Kingdoms Fall - The Laxenburg Message (27 page)

The Serbian casualties during the retreat from
Nish, they learned, had been just under three hundred men killed that day, but
the total for the past three days’ fighting had been over two thousand. The
Bulgarians outnumbered the Serbians by four to one. In spite of the crushing
superiority of the enemy, the Serbians had fought with courage and confidence,
defending their positions foot by foot. To the south, however, the Bulgarians
were battering the Serbian units guarding the Babuna Pass and, to the north,
the Serbians were retreating quickly from Kraljevo. It was thus clear to
everyone that the Serbian army faced imminent annihilation or capture, making a
forced retreat inevitable.

           
Early the next morning they learned that the Bulgarian army was only twenty miles
from Prishtina. Orders were issued to fire the ammunition stores that could not
be moved and to evacuate the town. On the routes leading south, there was a
mass exodus of civilians and soldiers on cold and muddy roads. Gresham and
Wilkins accompanied King Peter in his sedan again, only this time they drove as
quickly as possible west towards Petch. There could be no further delay: The
retreat into Albania must be ordered before the Bulgarians were able to capture
the mountain passes to the south and encircle the Serbian army, forcing their
surrender. Ever since the Austrian and German attack on Belgrade, the
instructions of the Entente to the Serbian command had been to avoid risking
everything on a pitched battle and to retreat slowly, delaying the advance of
the enemy as much as possible until the French and British should be in a
position to aid the Serbians. The Serbians had done so for several weeks, yet
no help had come. The Serbians were now with their backs against the mountains
of Albania. The one small force the French had sent from Salonika had been
forced to retreat into Greece.

           
By the time King Peter, Gresham, and Wilkins reached Petch, a few miles over
the border into Montenegro, Marshal Putnik was waiting to meet them. The collapse
of the Serbian defenses and the imminent fall of Prilep had already forced
Putnik to accept the plan to retreat over the mountains into Albania and ferry
the army to Corfu. There was no need for discussion, and Pashitch and his
government ministers had already proceeded to the city of Scutari that morning;
they were to be evacuated by the British Navy. Crown Prince Alexander was on
his way to Salonika to meet with Venizelos. King Peter, however, chose to
accompany his army over the mountains to Albania, and Gresham and Wilkins
stayed on to protect him.

           
The next morning they awoke to find the wide open plains of the Kosovo region
were covered with a thick blanket of pure white snow. Over this, long lines of snow-clad
soldiers could be seen marching west, the columns extending for miles into the
distance. A deep silence filled the plains, except that overhead the sky was
full of crows whirling and croaking over the heaps of dead oxen and horses left
along the sides of the road. The soldiers looked exhausted and starving
already, and the march over the mountains would be slow, with little provisions
for them and no fodder at all for the horses and oxen.

           
Gresham and Wilkins were given the opportunity to ride in a lorry with a
company of French munitions experts who had been destroying bridges and train
tracks behind the Serbian army retreat. Eventually the lorries would have to be
left behind, as the mountain passes in some places dwindled down to nothing
more than foot paths, but Gresham and Wilkins were especially unlucky as their
lorry’s motor gave out rather quickly. They had to help push it off into a
field, where it was doused with petrol and set ablaze. Nothing could be left
for the Bulgarians. As they marched higher into the mountains, more and more
vehicles were breaking down and were simply pushed over the edge into the
ravines below. That night it began to snow again, and Gresham and Wilkins slept
overnight in a dark munitions tent surrounded by explosives.

           
On more than one occasion, Wilkins remarked that the mountain crossing was
reminiscent of Napoleon’s expedition over the Alps prior to the battle of
Marengo in 1800. Unlike Napoleon, the Serbians were not marching to victory in
battle; rather, they marched in the last stages of defeat, their uniforms in
rags and their boots held together with straps of leather or twine, with
inadequate food and almost no means of transportation. The number of men
freezing to death climbed with each passing night; some simply sat down on the
side of the path to die.

