I MEET THE FOURTH COMPANY--A COLD NIGHT RIDE
We were all up at daybreak next morning as usual; no good Serbian
sleeps after the first streak of light. It was still snowing fearfully
hard, making it impossible to go out, though the Commandant and his
Staff Captain rode out somewhere all the morning. We had sundry cups
of tea and coffee during the morning and a pretty substantial snack
of bread and eggs and cold pig about ten. I protested that I was not
hungry, and that we should have lunch when the Commandant came in, but
they reminded me of what had happened to me yesterday in the matter of
meals, and might possibly happen again to-morrow, and advised me to eat
and sleep whenever I got a chance. They were old soldiers and spoke
from experience, and I subsequently found it to be very good advice.
It was a long day, as we had nothing to do. In the afternoon the doctor
started to teach me some Serbian verbs, and afterwards we all played
“Fox and Goose,” and I initiated them into the mysteries of “drawing a
pig with your eyes shut,” and any other games we could think of with
pencil and paper to while away the time.
About dusk we set forth again to a small village, Orizir, close to
Bitol. It was pitch dark as we splashed across a field and a couple of
streams to another little house which we occupied. It consisted of two
tiny rooms, up a sort of ladder, with a fair-sized balcony in front.
The balcony was quite sheltered with a big pile of straw at one end,
and I elected to sleep there, though they were fearfully worried about
it, and declared I should die of cold, in spite of my protestations
that English people always sleep much better in the open air than in a
hot room with all the windows shut. Foreigners always look upon English
people as more than half mad on the subject of fresh air, especially
at night. The next day my orderly, who was in a great state of mind,
and seemed to think that I would lose caste with his fellow orderlies
if I persisted in sleeping on the balcony, told me that he had found
another room for me in a hahn by the roadside, where I accordingly
slept the next night, and subsequently we all moved down there. I
actually got my long-sought-for bath that day, my resourceful man
borrowing a sort of stable for me for an hour and fixing it up for me.
As all old campaigners know, a certain kind of live stock, and plenty
of them, is the inevitable accompaniment to this sort of life, and is
one of its greatest trials, though you do get more or less used even
to that. I burnt a hole in my vest cremating some of them, but judging
by the look of my bathroom, where the soldiers had been sleeping, I
am not at all sure that I did not carry more away with me than I got
rid of. While I was engaged in this interesting occupation my orderly
called out that the English Consul was there and wished to see me, so
I hastily dressed and went out to interview him. He had come in a car
to take me back to Salonica with him if I wanted to go, which of course
I did not; so he just drove me into town to pick up a large case of
cigarettes which I had previously ordered from Salonica for myself and
the soldiers and anyone else who ran short of them, and he also gave me
a case of tins of jam and one of warm woollen helmets, which were very
much appreciated by the men. He said he thought I was quite right to
stop, and we parted warm friends.
When I got back I found the Staff Captain, who was the Commandant’s
right hand, just going out for another cold ride. He had had fever for
the last two or three days, and looked so fearfully ill that I begged
him not to go, as, however much he might, and did, boss everybody
when he was well, he might let himself be looked after a little bit
when he was ill. Rather to my surprise he submitted quite meekly, and
let me dose him with quinine, and tuck him up in his blankets by the
stove, and as he was shivering violently I told his orderly to make
him some hot tea and stand outside the door to see that no one came in
to disturb him. As the tea did not seem to be forthcoming, I went out
presently to see what was up, and found him with several of his fellow
orderlies sitting in the snow round the camp fire having a meal of some
kind. He said he had made the tea, but had not any sugar; so I asked
some of the others.
“Now, don’t you say ‘Néma’ to me,” I said, before he had time to speak,
“but go and find some, because I know perfectly well you have got it.”
It is a Serbian peculiarity, which I had found out long ago, that
whenever you first ask for a thing they invariably say “Néma” (“There
isn’t any”). I have frequently been told that in a shop with the thing
lying there under my eyes, because the man was too lazy to get up and
get it. They thought it a great joke, and of course produced it, and
“Don’t say ‘Néma’ to me” became a sort of laughing byword amongst some
of the men afterwards whenever I asked for anything. They have a keen
sense of humour, and are always ready for a laugh and a joke, and
their gaiety and high spirits bubble up even under the most adverse
circumstances.
