( Originally Published 1923 )
Some reflections Armenian prisoners The building The new Commander Salah-a-din A letter My answer -- Outside assistance Another letter The surprise The search Its result Deprived of all literature Salah-a-din's kindness Visit of Headquarters Staff Officer Order for our march to the coast -- Our preparations Lieutenant Hairie Our lack of resources Obtain credit from the 'jobmaster' Our departure Ilija 'George's' lameness The hovel at Pernikapan The Khop Trebizond Our good treatment there
The bare fact itself brought home to me, with a bitterness which I am powerless to describe, the immensity of the fall which the prestige of my country had suffered through the vacillating weakness of those into whose hands the custody of that priceless national heritage had fallen since the proud days, a short twenty-eight months before, when our armies were everywhere victorious and the British uniform commanded respect throughout every country in the world.
I well knew, and had been brought up to be familiar with, the unremitting care and labour by which, during three centuries, the standing and credit of the British Flag had been built up throughout the East. Names of great men, for ever famous among my countrymen, flashed through my mind, who had devoted their life's work to this supreme object, and bitter thoughts surged up insistently as to what would have been the penalties exacted in days gone by for such an insult, which was probably destined now to be suppressed or ignored, or if, indeed, any reparation were demanded, its exaction would be confided to the futile efforts of Greeks or Armenians -- sad champions indeed to uphold the prestige of the British Army.
The above may seem very bitter reflections, but no one could know better, or feel more deeply than I did, how the news of our imprisonment would run through every bazaar throughout the East, and how this defiance of the British by the Turks would be magnified and used for their own purposes by our enemies. In the feelings of sadness which then were mine there was never any thought as to what our own fate might be, but only an abiding sorrow that our great country should be made to appear so cheap and powerless in the eyes of ignorant Oriental populations.
On leaving our old quarters we first saw 'Armenian prisoners'. Those we saw were being used as labourers (slaves would be the proper word), and accustomed as I had become to see starvation, misery, and privations of every description, yet the appearance of these men gave me, even at that time, a shock such as I had never before experienced, and a memory which will remain with me whilst life lasts. It was then midwinter, the snow everywhere lying deep, the force and temperature of the arctic wind being beyond description; yet those miserable spectres were clothed, if that word can be applied to their condition, in the rottenest and filthiest of verminous rags, through which their fleshless bones protruded in many places, so that it seemed impossible that humanity could be reduced to such extremities and live. In fact, the duration of their tragic misery depended only upon the individual vitality, which enabled some, possibly the least fortunate, to continue to exist longer than others, to whom death brought a speedier relief from their sufferings.
On arrival at the prison I was relieved to find that, though now used as such, it was originally a barrack, and was in very fair condition. A building of two floors faced the street, with an archway communicating with a yard in the interior, the east side of which consisted of a most ancient and interesting old mosque, now used for military stores. Along the north side ran a one-storied building, also used as stores, whilst on the west side was a two-storied building, with barred windows without glass, in which the Armenian officers were confined.
The ground floor of the main building, which occupied the south side of the courtyard, was used for the guards, and on the first floor was a corridor out of which opened four rooms on the south side and five on the north side. My three men were allotted one of these rooms and myself another, both on the north side, upon which the sun never shone. These rooms were fairly clean and had windows in which there were remains of glass. We were, however, allowed. to bring from our house whatever we possessed, and the men were furnished with soldiers' beds, whilst I retained my camp-bed; and we were able presently to obtain a stove for each room and occasional wood for fuel, a most vital necessity, as the temperature fell constantly below zero.
Here, on the first morning of my arrival, I was visited by the new Commander of the fortress, a Lieut.-Colonel Emin Bey, whom I had previously known when he commanded a brigade on the frontier. He was quite civil, and, I should say, an efficient officer. His predecessor, to whose neglect of supervision our previous sufferings were directly due, had now, as it appeared, been deprived of his command, to which fact we owed our transfer to the prison, where supervision of the treatment accorded to us, could be effectively exercised by the new Commander.
On the whole, we were better off in prison than we had been at our house, for although we were confined to our rooms and sadly missed the backyard where we had been able to take exercise, yet this was largely compensated for by the fact that an officer was in charge of the prison and resident in the room opposite my own, to whom I was always at liberty to complain, and upon whose personality much depended. At the time of our arrival at the prison the officer in charge was a lieutenant named Salah-a-din, with whom I got on very well, and who. was very friendly and visited me in my room almost every day. I was indebted to him for many favours, and I did my best to teach him some English, which he was very anxious to learn. He remained charge for six weeks after our arrival.
