IN WHICH THE SPOOK PERSUADES MOÏSE TO VOLUNTEER FOR
ACTIVE SERVICE
The telegram from Kemal Pasha, ordering us to be sent to Constantinople,
arrived on the 16th April. The prisoners from Changri, bringing with
them the Interpreter who was to take the place of the Pimple, reached
Yozgad on the 24th. Hill and I left for Angora on the 26th.
The Spook explained that though we would probably read AAA’s thoughts
and discover the position of the third clue as soon as we got to
Constantinople, it was essential for our safety that the Constantinople
specialists should, for a time, think us slightly deranged and in need
of a course of treatment. Therefore it behoved Moïse to endeavour to
bring this about by reporting to the Constantinople authorities the
things which the Spook would tell him to report, and learning his lesson
carefully.
“What will happen to the mediums,” the Pimple asked, “if the specialists
do not think them slightly deranged?”
“Jail, _mon petit cheri chou_!” said the Spook. “Jail for malingering,
and they will not return to Yozgad to continue our experiments. You must
play your part.”
The Pimple’s part, the Spook explained, was to observe and note
carefully everything the mediums said and did. At the request of the
Spook, as soon as the Yozgad doctors had declared us mad, the Commandant
publicly ordered Moïse to make notes of our behaviour, for the benefit
of the doctors at the Haidar Pasha hospital. The Spook declared that
from now on the mediums would be kept “under control” so as to appear
mad, for control being a species of hypnotism the oftener we were placed
in that condition the easier it would be for the Spook to impose its
will on us in Constantinople to deceive the specialists. Thus, while the
Turks thought the Spook was practising on us, making us appear mad, we
were really practising our madness on the Turks. Doc. O’Farrell visited
us every day. The Turks thought he too was “under control” and that he
was puzzled by our symptoms. In point of fact he was coaching us very
carefully in what things were fit and proper for a “melancholic” and “a
furious” to do and say, for we had decided to adhere to the two distinct
types of madness diagnosed by the Yozgad doctors. What he secretly
taught us each morning, the Spook made us do “under control” each
evening, when it was duly noted down by the Pimple. These notes were
revised and corrected by the Spook at regular intervals. In this way we
piled up a goodly store of evidence as to our insanity.
Every evening, after the rest of the camp had been locked up, we held
séances, and at every séance the poor Pimple was put through his lesson.
Over and over again he was made to recite to the spook-board what he had
to say to the Constantinople doctors. It made a strange picture: Moïse,
leaning over the piece of tin that was his Delphic oracle, told his tale
as he would tell it at Haidar Pasha. His face used to be lined with
anxiety lest he should go wrong and incur the wrath of the Unknown. Hill
and I, pale and thin with starvation, and the strain of our long
deception, sat motionless (and, as Moïse thought, unconscious), with our
fingers resting on the glass and every sense strained to detect the
slightest error in the Pimple’s story or in his tone or manner of
telling it. And when the mistakes came (as to begin with they did with
some frequency), the glass would bang out the Spook’s wrath with every
sign of anger and there would follow the trembling apologies and
stammered emendations of the unhappy Interpreter. Hill and I had got
beyond the stage of wanting to laugh, for we were working now at our
last hope. It was absolutely essential that the Pimple’s story should be
without flaw.
In order to minimize the chance of error, the Spook expounded to the
Pimple every bit of medical lore which Doc. O’Farrell had imparted to
us, for he was less likely to go wrong if he knew what the doctors were
driving at in their questions. Indeed, there were only three points on
which we kept him in ignorance. These were (i) that there was no Spook
and we were not “under control” but acting; (ii) that O’Farrell was
helping us, and (iii) that our object was “exchange” and not “treasure.”
The Spook warned him that it would be much harder to hoodwink the
Constantinople doctors than it had been to deceive the local men.