The rest of the Staff and I then made a fire in the other little room,
and sat there and played chess and auction bridge, and were making a
terrific noise over the latter, when the Commandant came back. If you
really want an amusing occupation, likely to give rise to any amount
of discussion and argument, try teaching auction bridge to three men
who have never seen it played before, in a language your knowledge of
which is so slight that you can only ask for the simplest things in
the fewest possible words. You’ll find the result is a very queer and
original game.
[Illustration: REINFORCEMENTS IN THE SNOW
Page 72]
[Illustration: AN EARLY START. PACKING UP
Page 84]
The next afternoon, it having at last stopped snowing, I walked over to
visit my old friends in the ambulance a couple of miles up the road,
and we sat by the camp fire and pored over the map of Albania, whither
we should soon be going, and discussed the war as usual. When I got
back about sunset I found the Commandant had gone to visit a company
who were camped about a mile and a half up the road, and his Adjutant
was waiting for me, as we thought it would be a good opportunity to
give away some of the warm woollen helmets while it was so cold.
Accordingly, followed by a couple of men carrying the wool helmets,
some cigarettes and a few pots of jam, we started for the camp. It
turned out to be the Fourth Company of the First Battalion, strange to
say, the very company that I afterwards joined, though I didn’t guess
that at the time. It was a most picturesque scene with the little
tents all crowded together, and dozens of big camp fires blazing in the
snow with soldiers sitting round them; they all seemed very cheery in
spite of the bitter cold. We had a great reception, the whole company
was lined up, and under the direction of their Company Commander I
gave every seventh man a white woollen helmet--unfortunately there
were not enough for each man to have one--and every man a couple of
cigarettes, and my orderly followed with half a dozen large pots of jam
and a spoon, the men opening their mouths like young starlings waiting
to be fed. This is a national custom in Serbia; directly you visit a
house your hostess brings in a tray with a pot of jam, glasses of
water and a dish with spoons on it. You eat a spoonful of jam, take a
drink of water, and put your spoon down on another dish provided for
that purpose. It is very amusing to see a stranger the first time this
is presented to him; he generally does not know what he is supposed to
do, or whether he is to dip the jam into the water, or _vice versa_,
and how many spoonfuls it would be polite to eat, Serbian jam being
extraordinarily good. One Englishman I knew wanted to go on eating
several spoonfuls, and I had gently but firmly to check him.
I was introduced to all the officers, and a great many of the men who
were pointed out to me as having done something very special. One of
the men was wearing an English medal for “distinguished conduct in
the field.” The men seemed awfully pleased with their little presents;
they never have anything in the way of luxury--no jam, sweets or
tobacco served out to them with their rations, no parcels or letters
from home (at this time), no concerts or amusements got up for their
benefit, none of the things that our Tommies hardly regard in the light
of luxuries, but necessities. No one who has not lived with them can
imagine how simply they live, how much they think of a very little, and
what a small thing it takes to please them. After that little ceremony
was over we sat round the officers’ camp fire and a young sergeant--a
student artist--played the flute very well indeed, and they sang some
of their national songs. It was all so friendly and fascinating that
we were very loath indeed to tear ourselves away, and I promised to
come back next day and take their photographs, but next day they were
not there, having been ordered off at dawn to hold some positions up on
the hills.
Among other sundry oddments in my luggage I had a box of chessmen and
a board, and as several of them could play we whiled away many weary
hours when we had nothing else to do playing chess. The Commandant
and I were very evenly matched, and we used to have some tremendous
battles, sometimes long after everyone else was asleep, and always kept
a careful record of who won. Some of the others were very keen on it
too, and those who were not playing would stand round and offer advice.
I used sometimes to think, as I listened to the sounds of hurried
packing up going on all round while we sat calmly playing chess, that
the Bulgars would walk in one day and capture the lot of us, chessboard
and all.
