Part 5 (1/2)
We were allowed a fair amount of liberty, although at the start things did not look promising, the old commandant telling us we should be only able to go one short walk a week. Actually we were allowed in the road for a hundred yards or so outside our houses and could go to the bazaar or Turkish bath any day by getting a sentry to go with us.
The Hamams, or Turkish baths, of which there are a great many, are not the elaborately furnished places one sees at home, but consist of two vaulted chambers, supplied with vapour. Round the side are ledges on which one sits, and stone basins with a supply of hot and cold water. After being stewed in the hottest chamber for a quarter of an hour, one pa.s.ses out to the outer room, where an aged attendant is generally ready to operate with buckets of cold water. Next one proceeds to the dressing-rooms and reclines comfortably swathed in towels, while Turkish coffee is brought round. After the first few months, sugar became so expensive that it was no longer provided, and the coffee seemed very poor in consequence. Altogether, in a place where one had plenty of time to spare, the Hamam provided a very pleasant way of spending a morning.
The Turks used to put up numbers of rules for our benefit. These were written out in the best English the interpreter could achieve, which was never very clear. As a rule, we did not pay very much attention to them, and they, on the other hand, never seemed to care either. The rule was on the board, and, if any officious officer was to come round from Constantinople, he could always be shown it, and a.s.sured it was strictly obeyed.
On one occasion a notice was suddenly put up, informing us that all lights henceforth must be put out at 9.30 p.m. It was thought advisable to do so the first night; the second night, the time was about 9.45; and after that we continued to go to bed when we pleased, and were never bothered any more about it.
Owing to the tremendously high price of kerosine, Daylight Saving soon came into force, and saved us a great deal.
The sentries, on the whole, were a very good-natured lot and would never have worried us with restrictions as far as they themselves were concerned. They were mostly old men who had served in previous wars and, until called up, were living on their own small farms. One of the best of them was ”Johnnie Walker,” a little man who had a most extraordinary stride and could walk any of us to a standstill. We always tried to get him when going for a long walk, knowing that from personal motives he would never stop us going a good distance. Another favourite was ”Ginger,” a very harmless old fellow with sandy whiskers. As one went past, he would lean over and whisper confidentially: ”Ginger fennah?”-Is Ginger a bad fellow? Every now and then they went to their homes on leave and came back with a few pounds of b.u.t.ter or a bag of wheatmeal, which they sold to us without much difficulty.
On our arrival, the only weapons the guard possessed were ancient pinfire rifles, firing a huge lump of lead. Each man had exactly two rounds in his possession. Later on some rather younger men came, armed with captured Russian rifles.
We soon managed to hire a field for football. It was very stony and by no means level, but, nevertheless, was a great acquisition. As a rule, each group of houses used it three days a week. To start with, we only had a Soccer case and no bladder. We stuffed the case with gra.s.s and played a very modified form of Rugger, where collaring was disallowed on account of the stones, and punting and place kicking forbidden in order to preserve the life of the ball. After some weeks we got some proper footb.a.l.l.s from Constantinople, and others came eventually from home. We played matches against the other group of houses, Regulars v. Irregulars, and every other thing we could think of. Soccer Sixes caused much excitement and a local firm of bookmakers, who came into existence for the occasion, did a large business.
We could always rely on getting out somewhere every day. During the early summer we had splendid walks two days a week over the hills in the mornings. These long walks did not suit everybody, and a gentle form of meandering had to be organized for the ”slugs.” On one celebrated occasion, we walked out about five miles, taking our lunch, and had a very cheery picnic, but this was never allowed again, and in July 1917 all long walks were suddenly stopped, and we were barely allowed outside the boundaries of the town.
For news of the outer world, we were dependent upon the local telegrams, which the best Turkish scholars used to translate, and also upon the ”Hilal,” a German-run paper, printed in Constantinople. This paper, of which we used to receive the French Edition, had been started for propaganda purposes at the beginning of the war. The news was, naturally, very one-sided, but, reading between the lines, one could tell fairly well what was the position on the Western Front. In addition, we had maps, and could follow the places mentioned, when, as during the Somme offensive, the Germans, ”according to our preconceived plan,” took up a position some miles in rear of their last. A serial story which ran for some time in this paper was called ”L'evade de Tsingtau,” and gave the adventures of a German, who having escaped from Tsingtau after the j.a.panese had taken it, reached America, was caught while trying to cross to Germany, spent some time in Donnington Hall, but finally succeeded in escaping, and swam off from near Tilbury to a Dutch s.h.i.+p lying in the river, thus getting clear away. Whether true or not, it made a wonderful story.