At this time I was reduced to the greatest straits for money, my reserve having nearly disappeared, and, as I was supplied with no rations, I was reduced to selling what little I had in order to buy food. In this matter the good-will of the officer Salah-a-din stood me in good stead, as he bought my fur coat from me himself, and saw to it that my other things were honestly sold in the town, and that we were not robbed unduly by the soldiers who were deputed to effect purchases for us. He also enabled us to purchase a small amount of wood for fuel, which was very difficult to obtain and was a matter of vital importance to our existence.
A fortnight or so after our arrival at the prison our officer obtained authority to permit one of my men to go daily to the market, accompanied by a guard, and thus we were able to economize still further by purchasing only what happened to be cheapest in the market at the moment. One day, about February 20th, the first 'event' of our prison life occurred. On one of my men bringing me the purchases effected in the town, he gave me a short note which had been pushed into his hand in the market, and on opening it I found it was from someone whom I did not know, but who was evidently an Armenian, who asked if he could do anything to assist us.
Here was a development indeed, and one which caused me many hours of anxious deliberation. Naturally, I feared that this might be a manoeuvre on the part of the Turks to entrap me into some move which would enable them to connect me with one of the Armenian plots which were constantly being discovered, in which case our situation would be infinitely worse than it was already. This seemed the more likely, as at that time, although in entire ignorance of what might be happening in Europe, I had for some time past 'sensed' a distinctly more unfriendly attitude towards us on the part of our gaolers. It was not, therefore, till after many hours' anxious thought that I finally decided to answer the letter at all, and even then only in a very guarded manner, saying that I was much interested in what he said, and asking him to communicate any proposition which he might desire to make.
This apparently reached its destination safely, as shortly after-wards I received a more elaborate epistle, which was handed to Corporal Ankers by an individual who seemed to be a Turk. This letter was signed in a name I did not know, and asked me definitely what the writer could do to assist in or prepare for an attempt at our escape. I therefore wrote to say it would be necessary to purchase horses, by degrees, as if getting together a caravan, and that as soon as the snow rendered any passage of the mountains possible we could arrange further details. I was, however, careful not to disclose in which direction I thought of escaping.
The letter was the more interesting as my correspondent told me the bearer was absolutely to be trusted and had access to the prison at all times; also that one of our guards had been suborned and could be trusted, as he was in reality an Armenian. I was also told I could recognize this soldier at any time by the fact that he would have a piece of paper protruding out of a certain pocket. I was at this time allowed to go occasionally to my men's cell, which was two doors away from mine, a sentry with loaded rifle and fixed bayonet being always on duty day and night, outside my door in the corridor, to watch all my movements. Each time I now went into the corridor I saw a Turkish soldier lounging about, with the above described piece of paper protruding from his pocket. I therefore began to have more faith in my unknown correspondent outside and in the possibility of making use of his assistance.
Matters were in this state on February 26th, when, soon after midday, Ankers came to me and handed me another letter. This was still from my unknown friend, by the hand of the gentleman who had access to the prison, and to the effect that he had already begun to purchase horses, and that he was located at a certain village about ten miles off, across the plain. It then went on to say that all his family had been massacred by the Turks, and that he himself wished to 'drink the blood of the Turks', and also to establish Bolshevik committees and every other kind of horror all over the country. This gave me a terrible shock, as not only was it the most damnable and impossible non-sense, which did not interest me at all, but it was at the same time the most dangerous form of statement to commit to writing which it was possible to conceive, and the life of anyone having anything to do with it would not have been worth a moment's purchase if the Turks once got possession of such an excessively compromising document.
I was actually reading this most murderous and dangerous effusion before my window, fourteen feet exactly from the door of my cell, when the said door burst suddenly open and in marched the second-in-command of the fortress, a Major Avni Bey, accompanied by three other officers, and I became at the same time aware that an armed guard of at least twenty-five men, with fixed bayonets, was drawn up in the corridor outside. I wheeled round instantly, and as I turned slipped the letter into my breeches pocket, where it at once seemed to burn like a red-hot coal. Nevertheless, with suitable politeness and unconcern, I said good morning and asked to what fortunate event I was indebted for the pleasure of his unexpected visit. This very polite speech contained one absolute truth namely, the unexpected nature of the visit, as it was indeed at that moment as unexpected as it was undesirable and unfortunate.
