There was not on the front in Italy a division or even an army corps whose first lines were so far from their base as were those of the 35th Division. The distance from Salonica to Hill 1050 was not less than 170 km., most of which had to be covered either by the Monastir railway, which also supplied seven French divisions, all the Serbian Army, and at different times sundry Greek and Russian units, or by the high road, which also was in part used to supply those same forces. The railway journey was not a pleasant experience; one spent the night in a sordid dilapidated coach, often enlivened by bugs, with broken windows and torn cushions. This train de luxe conveyed us to Armenohor (the station for Florina), whence one continued the journey by lorry. It was more interesting to go the whole way by lorry or car, as well as quicker and more comfortable.
On emerging from the narrow ill-paved streets of Salonica we get on to the wide and very dusty Monastir road, overcoming numerous obstacles in the shape of holes and other irregularities. Right and left the British depots and dumps spread out over vast areas. Once the last huts and sheds are left behind, we cross the wide desert plain of the Vardar, partly marshy and very little cultivated, enclosed on the north-east by the mountains behind Vodena. The vast pastures and the silvery patches of water, with the background of distant blue mountains, remind one of the Roman Campagna, but on a larger scale, less populated and lacking in those stately ruins which render the country round Rome so deeply suggestive and give it that sense of vitality derived from the remains of the past. Here too there are historic memories in abundance, for many splendid civilizations flourished in this land, but the innumerable Barbarian invasions which devastated Macedonia have wiped out almost every trace of them, and it would be necessary to excavate in order to find ancient remains.
Shortly before reaching Yenidje-Vardar a strange-looking structure appears to the right of the road; it consists of massive walls and great blocks of stone into which iron pipes have been introduced, whence water pours out in abundance. It is popularly known as the Fountain of Alexander, and is, in fact, on the site of the ancient Pellas, Alexander the Great’s capital; not far off, amid the fields, the ruined arches of an ancient aqueduct may be seen. The fountain has been restored by the Allied troops and is used by their pack and transport animals. It was probably in the main piazza of the town; there, where the horses of the great Macedonian king were watered twenty-two centuries ago, those of the Chasseurs d’Afrique and of the Cavalleggeri di Lucca and of the A.S.C. of the Armée d’Orient were watered but yesterday.
Every now and then our car is held up by a Senegalese sentry—the French make much use of these troops for their lines-of-communication services—but as soon as he sees that it contains Allied officers we are allowed to pass on. Soon after Alexander’s fountain we reach Yenidje-Vardar. It is a large village, the only place of any importance along the 85 km. between Salonica and Vodena, built on a ridge which declines gradually towards the high road; it is very Oriental and picturesque, dirty, and in a state of utter dilapidation. The open shops, with their poor wares exposed on their window sills, are typically Turkish; the narrow, tortuous, dirty side-streets, the large trees and the abundance of greenery, and the numerous minarets are signs that we are in the really Turkish East. The largest of the mosques is externally handsome in appearance and imposing, but internally almost a ruin. It had been occupied successively by Turkish troops in flight, by Greeks in pursuit, and then by French, Serbs, Italians and Russians passing through; even up to the end of the war it served as a temporary shelter for French transport animals. The walls around the courtyard had been adorned by the Greeks with the names of their victories in the two Balkan wars—Yenidje-Vardar, for it was here that the battle which decided the fate of Salonica took place on November 1st-2nd, 1912,—a victory due to the Diadoch Constantine—Kilkish (July 4th, 1913), Doiran (July 7th), etc. Close to the mosque is the mausoleum, also in ruins, of the Hadji-Evremos family, who have a curious history. Its founder was a Greek converted to Islam in the reign of Osman (1317) and appointed Governor of Brussa; in the expedition for the conquest of Salonica (1428), when Yenidje-Vardar was the capital of Turkish Macedonia, several members of the family distinguished themselves as stout warriors and pious Moslems. For these merits the Sultan Murad II endowed them with the tithe of Yenidje-Vardar in perpetuity, i.e. he granted them the right to raise and enjoy the taxes in that district. This constituted an important revenue, and the Hadji-Evremos became one of the wealthiest families in the Empire, retaining their riches until our own times—a rare distinction in Turkey. But with the Greek conquest of Salonica the Hellenic Government refused to recognize their right which it regarded as derogatory to the prerogatives of the State. There were protracted discussions on this point during the peace negotiations, but the Turkish Government in the end had to give way, and the Hadji Evremos lost their revenues. The story of this family thus marks the beginning and the end of Turkish rule in Salonica. Yenidje has lost almost all its ancient importance. It is still frequented as an agricultural centre in a townless territory; the country round is fertile and fairly well cultivated, but malarious.
Some 25 km. further on, after crossing several branches of the Nisi Voda river, we reach Vertekop, at the foot of the mountains; here we again meet the Monastir railway, which has made a wide curve from Salonica, passing Verria and Niaussa, before reaching Vertekop and beginning the steep ascent. After Vertekop the road enters one of the few really smiling tracts of land in this forbidding Macedonia. The Nisi river falling from the heights of Vodena on to the plain, whence it reaches the Vardar, forms innumerable cascades and runnels, glimmering white amid the thick vegetation, reminding us of
The green steep
Whence Anio leaps
In floods of snow-white foam.
On reaching the plain below it divides again into many branches and channels, irrigating a tract of country which is thus rendered green and fertile. The road follows one of these streams, and the sight of many fine trees, cultivated fields and orchards is very restful to the eye. There are a few buildings amid the greenery, of the usual Turco-Macedonian type, and the Orthodox monastery of Agia-Triada, in whose grounds many antique fragments have been found, including some fine statues. Along the route one occasionally encounters wayside posts guarded by aged Serbian soldiers.
Then the road begins to ascend the steep incline up to the edge of the cliff at Vodena. Looking back, we have a magnificent vista of the Vardar plain, spreading out to the sea in the south-west and surrounded by wild bare mountains. Vodena is a pleasant little town, which the Greeks are trying to Hellenize, but they have not yet been able to destroy its semi-Slav semi-Turkish appearance. Narrow streets, flanked by picturesque houses of wood and plaster, the windows barred by musharabieh screens, all somewhat dilapidated; here and there a few more pretentious modern buildings, large trees in the middle of the streets and many runnels along the side walks, Oriental bazaars and cafés—the usual Macedonian ensemble. Of antiquity we see no trace, save a few fragments of ancient walls, but it is certain that if excavations were made remains at least of the Byzantine epoch would be unearthed. Amid the variegated Oriental crowd, French and Serbian officers and soldiers strut about, and occasionally a few Senegalese.