FURTHER INCIDENTS OF OUR JOURNEY
It was at Manchulli that an incident happened which was much talked
about at the time and was given many strange versions. It is quite
easily explained when all the facts are known. It was impossible to
secure proper travelling accommodation for my officers, either at
Spascoe or Nikolsk, but I was informed that such would be provided at
Harbin. In company with the British Consul (Mr. Sly) I called upon the
manager of the railway at Harbin to secure such accommodation. He was
very polite and promised to do all he could to help, but next morning
informed me that no carriage was available, but if I could find one
empty I could take it. I failed, and reported the fact to him. He could
do nothing, but said there were plenty at Manchulli held up by Colonel
Semianoff and the Japanese, who laid hold of every carriage that tried
to get through this station, and that Colonel Semianoff collected a
great revenue by refusing to part with these carriages unless the user
was prepared to pay very high prices for the same. If I was prepared to
take the risk, and would use force if necessary to secure carriages, I
should be able to get them there, and so far as the railway authorities
at Harbin were concerned, I could take any two empty carriages I might
find.
The weather was beginning to get very cold, and each mile added to our
discomfort, and the only accommodation for officers on two of the three
trains were cattle trucks. After my official visit I made request for
two carriages. The station commandant pretended to consult the Russian
and Japanese officials, and then informed me that there was not one
available. I told him it was untrue. He agreed that if I could point out
any carriages unoccupied I could have them. He went with his register to
the carriages I indicated, and he admitted they were idle and empty and
I would be allowed to take them. I put a guard on the carriages and
thought the incident settled, but nothing is settled for long in the Far
East. I made request for these carriages to be shunted on to my trains,
and after a two hours' wait went to the station about the shunting and
was calmly informed that they knew nothing about the carriages. The
commandant, with whom I arranged the matter, had gone home (an old
dodge!), and would not be on duty till to-morrow, and that nothing else
could be done.
It was reported to me that the reason the carriages could not be secured
was that the railway officials of a certain Power had given instructions
that no "class" carriages were to be provided for British officers, as
it was necessary that the population along the route should understand
that we were not considered representatives of a first-class Power.
Englishmen who have not travelled much in the Far East will scarcely
understand the working of the Oriental mind in these matters. An officer
of any Power who travels in a cattle truck will not only lose the
respect of the Oriental for his own person, but will lower the standard
of the country he represents, irrespective of its position in the comity
of nations. The representative of the Isle of Man, if he travelled in
the best style, would stand before the representative of His Majesty the
King if his means of transit were that of a coolie. It is doubtless very
stupid, but it is true. Your means of locomotion fixes your place in the
estimation of the East, because it is visible to them, while your
credentials are not.
I there and then made up my mind to act, and if necessary go "the whole
hog." I informed the authorities that nothing should be shunted in that
station until those two carriages were joined to my trains, and
proceeded to occupy the whole station. Up to this point I had neither
seen nor heard anything of the Japanese in relation to this matter, but
they now came on the scene, and I soon discovered that it was they who
had engineered the whole opposition to the British officers getting
suitable accommodation, and had spirited away the old commandant who had
registered the carriages to me. At first they did not know the correct
line to adopt, but made a request that the guard should be taken off the
station. My answer was, "Yes, instantly, if it is understood that these
carriages are to be shunted to my trains." They agreed to this, and my
guards were taken off, having held the station for twenty-three minutes.
I had my evening meal, and was expecting to start when I was informed
that the Japanese had now placed guards upon my carriages and refused
to allow them to be shunted on to my train. I thought this was just
about the limit, and before taking action decided I had better discover
the reason, if any, for what seemed a definite breach of faith. I
visited the Japanese station officer, and he said that they had just
discovered that these two carriages were set aside to convey General
Fugi to Harbin a few days hence. I refused to believe that such a
discovery could have only just been made, and I would take the carriages
by force if necessary.
