THE CRIMEA AND HOME
At dawn on the fourth day, September 25th, the land was very clear and
we could see a lofty headland which ran steeply down to the sea. An hour
or two later, we could make out houses and then it became clear that we
were approaching some seaside resort. All through the previous two days,
after we had taken charge of the steering, the akhardash had continually
inquired whether the "road" was "good" and they were now more than
satisfied that we knew the best way over the sea. Fortune had been with
us, in giving us fine weather and clear skies by day and night;
otherwise we might have reached a very different destination. Rowing on
steadily, it was soon clear that the place was quite extensive and
probably much frequented. Several large buildings could be seen and
something which looked like a pier or jetty, to which we now steered. It
was not until one o'clock that we finally reached this spot and landed,
to find ourselves opposite the baths.
For days we had talked of the delights of a good hot bath and now we had
come straight to the very place. We were met by a Swiss who was bathing.
He hurried off to dress, but before he could return we were accosted by
several other people, notably a retired Russian general and an American
diplomat who lent us clothes and escorted us to the baths. After getting
really clean once more, we were taken to a _pension_ and made the guests
of the hospitable Russian ladies to whom it belonged. They told us the
place was called Alupka and was one of the most popular seaside places
in Russia. Meanwhile the akhardash had been escorted into the town. In
the morning they had begun to don their bandoliers and handle their
rifles, but we persuaded them that they would be looked upon in a more
friendly manner on landing if they abandoned these weapons.
[Illustration: ALUPKA]
It had taken us 78 hours to cross the 180 miles of sea, but actually we
must have sailed well over 200 miles. We found that, comparing our
position on the third morning with the spot we had marked on the map, we
were only some twenty miles out, which, as amateur navigators, we
considered quite good work.
At the _pension_ we were given lunch, and wine was produced in our
honour by our new friends. We shall never forget their kindness, and the
extraordinary feeling of being amongst all the amenities of civilization
once more after two years under other conditions. In the afternoon, we
were taken to the municipal office and there interviewed by a very
business-like and intelligent lady who seemed to combine the duties of
commissioner of police and most other municipal departments. Our friends
told us that there was some difficulty in establishing our identity,
since the commandant of the town--who a few months earlier before the
Revolution had been an actor--was very suspicious and inclined to
believe we were really Germans. In fact, some splendid stories were
going about. According to one, a boat-load of Turks under the command of
three German officers had attacked the town, one of the Germans being
wounded. Tip had been to see a doctor and this no doubt lent colour to
the idea. At all events, the commandant told off a sentry to shadow us
about wherever we went.
The akhardash, we found, had been accommodated in the central police
building, where they had been given plenty of food and seemed to be
receiving visitors. We bought them some fruit and tried to cheer them
up, as they had imagined they would be received with triumphal
rejoicings and were somewhat crestfallen at being treated more like
prisoners. Our first object was to get in touch with the nearest British
consul, so as to put their case before him and get matters explained to
the Russian authorities; but no one seemed to know where the nearest
consul was to be found. We got telegrams sent off to our people at home
addressed to the Embassy at Petrograd. It was hopeless at this time to
try to get private telegrams through, and for mails from home we found
they were even worse off here than we had been in Kastamuni. It was
strange, indeed, being in a spick and span town, with well made roads
and everything clean and up-to-date, after the filthy dilapidation which
characterizes everything in connection with the Turk.
[Illustration: THE ALUPKA BATHS]
Some people we met seemed rather annoyed that we had not struck a mine,
as they assured us there was a large minefield through which we had
passed. We discovered, later, this was quite wrong, but in any case our
boat was of much too shallow draft to be in much danger. Others told us
that we were fortunate to land where we did, as had we gone a little
further east we should have come to the estates of some of the Grand
Dukes who at that time were interned under armed guards, with orders to
prevent anyone approaching from land or sea! We were told that every one
was on rations and that food was getting scarce. One of the most
striking contrasts to Turkey was the magnificent fruit on sale, grapes,
pears and peaches, all evidently cultivated with great skill.
As we emerged from our interview with the lady commissioner, we were
summoned to halt in order to be cinematographed by the representatives
of some Moscow firm. All the educated people we met in Russia were
kindness itself to us and made our journey through the country very
pleasant. It was pathetic to be asked, as we were, to tell people in
England that not every one in Russia is bad and worthless. All classes,
we found, had welcomed the Revolution when it started, thinking a new
and brighter era had dawned; but it very soon became clear that the
pendulum was swinging much too far in the other direction, and no one
would dare to prophesy what might happen next. Fortunately for us, there
was no actual internal fighting taking place at the time and we got
through the country without trouble.
The following day we left Alupka by motor for Yalta, a port a little
further east. The road led past some of the Grand Dukes' estates and
Livadia, the Tsar's Crimean palace. The scenery all along was
magnificent, the pine-clad hillsides sloping steeply down to the blue,
with white houses or palaces. Yalta itself was one of the most charming
spots it had been our good fortune to see, and is easily equal in beauty
to any of the Riviera resorts. From here we were to travel by night by a
transport back past Alupka, reaching Sevastopol on the following
morning, but before leaving a surprise was in store for us. As we had
some time to wait, we went into an hotel, with the officer conducting
us, for tea. This, however, we found was the headquarters of the local
committee of soldiers and workmen, and a few minutes later we were asked
to go into their meeting hall to receive their congratulations. This
promised to be rather awkward, as we knew no word of Russian; but
fortunately a schoolmaster who knew French was introduced to us. As we
entered the room, the soldiers and sailors present all clapped
vigorously. There were about 30 or 40 present and it was necessary, as
on every possible occasion in Russia, to shake hands all round. The
schoolmaster then gave a harrowing account of our imprisonment in
Turkey and told them how we had eventually escaped and reached Russia.
