Just before darkness fell a number of birds, coming from all directions, settled upon the battlefield, they were black in colour; round Kumanovo spread another “Field of Blackbirds.” But these were not blackbirds in the ordinary sense; they were carrion crows brought by some instinct from their lonely haunts to batten on man’s handiwork littering that death-strewn plain. A raucous cawing made the evening hideous; sometimes a cry, more harsh and guttural than the rest, seemed to propound a question, an answering clamour followed, approving, quarrelling; it might have been a parliament of birds, summoned fortuitously, already passing laws to regulate this unexpected intercourse. Gloating, but not yet satisfied, the stronger birds had made themselves lawgivers, and meant to impose respect for property upon their weaker brethren.
That night the Austrian Military Attaché left Servian Headquarters for Vienna. His Russian colleague explained his sudden departure on the ground that, according to the Austro-Hungarian program, the Turks ought to have won. It may have been unwise for a small Balkan State to cross the wishes of so great a Power; but neither doubts nor fears assailed the Serbs that night; they had gained at Kumanovo the first pitched battle of the war, and it had been a famous victory.
CHAPTER IV
Macedonia—1912
Macedonia is a tangle of mountains, whose higher levels are often bare and rocky; the intervening valleys are fertile, and in some cases, sufficiently extensive to be described as plains. These plains are the granaries of Macedonia, and contain the larger towns like Skoplje and Monastir, their population consists of peasants and farmers representing all the Balkan races, mingled with these, and living by their toil, are traders of almost every nationality. The scenery is wild and picturesque by turns, good roads are few and far between, they link the plains, which lie like oases in a wilderness of mountains, spaces of white, brown, green or yellow, according to the season.
The victory of the Serbs at Kumanovo had been decisive, it had settled the fate of Northern Macedonia. Similar success had attended the operations in Northern Albania, where the Turks had abandoned their positions and were falling back on Scutari, pursued by the 3rd Servian Army advancing westward to the Adriatic. After a short delay at Skoplje, devoted to the reorganization of the 1st and 2nd Armies, the Serbs continued their offensive towards Southern Macedonia; the bulk of their available forces, under the command of the Crown Prince, moved south in the direction of Monastir, while a detachment of all arms descended the Vardar Valley, its objective being Salonika.
These dispositions were dictated by sound strategy, which, for the moment, and quite justifiably, overrode all political considerations. The enemy’s Field Army in Macedonia had to be found and beaten; the remnants of that army were rallying for the defence of a second Plevna, covering the richest inland town in Macedonia, situated west of the Vardar Valley, and joined with Salonika by a railway. At this period, so far as I could judge, the Serbs were acting as loyal allies. The fact that no Bulgars were participating in the operations could be explained on administrative grounds.
I decided to remain with the Crown Prince’s reconstituted army, and arrived at his headquarters in the middle of November; they were established at Prilip, a prosperous little town situated at the northern extremity of the plain of Monastir. Winter had already set in, rain was falling on the plain and snow lay on the hills.