About 9 p.m. next night the Commandant gave the order to start, and we
walked the first mile, the horses being led behind, I suppose to get
used to the roads, which were one slippery sheet of ice. When we got
to Bitol, which was quite close, we went to the headquarters of the
Commandant of the division, and sat there till about midnight, while
he and our Commandant discussed matters. We met Dr. Nikotitch there
again, and he and Commandant Wasitch asked me if I really had made
up my mind to go on. They said the journey through Albania would be
very terrible, that nothing we had gone through so far was anything
approaching it, and that they would send me down to Salonica if I
liked. I was not quite sure whether having a woman with them might not
be more of an anxiety and nuisance to them than anything else, though
they knew I did not mind roughing it; and I asked them, if so, to tell
me quite frankly, and I would go down to Salonica that night. They were
awfully nice, though, and said that “for them it would be better if I
stopped, because it would encourage the soldiers, who already all knew
me, and to whose simple minds I represented, so to speak, the whole
of England.” The only thought that buoyed them up at that time, and
still does, was that England would never forsake them. So that settled
the matter, as I should have been awfully sorry if I had had to go
back, and I believe the fact that I went through with them did perhaps
sometimes help to encourage the soldiers.
We left there soon after midnight, and rode all night and most of the
next day. The Commandant and his Staff Captain drove in a wagon, the
same one that the Kid and I had driven in on the first night of the
retreat. They asked me whether I would rather come in the wagon with
them or ride, as the roads were simply terrible, but I elected to ride
and chance Diana going on her head, which she did not do, however, as
the Commandant, with his usual thoughtfulness, had had her roughed for
me a few days before. We rode very, very slowly, always through crowds
of soldiers, pack-horses and donkeys, halting about every hour at
little camp fires along the roadside made by our front guard, where we
sat and warmed our feet for about a quarter of an hour till the tired
soldiers could catch us up, there being frequent halts for them to rest
for a few minutes. I rode alongside the Adjutant and another officer,
and was very glad that my orderly had filled my thermos flask with hot
tea, with a good dash of cognac in it, which the three of us consumed
while riding along. The roads were really fearful, one solid sheet of
ice, and the Adjutant’s horse came down so often that eventually he had
to walk and lead it. Occasionally we all used to get down and walk for
a bit to warm our feet, which became like blocks of ice, but the going
was so hard that we were glad to mount again. I say “mount,” but in
reality, what between wearing a heavy fur coat and getting colder and
stiffer and wearier, it was more a sort of crawl up Diana’s side that
I did; fortunately she was a patient animal, and used to stand still.
It soothed my feelings to see that I was not the only one, several of
the others having nearly as much difficulty in mounting. They were all
so friendly, and I had more than one “Good luck to you” shouted after
me. It was not really such a hard ride as we had expected, though, as
stopping at the little camp fires and chatting with the men round them
made a nice break.
About daybreak we arrived at a hahn, where we found the ambulance
again, and the Commandant and the Captain got their horses there,
and we all walked, and later on rode, up and up a winding road, up a
mountain. It was bitterly cold, and every few yards we passed horrible
looking corpses of bullocks, donkeys and ponies, with the hides and
some of the flesh stripped from them; sometimes there were packs,
ammunition and rifles thrown away by the roadside, but very, very few
of the latter; a soldier is very far gone indeed before he will part
with that. Of course everywhere swarmed with spies, and we stopped a
man and a boy in civilian clothes carrying baskets; they protested that
they were going down to do some marketing or something of that sort,
but whatever it was they wanted to do they were told they could not do
it, and gently but firmly turned back.
At the very top we stopped at the ruins of a filthy little hut, where
a halt was called and the field telephone rigged up. We built a fire
outside--it was too dirty to go inside--under the wall, and had some
coffee, and tried, very unsuccessfully, to get out of the howling,
bitter wind. The soldiers sat about and rested, and we stayed there
until late in the afternoon. We were to spend the night at Resan, some
way down the other side, and about 3 o’clock the doctor said he was
going down there, and I might as well come down with him and look for
a room. Wily young man, he was petrified with cold himself and didn’t
like to say so, so had previously told the Staff Captain that _I_ was
cold and wanted to go into the town, and that, as I could not go by
myself, hadn’t he better escort me? He let this out afterwards, and
I was very indignant with him, but he was quite unabashed. He used to
love teasing me, calling me “Napoleon” because I rode a white horse,
and we were constantly sparring. My orderly, after a long search,
found me quite a decent little room in a house close to the Caserne,
where the staff were to be quartered. The family consisted of two old
ladies and a girl, who all fell on my neck and hugged me, rather to
my embarrassment. One of the old ladies explained volubly that she
had once had something--I never could quite make out whether it was a
husband or a cat--and had lost it, and I was now to take its place in
the family circle.