He replied that they had received information from Angora that I had sent a telegram to London (!), which had caused their Government great annoyance, and that orders had been received that all my papers were to be taken from me, and that I was not to be allowed to retain any books or writing materials in future, and also that my cell and myself were to be thoroughly searched forthwith.
Under these circumstances it may easily be imagined that the hot coal in my breeches pocket appeared to me to actually burst into flame. However, I retained what the sensational writers are pleased, as a rule, to refer to as the most perfect 'sang-froid', and that at a moment when such a condition was most vitally necessary. During the few moments spent in going over the papers on my table, I was busy cudgelling my brains to devise a means whereby it might be possible for one man, surrounded by so many eager eyes all fixed upon him the whole time, to use his intelligence to such good purpose as to outwit so many observers. Upon the apparently impossible achievement of that feat all our lives were probably at that moment depending, as, for an absolute certainty, in any case, depended the life of our friend then waiting in the village ten miles off to 'drink the blood of the Turk', and also that of his emissary in the passage outside, with regard to both of whom the blood-drinking process appeared likely to be infallibly and immediately reversed.
That being the position, I determined to do my best and to make use of what wits I had for all they were worth. I therefore proceeded to show them all my papers, including my diary, which I had carefully kept since the day of our arrest, and explained each paper to them with the utmost candour. This being concluded, L produced my portmanteau, which contained the greater part of my very meagre kit, saying they would doubtless wish to examine everything in it. On their assenting, I opened the portmanteau, and took my seat in a rickety old chair, which had once been covered in velvet, now hanging in tatters, the seat being furnished with springs, some of which still remained under the remnants of the velvet, and with the position of each and all of which I was thoroughly familiar. Sitting thus, sideways to the door, through which the guard outside were also observing me closely, I proceeded to take out each article of kit and to hold it up for their examination, passing it afterwards round all the four officers for their inspection also, after which it was placed on the floor beyond the portmanteau.
We soon came to my new tunic, which I was keeping against the happy day of my eventual release, and, as I expected and reckoned on, the appearance of this interesting and essentially military garment produced considerable curiosity on the part of all present, so that I was called upon to explain all the marks of rank, the respectable collection of chevrons, and particularly why one only was red and the rest blue; also as to the why and where-fore of all the ribbons, etc. During this time, as each point was explained, the interest grew, and when we came to the decorations, to each of which I pointed with my finger, I felt pretty sure I had all their attention fixed on those objects, and I profited by that moment to slip the letter, or rather the blazing coal, out of my breeches pocket, jamming it instantly, whilst all eyes were fixed on the tunic, under a familiar protruding spring in the chair, under the tattered cover. That manoeuvre having been success-fully accomplished unobserved, I experienced a deep sense of relief, for, although I felt certain the chair was destined also to be thoroughly examined, yet a part, and that probably the most difficult, of my task had been triumphantly achieved. Before the examination of the portmanteau was complete, I found occasion to leave the chair and sit on the floor, apparently with the object of being in a better position to show them the construction of the trunk itself.
This completed, I went up to the Major and said I supposed he would be bound, according to his orders, to search me also, and on his answering, 'Certainly', I commenced at once to undress, handing him for inspection each article as I took it off, and finally remaining in my vest only, and nearly frozen. As soon as the articles of my humble attire had been thoroughly examined,
I lost no time in getting into them again, seating myself in my faithful relic of a chair for the purpose; and as soon as that hurried operation was complete, I pushed away the portmanteau and replaced it by my kit-bag, with the examination of which we then proceeded.
The articles here were of less interest. I had, however, reckoned upon my spurs in this instance to come to my assistance, for I had a pair of silver-plated spurs, which are quite unknown in Anatolia, and these had two peculiarities: first, they were furnished with silver-plated chains in place of straps, and, secondly, they were what we called 'dummies', there being no rowels, nor even the usual slits provided to carry those rather barbarous contrivances.
