Map to illustrate the Campaign in Serbia.

In 1897 Bulgaria proposed to form a league uniting Greece and the Balkan States against Turkey, and in 1912 the league was formed. Shortly afterwards the First Balkan War began. Turkey was badly beaten, and much territory was taken from her; but when the time came for dividing up the booty the victors fell out and fought amongst themselves. Greece and Serbia took the field against Bulgaria, and overcame her. Ever since that time Bulgaria bitterly hated Serbia. Her king, Ferdinand, was a vain and cunning man, without a spark of personal courage, but with a keen eye for the main chance, and with no scruples to prevent him from seizing it. During the present war he watched and waited, and bided his time. When he saw the Russians retreating day after day, and the British and French making no progress in Gallipoli or in the West, he felt sure that Germany would win. He was a German himself, and he was now prepared to range himself with the Central Powers—at a price. On 17th July he signed a treaty by which, as a reward for joining the two Kaisers, he was to receive Serbian Macedonia, Salonika,[80] and some Greek territory. All August and September he was busy making his preparations, and by the beginning of October he was ready to obey his masters' orders, and fall upon Serbia.

Why did not the Allies hasten to the defence of threatened Serbia? "Thereby hangs a tale." On 11th September the Greek Premier, who believed that his country ought to stand by its treaty with Serbia and enter the fray, asked France and Britain for 150,000 troops. About a fortnight later the Allies agreed to furnish these troops, and the Greek army began to mobilize. Ferdinand had already called up his armies, but he told the world that he had only done so for the purpose of self-defence, and that he had no intention of making war on his neighbours. Serbia, however, knew better, and towards the end of September she informed the British that she was not going to wait until the Bulgarians were fully prepared, but was about to attack them at once. The British Government persuaded her not to do so, because it still had hopes that Bulgaria might be persuaded to stay her hand. You will soon learn that Serbia, by taking the advice of the British Government, suffered terribly.

By agreement with the Greek Premier, the Allies began to land troops at the Greek port of Salonika in the first week of October. The Greeks objected, but did not hinder us; indeed, they helped our army to occupy the place. Then came a remarkable change of front on the part of the Greek king. He had married the Kaiser's sister, and he went in fear of his brother-in-law. Probably he believed that Germany was going to win; he knew that Bulgaria was strong and Serbia weak, and that the 150,000 troops of the Allies could not turn the balance in his favour. So he informed his Prime Minister that he had never consented to fight on behalf of Serbia; whereupon the Prime Minister resigned, and a new Government was formed. It declared that Greece meant to remain neutral, though it was very friendly to the Allies.

While our transports were crowding the harbour at Salonika and the Allies were busy putting the place into a state of defence, Ferdinand threw off the mask. A week later, on 12th October, when his advance guards were over the border, he declared war on Serbia. Four days later Britain declared war upon Bulgaria. Von Mackensen had already crossed the Danube, and was pressing against the Serbian front with 200,000 men; a quarter of a million Bulgarians were moving eastwards against the exposed right flank of Serbia; and in Salonika there were 13,000 French and British troops preparing to march inland against the Bulgarian left. Such was the position of affairs on 15th October.


Now let us return to the Danube and briefly follow the stages of Serbia's agony. By means of the great river, which is linked with the canals of the Elbe and the Rhine, barges full of big guns and supplies had been conveyed to the scene of action. On 19th September, before the big guns arrived, Austrian batteries opened fire on Belgrade; but the Serbians and the British sailors who were fighting with them prevented a crossing. On 3rd October the enemy's big guns were placed in position, and the Serbian trenches were pounded to dust. It was the Donajetz bombardment all over again. Belgrade could no longer be held, and by the 8th of October the Austrians and Germans had crossed the Danube and the Save at six places between Shabatz and Belgrade. There was a desperate struggle in the streets of the capital, but on the morning of the 9th the place was in the enemy's hands. The lesson of Warsaw had been learned, and all that was valuable in the city had been carried off.

By 11th October the Austro-Germans held a hundred miles of front on the south banks of the Save and the Danube. The Serbians had fought desperately, but they could not stand before the mass of artillery brought against them. The Serbian left had been forced back towards the hills on which it had made its first stand against the third Austrian invasion, the centre had fallen back to a ridge seven miles south of the capital, and the right was being harried across the river plain and up the valleys of the Morava and the Mlava. On the Serbian right Mackensen moved his big guns slowly. He was waiting for the Bulgarians to take the Serbians in flank and in rear. On the 12th the Bulgarians attacked the Serbians at five different points, and it was clear that, if the Serbians were to avoid being completely surrounded, they must retreat, as the Russians had done. But, unlike the Russians, they had no vast land into which they could retire. Their only line of withdrawal lay to the west and south-west, into the bare, rugged highlands of Montenegro and the wilderness of Albania.

The French and British in the south were by this time struggling northwards in the attempt to reach Uskub, the great meeting-place of all routes in Southern Serbia. They were, however, too late: the Bulgarians entered Uskub on 22nd October, and the Allies were thus cut off from all communication with the interior.