News carefully camouflaged in our letters from home invariably arrived safely; in fact, the Turks never troubled to censor anything in the letters we received. On the other hand, every now and then some officious creature in Constantinople would systematically cut up our long letters, which we were allowed to write twice a month, and only send on the first two and last two lines.
There were always plenty of rumours amongst the Greek shopkeepers in the bazaar. For instance, we were told the British had taken Bagdad long before they did, and our troops in Palestine were always said to be within three or four marches of Aleppo; the Russians were just outside Sivas, and Trieste had been taken by the Italians. The Turks themselves never believed these stories, and, in fact, even when the armistice was signed, many of them in country districts had not heard that Bagdad was in our possession. They received no letters from their friends at the front, no casualty lists were published, and the only news that seemed to reach them by post was a few letters from Turks we had taken to Burma as prisoners, who seemed to be very happy and contented.
The country people never showed any ”hate” against us, but the authorities used to make this an excuse for curtailing our walks, saying how fanatical the village people were in the neighbourhood.
Apart from football matches, we employed ourselves in various ways. There were soon two or three well-established firms of carpenters, who did a great deal of work and made a lot of furniture. Others took to cobbling, and had plenty to do to keep our boots in order. A good many studied various languages, but Turkish was not very popular, as no one expected ever to want it again when once they had left the country.
We had quite a good library, and books came through without much trouble in parcels from home.
A long series of lectures were held during the winter, every one who could do so lecturing to the rest of us. It is wonderful what a comprehensive programme can be formed when one is really put to it.
Another intellectual effort was a debating society; but this did not have a very long life.
Our greatest achievement was undoubtedly the band. This was started in the spring of 1917, under the auspices of our new commandant, who was very keen about it. At first there were only two or three violins which had been discovered in the bazaar, then others were found, also some clarionets; drums and banjos were soon made, and, finally-greatest triumph of all-two 'cellos and a double ba.s.s were manufactured by our most progressive firm of carpenters. Altogether, the band numbered about sixteen. At the start they had no music, and Lieut. Parsons, R.F.A., who conducted, had to score the parts for a number of pieces, most of which were wonderfully successful. Later on, music came from home, and concerts were given twice a week.
We even had a little dancing on one or two occasions, and one day the commandant brought two or three Greek and Armenian ladies. This was such a success that he became very excited and declared ”Next veek plenty lady kom.” Life seemed to be improving all round, but it was too good to last, and suddenly everything was stopped. The commandant got into hot water with the other Turkish authorities in the town, who had probably reported him behind his back to Constantinople. Our walks were suddenly curtailed and no long walks allowed. Had the little man been able to stand up for himself, things would have been much better, but he was much too scared to take a strong line, and a few days later departed for Eski-Chehir to take the place of the commandant there, who, in turn, was to come to Kastamuni.
During the winter of 1916, prices began to rise rapidly in the bazaar and this went on all through 1917, until in 1918 all prisoners had great difficulty in getting food, even in the new camps, which were said to be better off in this respect than Kastamuni.
When we first arrived, there was a small amount of silver money in circulation, the smallest notes which were just being introduced being 20 and 5 piastres-3s. 4d. and 10d. in ordinary times. Not long afterwards, these were followed by 2 and 1 piastre notes, which carried pictures of the Dardanelles and Kut on the back, Kut being quite unrecognizable. For smaller change recourse had to be taken to stamps and by midsummer of 1917 no coins of any sort were to be seen.
Money came through to us in various ways, but the best exchange we could get was by cas.h.i.+ng undated cheques with the Greek shopkeepers in the town, who gave us 160 piastres to the pound, whereas through the Dutch Emba.s.sy we could only get 140, the exchange rate before the war being 112. The shopkeepers would not be able to cash these cheques till the end of the war, and it says something for the reputation of a British cheque that they would accept them on such conditions. They undoubtedly regarded such cheques as being a very much safer a.s.set than the Turkish paper money, which was the only alternative, and, at the end of the war, would very likely be suddenly repudiated by a paternal Government.
We were paid by the Turks at the rate they pay their own officers, the equivalent of this being deducted from our accounts by the War Office.
On the way up from Kut we were given one month's pay in Bagdad, which for senior officers was on a comparatively generous scale. However, on reaching Kastamuni, these unfortunates were told that the Bagdad rates were quite wrong, and they were now to pay up the difference; this took several months in many cases.
Happily for us, soon after our arrival, the Red Cross came to our a.s.sistance, working through the American Emba.s.sy in Constantinople. They gave us T.3 a month, which, with a subaltern's allowance of T.7 as pay from the Turks, made it just possible to carry on.