I was in no sense mistaken in my estimate of the Turk and the interest he would take in these very European articles, for when I took out the first one and showed the silver chains, I was overwhelmed with questions about them, and when I handed them to the Major for him to examine, every eye followed them, whilst I took advantage of that instant to withdraw my 'coal' of a letter from under the spring of the chair and to restore it once more to my pocket unobserved, as soon as possible afterwards taking up a position near the window, where the officers were busy packing up all my papers, books, etc., for removal, to answer the many questions which they asked about them. That operation concluded, they then turned their attention to the little furniture I had, and the poor old chair suffered a very drastic search, from which it never afterwards recovered, a matter of no consequence, however, seeing that it had already rendered a service more valuable to us than fifty such chairs could ever have been, even when new and in immaculate condition.
Soon after the search-party's departure, I received a visit from my men, all in a state of the greatest anxiety, as they knew, of course, I had received the letter, without knowing the dangerous nature of its contents, and they knew also that I could have had neither the time nor the means to destroy it. They therefore feared the worst, and could hardly believe me when I told them the story of how a little of that 'sang-froid' already mentioned had enabled me to get the better of so many keenly watching eyes, under such apparently impossible conditions.
It was, however, a sad day indeed for us, and particularly for me. The others, being together, could talk and enjoy the benefit of each other's society, taking it also in turns to accompany our food-purchaser to the market; but for myself, I was rigorously con-fined to my cell and had no such means of passing the time, and had also lost many personal papers and records, quite irreplaceable, so that it needed indeed a stiff upper lip to keep up one's heart in the dreadful solitude that ensued. Everything had been taken from me, even to my steel mechanic's 'rule', from which I had taken the scale dimensions to make the drawings of my model yacht; but the model itself and the drawings of it had, thanks to the intervention of my good friend Salah-a-din, been left to me. For this I was indeed grateful, and I commenced forthwith the construction of a new scale on a piece of stick, taking the dimensions from the drawings of the yacht, as from this scale I was determined at once to commence to design and construct a model of a house, which might some day be of service, and would at any rate serve to occupy my mind and to enable me to fight against the terrible mental trial which I knew now confronted me, and which in so many instances has proved fatal to the reason of those unfortunate individuals who have been subjected to solitary confinement.
On the morning of March 24th I received a visit from Emin Bey, the Commander of the fortress and district, who informed me I was to be sent to the coast at Trebizond for exchange against certain prisoners then at Malta, amongst whom was Rιouf Bey, Mustapha Kemal's great friend and the leader of the Nationalist Party in the Parliament which had assembled at Constantinople a year previously. This glorious news, in my then sadly weak and feeble condition, affected me so deeply that several long minutes passed before I was able to utter one word. As soon as I was able to speak, I proceeded to inquire as to how it was in-tended that we should travel, as the snow lay deep, and March and April are, of all the months in the year, probably the worst in which to take the road in those parts, as the sun begins to have more power at that time of the year, thawing the surface of the snow in the daytime sufficiently to make the use of sleighs impossible, except on the higher passes, and at the same time causing all torrents to run in flood, and avalanches and other unpleasant incidents, such as constant and heavy falls of rock, to be frequent amongst the mountains.
I was told that we should march under charge of an officer and an escort of six soldiers, who would accompany us all the way, and that two arabas (small native carts) would be provided for the party, and that the journey would be accomplished in ten days, supplementary guards being provided by the local gendarmerie where risky conditions might render them necessary. Having given me this outline of what was intended, the Governor left me, saying we should start on the 28th namely, in four days' time.
On his departure, my first proceeding was, of course, to communicate the news at once to the men, and I therefore staggered up the corridor to their room. On opening their door, I had no need to say anything at all, for one glance at my face told them all that I was finding it so physically difficult to convey to them, and we all then sat for some time in silence, our feelings all round being too deep for words. After a while, however, we 'bucked up' a bit, and began to discuss what preparations it was possible and necessary for us to make for a journey that could not fail to be a terribly severe one.
We realized immediately that, as only two small arabas were to be provided for the whole party, they would at most contain only the men's kits and forage which would be required for the mules, the latter being necessarily a considerable amount, as none would be obtainable on the road. If by chance there should be any room left, it would obviously be our Turkish guards who would ride, and we should have to walk. This, in our then weak condition, I felt sure we should be unable to do. For though the men lately had each of them been able to walk as far as the bazaar for purchases, once every three days as their turn came round, I had not been out of my cell for two months, and for ten and a half months previously had not been out-side the walls of our house; so that a 20o miles march through the snow in four days' time would be, for me at any rate, an absolute impossibility. I was likewise at last literally at the end of my resources as regards ready money, and it would be necessary to buy food on the journey, or we should be in danger of starvation.
