The Secrets of a Kuttite / An Authentic Story of Kut, Adventures in Captivity and Stamboul Intrigue

by Edward O. Mousley

Just before Christmas the weather grew colder and more boisterous. I got leave to go to town and was allowed into the Maritza café. Here I found most urgent and useful news. Some fortnight before while walking with my posta, who was quite friendly towards me after his lira lunch, I told him I wanted to ask some German soldiers what mosques we could go to at Tchouka Bostan. Reluctantly he allowed me to speak to them. They took me for a civilian interné. I soon learned that German N.C.Os. often got along to the forbidden quarter, where were the usual nightly attractions for the troops, by pretending they were going to the Korkovado, a large Russian ship near the southern end of Galata Bridge, and used by the German General Staff Officers. Having got through the military police by saying they were off to the Korkovado, they swung past the ship around the bay. I intended to do the same, only to swing round out to sea. The restaurant man now verified this to be true.

The wind was so favourable and the position of our sailing boat, which had to be kept in an exposed bay in order to be ready, was so precarious that our friends sent us word that we must start Christmas Eve, notwithstanding the extreme cold. The idea of their arriving at the foot of the back wall was less to help us than to tell us whether the road was clear, i.e. on what streets the police sentries were, for as I have said, besides the garrison itself, a cordon of police surrounded most of the streets.

Doust and Castell came about six o'clock to the back street. As arranged, I had lowered a string down. Doust was to tie a note on the end if our plans were altered, and to smoke if we were to start.

Instead of this, however, they bungled badly, lost their direction in the dark, and jumped about in the most ridiculous fashion; in fact, their proceedings were the most suspicious imaginable. They continued to grope in the wrong corner of the section and to take alarm at their own shadows. They had previously inspected the section and said they had located our rope. This they could not have done.

All this time I was on the ledge outside our house hiding, with Greeks and others peering towards me out of windows not eight feet away. One was smoking and washing up. I thanked Heaven it was dark. Once she called out asking if any one was outside. I could almost have reached her with a stick. The posta had cut off my retreat by going upstairs, but it appeared he did not know I was outside. I felt greatly amused at our sentry with fixed bayonet mounting guard on the stairs, his prisoner being a few feet away outside the house beyond the door, which I had shut after me. I heard my friends trying to get the posta downstairs. When his steps sounded as going downstairs I threw some small bits of clay towards Castell to show him where we were. He looked round helplessly. I dropped some just over our corner. It made a loud sound. Still he did not understand. Then I threw a large lump and hit him. He skipped like a jackal and took to his heels with a terrific clatter. Although it was annoying the whole show was so funny that I almost overbalanced with laughter.

I went after him down the rope and found postas and sentries wandering about us in all directions, but our friends had gone. Sentries being on all the streets and on the qui vive, I returned up the rope and sent my orderly to the bazaar. There he found Doust. They said they had only come to tell us that the boat had been smashed on the rocks near Psamatia and had also fouled the Galata Bridge. But we were to start next night and walk to Galata, risking the German police and so on.

This was Christmas Eve which we now proceeded to celebrate, and determined to start next day. The other officers bearded the commandant's cat, a satanic beast that had stolen our food often. It combined all the cunning and resourcefulness of a dozen cats. It broke several windows and went for several of us before we despatched it. As a matter of fact, I deprecated all this as it meant renewed guards.

But our escape was known only to me and two other officers, as more than one found the topic all engrossing, and the newly captured had no idea of the danger from the Turkish spy system of being overheard. I was feeling pretty done up with the tension of waiting and waiting for days on the point of going every moment. I did not go to church as I wanted rest, and we had had a boisterous night. They brought back a note from church saying we should be off that night. All this meant an appalling amount of anxiety, as we had to eat with the commandant opposite. However, at the last moment a posta appeared, and in any case the wind was unfavourable and no signal came. We opened our Christmas parcels from the English community at Pera, and the colonel and I smoked on still full of hope. The posta pacing outside my door kept me awake. Alarmed at this embarrassment to our escape I protested loudly with him and called the guard to stop him. It was maddening to any one in our state of nervous health (besides inconvenient for the escape).

First thing next morning I went to Gelal Bey, our commandant, and complained. He smiled and shook his head. It was necessary. We had been caught speaking in church. I assured him it was the Christmas season, a season of peace on earth, not of tramping postas, etc. He laughed and said he would take him off late in the night. I asked him if he thought I was going to escape. This completely disarmed him. He indignantly said "Of course not. My arrangements are complete. You cannot." And he took off the posta at once. We had dinner, intending to start as soon as we got back from the commandant's house. The whole crowd of officers and clerks was there with the commandant at the head of the table. Colonel Newcombe was so silent and thoughtful that I thought something would be spotted. I contributed some liveliness, however, and drew up elaborate schemes for to-morrow's marketing and getting boots mended, and the usual routine. On returning to our room the posta was off, as had been promised.

Now I had been marked as an escape officer, and had refused my parole several times, so I was not bound in any way. I therefore assumed my disguises. I bulged horribly with my double clothes. Parts of this diary I had around my waist, and some in a roll which I had sealed. I waited twenty minutes from my hiding place outside, disguised and ready. Should we start or was it another failure? Then two highly-nervous figures passed at a quick walk, or run, beckoning us to come at once. At the last moment they abandoned all our careful plans, why, I never found out. I told them to wait a second and watch, as we heard sentries. They did not. We risked it. Half a word to the others and we were down the rope. I went first, then came the colonel dangling two legs in the air in great style. We waited at the foot of the rope while people passed. After a terrible delay Gardiner's little stout figure appeared on the rope going round and round. I reconnoitred and went ahead. Doust and Castell had simply sprinted on ahead rather panicky. I set out to track them. The others walking together tracked me. At last the two appeared, and Doust on seeing me started at a run evidently thinking me a German or sentry. It was awfully funny. I called to him to walk quietly, but he could not. His was just the way to attract notice. He led us miles round the seashore, and many people regarded us wonderingly. Finally, in reducing our going to a normal walk, we lost Doust altogether. At last when we reached the most glaring quarter, to our horror he came out in the main streets. Some one asked for a light. I went on.