It looked very awkward, and a Japanese Staff officer was sent for. I
sent my liaison officer (Colonel Frank) to find the absent station
commandant who had allocated the cars to me. The Japanese Staff officer
was expressing his sorrow for my not being able to get any carriages for
my officers and pointing out how impossible it would be for the train of
General Fugi to be broken up by the loss of the two carriages I had
claimed, when in stalked the old Russian commandant and blew these
apologies sky high by declaring that these carriages had nothing to do
with General Fugi's train; that they were unemployed, and they were
mine. I decided to strengthen the guard to eighteen men on each
carriage, and offered protection to the railwaymen who shunted them to
my train. The Japanese soldiers followed the carriages on to my train,
so that we had the strange sight of a row of Tommies with fixed bayonets
on the cars, and a row of Japanese soldiers on the ground guarding the
same carriages. No officer came to give them open instructions, but the
Jap soldiers disappeared one at a time until the Tommies were left in
undisputed possession.
We returned to my car to find it guarded by Chinese soldiers. I asked
the reason, and was informed that at an earlier stage of this incident a
Chinese officer had been to my car with a note to inform me that the
great friendship which the Chinese always bore to the great English
nation made it impossible for them to stand by and allow their friends
to be attacked while passing through Chinese territory. I thanked them
for their friendship, and suggested that Englishmen were always capable
of protecting themselves in any part of the world, wherever their duty
took them; but they would listen to nothing, and remained on guard until
my train moved out of the station.
I do not suppose there was at any time real danger of a collision
between the different forces at Manchulli, but it had the appearance of
a very ugly episode that might have developed into one of international
importance. I took my stand for the sole purpose of maintaining the
dignity of the British Army. Other incidents connected with this small
dispute about officer accommodation, yet having nothing to do with it,
made me determined to carry my point.
During these proceedings I noticed my liaison officer in angry dispute
with two Japanese officers against a truck carrying the Union Jack as an
indication of the nationality of the train. They were pointing to the
flag in such a manner that I saw at once the dispute was about this
offending emblem. When the Japanese officers had moved away I called
Colonel Frank to me and inquired the cause of dispute. He said: "I can
understand the contempt of the Japanese for our Russia; she is down and
is sick, but why they should wish to insult their Ally, England, I
cannot understand. The Japanese officers who have just left me inquired
where the English commander got his authority to carry an English flag
on his train. I answered it was an English train carrying an English
battalion to Omsk, and no authority was necessary. The Japanese officers
replied that they considered the flying of any other flag than theirs in
Manchuria or Siberia an insult to Japan. I told them they were fools,
that if the English commander had heard their conversation (they both
spoke in Russian) he would demand an apology. At which they grinned and
departed." We tried every means to find the two officers, but were
unable to do so. This was the atmosphere in which we discussed the
smaller subject, and may explain the obstinacy of both sides; at any
rate, it had something to do with my determination.
We arrived at Chita without further incident of importance. Bread and
horse exercise delayed us one whole day, and inability to secure engines
part of another, until in desperation I went with a squad of men to the
sheds and forced an engine-driver to take out his engine, I myself
riding on the tender, where I nearly lost my sight with hot debris from
the funnel, while Major Browne, who stood sentinel beside the driver,
had holes scorched in his uniform. This act of violence secured not only
an engine for my train, but for the others also.
I had broken my glasses, and it was necessary to secure others. I walked
to the town and called at the shop of a jeweller and optician, with whom
we conversed. Other customers joined in the talk, and we were here
informed of the murder of the present owner's mother during the
Bolshevik occupation of the town. The Soviet Commisar, with Red
soldiers, visited the shop one day to loot the stock. The mother, an old
lady over sixty years of age who was then looking after the business,
protested against the robbery of her property. The commisar ordered one
of the Red Guard to bayonet her, which he did. They then proceeded to
remove everything of value, locked up the premises with the dead woman
still lying on the shop floor, and for several days refused permission
to her neighbours to give her decent burial on the plea that she was a
counter-revolutionist. It was evident from the appearance of the place
that the Red soldiers were pretty expert at this sort of business; but
stories like this are so numerous that it is nauseating to repeat them.
The next point of interest was Lake Baikal, or as it is more correctly
described by the Russians, the "Baikal Sea." We approached this famous
lake on a very cold Sunday evening, and long before we reached its
shores the clear cold depths of the water gave evidence of its presence
in the changed atmosphere. A furious gale was blowing across the lake
from the west, which lashed huge waves into fury and foam as they beat
in endless confusion on the rockbound shore. Blinding snow mixed with
the spray gave the inky blackness of the night a weird and sombre
appearance. Our Cossack attendant, Marca, droned a folk-song about the
wonders of the Baikal, which, when interpreted by my liaison officer,
fitted the scene to a fraction. We put up the double windows, listed the
doors and turned in for the night. I was fearful that we should leave
the lake before morning and so fail to get a daylight view of this most
interesting part of our journey. We all awoke early to find the scene so
changed as to appear almost miraculous.