Under these circumstances we went through everything we had, to see what remained for us to sell, to enable us to do our best in the way of preparations. There was, alas! lamentably little left, and what we had were only little humble things, such as metal mugs and plates, a small lamp, and various trifles, which though valuable to us, were of pitifully small value in the market. We had, however, a few blankets, some puttees, and some odds and ends which we packed up, and which I decided to get Salah-a-din to have sold for us at once.
A short while afterwards our friend himself returned, full of sympathetic congratulations on our prospect of release, and I explained to him exactly how we stood and all I feared for the journey. He then made the suggestion that he should apply to the arabaji (jobmaster) of the town, to see whether he could not obtain a conveyance for me from him on credit, payable on our arrival at Trebizond. This was the more likely, as the man was in a large way of business and, of course, knew me well. Salah-a-din therefore went off at once to the town to fetch this interesting individual. He brought the man back with him shortly afterwards, and he agreed without difficulty to let me have what he called a 'victoria', as well as a large four-horse araba, for the journey, on my undertaking to pay him 150 Turkish pounds (equal then to about k i 7) on my arrival at Trebizond. This I immediately agreed to, and wrote out and signed and sealed the necessary undertaking.
Salah-a-din then brought along the officer who was to go in charge of us, a transport lieutenant named Hairie, and a capital fellow in every way, certainly one of the nicest Turks it has been my lot to meet, and a man whom I should be glad to see again at any time. He (Hairie) fell in at once with our suggestion, which, of course, could only be carried out with his approval and consent, and it was agreed that he and I should ride in the victoria, and the men and their belongings in the large four-horse araba. I then sold my very last treasure, a small carpet I had 'hung on to' and slept on all the time, as a last resource in case of urgent necessity. It was a very good one, worth, under ordinary conditions, at least 150 Turkish pounds in Erzeroum, but I was glad indeed to get 37 for it when submitted to auction in the open market, under Salah-a-din's supervision.
The thirty-seven Turkish pounds received, amounting, as they did, -to about k4, enabled me to buy certain provisions and to keep a small sum over to pay for accommodation on the road, as, of course, none would be provided for us, and sleeping in the snow would probably have finished us, even if the other hardships of the journey did not. All being at last ready, we left Erzeroum at 3 p.m. on March 28th, to go eight miles to the village of Ilija that night.
The victoria turned out to be a vehicle quite beyond adequate description. It had once, indeed, been a kind of open victoria, but by dint of traversing the unspeakably rough roads of this terrible country under excessive loads the ironwork forming the floor of the carriage, and connecting the front portion with the back axle, had gradually given way and become bent, so that the back was at an angle which made it only possible to sit in the seat when leaning forward, an excessively uncomfortable and tiring position. When to this was added the astonishingly cramped amount of space originally allowed for in its design, it will be readily understood that it was far from providing any kind of luxury as a conveyance over 200 miles of the roughest roads in winter.
The road in the plain of Erzeroum was so bad and the snow so deep that it took us two and a half hours to do the eight miles to Ilija, although we had three horses to our light conveyance, which threatened every moment to fall to pieces on the way. Our poor old faithful 'George', also, who had never left me in the prison, and whose loving sympathy had served on countless occasions to cheer and encourage me during the long and bitter nights, was obliged to follow afoot through the frozen snow, with the result that his poor feet were cut to pieces, though he came on steadily without a falter, even when lame in every leg and bleeding from all his feet.
On arrival at Ilija we found what, for Anatolia, was quite good accommodation, as there are hot springs there which have for centuries been used as sulphur-baths, and therefore certain unusual comforts are provided there for visitors. We obtained a small room with a stove, which we lit, and after attending to poor 'George's' feet as best we could, we made some tea and ate some of the rolls we had made at Erzeroum for our journey, and so were soon asleep and warm again, having all been nearly frozen.
Next morning we started at 8 a.m., and reached the village of Pirnikapan at the entrance to the Khop Pass, in the dark at 6 p.m., quite worn out, wet through from the snowdrifts, and frozen with cold. Here we found no accommodation at all, as, though there was one miserable caravanserai, it was crowded, every square inch of it, with the low-class Persian camel-drivers of the caravans waiting there at that time to get over the pass. Hairie, however, was equal to the occasion, and, mustering his soldiers, he at once burst open the door of the reeking hovel, proceeding subsequently by main force to eject the occupants until he had cleared enough space for us within its forbidding recesses. This we occupied at once, and we were even able, as we were famished with hunger, to eat some more of our rolls, in spite of the nauseating atmosphere.