We all sat round the stove in my little room, which seemed quite a
luxurious palace to me now, and I made them real English tea with my
little tea-basket, and the poor old things seemed quite enchanted, as
they had neither tea nor sugar in the house, and they fussed over me,
and could not do enough for me.
The next morning I stayed in bed till nearly eight, and, after dressing
leisurely, went up to see the Commandant and staff, who said they had
begun to think they had lost me. About five o’clock my orderly came
in in a great state of excitement and wrath, declaring that he did
not know what to do with my things as the wagon had been taken for
something else, and that the Commandant and staff were all gone. He was
an excitable person, and used to get these panics occasionally, and,
as I knew perfectly well that whatever happened they would not leave me
behind, I told him not to be such an ass, but to go and get my horse
and I would go and find out for myself, as I could not get any sense
out of him. I happened to meet the Commandant in the street, and, as
I fully expected, we had supper quietly, and did not stir till 9 p.m.
We nearly always did ride at night. We left very quietly, and walked
the first bit of the way through the mud, and then rode up a beautiful
serpentine road, which had originally been made by the Turks, through
what looked as if it might be beautiful country if you could only see
it. All the way along there were soldiers and camp fires, which looked
so pretty twinkling all over the hills through the fir trees, and we
made frequent halts while the Commandant gave his orders.
I thought we were going to ride all night, and it was a pleasant
surprise when we turned off the road, and put our horses at a steep
muddy bit of mound at the top of which was an old block-house, one
of the many built by the Turks and dotted all over that part of the
country. The telephone was rigged up there, and it was full of officers
and soldiers; the ground all round was a perfect sea of mud, and there
were soldiers everywhere. I had not the faintest idea whether we were
going to stop there half an hour or for the rest of the night, and I
don’t suppose anybody else had either, except, perhaps, the Commandant.
I sat by the stove for some time, and finally lay down on the floor
on some straw that looked not quite so dirty as the rest, though that
is not saying much, but when I woke up some hours later I got the
impression that I had strayed into a new version of the Black Hole
of Calcutta. The whole floor was absolutely covered so thickly with
sleeping men that you could not put your feet down without treading on
them. I counted up to twenty-nine and then gave it up because I saw
several more come in afterwards, though where they managed to wedge
themselves in I do not know. The Commandant had left the telephone and
was sleeping peacefully among the others; the only person awake was a
very big, good-looking gendarme, who was keeping the stove stoked up,
although it was already suffocatingly hot. The Serbians laugh at me
because I declare that they always pick their gendarmes for their good
looks; they are certainly a magnificent set of men. This one inquired
if I wanted anything, as soon as he saw that I was awake, and I asked
him if he would fetch me my thermos flask full of tea, which he would
find in Diana’s saddle-bag. He had never seen a thermos flask before,
and when he brought it back and I shared the tea with him he was
perfectly thunderstruck to find it still hot. He couldn’t make it out
at all, and seemed to think that in some extraordinary way Diana must
have had something to do with it, and I shouldn’t be surprised if next
day he put a bottle of tea in his own saddle-bag to see if his horse
would be equally clever.
About 5 a.m., while it was still dark, I woke up again so boiling hot
that I could not stand it any longer, and crawled out cautiously over
the sleeping men, treading on a good many, I am afraid, though they did
not seem to object, and took a walk round; but, as it was raining and
the mud appalling, I did not stay outside long. There was one camp fire
still going, and what I took to be a large bundle covered over with
a sack beside it. Here’s luck, I thought, something to sit on beside
the fire, and down I plumped, but got up again quickly when it gave
a protesting grunt and a heave, and I found I had sat down on a man.
After that I sat on a tin can in the cold passage for some time and
waited for daybreak.