The Japanese kept a very keen look-out at sea, and even Chinese junks found great difficulty in slipping past them. Imagine our surprise and delight, when one night a steamer came into Pigeon Bay. The general conjecture was that it had brought machine guns and shell.
We were told that the vessel had brought some supplies, and that my wife had sent me a large quantity of foodstuffs from Tientsin; but Major Dostovalov, the officer in charge of stores and transport, would not tell me what kind they were, or how much there was of them. Everything that had been brought was commandeered by the commissariat staff, and several days passed without a word being said about our presents.
So I went to Major Dostovalov and asked him to let me have what had been sent me.
“Yes, I have got something for you,” he said, “but I have not been able to send it to you yet. If you like, I will give you five Westphalian hams and we will consider everything square, eh?”
I did not expect to get so much as that, I must confess, and my mouth watered at the thought of the five hams.
“Rather,” I said. “I shall be quite satisfied.”
I received my five hams and returned home in triumph.
The officers were even more pleased than I was, and we demolished the hams with the greatest relish, feeling very well disposed towards Major Dostovalov, who had added as I went away: “I am sorry you have come a bit late, Colonel, as I would have let you have more, but I can’t now, as all I have left is for the generals.”
I heard afterwards that my wife had sent me twelve hams, some fruit, sausages, coffee, and so on—300 roubles’[106] worth altogether. So after deducting the five hams I actually received, there was a good deal left, all of which was snapped up by the senior officers.
Though we were rather sore about it, and there was a good deal of grumbling, yet we blamed Major Dostovalov and our Chi-fu Consul (Tiddeman) even more for not sending us some newspapers.