The strange light of these northern zones was gently stealing over an
immense sea of clear, perfectly calm, glassy water, which enabled us to
locate the whiter coloured rocks at enormous depths. A fleecy line of
cloud hung lazily over the snow-capped mountains. The Great Bear nearly
stood on his head, and the Pole Star seemed to be almost over us. The
other stars shone with icy cold brilliance and refused to vanish, though
the sun had begun to rise. And such a rising! We could not see that
welcome giver of warmth and life, but the beautiful orange and purple
halo embraced half the world. From its centre shot upwards huge, long
yellow streamers which penetrated the darkness surrounding the stars and
passed beyond into never-ending space. Gradually these streamers took a
more slanting angle until they touched the highest peaks and drove the
cloud lower and lower down the side of the mountains. I have been on
the Rigi under similar conditions, but there is nothing in the world
like an autumn sunrise on Lake Baikal. I stopped the train ostensibly to
allow water to be obtained for breakfast, but really to allow the men to
enjoy what was in my opinion the greatest sight in the world. Some of
the men were as entranced as myself, while others (including officers)
saw nothing but plenty of clean fresh water for the morning ablutions.
We all have our several tastes even in His Majesty's Army.
Rumour says there are exactly the same fish to be found in Lake Baikal
as in the sea, with other varieties which represent ordinary fresh-water
types. I do not believe there is any authority for these statements. Sea
gulls of every known category are certainly to be found there, and wild
duck in variety and numbers to satisfy the most exacting sportsman.
Passing along this wonderful panorama for some hours we arrived at
Baikal. The maps supplied to me show the railway as making a bee line
from the south of the lake to Irkutsk. This is not so; the line does not
deviate an inch from the western shores of the lake until it touches the
station. Baikal is reached nearly opposite the point at which the
railway strikes the lake on the eastern side. The lake is fed by the
River Selengha, which drains the northern mountains and plains of
Mongolia. No river of importance enters it on the north except the
short, high Anghara; in fact, the rivers Armur and Lenha start from
quite near its northern and eastern extremities. It is drained on the
west by the famous River Anghara, which rises near Baikal, and enters
the Polar Sea at a spot so far north as to be uninhabitable, except for
the white bears who fight for the possession of icebergs.
Baikal had been the scene of a titanic struggle between the
Czecho-Slovak forces and the Bolsheviks, who had in case of defeat
planned the complete and effective destruction of the line by blowing up
the numerous tunnels alongside the lake, which it must have taken at
least two years to repair. The Czechs moved so rapidly, however, that
the enemy were obliged to concentrate at Baikal for the defence of their
own line of communication. Before they had made up their minds that they
were already defeated a lucky Czech shot struck their store of dynamite
and blew the station, their trains, and about three hundred of their men
to smithereens. The remainder retreated off the line in a southerly
direction, and after many days' pursuit were lost in the forests which
form the chief barrier between Siberia and Mongolia, to emerge later on
an important point on the railway near Omsk.
We stopped at Baikal for water and fuel, and examined the damage done by
the explosion. The great iron steamer which used to be employed to
convey the train from one side of the lake to the other was almost
destroyed, its funnels and upper works being wrenched and twisted beyond
repair. But out from every crevice of her hull and from every broken
carriage came German and Austrian prisoners of war dressed in every
conceivable style of uniform. There was no guard of any description, but
they all appeared to be under the direction of a young German officer,
who saluted very stiffly as we passed. No doubt existed amongst these
Germans (so I heard from our men later) that we were tramping towards
Germany and certain death. Not one would believe but that Germany would
win the war, and destroy not only England, but also America. They had no
feelings about France, nor would they consider her as other than an
already half-digested morsel. Quartermaster-Captain Boulton put it to
one prisoner: "But suppose Germany were defeated?" "Then," said the
prisoner, "I would never return to Germany again." We fell in with
thousands of German prisoners who all held a most perplexing view of
ourselves. They described us as the only real and bitter enemy of their
country. But the same men would volunteer to work for us rather than for
any other Ally, because they said we treated them fairly and behaved to
them like men, and listened to their grievances. That is something at
any rate.