“_Entre nous_,” it said, “O’Farrell and the doctors here know nothing
about mental diseases. To deceive Major Osman and Captain Suhbi Fahri I
made the mediums behave in the way an ignorant man thinks lunatics
behave. But when we are up against the Constantinople doctors, and
especially the Germans, it will be a different business. You will be
surprised, _mon vieux_. My method will be to make the mediums appear
quite sane to the lay eye, but they will have little lapses and little
mannerisms which the specialists will note.” The Spook “controlled” us
in turn to show Moïse what he meant by “mannerisms.” It first made Hill
sit with a vacant stare of his face, twiddling his thumbs and pleating
and unpleating the edge of his coat. Then it threw me into a trance
where I picked imaginary threads and hairs off my own clothes or the
clothes of the person I happened to be talking to, and twisted a button
ceaselessly between finger and thumb.
“All that,” the Spook explained to Moïse, “appears quite sane to you.
You will not recognize in it a sign of madness, nor should you put it
down in your notes, but a doctor who knows his job will remark it at
once. If he asks you, ‘Have you noticed that before?’ be sure to say,
‘Oh yes, he is _always_ doing that!’ in a tone as if you did not know
what was behind the question, or that such action had any significance.”
Again, as to the Pimple’s _manner_ of telling his story, the Spook was
very emphatic. “I want you to tell your story in such a way that you
will appear not to know what is important. You might begin by saying you
do not know what the doctors want to know about. Let _them_ question
you, as far as possible. Don’t recite it like a set piece, but get them
interested. Speak so as to entice questions. Now, one word of
explanation and warning: you will find that the mediums will deny a
great many things you say they have done. That will be understood by the
doctors as a madman’s cunning, and at the same time it will prove that
you and the Commandant are not in league with the mediums. So do not be
alarmed by their denials.”
One thing worried Moïse greatly, and at length he ventured to ask the
board, “Won’t they think it funny that two officers go mad at the same
time?”
“Yes,” said the Spook, “they will. If you say they ‘went mad at the same
time’ it will spoil everything. I have never said they went mad at the
same time.”
“That is true, Sir,” Moïse agreed, “but what am I to think?”
“They were _discovered_ to be mad at the same time by the Yozgad
doctors, but the important point is that for the last two years they
have been gradually going mad quite _separately_ and _independently_. It
was the fact of their being regarded as peculiar by the other officers
that threw them together, combined with their common interest in
spiritualism and telepathy. What you should say is that, looking back in
the light of what you have since learned from the doctors, it is your
belief that the mediums have _always_ been mad ever since you knew them,
and you cannot account for their peculiarities in any other way.
Recently their madness became more pronounced, which caused the
Commandant to call in medical advice. This is why their _past history_
is so important. Do you see?”
“Yes, Sir,” said Moïse meekly.
When at last by dint of ceaseless tuition Moïse had thoroughly grasped
the situation, and the nature of the story he was to tell, the Spook
held an examination and asked every conceivable question we and
O’Farrell thought the Constantinople doctors might set. Moïse passed the
test with great credit; and we felt we were ready for the road.
In addition to teaching the Pimple, the Spook had a good deal of
“cleaning up” to do. We wanted to leave our comrades as comfortably off
as possible. Many officers had been complaining of the non-arrival of
remittances from England, and we suspected that a good deal of the
missing money had stuck to the palms of the Commandant on the way
between Post Office and camp. By sheer good luck the Commandant asked
the Spook whom he should send to the Post Office for the money whilst
Moïse had gone. He complained that he could not trust any of the other
officials to bring it to him. The Spook advised him to send a British
officer from the camp, along with any one of the Turkish officials.
Whether or not this was done after our departure we do not know.
The camp was crowded, and would be still more crowded when the Changri
men arrived. We had long since decided to get more house-room for our
comrades. Across the road were two small houses which we had planned to
add to the camp. The fact that one of them was inhabited by the witch
who read the cards for Kiazim in hours of stress merely made us
additionally keen. For we objected to rivals. The Spook, therefore,
turned her out of the house just before the Changri people arrived, and
Hill and I went into it. The second house was already empty. The
Commandant agreed to hand over these two houses to the camp after we
were gone, but Colonel Maule, being ignorant of our plans, nearly
spoiled everything by arranging for the disposal of the Changri
prisoners in the accommodation already at his command. Kiazim at once
converted the second house into a guard-room for the sentries, and it
took a good deal of diplomacy to make him promise to hand over the one
we were in to our fellow-prisoners. However, we managed it.
