But the situation grew worse. The Serbs along the seacoasts were pressed harder and harder by the Austrians and by Albanian bands. Besides, the transporting to Tunis was too slow when the progress of the enemy was considered. Finally the appearance of typhus and cholera rendered more dangerous the removal of the unfortunate troops to a great distance. A new plan was arranged. The remaining Serbs were to be transported not into Tunis, which was so far away, but to a land as near as possible to the scene of disaster. Corfu was there; Corfu, only sixty miles away from the farthest point of debarkation; Corfu, whose climate was marvelously suited to the recovery of sick men; Corfu which offered a very safe harbor. It was decided to occupy Corfu, prepare the island, transport the entire Serbian Army thither and assure that this army would be built up there. And France was charged with carrying out this operation.
On the seventh of January, 1916, the first French organization of ten trawlers set out from Malta to make a preliminary reconnoissance around Corfu, to drag for mines and to clear out the submarines. A second flotilla followed it forty-eight hours later. On the eighth of January the armored cruisers Edgar Quinet, Waldeck-Rousseau, Ernest Renan, Jules Ferry and five torpedo boats, which were located at Bizerta, received orders to embark a battalion of Alpine chasseurs with their arms, baggage and mules and to take up their positions to be ready at the first signal.
On the night of the tenth, the French consul at Corfu woke up the Greek prefect in order to announce to him the imminent arrival of our squadron and what it was going to do. After he had received the formal protest of this functionary, he went down to the port, where there was no longer any doubt in anyone's mind of what was going to happen. With him went guides and automobiles to finish everything quickly before the Germans could offer any opposition. Some minutes later, on time at the rendezvous agreed upon, the French cruisers came into the harbor and immediately disembarked their contingent of Alpine Chasseurs. Before daybreak the principal vantage points as well as the most important positions on the island were occupied. Suspected persons were seized in their beds, a doubtful post of T. S. F. was seized also. Corfu, which went to sleep half German, woke up entirely French to the tune of the martial music that was to inform the inhabitants of the little change that had taken place over night.
The question remained of Achilleion, the property of William of Germany, which was about nine miles from the city. If Achilleion had been a French property and German soldiers had paid a visit, what pillage, what defilement, what orgies there would have been!
But Achilleion was a German property, and the French have a method of procedure that is peculiarly their own. This is what happened, according to the narrative of a young naval officer who was on the spot:
At four o'clock in the morning an automobile set out from the dock, carrying a squad of twelve marine fusilliers under the command of one of the ship's lieutenants. A half hour later he presented himself at the gate of the palace and demanded that he be admitted. There was no response. He was insistent. Finally a door opened and an angry voice cried out in the darkness: "This isn't the time for visitors." For the owner, who found that there are no such things as small profits, permitted a visit for the sum of two francs per person. Surprised, the occupant of the palace submitted, and our detachment entered Achilleion, whose occupants it assembled—the watchman and two red-haired chambermaids—en déshabillé, also a mechanic and an entomologist who wore spectacles. Pale with fear, the latter threw himself on his knees before the officer. "If I must die, I ask that it may be here," said he. He was left in peace. A company of the Chasseurs arrived and the marines, with their lanterns in their hands, went back to the ships. The Tricolor floated over the Kaiser's villa, which was to become a hospital for the Serbs.
At eleven o'clock in the morning it was all over, and the French cruisers put out to sea on the return trip to Bizerta.
But the easiest thing had been done. The most difficult was about to begin. It was not only a question of occupying Corfu; it was also a matter of arranging to receive a worn-out and decimated army. It was a difficult task that many would have judged out of the question. Everything was lacking; there was nothing on hand.
A writer on naval matters, who has been the historian of the French Navy in this war, M. Emile Vedel, has painted in the pages of Illustration an unheard-of and unique picture of what this preparation of Corfu consisted: