CHAPTER XXIX

THE VOYAGE TO SALONICA--MALTA--SALONICA, 30TH NOVEMBER, 1916--JOURNEY TO KATERINA--OUTPOSTS AT STIPI.

H.M. Troopship _Transylvania_, which was unfortunately sunk by torpedo a few weeks later, set sail from Marseilles at midnight on the 19th November. A rough sea was encountered, and it was afterwards learnt that a tidal wave had swept over the harbour that night, destroying a great amount of shipping. The next day all was calm, and the officers and men of the Battalion became accustomed to their new surroundings, and acquainted with the interior of this huge vessel. Boat drill was the novelty, but even this soon became a “bore,” and after the first few parades everybody looked upon the compulsory life-belt attached to one’s body as a millstone, rather than the reverse. On the 20th, the islands of Corsica and Sardinia were passed about 4 p.m., and on the following day the vessel steamed along the north coast of Africa. During these days the calm Mediterranean lulled all into a sense of peace and security, and only when the three blasts of the ship’s syren disturbed the quietness and everyone bustled to their boat stations did one realise the possibility of enemy submarines spoiling the trip. It is said that R.S.M. Freemantle gained a handsome monetary reward for spotting a submarine, but the fact that only the R.S.M. saw it causes doubts in many minds. Regardless of any submarine reported to have been seen by the R.S.M., the _Transylvania_ was ordered by its escort of torpedo boat destroyers to put into St. Paul’s Bay, Malta, on the morning of the 22nd November, and about midday on the 24th, the liner proceeded into the harbour of Valetta. This harbour is one of the most wonderful in the world, and has a very narrow, heavily fortified entrance leading from the outer bay to the inner harbour, which was full of shipping, while men-o’-war of all classes were constantly passing in and out. The town itself is on the high ground around, and was glistening white under the hot sun of the Mediterranean, which poured down its rays from a cloudless blue sky. During the night of the 24th, a slight mishap occurred to the _Transylvania_ and she broke from her moorings, but the Battalion slept on under the protection of the submarine-forbidden harbour, unaware of any possible disaster. It was not until the 27th that the word to proceed was given by the Naval authorities, and a few days’ stay at Valetta had been thoroughly enjoyed by those members of the Battalion (officers and N.C.O.’s only, I am afraid), who were permitted ashore. A route march through the town had been arranged for the troops, but unfortunately this had to be cancelled on the receipt of orders to sail.

The journey was continued from Malta without event, and on the 29th November we passed the islands of the Greek Archipelago, the names of which were always in dispute and finally were dubbed with nicknames such as Enos, Kolynos, Thermos, Chaos, and so on. When nearing Salonica several hospital ships, which had been ruthlessly torpedoed, were just visible above the water where they had been beached. The next day, the 30th, the harbour of Salonica was reached, and the Battalion disembarked on the quay during the morning. From the harbour the town of Salonica looked very fine, and extends from the green slopes of the hills on the east along a flat stretch of some five miles to the low dismal country at the foot of the Greek mountains. The town is dotted with mosques and oriental churches, and the famous White Tower on the promenade forms a striking contrast to the low shops and hotels which line the harbour front. However, all this apparent beauty was soon dispelled, and the mud and smell of even the main thoroughfares was simply indescribable. On the quayside hundreds of troops, French, Serbians, Russians and Greeks, were shouting and making the harbour a babel of foreign tongues. The route taken by the Battalion lay through the western end of the town, and the curious shops with their gaily-dressed, though ragged, merchants caused much comment among the troops. Slow, lumbering oxen wagons formed the local method of transport, and these, intermixed with the heavy army motor lorries, caused considerable congestion. After the jumble of traffic through streets a foot deep in mud and filth, the Battalion was relieved to strike the main high road for Dudular. All along this road were signs of military activity; ordnance stores, A.S.C. dumps, motor lorry parks, and ammunition depots lined the route, and a few miles from the town the Battalion passed two extensive canvas general hospitals. Through this military city, which had sprung up with mushroom-like growth during the war, a railway had been built, and it struck one as being extremely humorous to see a green engine with L.S.W.R. in golden letters on its side puffing along under the control of the R.E. drivers. What visions of Waterloo and leave trains! This line was continued as far as Monastir, and troop trains of French and Serbians constantly passed up and down. The camp was finally reached after a march of about eight miles, and was situated on barren, desolate ground, which extended from a chain of hills to the marshes along the Salonica-Monastir Road. On this plain the whole Division was concentrated under a huge canvas camp. The ground was rough, uneven, stony and cut by numerous “nullahs.” Every one pitched his tent wherever the geographical and geological conditions permitted, and it is regretted that the beautiful straight lines of tents that distinguished our camp at Saffron Walden were no longer to be seen. Natives wandered around the camp and were promptly dubbed “hoojahs,” a word which was attached to all things Greek for want of a better descriptive word. These natives presumably desired to sell their fruits and wares, but judging by their mixed uniform of khaki and native garb it was doubtful whether “scroungeing” was not their real intention. On the few more level spots that were available football commenced, and for the first few days life was enjoyable. Letters were again allowed, and in spite of drills and parades it was a most restful time by day. Night time, however, was disturbed by the inroads upon the tired flesh of the troops by numerous “minor horrors of war,” which had been encouraged to life by the blankets and conditions generally on board the transport ship. Changes of underclothes were issued and washing in the muddy streams somewhat arrested the unpleasantness. This period was a particularly busy one for the Quartermaster’s Stores, and stores and equipment peculiar to the East were issued, among which were bivouac sheets. Each man having been presented, gratis by the thoughtful authorities, with a small khaki canvas sheet about a yard square, together with a pole 2 feet 6 inches long, two tent pegs and a piece of stout cord, bivouac parades were instituted. The erection of a bivouac was not an easy matter on such stony ground, and even when erected (sometimes by the aid of bayonets and entrenching tools, the use of which was soon forbidden) the open end provided little comfort from the cold winds which blew from the hills at night. To add to this discomfort, heavy torrential rains poured down on the 8th December, and bivouacs fell down on their occupants during the night with alarming rapidity, even the bell tents which remained were rooted from their moorings, and an unpleasant night was spent. The ground soon became a quagmire, and in the nullahs streams of brown, muddy water rushed along. The colour of the water used for cooking and making tea was of the same delightful solidity, and there was little difference between the tea before and after brewing. However, the weather improved slightly, and the next item of interest was the arrival of over 100 mules for the transport section, “straight from the nest” as it were, and with no decorous idea of military discipline. The Quartermaster’s Stores was full of pack saddlery absolutely new, slippery and unpliable, and the following day “Bill Bailey’s Circus” was in full swing. The transport section, under Second Lieutenant F. T. Bailey, was supplemented by fatigue parties from the Battalion, until each mule had nearly a dozen attendants, all of whom were absolutely necessary. The mules were then dressed in their new kit by the untiring energies of the transport section and their co-opted fatigues and paraded for the Commanding Officer’s inspection. This, however, did not last for many minutes; objections were raised, not forgetting the hind legs, by the four-footed members of the transport, and “saddles reversed” was soon performed. It was infectious, and half the animals soon left the arena with kits incomplete, or at least in quite the wrong places on their bodies. Finally the parade, or rather what was left, was dismissed, and then followed the counting of the mules, several of which had escaped. This, however, did not disturb the Transport Officer, he calmly remarking, “They will turn up at feeding time.” The next morning a recount was made, and apparently the mules had decided with which Regiment in the Brigade they would be billeted. Exchanges were made and, needless to say, the receiver was never the chooser. On the following day, after another wet night when the mule lines had become a horrible mixture of muddy transport men, mules and saddlery, the Battalion, complete with transport, was ordered to parade for a route march, apparently not so much for the benefit of the troops, but as a test for the endurance of “Bill Bailey’s Circus.” The mules were “dressed up” and the saddles loaded with panniers, etc., and after a considerable delay the Battalion started along the road. A few paces was sufficient to bring about a debacle in the column; packs slipped, and the men were detailed to fall out and reload the mules. Every yard of the route was strewn with loads of all descriptions, many of which had, no doubt, been unevenly weighted. The plain was dotted with muleteers chasing after mutinous mules which had dispensed with their encumbrances and taken flight. How many mules finished the march is not recorded, but sufficient to say the march proved amusing if nothing else. The next few days were spent in scraping mud and salving blankets, waterproof sheets, equipment and saddlery, which had been mislaid in the mud that followed the heavy rain each night. On the Sunday, 10th December, a Brigade route march was ordered, and we were inspected by our new Brigadier, General F. M. Edwards, C.M.G., who had taken the place of Brigadier-General Baird, who had remained in France.

