“Nothing would suit us better,” he quickly replied. “The only difficulty we have with you is when you come around and bother us with English and French affairs.”
I asked him if I had ever given him any advice that had led them into trouble. He graciously replied that they had never yet made a mistake by following my suggestions.
“Very well, take my advice in this case, too,” I replied. “You will find later that you have made no mistake by doing so. I tell you that it is my positive opinion that your Cabinet is committing a terrible error by taking this step.”
“But I have given orders to this effect,” Enver answered. “I cannot countermand them. If I did, my whole influence with the Army would go. Once having given an order I never change it. My own wife asked me to have her servants exempted from military service, and I refused. The Grand Vizier asked exemption for his secretary, and I refused him, because I had given orders. I never revoke orders, and I shall not do it in this case. If you can show me some way in which this order can be carried out, and your protégés still saved, I shall be glad to listen.”
I had already discovered one of the most conspicuous traits in the Turkish character: its tendency to compromise and to bargain. Enver’s request for a suggestion now gave me an opportunity to play on this characteristic.
“All right,” I said. “I think I can. I should think you could still carry out your orders without sending all the French and English residents down. If you would send only a few you would still win your point. You could still maintain discipline in the Army, and these few would be as strong a deterrent to the Allied fleet as sending all.”
It seemed to me that Enver almost eagerly seized upon this suggestion as a way out of his dilemma.
“How many will you let me send?” he asked quickly. The moment he put this question I knew that I had carried my point.
“I would suggest that you take twenty English and twenty French—forty in all.”
“Let me have fifty,” he said.