He appeared to say that we had been manacled in chains and endured the
worst possible fortune as prisoners. After a suitable expression of
thanks conveyed through the schoolmaster, we shook hands again all round
and returned to our tea. This was our only actual meeting with a
revolutionary committee, and we are bound to say they seemed to have no
love for the Turk or any wish to leave their Allies in the lurch by
concluding a separate peace.
[Illustration: YALTA]
The transports steamed only at night and kept close into the coast for
fear of possible submarines; so that the chances of our being picked up
by one on our way over had been very remote.
The akhardash travelled with us to Sevastopol, and on arrival there we
met the British Naval Representative, Commander Sage, R.N., who looked
after us for the next few days. As he spoke Russian fluently and was in
touch with all the highest authorities, we had no trouble of any sort.
The akhardash were handed over to the Russian Staff authorities, who
provided them with good quarters on a ship in the harbour. We three
lived with Commander Sage on an auxiliary cruiser, the _Almaz_, which
had previously been used as a private yacht by the Grand Dukes. The
akhardash had for some time wished that we should all be photographed
together and we, too, were anxious to have such mementoes of our time
with them. The Russian Staff very kindly arranged it and we had two
groups taken, one with our original rescuers with their rifles and
bandoliers, and one with all the others included. Unfortunately Keor,
the old Armenian, was ill in hospital and could not be present. As some
days had elapsed before the photos were taken, our friends had obtained
new clothing and hats and, therefore, did not present the picturesque
appearance to which we had become accustomed. As regards some recompense
for all their services, we could not get them to accept anything more
than what they had spent on our food during all the time we were with
them, but the Russians paid them the exact sum they had given for the
boat, so that they were not out of pocket on that account. As souvenirs,
they had given us each one of their long Caucasian daggers, and we in
return got wrist watches for them and a suitably inscribed cigarette
case for Bihgar Bey. We left them in good hands and have often wondered
since what has been their fortune. No men could have acted more pluckily
in rescuing us in the first place, or taken more trouble over our
comfort and welfare during the weeks we spent with them in the hills and
woods; and never shall we forget how much we owe them.
[Illustration: THE THREE OFFICERS AND THREE OF THEIR RESCUERS]
After some days in Sevastopol, we said good-bye to them and went round
to Odessa on the _Almaz_, where we made arrangements with the British
consul for our journey home. At Odessa we were entertained at a most
convivial dinner by the British and American Club. Like all dinners in
Russia, it proved prolific in speeches, a start being made with the
King's health, in the middle of the fish course, by an enthusiastic
American. From these speeches we learnt how whole-heartedly the great
American nation had entered the struggle and the efforts they were
making in Russia, more especially with regard to improving the railways.
Coming out of the obscurity of Turkey, these things were new to us,
although by reading between the lines of the Turkish papers we had been
able to get a fair idea of the general position on the actual battle
fronts. Another speaker told a pitiful story of the position in Rumania
and of the appalling lack of medical stores and awful ravages of disease
in the Army. A visit to the races and opera helped to pass two very
enjoyable days before saying good-bye to Commander Sage and our new
friends, and leaving for Mogileff, the then headquarters on the Russian
front to which we had been summoned by the British Mission.
On our way we passed through Kieff, a magnificent town, peopled very
largely by Poles. Here we met some forlorn British gunners who did not
know what was to be their fate, but were soon, I trust, back in England.
After a day in Mogileff we went on to Petrograd. Travelling even at this
time was very comfortable on the Russian lines, for those with passes
such as we possessed, except for the temperature of the carriages. In
some it was impossible to open any window. The result was that we all
got heavy colds, although during the past six weeks we had kept fit
while sleeping out in the open and occasionally getting soaked through.
Petrograd was cold, wet, and dreary, and we spent our time in rushing
about between the various departments before we could get passports and
tickets through to Bergen. We, eventually, accomplished this by hard
work in three days, and were then told we were fortunate not to have
been kept at it for a week. It was necessary to borrow mufti to travel
through Sweden and Norway. Clothes in Russia were practically
unobtainable, but, fortunately for us, two naval officers at the
Embassy came to our rescue by most generously giving us the necessary
garments. We were also indebted to the Red Cross Depot at the Embassy
for other assistance in the way of clothes.
[Illustration: THE THREE OFFICERS AND THE AKHARDASH]
Tip and I left on October 14th, and after an interesting trip through
Sweden and Norway reached Aberdeen ten days later.
K., on the other hand, returned to the Black Sea. It had been hoped, and
we had done our best to arrange, that an attempt should be made with the
assistance of the akhardash to release some of the other officers at
Kastamuni. Unfortunately this plan never materialized: for one thing our
friends were moved further inland from Kastamuni before any attempt
could be made, and when everything was settled on our side the Bolshevik
rising had commenced and brought all plans to a standstill. K. reached
England two months later, after having made a trip over to the Turkish
coast in a Russian destroyer, and worked in every conceivable way to
bring off the scheme for the rescue of the other officers. His
persistent but unsuccessful efforts bring the account of our adventures
to a close.