Kingdoms Fall - The Laxenburg Message (19 page)

“And have you a number of British and French
troops in mind?”

“Two Divisions” said Danglis.

“That’s all?” Wilkins asked in shock.

“It will be adequate.”

“And what will King Constantine do?”

“He will not send the army and provoke civil
war. Otherwise there is little he can do,” said Politis. “We will say the
British and French have landed without consent on a humanitarian mission to
assist the Serbian refugees. There will be many refugees before long.”

“I understand what you are saying, and I will
do my best to explain it to my superiors.”

“There is another matter,” said Venizelos.
“Gentleman, please excuse me for a moment so I may speak to the Captain
privately.” He stood and walked with Wilkins into the next car and they entered
Wilkins’ compartment.

“Captain, I have not previously mentioned your
British colleague whom I met in Athens to my associates, nor do I intend to do
so. But there is another matter on which you and he may be of assistance to
your government and to me.”

“Yes, I would be pleased to hear it, sir,”
Wilkins agreed.

“We expect that very quickly the Austrians and
Bulgarians will advance through Serbia and stand at the border with Greece. We
have considered what must happen when such a disaster befalls the Serbian
people. The government must flee the country before they are captured and
forced to sign any treaties. The King and his son, the Prince Regent, must flee
the country before they are captured and forced to abdicate. And if the
Serbians are ever to recover their homeland, their army must not be captured
and forced to surrender.

There are many among the King Constantine’s
retinue who hold great antipathy for the Slavs and who would see the Serbians
utterly destroyed. Colonel Metaxas is such a man, and he is very ambitious.
However, the men you just met and I can offer our personal assurance that both
the Serbian government and its armies will have the friendship and support of
Greece for as long as Serbia is occupied by hostile forces. We want the Serbian
army to be able to fight in Serbia, and if it must retreat now, we want to
ensure that it can return to fight another day. Now we know that Serbia’s King
Peter and Prime Minister Pashitch and his government are prepared to depart
Belgrade, but they are resistant to all thoughts of retreat. I fear the country
will soon be in chaos, and then someone will have to find them and convince
them to evacuate along with the Serbian army and its commanders before any of
them are captured.”

“I see.”

“We will find a place for them in Greece. I do
not know where, but we will find a place for them where they will be outside of
King Constantine’s reach – one of our islands perhaps – and we will make
arrangements with the British and French to transport and supply them there.”

“Yes, sir. A dangerous game you are playing, if
I may say so.”

“On the contrary, I have every confidence that
the Entente will win this war in the end, even if Greece loses its King in the
process. But, Captain, we must be absolutely certain that King Peter and his
government and his army are prepared to retreat. The army simply must be preserved
to fight another day, perhaps when Great Britain and France have realized how
much they have lost by foolishly sacrificing Serbia. I must ask you: Will you
and your colleague go to Serbia and find them, speak with them and, if need be,
convince them to retreat?”

“I understand your concerns, and if it is
within our ability to do so, you may rest assured that my commanders will have
us do as you ask.”

           
Miss Sandes was waiting in the lobby when Gresham came down to meet her the
next morning. As was usual for her, she wore rugged pants with high leather
boots and a canvas motoring jacket. Gresham could easily imagine her in the
trenches aiding the wounded, which she appeared prepared to do at any moment.

           
“Good morning, Captain,” she said. “I have found two more of our delegation interested
in joining our tour today, if you have no objection.”

           
“Of course I have none, Miss Sandes. Were you able to sleep at all last night?
There seemed to be a large number of drunken men wandering through the halls.”

           
“Truthfully, I was rather frightened. I have my own revolver I brought from
England, and I kept it rather close by my side last night. But at last sleep
overcame my fears, and I am well-rested this morning. Shall we join our company
in the lounge?”

           
Sandes led Gresham into the lounge where they found the older doctor, Griffith,
drinking tea with a very pleasant-looking young woman.

           
“Ah, Captain, there you are,” said Griffith, standing. “Allow me to introduce
you to our other nurse volunteer, Miss Reta Häberlin.”

           
“Miss Häberlin, a pleasure,” said Gresham. As the nurse turned to greet
Gresham, he saw a lovely young woman, close to his own age, with extremely
short and ruffled blond hair, a charming smile and bright hazel eyes. Unlike
Sandes, Häberlin wore a pleasingly tight tan dress that accented her slight
curves and generous chest. She wore wool stockings and leather shoes that
showed off her slim legs and small feet.

           
“For me as well, Captain Gresham,” said Häberlin with a distinct German accent.

           
“Forgive me,’ said Gresham, “but are you German?”

           
“Miss Häberlin is from Switzerland, Captain,” said Griffith.

           
“Oh, of course,” said Gresham. “Please forgive my ignorant question.”

           
“I understand completely, Captain,” said Häberlin. “I come from a small village
called Zermatt, not far from Geneva. But I have been in Serbia for two years
now with the Red Cross.”

           
“How ever did you end up in the British Red Cross?”

           
“I have been with the Swiss Red Cross in Prishtina until two weeks ago. My
delegation was recalled, but I have decided to stay and join the British
delegation to continue my work.”

           
“I must tell you how impressed I am with you and Miss Sandes for your
dedication and courage,” said Gresham.

           
“You have not been to Zermatt, Captain. It is a very small village far up in
the Alps: Very boring.”

           
“Shall we make our way to the Ayia Sofia,” said Sandes with enthusiasm.

           
Sandes led the small party single file through the crowded streets of Salonika.
Gresham took up the rear, which gave him the opportunity to speak further with
Miss Häberlin. They walked side by side, and she had a way of looking David
boldly in his eyes that he liked. She was direct, un-bashful, and
self-confident.

