My Ticket for the First Balkan Express to run from
Constantinople To Berlin and Vienna
My ticket for the Balkan Express, the outside of which is reproduced here, is an illustration of German economy and also of German fallibility. Surely a nation that is spending millions of money each day to achieve its object could have afforded the few hundred marks required for printing a special ticket for the Balkan-Zug. The tickets are the old sleeping-car tickets in German, with the words “Balkan-Express” printed across in English. Possibly this is due to a breakdown on the part of the printer entrusted with the preparation of the new ticket, but it would certainly have been more in keeping with German methods had there been prepared not only an elaborate ticket but a souvenir of the journey. It must be remembered that this was the first journey of the Balkan Express west, that is, from Constantinople to Berlin, and consequently it was historic.
After the Banquet I strolled about the town, then going to the railway station gathered together my possessions and waited. The Balkan-Zug was late. Night was upon us before it drew into Nish station, an impressive affair consisting of four sleeping cars, one dining-car, and one ordinary first and second class car. As it steamed into the station the German, Bulgarian, and Austrian National Anthems were played, and King Ferdinand and his two unprepossessing sons entered before the rest of the passengers. This was an interesting event also for the passengers from Constantinople, who leaned out of the windows, keenly interested.
The Kaiser had disappeared immediately after the Banquet, just as the Kaiser always does disappear, suddenly and mysteriously, no one knowing why or whither. Unceremoniously his Bulgarian Majesty climbed into the train, and we, the smaller fry, followed after him, I feeling rather like the camel of whom it is said that his supercilious air is the outcome of knowing the hundredth great secret of the Universe, whereas man knows only ninety-nine.
In the course of the evening King Ferdinand, without ceremony, entered all the compartments in the train and made a few general remarks to each person separately. He seemed desirous of displaying his Royal person. He was a king and a factor in the great political situation, and he seemed equally determined that no one on the Balkan-Zug should be allowed to remain in ignorance of that very important fact.
In the carriage next to mine there was traveling the Baroness von Wangenheim, the widow of the late German Ambassador at Constantinople, and with her were her three little daughters, whom Ferdinand took on his knees and fondled. It was obvious that he was mightily pleased with himself. When he waddled into my compartment we rose, clicked heels, and bowed. He graciously gave us the Royal consent to be seated, and spoke a few words to a Hungarian, who was one of the party, in his own tongue. This man afterwards told me that the King spoke the Hungarian language like a native. It is well known that Ferdinand is an excellent linguist. The other passengers in my compartment were two German flying-men in Turkish uniforms, who with ten others that were in the train had been suddenly recalled from Constantinople to take part, it was said, in forthcoming air raids on England. These raids, by the way, duly took place, and according to German official accounts reduced industrial England to a pile of ruins!
King Ferdinand adopts quite the Kaiser’s method of speech. He accepts the Almighty as an ally. “Thanks to God,” he said, “Who greatly helped us we can travel from West to East through conquered territory in a few days. We are going further. Give my Royal salute to all the people of your home country.” He then withdrew, and we permitted ourselves to relax our spines.
On the Balkan Express the food is infinitely better than can be obtained in Constantinople, Vienna, or Berlin. It may almost be said of the Germans that they have one eye on God and the other eye on advertisement in case of accidents. I felt convinced that the food on the Balkan Express was superior merely for advertising purposes. Bread-tickets are unknown, and for a mark I had an early breakfast of coffee, rolls, butter and marmalade without stint.