The same afternoon secret orders were received, and by midnight the Battalion, less its transport, was marching to Salonica Docks. After a few hours’ wait on the quayside, the Battalion embarked on board H.M. torpedo boat destroyer _Mosquito_, and set sail for somewhere in Greece. Accommodation was very limited, and the black smoke from the funnels of the boat soon covered every one with soot. The officers and crew of the destroyer did all in their power to secure the maximum amount of comfort for the troops, and the whole of the Battalion officers were given an excellent breakfast in the small ward room. During the afternoon the Greek coast was approached, and in the distance we could see the snow clad peaks of the Olympus group. The destroyer anchored a few hundred yards from land, and parties of the Battalion were sent ashore in the small boats. Great credit is due to the Naval folk for their handling of these boats, and, with the exception of a few hasty members who jumped ashore out of the boats too soon, no mishap occurred, and with a cheer from both arms of the Service the destroyer left for sea. The Battalion lined up on the beach at a place called Scala Vromeris. The weather was glorious and the wet clothes of the unfortunates were soon dried. Small fires were made on the beach and a frugal meal was partaken. Scala Vromeris consisted of a few wooden huts, and apparently was the “port,” or rather the landing place, of the town of Katerina, which lay a few miles inland. Only a few Greeks were in occupation, and a large party of Maltese, working under some French soldiers, were housed in the small huts. Orders were received to march inland, leaving a rear party of about 50 men to await the arrival of stores from Salonica. The march was along a genuine “Greek” road, the chief constituents of which were mud, holes, ruts and large stones, but the route was without steep gradients, and the town of Katerina was reached early in the evening. This was a typical Grecian country town, and the natives thronged the streets half in fear and half in jubilation on the arrival of the troops. On the further side of the town was a large Turkish barracks, and here the Battalion was billeted. Men soon made purchases at the shops of very inferior tasteless cigarettes, but nuts and fruit were of excellent quality, though the prices were somewhat exorbitant. A party of officers found their way into a “café,” but when one realises that the plates were returned three times to the washer-up before they could be accepted for eating purposes, the quality of this “café” can be better appreciated. Like the rest of the town and its people it was extremely filthy.

The next day was spent in cleaning up the barracks, which afterwards reached a state of comparative comfort in spite of the broken windows and damaged floors. The day was peaceful enough, but when the day’s rations of bully beef and biscuits had been eaten every one wondered where the next meal was coming from. Neither the stores from Scala Vromeris nor the Battalion transport had yet arrived. The town itself had been practically exhausted of its eatables, and finally the question was settled by means of “local purchase.” A flock of sheep was bought by the Brigade, and mutton was issued to the men, but even fresh killed mutton stewed in mess-tins does not make a very substantial day’s feed for hungry troops. The Battalion, however, managed to “scrounge,” and a few additions were obtained privately from a French Quartermaster’s stores located in one part of the barracks, and these helped to eke out the meagre rations. It was a couple of days afterwards before the Battalion transport, which had taken an overland route from Salonica, arrived, and stores also arrived from the shore, though in the meantime it had been necessary to eat our “iron rations.” Both the transport and the stores’ escort had their special adventures.

At Salonica the Battalion stores had been loaded on flat lighters, which had proceeded to Scala Vromeris in tow of tugs. Heavy seas were encountered and many of the lighters broke loose and some drifted back to Salonica, while others, with half their cargo washed overboard, fought their way to Scala Vromeris. Those that landed back at Salonica proceeded under better conditions a day or so later, and on arrival were soon unloaded by the fatigue party we had left on the sea-shore. Much, however, was lost at sea, including officers’ valises, mess boxes, cooks’ gear, spare saddlery, Lewis gun panniers, ammunition, blankets, etc., but what remained was carted from the shore to Katerina by the aid of local ox-waggons, which lumbered along at a snail’s pace.

The Battalion transport, which had travelled overland from Dudular Camp near Salonica, left there the same evening as the Battalion, and had been brigaded with the transport of the other units in the 179th Brigade, and had been escorted on the route by mounted troops. The journey was not a happy one, and they had only moved at night for purposes of secrecy. This fact alone made travelling difficult, but the wet weather multiplied their troubles threefold. The roads were heavy and badly made, mere tracks across waste land, and maps were indistinct and even incorrect. Many of these tracks were built up above the level of the surrounding country, and so heavy were the floods that the water covered these roadways, and frequently pairs of mules were struggling in the water at the roadside sometimes five feet deep. When the catastrophes happened there was nothing to be done but to cut off the load and give it a watery grave; no attempt to salve them was possible or even desirable in the darkness. On one of these occasions, when mules and muleteer were thrown into the deeper water, an artillery officer, at great personal risk, dived in and saved the mule driver’s life, and Private Phillips, of our own transport section, was highly commended for his assistance, while the officer later received the Silver Medal of the Royal Humane Society for saving life. However, all is well that ends well, and the various parties of the Battalion which had set out from Salonica by different routes reunited at Katerina, but as a result of their respective adventures huge deficiency lists were prepared. For the next week the whole Battalion was employed on road making, and other Battalions assisted the R.E. parties to repair the embankment of the coastal railway from Salonica to Lharrisa, which had been washed away in many places. It was not long afterwards that the deserted railway station we had passed on the way from the coast became a centre of activity. Ration trains arrived daily from Salonica, and a large dump of stores and ammunition was formed at Katerina Station. The Army Service Corps and Royal Engineers did great work, and soon rations, letters, and stores appeared with unfailing regularity from the Base. The Brigade soon established itself comfortably at Katerina, and even the local residents appreciated the situation and replenished their stores with foodstuffs, wines and cigarettes.

A word must also be said in praise of the N.C.O.’s and men of the French contingent in this area. They did all they could to welcome the Britishers, and dinner parties were held nightly in the Turkish barracks in our honour, probably to the detriment of the French ration supply, but that was beside the point; “a short life and a gay one” was their motto. After dinner, songs in English and French were sung, toasts were drunk and friendships made. These convivial evenings will live long in the minds of those who participated.

On the 20th December, 1916, the Battalion marched out to Stipi, a few miles south of Katerina, to take over an outpost line which had been held by the Queen’s Westminsters since our arrival in this part of Greece. The march was over rough country, and the additional kit in the shape of bivouac sheets, waterproofs, blankets, winter clothing and cardigans, extra bandoliers of ammunition fairly broke the backs of the men.

“A,” “C” and “D” Companies relieved the outpost line, and “B” Company, with Headquarters, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores were kept in reserve. The outpost line was along the low ridge of hills which ran from Stipi to Kundariotisa, and strict orders were issued that no movement on the skyline should be made by day. Bivouac camps were therefore erected on the reverse or northern slopes which ran down to the grassy valley of the River Mavourneri. From the southern slopes of this ridge the panorama was wonderful, a flat stretch of country for some twenty miles could be seen in the direction of Lharrisa, so that observation from the defences was perfect. On the further side of the plain rose the gigantic chain of snow-capped peaks, of which Mount Olympus formed a massive centrepiece. This mountain wall cut off the Katerina area from the rest of Southern Greece. Only by way of the narrow seashore plain and through the famous Petras Pass on the west of Katerina could the south be reached. At this time the attitude of Greece towards the Allies was questionable, and the position taken up by the Brigade was to secure the base at Salonica from any attack that might have been made from the south.

