The Entente Powers could not, of course, deny the reasonableness of this plea; but neither could they ignore the inconveniences to themselves that would arise from its frank recognition. Between their base at Salonica and the troops which had advanced to Krivolak interposed several Greek army corps; at Salonica also Greek camps lay among the Franco-British camps scattered round the town: these conditions impeded organized operations. General Sarrail, the Commander-in-Chief of the Allies, had nothing but praise for the courtesy of the Greek authorities, both civil and military. Yet not a day passed without incidents. He complained that obstacles were placed in his action through a multitude of secondary details: the Municipality claimed duties; the Railway Service did not assist as liberally as could be wished in the work of getting off the stores which arrived at the port. It was necessary that the Greek troops should be moved out of the Allies' way and leave them in full control: privileges which no State could voluntarily grant and remain neutral; which no army could forgo and work efficiently. So the General, while confessing that "we often place them in a difficult position by demanding permissions which their virtual neutrality cannot allow them to give," impressed on the Entente Governments the need of taking strong measures with the Greeks.[6]

Germany would have proceeded to deeds without wasting words—beyond a casual "Necessity knows no law." But nations fighting for noble ideals could not imitate Germany's cynicism. A case had to be made out to {80} justify coercion. It was. Greece did not really wish to remain neutral. Misled by a Germanophile Court, she only waited for a chance of joining the enemy—of stabbing the Allies in the back. When this amazing theory—widely popularized by the French and English Press—was hinted to M. Rallis by "Our Special Correspondent," on 18 November, the Greek Minister could hardly credit his collocutor's sanity: "It is mad!" he cried out. "It is senseless to imagine such a thing—when you could have the guns of your fleet levelled on our cities!" The answer, however—an answer the conclusiveness of which a glance at the map is enough to demonstrate to the dimmest intelligence—fell upon deliberately deaf ears. The very journal which in one page recorded it, in another wrote: "Bulgaria has gone; Greece is trembling in the balance. Only a display of overwhelming force on our part can hold her steady and prevent the accession of another 500,000 men to the enemy's strength."

That the publicists who argued thus and who, to give to their argument greater cogency, generously added to the Greek army some 200,000 men, were persuaded by their own reasoning, it is hard to believe without libelling human sense. Apart from the ocular refutation supplied by the map, what had Greece to gain by siding with the enemies of the Entente? That she would lose all her islands, have her coast towns pulverized and her population starved, was certain. What she could get in return, it needed a very robust imagination to suggest. The only countries at whose cost the Hellenic Kingdom could possibly compensate itself for these inevitable sacrifices were Turkey and Bulgaria; and those countries were Germany's allies. A moment's reflection raises a number of equally unanswerable questions: If the Greeks wanted to join Germany, why did they not do so when the Kaiser invited them at the very beginning of the War? Why did they not resist the landing of the Allies? Why did they not attack them when they had them at their mercy: 60,000 French and British, with the Germans and the Bulgars in front of them, and 150,000 Greeks between them and Salonica?[8]

{81}

In this connexion the evidence of an eminent English soldier and an eminent French statesman who visited Athens at that time to study the situation on the spot may be cited. To each King Constantine and M. Skouloudis, in the course of lengthy interviews, declared that the Allied forces had nothing to fear in Greece. Each was convinced of their sincerity, and of the true motives of their attitude: "They both," reported Lord Kitchener, "seem very determined to stick to their neutrality." Likewise General Dousmanis, Chief of the General Staff, and Colonel Metaxas, who were represented to the Entente publics as Germanophile pedants, satisfied Lord Kitchener of their genuine concern about the British sphere in the East, and startled him by pressing upon him a plan of action "almost exactly the same as detailed in my telegrams, and based their conclusions on the same argument almost word for word. They emphatically stated that there was no other way of preventing the accomplishment of the German project." [9] M. Denys Cochin even went so far as to publish to the whole world that the suspicions entertained against King Constantine had no other source than party rancour.[10]

For the rest, a striking proof that the Entente Powers themselves did not believe the story of the Greek Government's hostile intentions is afforded by the fact that, instead of demanding, they deprecated the disbandment of the Greek army. When Lord Kitchener saw M. Skouloudis, the latter said that the Allies' mistrust might well force Greece to consider whether it would not be better for her to demobilize, leaving to them all responsibility for the consequences. Lord Kitchener, in the presence of the British Minister, replied that, "as to some partial demobilization, it was for Greece to decide according to her interests, but he did not think a general demobilization advisable." And again, a little later on, when {82} M. Skouloudis, irritated by a fresh exhibition of mistrust, told the French Minister that, in face of such a state of things, nothing was left for his unhappy country but to order at once a general demobilization, and let the Entente Powers do what they liked to her, M. Guillemin cried out, "Ah, no. I am decidedly against demobilization." Naturally: "the Greek Army," said Sir Thomas Cuninghame, the British Military Attaché, to General Moschopoulos. Military Governor of Salonica, "saves and secures the flanks and rear of the Allies." [11]

However, the story served the purpose of supplying a pretext for pressure. All ships carrying foodstuffs and other commodities were held up. In addition, Milo—an island not far from Athens—was occupied, and the Allied Fleet was ordered to be ready, in case things should be pushed to extremes, to open war on Greek commerce, to destroy the Greek Fleet, and to bombard Athens, en respectant les monuments anciens.[12]

Fortunately, the occasion for extreme measures, by which even the ancient ruins might have suffered, did not arise. General Sarrail, who at first urged that the naval demonstration against Athens should be proceeded with immediately, on second thoughts, prompted by nervousness as to the safety of his troops, deprecated such action. At the same time, M. Skouloudis, alarmed by the blockade—Greece never has more than a very limited food reserve—invited the Allies to state their demands, saying that he would accede to them if it was possible to do so.[13]

Whereupon the Allies, "ever animated by the most benevolent intentions towards Greece, and anxious that the equivocal situation in which events had placed her towards them should come to an end and their relations be re-established on a basis of mutual and lasting confidence," demanded first of all a formal assurance that in no circumstances would the Greek troops attempt to disarm or intern the retiring Allied troops, but that the policy of benevolent neutrality promised would be maintained with all its consequences. They disavowed any wish or intention to compel the Hellenic Government to {83} participate in the European War from which it had declared that it meant to hold aloof. But it was a vital necessity for them not to let it in any way hinder the freedom of their movements on land or sea, or compromise the security of their troops throughout the field of their operations. They therefore must be assured that they will obtain, according to the promise already given by M. Zaimis, all the facilities which they might require, notably in the port of Salonica and on the roads and railways. It was understood that the Entente Powers would restore in full at the end of the War all the parts of Greek territory which they might be obliged to occupy during the hostilities, and that they would duly pay indemnities for all damage caused by the occupation.[14]

M. Skouloudis, after thanking the Entente Powers for the benevolent intentions with which they declared themselves to be animated towards Greece, willingly repeated the assurances he had so many times already given, that the Greek troops would in no circumstances seek to disarm or intern the Allied troops, and that the Greek Government in its relations with the Entente Powers would in everything hold fast to its policy of benevolent neutrality. He once more noted the reiterated disavowal by the Allied Governments of any wish or intention to force Greece into the War, and on his part disavowed any wish or intention to hinder in any way the freedom of their movements on land or sea, or to compromise in any way the security of their troops. The Hellenic Government had always kept the promises made by M. Zaimis to the very utmost of its ability, and had no difficulty in renewing the assurance that the Allied Governments would continue to receive all the facilities their troops might require in the port of Salonica, and on the roads and railways.[15]