We felt something ought to be done to Kiazim as a punishment for his
cowardice over the affair of X. The Spook therefore informed him that
the time had come for him to go “on diet,” and although we did not
reduce his food to our own starvation rations, we gave him a pretty thin
time. Whether on account of this, or for some other reason, Kiazim had a
recurrence of his biliary colic. He asked the Spook for a remedy—indeed,
he suspected the Spook of bringing on the attack! In reply the Spook
offered to call up the shade of Lord Lister for a consultation. The
Commandant was so delighted with Lister’s advice, that we felt much
tempted to make the Spook demand a hundred guinea fee.
The Commandant’s wife had been boasting round Yozgad of a coming access
of wealth, and this in spite of a previous warning by the Spook. Kiazim
was therefore made to give her a thoroughly good scolding, and forbidden
to speak to her for a fortnight.
Then there was the Cook. Orders had come from Constantinople to
demobilize men of 50 years and over. The Cook fell within that class,
but the Commandant was unwilling to “demob.” him without the permission
of the Spook. After some delay, the Spook graciously granted permission
to Kiazim to free the Cook from all military duties, but insisted that
he should continue to attend to the domestic wants of the mediums. For
this both the Cook and the Commandant thanked the Spook, while Hill and
I listened with grave faces.
A matter which rankled a little was that the Commandant was still in
possession of the two Turkish gold liras, which we had dug up with the
clues. The Spook accordingly ordered a hacksaw and a small vice. These
were borrowed by the Turks from a goldsmith in the town. The Spook then
made Hill cut each coin into three equal parts, and gave Hill and myself
the parts of the coins bearing the dates, while the Cook and Pimple each
got a section, and the remaining two portions went to the Commandant,
one for himself and one for his wife. “These portions,” said the Spook,
“bind you all together in my brotherhood, to be faithful and true to my
behests. That is one function. The other function is to deceive AAA; for
these are the exact duplicates of the original tokens. You must wear
these tokens as the originals were worn—round your necks. I prefer not
to explain yet how they will be used to deceive AAA, because that is
still a long way off, but you must always wear the tokens to be ready.”
The Turks readily obeyed, and so far as I know they are still wearing
their tokens. They did not realize our object. It was to render
comparatively useless the only thing of value the Spook had
“discovered,” and at the same time to provide us with an additional
proof of Kiazim’s confederacy with us. Should the occasion arise for us
to denounce him it would cause him some trouble to explain how we all
came to be wearing portions of the same coin if we were not in some sort
of league together.
The Pimple was justly unpopular with the camp. Everybody knew he took
toll of our parcels before they were delivered to us, and in addition to
his thieving he had an objectionable habit of coming round the
recipients of parcels after delivery, and begging here some tea and
there some chocolate, and so on. It was unwise to refuse, because if you
did he would see to it that the next package of books that arrived would
be sent back to Constantinople for re-censoring, and books were very
precious to us prisoners. Had he chosen he could have done much to
render our imprisonment less irksome, but he knew he was top dog for the
time being, and took advantage of his position.
The Spook therefore set about permanently ridding the camp of their pet
aversion, and it did so by fanning the flame of ambition that was
consuming the poor fool. “You are wasting time in Yozgad,” it said;
“nothing comes to him who does not ask. You are clever! Strike out for
your betterment. Throw modesty to the winds.” (Heaven knows he had
little to spare!) “You are a good lad. Make other people realize it. Do
not stagnate in Yozgad while great careers are being made elsewhere. Why
don’t you try to get to the heart of things?” (Moïse pleaded the cost of
living at Constantinople, and the Spook went on): “A crust of bread
where there are big men to watch you earn it is better than rich meats
in a wilderness. I am taking you to Constantinople. I have arranged for
a man in your place here. Mind you stay there.”