           
As they traversed the plateau and began the long slow descent into Albania,
Gresham and Wilkins stayed close to King Peter. Despite his seventy-six years
he marched on foot with the vigor a younger man might have envied; some days,
the King never once mounted his horse, which a soldier led behind them. Albania
was a puppet state whose government had been installed by Serbia after the
Second Balkan War, and the Albanian people were still, for the most part,
hostile to the Serbians. They offered no hospitality except for payment in hard
silver and refused to sell fodder for the animals at any price. The number of
horses and pack animals was dwindling rapidly, and their carcasses had drawn
the wolves out of the forests to harry the troops at night.

           
At long last, however, the Serbian army and Serbian citizens came down into the
plains of Albania and forced themselves through the mud and snow for the final
march to Scutari and temporary refuge. They would rest briefly there before the
army would continue south to the port of Durazzo, and there board the British
ships transporting them to Corfu.

 

Corfu

W
ilkins and Gresham
viewed their arrival on the island of Corfu off the western coast of Greece as
a welcome opportunity to rest. In summer, Corfu was indeed a beautiful island
that had been enjoyed by many British families on holiday, but in the winter
the weather was cold and rainy and, apart from the comings and goings of the
Serbian soldiers encamped in the countryside, the town was very quiet.
Immediately after they arrived on the island, King Peter and Marshal Putnik
left again for Salonika to meet with Venizelos, and the island was thereafter
under the watchful eye and control of French soldiers and the British Navy, so
there was little for Gresham and Wilkins to do.

Gresham had diligently wired Mackenzie in Cairo
as to the major events of their mission in Athens, Salonika and Serbia; it took
him several days to complete the process of translating his notes into code. He
and Wilkins stayed at a comfortable little house in the heart of the old town
where both food and wine were abundant – a great relief after the deprivations
of Salonika and Serbia – and one charming young woman from the little yellow
house on Lemonia Square helped to warm Gresham’s bed, though not mend his
damaged heart. (Wilkins professed a desire to remain above such debauchery.)

It was by sheer chance that Gresham and
Wilkins, as they happened to duck into a little out-of-the-way church during a
sudden rain storm, found Miss Flora Sandes standing in the small vestibule as
well.

“Good heavens,” said Wilkins. “David, look who
it is! Miss Sandes, whatever are you doing here at Corfu?”

“Captain Wilkins, Captain Gresham, what a
wonderful surprise. I am here with the Serbian army, of course; I came with
them from Prilep, just as I told you I would.”

“I am so pleased to see that you made the
journey safely,” said Wilkins.

“But, Miss Sandes, I see you are wearing a
Serbian uniform,” added Gresham. “Are you now a nurse with the Serbian Army?”

“Well, indeed, it began that way. However, my
comrades on the journey felt it would be a bit safer for me to enlist in the
Serbian army, as I would then be, at worst, taken as a prisoner of war rather
than as a spy. But since then I have been promoted twice, first to Corporal,
and just recently to the rank of Sergeant Major in the Serbian infantry.”

“Kudos to you, Sergeant Major; well done,” said
Wilkins. “It is wonderful that you have had this opportunity to pursue your
strengths to their greatest advantage. The loss is entirely the British army’s.
Will you give us the honor of toasting your success at supper? Captain Gresham
and I were just on our way to a fish shop recommended by our host.”

“Certainly, it would be a great pleasure to
join you.”

They ran through the rain to a small but
comfortably warm little shop near the harbor, where they were served a hot fish
stew made with rosemary, lemon and tomato, fresh warm bread and a white wine.

“I must thank you both,” said Miss Sandes. “I
can’t remember having eaten so well in months.”

“Are the Serbians not receiving better rations
now that you have landed at Corfu? I thought the British and French were
supplying full rations,” said Wilkins.

