shoreline vulnerable.
Studying the map, Bahar thought for a moment and murmured to himself, "Only the Army Guard Battalion can reinforce Ania quickly. If they can hold off the enemy until other reinforcements arrive, we should be secure."
He was about to call the Army Command when the phone on his desk rang. It was Quinn, the aide-de-camp from the headquarters, and like Bahar, Quinn was originally from Salonika, so the two often chatted longer than strictly necessary.
"The General believes this is probably a feint, Colonel," Quinn said, his tone steady. "We're only deploying one battalion to reinforce Ania. Otherwise, we're holding all other positions and staying alert."
"I'm not so sure," Bahar interrupted, disagreeing. "They're advancing at an astonishing speed, too fast for a feint."
Bahar's concern stemmed from the rapid succession in which contact was lost with his lines. First, the Third Battalion fell silent, then the Second—both had gone dark without warning.
Then, suddenly, lines in these areas reconnected, with each operator reporting everything was "normal." But Bahar couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
"Relax, Colonel," Quinn replied, analyzing the situation. "You know as well as I do that the reefs around Ania make any sustained landing operation unfeasible. The enemy won't be able to maintain a supply line there, so they're bound to run out of ammunition."
Ottoman forces primarily used German Mauser rifles, which were incompatible with French munitions, adding weight to Quinn's argument. Without consistent daytime resupply, the enemy's landing force would eventually deplete its ammunition.
"But I've heard they have tanks," Bahar insisted, sounding tense. "Charles's tanks—this could be Charles's force."
Quinn laughed. "Colonel, I'd like to know just how they managed to land tanks on that beach."
"They…" Bahar fell silent. He had heard rumors that these tanks had rolled straight out of the sea, but even he found it hard to believe. Saying it out loud would only earn him more derision.
Seeing that Bahar had no reply, Quinn gave the order. "Follow the General's instructions, Colonel. Send one battalion from the 70th Regiment to Ania and monitor for any other enemy activity."
"Yes, I will follow orders," Bahar replied in a resigned tone.
This information delay was an intentional part of Charles's plan: to end the battle before the enemy could fully grasp the situation.
War often hinges on intelligence. Without accurate information, the enemy can't effectively respond. While achieving this might be difficult with modern technology, during World War I, with its limited communication capabilities, it was feasible.
(Author's Note: Even during World War II, this strategy was possible. The concept of blitzkrieg capitalized on the enemy's incomplete situational awareness to quickly break through defenses.)
Charles's information blockade consisted of three key strategies:
"First, the skies. The enemy will likely send out reconnaissance planes," Charles said, looking at General Winter.
Winter nodded. "Understood. I'll instruct the Ark Royal to assist. Its seaplanes will take down any enemy aircraft that dares to take flight."
"Not only that, General," Charles added. "I need them to recon the advance line ahead and relay intel back to us."
"Of course!" Winter nodded again, confident. The Ottomans had barely a dozen reconnaissance planes, and none of them were equipped with machine guns.
"Second, the land." Charles turned to Tijani. "Our advance must be swift. If we maintain our pace, the enemy won't have time to relay accurate reports."
"Understood, Colonel." Tijani straightened up. "We'll keep pressing forward until we reach the other side of the peninsula!"
Lastly, Charles continued, "We need control over communications along the enemy's defense line. We'll need men who speak Ottoman."
Hamilton interjected, "I'll handle that. We've prepared plenty of translators."
Hamilton looked slightly sheepish. Originally, these translators were intended to help interrogate prisoners or communicate with locals, but so far, they hadn't seen much use.
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