One afternoon a German said to me, “If the English and French only knew, the proper place to kill Germans is between Nieuport in Belgium and Mülhausen in Alsace; but owing to their inferior staff work, lack of munitions, fear of our guns, gas, mines, and machine-guns, they leave us comparatively quiet in the Western theatre, and enable us to menace the line of communication to India and the ridiculous Townshend Expedition, which will never get to Baghdad.”
There is among the German officers a general contempt for the English and French, particularly the English, staff work. At the Sachim Pasha Hotel in Stamboul I encountered a pleasant old Turk who spoke French extremely well. He was the Vali of Baghdad (a sort of Justice of the Peace, I believe), who had come to report to the Germans the condition of the English and Turkish forces. What he said was practically a repetition of what Enver had said to me a few days previously about Gallipoli: “We were very alarmed when we heard they were coming,” he remarked, “for our defences were in a bad condition, and we had nothing but a few old guns. Our spies, however told us that General Townshend’s force was a small one, and we therefore took courage and held the English in check until we could get our reinforcements; now, thanks to Allah, they will never reach our holy city, their relief force is too late.”
It is not for me to offer advice to the British Government. As I have said, I love the country just as I hate the Germans, but I wish the British Ministers could appreciate how often the term “too late,” in connection with the operations of the Allies, has cropped up during this journey of mine.
The German authorities in Constantinople were urged by the people at Baghdad to send every available man there, whereas the immediate wish of the Turks is to get to the Suez Canal and so regain their fair province of Egypt and the Nile. Turkish sentiment combined with German hatred of England may probably precipitate the immediate advance on the Canal. I have been told frequently since my return to England that this is impossible, that it is only “bluff.” I remember the same things being said when Enver Pasha announced, months ago, that the Germans were coming to relieve Constantinople. My own opinion—which, of course, may be worth nothing, but it is formed as the result of talking to scores of Turks and Germans in Constantinople and Asia Minor—is that unless there be great combined efforts in France by the British and French, and in the Caucasus by the Russians, the Germans and Turks may achieve one—at least one—of their three objects, possibly two, perhaps all three even. The determining factors are the pressure by the hated British Navy and greater activity in France, Belgium, and Russia.
At four o’clock every afternoon the German officers, who are constantly arriving from Berlin at the Pera Palace Hotel to receive their instructions, remove their military clothes and appear in mufti. Here again we have evidence of German subtlety. No man in the world loves his uniform as does the German officer, but, as one waggish Bavarian lieutenant said to me, “We must not give the Turks the impression that we are a flight of German locusts. We do not want the Galata Bridge to look like Unter den Linden all the time, so as soon as we have finished our duty we go about as civilians.” They are wise. Constantinople already looks quite German enough; that is, to Turkish eyes. There are German newspapers printed in the city, there are the crews of the Goeben and Breslau wearing the Turkish fez, and of the submarines, and swarms of miscellaneous Germans, all with their particular object in view. These facts in themselves are enough to cause misgiving in the heart of the most pronouncedly pro-German Turk. My own impression is that whatever may be the result of the war the Germans are getting such a hold on the Near East that it will be next to impossible to drive them out. Money is scarce in Germany, but the Germans seem to have plenty to spend in Turkey and Asia Minor.
CHAPTER VI
I VISIT ASIA MINOR
A Remarkable Railway Station—I Leave for Konia—The Anatolian Railway—How to Get to Baghdad—Elaborate Instructions—Necessity for Caution—English and French Prisoners—Instructing the Turk in the Arts of Peace—A Noisy Sleeper—Hamburg’s Hatred of Great Britain—Sops to Austria and Turkey—Field-Marshal Von der Goltz—I Return to Constantinople.