Much though I have travelled in rough places, I have never, either before or since, had to pass a night amongst such surroundings as we there experienced. When free, it has always been my custom to bivouac in the open, whatever may be the state of the weather, sooner than seek refuge in any of these pestilential underground hovels. This time we were unavoidably 'in for it', and the best had therefore to be made of it. The hovel itself was under-ground and was, of course, without windows, the roof, not more than six to seven feet high, being made of the trunks of trees, and the whole covered with several feet of earth and many feet of snow. The solitary room, if such it can be called, of which the hovel consisted was about twenty by thirty feet, an unusually spacious apartment, it is true, in that country. This was due to the fact that it afforded the only accommodation in the place, and that the village itself was situated on the main road at the foot of the pass, where travellers are perforce obliged frequently to halt for considerable periods whilst the pass above is blocked by snow.
Out of this fearsome cavity Hairie and his soldiers had already flung at least twenty stinking Persians, though when we entered there were at least twice as many more remaining, packed close together in their foul and steaming sheepskins, a small and smoky lamp serving barely to illumine the clouds of smoke which rose from the fire of tezek (dried cow-dung) which burnt and stank m a brazier in the centre. This most objectionable odour was, however, entirely overpowered by the natural effluvia which rose from the recumbent Persians, who alone remained motionless in that horrible place, where all else was literally 'moving' with every species of verminous life. All this caused me such nausea that it was thanks only to the emptiness of my stomach that I escaped, by the barest margin, the fate which attends bad sailors in a storm at sea. Like everything else, however, the night eventually passed, though I feel convinced the recollection of it will remain with us all for ever. Our guards were moving before day-light next morning, and, the horses having been fed, we were on our way up the pass before 8 a.m., truly thankful at last to be able to breathe the pure fresh mountain air, however cold it might be.
I have described the Khop Pass before, and will not, there-fore, depict it again, beyond saying that never have I had to pass it under worse conditions, the drifts being so deep that our progress was lamentably slow, for on many occasions the carts had to be held upright by hand, to prevent their turning over and rolling down the hill-side, an unpleasant experience which is by no means uncommon, and which one vehicle did actually succeed in affording us on this occasion.
Conditions were much better beyond the pass, and we reached Baiburt after dark, securing there a small but dry room, with a fire, and also obtaining the, to us, most unusual luxury of a hot dinner from the restaurant in the town with what was almost the last of my ready money.
We were now all suffering from the effects of the wind on the Khop Pass two days previously, which had been this time colder than ever, and, accompanied as it was by a bright sun, had burned us all so severely that our faces were no longer sensitive to the touch, and began shortly to peel wherever the skin had been exposed to the wind and sun. I was thankful on this occasion for my thick beard, which left only my nose and cheeks exposed and so saved me much of the suffering which the men went through.
'Left 5.30 a.m. Hell of a day over our waists in snow horses down carts overturned icy wind temperature below zero. Arrived Hamsikeui (18 miles) 7.30 p.m., all dead-beat, having covered eighteen miles in fourteen hours.'
In Trebizond our treatment was entirely different from any we had yet experienced, as we were given good furnished quarters in a fort by the sea-shore, one room being provided for the men and another for myself; and we were permitted to purchase our food from the restaurant and to go to the Turkish bath. A doctor also was provided for me, as I was in a sadly weak state, and the Turks did not like the look of me as a prospective 'released prisoner' in Constantinople. I was also allowed to visit the Ottoman Bank, with an officer. The manager there immediately cashed my draft on the Command Paymaster at Constantinople, so that we were able to pay the jobmaster and also to procure ourselves some clothes, of which we stood sadly in need, as well as many of the little luxuries of civilization to which we had long been strangers.
Under these comparatively pleasant circumstances, we proceeded to endeavour to recover our health as quickly as might be possible, whilst waiting for news of our exchange, which we understood then to be imminent.
Adventures In The Near East:
The Russo-turkish Frontier-trouble Brewing
The Russo-turkish Frontier - Kurds And Armenians
Turkish Armistice A Fiasco Foundation Of The Nationalist Party
In Kemalist Turkey (november, 1919, To November, 1921)
London And Constantinople
Anatolia In Winter
Erzeroum In 1920
Exchange And Home
Read More Articles About: Adventures In The Near East