“The quantity of food is adequate, but,
unfortunately, the menu has consisted primarily of Bully Beef, and it doesn’t
sit well with men who have been on half rations for months. There are men dying
still of dysentery, as well, although it’s been reduced somewhat since the
French began transporting the sick to the hospital on the little island of Vido
out in the bay; my Company and I now work on the docks there. But I must say,
on the whole, the French have behaved quite honorably towards the Serbian army,
and I believe we will recover sufficiently to return to Serbia next year. Plans
are already being drawn, I am told, but it will be a very long and costly
battle.”

“Do you plan to return to Serbia yourself?”
asked Gresham.

“Indeed I do, Captain. I feel it is my duty, as
an officer in the Serbian infantry, to do what I have promised to do. So, yes,
I shall continue to fight with the men until the Serbian homeland has been
returned to its people. Incidentally, were you gentlemen ever able to find King
Peter, as you had hoped?”

“Yes, in fact we accompanied King Peter over
the mountains to Albania,” said Wilkins.

“Did you? Prince Alexander was with us in
Prilep when we began our evacuation,” said Sandes. “He accompanied us over the
mountains as far as Durazzo, and I formed quite a favorable impression of that
young man.”

“In what regard?” asked Wilkins. “I ask quite
seriously, as King Peter and Prince Alexander both seemed, to put it bluntly,
the least ‘royal’ of the monarchs it has ever been my privilege to meet.”

“Perhaps that is why I liked him,” said Sandes.
“He seemed to understand how the soldiers were suffering, and did not shirk
from sharing their misery. I make no representations about their ability to
govern, but the Prince and his father are leaders and the Serbians greatly
respect them both.  Will you gentlemen be returning to Serbia, or are you
returning to Salonika? I believe you still have a friend there, do you not,
Captain Gresham?” she.

“No, I’m sorry to tell you we are not,” said
Gresham vaguely. “Things did not end in Salonika as I would have wished, and I
will not be going back.”

“I am sorry to hear that. We have heard that
Germany and Austria may now invade Greece,” she added. “Do you think they will?”

“No, I think it unlikely,” said Wilkins.
“Germany has seriously overplayed its hand already. We have learned that the
threat of invasion has forced King Constantine to mobilize at least one more
division and the new Prime Minister – despite that he was hand-picked by the
King – has forbidden Germany and Austria to enter Greek territory. And the
number of French and British troops at Salonika is growing daily.”

“That is a tremendous relief. Well, at least
allow me to toast you both, sirs, and to thank you for all you have done for
Serbia.”

           
During their supper, the rain had stopped and a cold wind had begun to blow in
from the north. Gresham and Wilkins walked silently back to their hotel.
Compton Mackenzie was overdue to visit them on Corfu to discuss their next
assignment, and Wilkins was still uncertain whether he would be traveling on
with Gresham. Gresham, however, had begun to formulate a new plan in his own
mind, and he was quite concerned what Wilkins would think of it.

 

 

Gresham and Wilkins were summoned to meet with Mackenzie
at a villa on the hillside above the beach, and the three sat comfortably
before the fireplace on a cold, wet day, sipping brandy and going over the
events in Athens, Salonika, and Serbia.

           
“Well I repeat, gentlemen, you have done a spectacular bit of work, and I
congratulate you,” said Mackenzie. “You may have saved Greece and Serbia and
you deserve medals. I haven’t any to give you, but you may consider yourselves
decorated. Have you enjoyed yourself, Mister Wilkins, or would you like to
return to the front lines now?”

 “Suppose you tell me what you have in
mind for us next, and I will let you know whether I care to join in.”

           
“Oh, well, I had supposed you fellows would wish to stay on Corfu and assist
the Serbians. Someone must keep an eye out for trouble here for the time
being,” said Mackenzie. “There must be a huge reorganization before the army is
prepared to return and fight their way back into Serbia next year.”

“We’re not needed here,” said Gresham. “The
Royal Navy has got this island sewn up tight, not that I mind a bit of
relaxation.”

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