           
“I have never seen the Alps, Miss Häberlin. Are they very beautiful?”

           
“Yes, indeed the mountains are truly majestic. In the summer, many people come
to see. In the winter, it is terribly quiet. There is no train station in
Zermatt so no one comes in the winter. As a little girl I had to learn to ski
just to get to church.”

           
“That must have been exciting. Do the skis go very fast?”

           
“As fast as you let them. Of course at first I was very nervous, but in time I
learned you must go very fast to get away from all the bears.”

           
“Bears?”

           
“No, no, I am teasing you. I doubt there are any bears still alive in
Die
Schweiz
. But the skis, that is so. It is very exciting to go fast on the
skis, and it is quite easy to learn. But Zermatt is a little place and there is
no more to tell. Where are you from, Captain?”

           
“I’m from the city of Manchester, Miss.”

           
“Ah, yes, very many factories I have heard. A very dirty place, yes?”

           
“Yes, I’m afraid it is; at least, the parts I knew.”

           
“You are not a fancy rich snooty Englishman?”

           
“No, I rather think not.”

           
“Good. I like you better then,” said Häberlin. Her eyes sparkled and she smiled
at Gresham in a way that caused his heart to pound and his tongue to stick in
his mouth. He could only smile back. Fortunately, they arrived just then at the
Ayia Sofia. It was a fairly square, squat church of yellow stone with a medium
round dome on top. Gresham was at a loss to see why anyone would want to visit
it, yet since he had suggested the tour he did his best to marvel at the
design.

           
Inside, they met the sacristan who happily told them in broken English about
the Byzantine history of the church, its use as a mosque by the Ottomans, and
its recent renovations. In the center, they looked up at the millennium-old
mosaics in the dome. “These show the Ascension,” he said, “with Christ in
center, Virgin Mary and Apostles.” Gresham realized he had crossed himself
again. Here in the church, more than a thousand years before, men had created
the mosaics to show their devotion to Christ. Not even the Ottomans who for so
long occupied Salonika had dared to desecrate their work; regardless of one’s
religion, the work stood as a memorial to those men and a marker of the power
of faith.

But when those men made the mosaics, Gresham
wondered skeptically, were they truly motivated by their love of God, or did
they see their work only as their pathway to immortality, perhaps even to
sainthood?

After a thorough examination of all the mosaics
and frescoes in the church, Gresham and the others headed outside to find a
café for lunch. Gresham was enjoying the company of Miss Häberlin, and even
Griffith had proven to be good company. After a simple meal of bread, grapes
and cheese, Miss Sandes next led the party to view the White Tower, the old
Venetian fortress used by the Ottomans as a prison. It was in terrible
condition, and there was little to see apart from some rusty old Ottoman
cannons and some dingy cells where, in days past, the Ottomans had supposedly
tortured their captives. The Greeks had painted the tower white, but one of the
older locals said that it used to be called the “Red Tower” for all the blood
that was shed there. The same locals pointed out the spot nearby where King
Constantine’s father, King George I, had been assassinated by a Greek anarchist
in 1913.

Eventually they returned to the hotel. Griffith
and Sandes excused themselves to rest and left Gresham and Häberlin in the
lounge.

“Would you care for anything, Miss Häberlin?”
asked Gresham, who saw no graceful way to leave her and frankly did not care to
do so.

“What do you drink, Captain?”

“Whisky, if they have it.”

“That would be fine for me, with a little
water.”

Gresham asked for a bottle of whisky and sat
next to Häberlin. She had crossed her legs and was bouncing her sleek, muscular
calf up and down nervously. Gresham found her hair to be really astonishingly
short. She wore little or no cosmetics, yet her skin was so clean and healthy
that she surely looked better without them. Her hazel eyes were intense, and
she kept up almost constant and intense eye contact. Even in her tan uniform
dress, she seemed so carefree and feminine, yet no one would ever mistake her
for a lady.

Gresham was not used to pretty women taking
such an interest in him. Although he was flattered, he also sensed that
Häberlin was no ordinary woman. He couldn’t imagine being a woman going off to
a foreign country, perhaps to serve in a war zone like Miss Sandes and Miss
Häberlin had done. He had never understood how a woman could bear to be treated
like a pet or, like his own poor mother, a beleaguered victim, and therefore he
viewed women as a mystery that he didn’t especially care to solve. Miss Sandes
and Miss Häberlin made him think of women in an entirely different way, and he
liked it. And he very much liked the way Miss Häberlin bounced her leg while
looking him quite frankly in eye. Now she produced a small tin from her hip
pocket which proved to contain several pre-rolled cigarettes. She took one and
held out the open tin to David. He took one himself and brought out his trench
lighter, as she snapped the tin shut and put it away, tapped her cigarette on
the table and placed it between her full, pink lips. He lit her cigarette and
she sucked the smoke gently, and then blew it out through her mouth and nose.

“How long do you plan to stay in Salonika,
Captain, now that you have seen everything that Salonika has to offer?” she
asked with a slight smirk.

“I’m still waiting for my friend from Athens
who is supposed to meet me here. I haven’t gotten word that he’s not coming, so
I suppose I must wait a bit longer to see if he shows up. At least a few days,
I should think. And have you any word yet on when your delegation will make the
trip to Prilep?”

“I believe it will be a few more days also. To
be honest, I am undecided about going. It seems to me that with so many
Serbians refugees coming to Salonika, we might do more good by staying here.
Perhaps the Hellenic Red Cross will come, so we shall see.”

“That’s quite sensible. There are rumors that
the Bulgarians are ready to invade Serbia any moment now, and you would
probably have to return to Salonika in any event. And, if I may say so, I would
rather like you to stay awhile,” he confessed feebly, looking in Häberlin’s
hazel eyes.