The Battalion employed itself now in commencing to dig a defensive line on the southern slopes of the ridge, and trench-digging in this part of the world was extremely laborious, as the ground was practically solid rock.

Barbed wire was not obtainable, and for the purpose of obstacles thick zarebas of short, stiff, prickly thorn bushes which covered the hill-side were used for entanglements. In our spare time football was played, and platoon and company competitions were soon in full swing. A splendid flat field had been cleared near the river bank, and was the scene of many exciting struggles. Christmas was approaching, and funds were collected for additional luxuries. The canteen opened by Brigade at Katerina was insufficient to supply the extra needs for the festive season, and Lieutenant Andrew and an able assistant were sent to Salonica by rail, where a Base Canteen was successfully attacked, and on Christmas Eve large supplies of Christmas goods arrived; not so much in quantity as we should have liked, but considering the difficulties of transport, Lieutenant Andrew was to be congratulated. Chicken and eggs were purchased from the local villages of Stipi and Kundariotisa, and altogether a happy Christmas was spent in the bivouacs. Christmas decorations were numerous and consisted chiefly of grey-back shirts and underclothing which had become unpleasant to wear and decked the surrounding thorn bushes.

The festival of Christmas was celebrated by the local residents, and I had the pleasure of accompanying the Commanding Officer to the village of Stipi, where the chief man of the village bade us enter his house. Here we were ushered into the best room and seated on mats on the floor while the daughters of the house, in gay dresses, waited upon us, bringing in coffee, aniseed liqueur and apple jelly as refreshments. Conversation was carried on through the medium of the heir to the house, who had picked up a smattering of French in Salonica, where he was employed.

For the men sing-songs were arranged and sports were held, but the festivities of Christmas soon ceased, and the work on the trenches was resumed. New Year celebrations were limited to an excellent concert given in the Turkish barracks at Katerina by the French soldiers, and those who were privileged to attend thoroughly enjoyed their efforts.

The weather continued fairly fine, though spells of heavy rain, and sometimes snow, fell, making life in small canvas “bivvies” rather miserable. The Battalion remained on this outpost line for just over six weeks, during which time a strong defensive line facing Lharrisa had been built, and this was continued to the coast on the left flank by a series of strong points built and manned by the Westminsters. Road making and bridge building were carried on by the reserve Company, and I am sure the local Greeks must have appreciated our efforts, which resulted in the many military roads connecting Katerina with the surrounding villages. Occasionally field days were held by the Brigade, the rendezvous always being the Tumulus, which was an ever-present landmark for miles around our position. Kit inspections were frequent, and the losses of equipment, etc., resulting from our journey from Salonica led to lengthy sittings of a Board of Enquiry, and consequently many entries were made in pay books for loss of kit. In our spare time we played football after the day’s work, and keen competitions between platoons and companies resulted. Matches were arranged with the other Regiments in the Brigade, in which the Civil Service came through with considerable credit. For the benefit of officers a riding class, under the Medical Officer, Dr. J. W. Leech (John Willie to all his friends) was instituted, and the quality of riding in the Battalion greatly improved. While referring to John Willie’s equestrian ability, one must not overlook his medical skill. His sick parade each morning was divided into two classes; one from the Battalion and the other from the local villages, which brought their sick for attention. Frequently the Doctor was called out to a village to attend an invalid, and among the natives his skill was considered wonderful; not that I infer the Battalion did not appreciate his efforts, for his droll manner and Irish humour were characteristics we all loved, and his attention to all ranks was without fault. The only difference was that the natives presented him with fowls, fruit and small gifts, whereas the unfortunate recipient of a No. 9 offered his thanks in words alone. When a man was beyond the curative powers of a No. 9 or its brother pills he was transferred to the Field Ambulance, which had been established at Katerina. The country around was rough, and was only traversed by mule tracks, so that it was impossible to bring motor ambulances up as far as the Regimental Aid Post. The lying cases were, therefore, taken to hospital by means of a strange vehicle drawn by a mule. This vehicle simply consisted of two long poles some twenty feet in length which were attached to the mule after the manner of shafts, while the ends dragged on the ground behind the mule. These two poles were secured to each other in rear of the mule, and the stretcher was fixed resting between the poles, so that the patient’s head was higher than his feet. Whether this was a comfortable means of transit must be left to the judgment of the victims, but undoubtedly it was the most suitable means in those parts.