Moïse thanked the Spook warmly for its advice and begged for
instructions as to how he could stay at the capital. He was ordered on
arrival at Constantinople to go to the War Office, say he knew Turkey
was being hard pressed by its enemies and demand to be sent to the
fighting line. This, the Spook assured him, would obtain him his
commission. The unhappy Pimple was horror-struck at the idea of having
to fight, but the Spook promised that he would be quite safe, and as
soon as he got to Constantinople the little ass did as we desired. The
Turkish War Office was so astonished at obtaining a volunteer at this
stage in the war that they gave him a commission straight off, granted
him a month’s leave to wind up his affairs and then clapped him into the
officers’ training school, where he was fed on skilly and drilled for
eight hours a day. He utilized his first afternoon off duty to come to
me in the mad ward of Haidar Pasha hospital, where he literally wept out
his sufferings into my unsympathetic ear and implored the Spook to get
him better treatment. The Spook reminded him he had offered to share the
starvation of the mediums and informed him that he was now “doing his
bit,” and it is fair to the Pimple to record that when he heard the
verdict he dried his tears, held his head high, and announced that he
was proud to do his duty by our great cause; henceforward, he said, he
would endure the torments of bad food, bad lodging and hard physical
exercise without a moan. He never complained again, but he sometimes
referred with regret to the luxuries of his old post at Yozgad,—and we
felt the camp was avenged.
One other thing we did for the camp. On the 24th the Changri prisoners
arrived. We knew from the Turks that the reason for their coming to
Yozgad was their refusal to give parole not to escape. Several of
them—Le Patourel, Lowndes, Anderson, Johnstone, and Cochrane (of “_450
Miles to Freedom_” fame) came to see us and told us that practically the
whole party intended to escape. We were invited to join but our
transport was already ordered by the Spook and it was too late to alter
our plans had we wished it. Then we learned from the Pimple that the
Changri Commandant (who accompanied the new prisoners to Yozgad) had
warned Kiazim that they were a set of desperate characters who were
undoubtedly planning to escape. Kiazim had therefore made up his mind to
lock up the camp again under the conditions which had prevailed when we
first arrived at Yozgad; but before doing so he wished to consult the
Spook. Would we grant him one last séance before leaving Yozgad?
We did. Our last séance in Yozgad was held on the night of the 24th
April, 1918, and almost the last question with which the Spook dealt (I
quote the record) was:
“The Commandant presents his compliments to the Control and wishes to
know if any of the Changri prisoners have the idea of escaping.”
“Certainly,” was the reply. “Every man would escape if he thought it
possible, but Yozgad is as nearly impossible as any place can be, and
they are not fools. Their opinion is that escape is too difficult to
justify them in bringing the rest into trouble.”
The Spook went on to point out that the more hours out of every
twenty-four the camp was on parole the less time would there be for
escape; for this reason alone it was advisable to grant as many _extra_
liberties as possible to those who were willing to give parole not to
escape while actually enjoying these extra liberties. The Commandant
might be perfectly confident that every such parole would be kept. But
if close confinement were again imposed there would _certainly_ be
escapes.
“Let the Sup. tell them they are welcome to try to escape except when on
‘extra liberties,’ but they have been warned of what will happen to the
rest. I do not say _nobody_ will try, but it is most unlikely,
_especially if they are kept contented_.”
Just before we left Yozgad we learned (from Le Patourel, if I remember
right) that the escape was planned for early June—six weeks ahead. The
Spook immediately sent word to the Commandant that it _guaranteed_ there
would be no escape or attempt to escape for at least _three months_ from
the date of our departure from Yozgad. This gave the Changri men a free
hand until the 26th July, by which date we felt sure they would have
made the attempt.[46]
It is of course impossible to say what would have happened had Kiazim
been left to his own resources. This much is certain: on the morning of
the 24th April he intended to keep the whole camp, and especially the
Changri men, in very strict confinement. On the morning of the 25th
April, the day after the séance, when he called to bid us farewell, and
brought us a basket of sweet biscuits for the journey, made by his
wife’s own hands, he told us he would follow the Spook’s advice and keep
the prisoners as contented as possible. I learn from the book I have
just quoted that he kept his promise, and after we left Yozgad the camp
was better off in the matter of facilities for exercise than it had ever
been in our time. Two days a week there was hunting, once a week a
picnic to the pine-woods, and, on the remaining four days, walks; also
access to the bazaar was easier to obtain. We can justly claim that the
“Black Sheep” of Yozgad brought no harm to the rest of the flock.
-----
Footnote 31:
The greyhounds were expensive—about £T20 each, I believe.
Footnote 32:
Spink was the originator of ski-ing in Yozgad, and to his tact in
dealing with the Commandant the credit of the Ski Club is due.
Footnote 33:
Really because time was getting short and we must soon face the
doctors.
Footnote 34:
The curious will find a description in _“450 Miles to Freedom_.”
Footnote 35:
This, we believe, is the first instance in modern times of
correspondence between a spook and a Government office.
Footnote 36:
A most unfortunate explanation, as events proved.
Footnote 37:
The telegram was dispatched from Constantinople on March 29th and
reached Yozgad on the afternoon of April 1st. It was in cipher, and
read as follows: “With reference to your letter of March 18th, 1334”
(_i.e._, the report of the trial dictated by the Spook) “the two
officers who have been communicating with the townspeople should be
released from imprisonment, and their punishment should be to stop
them writing letters to their relations for one month.”
Footnote 38:
See our previous arrangement with O’Farrell, p. 118.
Footnote 39:
Pure water is useful on a voyage to Cyprus.
Footnote 40:
See p. 188.
Footnote 41:
Acting under the Spook’s order, Moïse had previously cross-examined
Doc. O’Farrell, who, by agreement with us, had shown confusion and
hesitation when asked if he thought we were mad, and had finally
denied our insanity.
Footnote 42:
Of course no such letters were ever written. Moïse was willing to lie
as much as the Spook wanted.
Footnote 43:
We had to provide against the danger of independent enquiry by the
doctors amongst our fellow-prisoners. Therefore, wherever possible, we
distorted _facts_ so that enquiry, if made, would reveal as a basis
for our delusions some incident which had really occurred and which
had (apparently) been misunderstood by us. Thus, in the present
instance, Colbeck _did_ threaten (jokingly, of course) to take us out
by force when we refused his invitation to tea.
Footnote 44:
He did—a friendly visit to support Colbeck’s invitation to tea. At
this visit he gave me permission to say what I liked about him to the
Turks. I used it freely to name him as my principal “_persecutor_” and
my “_would-be murderer_.”
Footnote 45:
This was founded on fact. The Turkish officials who were unpacking my
parcel said waterproof sheets were _“yessack”_ (forbidden), and seized
it for their own use. A tug-of-war developed between me and the Cook
for possession of the sheet, and when the officer in charge ordered me
to surrender it, and showed signs of joining in the struggle, I cut it
into ribbons to render it valueless to our enemies. This was in the
early days, before the treasure-hunt began.
Footnote 46:
In point of fact, they did not get away until the night of August
7th-8th, and at the end of July, when the Spook’s guarantee expired,
the plotters got a bad fright. The authors of “_450 Miles to Freedom_”
say: “Unfortunately the Turks also appeared to have got wind of it
(_i.e._, the intention to escape). For the last week of July, sentries
were visited and awakened with unheard-of frequency. Even the
Commandant himself occasionally visited the different houses after
dark. In the case of one house an extra sentry was suddenly posted in
the garden.” The intention to escape was really known to the Turks
from the moment the Changri men arrived at Yozgad. Moïse informed me
at Constantinople that the tunnel at Changri had been discovered and
reported after our departure from Yozgad. I believe the sudden
activity which alarmed our friends in July was due to the expiry of
our guarantee. Hill and I apologize for not making the period four
months—we did our best!