No mention hitherto has been made of “Peter,” who was appointed Battalion interpreter. He was an undersized Greek, who loved the Regiment, and no doubt worked very hard in the “Grecian way,” and although no one understood his parleys with the local natives when we wished to dig up their land for trenches, it is believed that he coerced them by the authority given to him by the wearing of the Prince of Wales’s feather in his cap. He loved the Battalion better than his countrymen.

About the middle of February the Battalion left the outpost line at Stipi, and two Companies, “A” and “B” proceeded to Katerina barracks together with Headquarters Company, Transport, and Quartermaster’s Stores. The other two Companies, under the command of Major A. A. Oliver, moved to Kolukuri, a few miles west of Katerina, and erected their bivouacs in Shrine Woods. Here a flank defensive line was held by night posts. From the 15th of February until the 28th the Battalion remained in these stations, and the only excitement which broke the monotony of the life was the visit of a strange aeroplane, which flew over the square at Katerina barracks. No one understood its mission and gazed at it curiously, for underneath its wings were two large blue crosses and not the black Maltese cross used on German aeroplanes. After it had taken note of everything it flew away; no one fired at it, and no one to this day knows the meaning of this “mystery” plane. Orders from Brigade to fire at it came later on, but by that time the plane was well out of the range of our field guns.

On the 28th of February the Battalion concentrated on the main road near Kolukuri on the way to the Petras Pass and proceeded up towards the Pass, where a strong defensive position had been held since our arrival in December by the London Scottish. The Battalion halted at Kalivia Miljas for the night, and the most unpleasant night it proved to be with the heavy rains. The following day orders were received to return to Katerina, and the Battalion marched back again as far as the banks of the River Mavourneri, just outside the town. In flood time the river is over a mile in width, but at other times it dwindles down to a fast stream only 40 to 50 feet wide. It was on the rough, dry sandy bed of the river that the whole Brigade was encamped, and here preparations for a long trek were made. The weather was fine, but the strong winds that blew and raised sandstorms made it an unpleasant resting place, and no one regretted the order to move, which was received on the 9th of March.

Before ending this chapter on our stay in Macedonia, the following letter, written from Greece, might prove interesting:--

“Macedonia is a lovely country, and the lack of reading matter a considerable hardship. It is a land of bare treeless valleys, strongly reminiscent of the Veldt and high snow-clad spurs of the Balkans. Of the people, the less said perhaps the better. St. Paul in old time was of the opinion that the Thessalonians were ‘lewd persons of the baser sort,’ or words to that effect, and my experience is that they have not improved by keeping in the interim. A motley mixture of Turks and Bulgars with a smattering of Greeks, they are undoubtedly picturesque in garb, more undoubtedly filthy in person and habits, and most undoubtedly the finest collection of thieves, brigands and cut-throats that could be brought together. When the brigandage business is slack, as at present, they apparently fill in their spare time as herdsmen and shepherds. We are employing considerable numbers in road making and the other day I heard the following: A party of Greeks came along towards our transport, and one bright youth on sighting them lifted up his voice to his chum, ‘Look out, Jack! Here comes Ali Baba and his forty ---- thieves.’

“The days are hot and the nights bitterly cold, while at times a terrifically strong and piercing wind, called the Vardar blast, blows from the Balkans. Taken altogether the majority of us heartily wish ourselves back in France.”