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Chapter 36 : The Last Letter
After the heated argument with Erskine, Samson went immediately from the Legation to the house of Achilles’ sister-in-law. Anna had been crying before she answered the door and hastily wiped her eyes with the tail of her threadbare apron. Her expression was a mixture of curiosity and contempt. The problem of language separated them as much as the disgust she felt for him and the pity he wished to extend to her. Samson’s Greek, which had progressed only slightly since the previous year, was still far from fluent, while Anna had no more than a smattering of English. As best he could, the Major explained that he owed her brother-in-law some money for work he had performed and that, knowing the danger, he had asked that, if anything should happen to him, the money was to go to Anna. Samson held out an envelope, bulging with notes. ‘This mine?’ Anna inquired. Samson tried to explain again: the money was hers to keep. She looked at the Major again, not knowing what to do. The silence soon became embarrassing. Samson muttered how sorry he was and that he hoped the money would make life somewhat easier for her and her children. He turned to walk away. ‘You wait please!’ Anna called after him, as she disappeared inside the house, emerging a few seconds later with an envelope firmly clutched in her hands. ‘Is his — is yours now.’ Samson took the envelope and thanked her. He could not, at first, bring himself to open the envelope. Every time he looked at it he was tormented by the vision of the butchered body. He returned to his room in Academy Street, propped the envelope up on the chest of drawers, lay back on the bed, and took a deep swig from his flask. It seared his throat. He looked out the window, to the clouds resting wearily on top of Lycabettus before continuing their journey to nowhere. When he could take no more, he rose, retrieved the envelope, and walked over to the window so that he could see the German Legation as he opened it. At that moment, Quadt himself walked up the stairs, beaming. Major Samson tore at the envelope: from it fell two sheets of paper. One was a copy of another signal removed from the German Legation, the existence of which Achilles had not previously divulged; the other sheet was a letter addressed to the Major. “Friday 7 August 1914 Major — I think I have been followed since last night. I will go to the house tonight as arranged with you but if something should happen I have left this last telegram with Anna to give to you. When you have read it, you will see why I did not reveal it last night. If true, it means that the British Admiral knows the truth. Yet if this is so, you would have told me. So, I think he is keeping quiet for some reason. As you can now arrange for the German ships to be destroyed, it does not matter. Do not believe the threat of the last sentence. I have heard them, Quadt and the others, speaking. They know there is nothing they can do. But it would be better if it could be arranged so that Greece is not blamed for the destruction of the ships. War achieves nothing. The King is right to want peace. Achilles” Samson read the copy of the German telegram experiencing, as he did so, a sense of elation. He neatly folded it and placed it in his pocketbook. So, Achilles had triumphed over Hoffmann after all.
Lionel
Samson spent the morning of Friday, 14 August busily engaged on various tasks at
the Legation while he waited for a reply to the signal he had sent to the
Admiralty in “Athens, August 9, 1914 Dft Mr Erskine to Sir E Grey Tel. No. 140 Secret sent 11.45 a.m. Petersburg Tel. No. 247
Information is correct.
I
am in constant communication with Intelligence Officer Malta respecting
movements of German ships of war referred to & am being Samson knew that the draft had been prepared by Rendel; and he also knew that George would never have struck out Kerr’s name unless the Admiral, or Erskine, had ordered him to. This must have been the trap he had set for Kerr. Samson was gratified that George had done his best to arrive at the truth. Later that afternoon, the Major was ushered into Venizelos’ office in the National Assembly. As he entered, he passed George Melas leaving hurriedly. Melas smiled gratuitously. ‘Leaving so soon?’ Samson asked cheerfully. ‘Perhaps you would care to hear what I have to say?’ ‘What you have to say does not interest me, Mister Samson, and I am required at the Palace.’ ‘A pity. I am sure the Premier will keep you informed.’ If Samson had even slightly punctured the monstrous ego, and set Melas to wondering what he might now be up to, he had achieved his purpose. Venizelos would have been fully briefed, Samson thought to himself. In all probability, Melas had told the Premier that the blundering English Major did not know anything which he had not been told by Melas himself, and that he had only come to cause trouble and find out what else he could learn. ‘Ah, Major Samson, and what can I do for you before you leave?’ Venizelos was all false effusiveness. Samson paused intentionally. He did not want to launch immediately into a catalogue of accusations and inspired guesses. Better still to speak deliberately and in general terms at first. ‘I know of the events of last week, Your Excellency.’ ‘Knowledge is a dangerous thing, Major, particularly in the wrong hands. And what is it you think you know? Tell me and I will prove to you that you are either mistaken or that your knowledge has no relevance.’
‘At some time during Tuesday of last week a
telegram was received from Berlin which contained a report of an alliance
between Turkey and Germany and which revealed the destination of the German
ships in the Mediterranean. That telegram was seen by yourself, by the King, and
by Admiral Kerr. And yet, as we now know, the German ships made good their
escape. I have heard Admiral Kerr’s explanation, which I will put to you
before I ask for yours. It is this: had the German ships been intercepted as a
result of this impulsive telegram from the German Emperor there would have been
serious repercussions for Greece when the King is desperate to keep his country
out of this present war. I accept that explanation in so far as it goes, and
also the fact that Admiral Kerr made at least two efforts to alert Admiral Milne
while at the same time attempting to disguise the source of his information. As
is now apparent, he succeeded in this attempt to disguise the source so well
that the information was not acted upon. I also know that, since then, he has
made an effort to deny his involvement entirely in the escape. His conscience is
starting to work on him already. But let us see if you have a conscience? What
did you do with your new-found
information? You certainly didn’t tell Erskine when you saw him the following
morning. Oh, yes, you referred to a “military convention” — why did you
not call it by its proper name, an “alliance”? And why did you not refer to Goeben
once? If that was as far as it went, perhaps I could grace your conduct by
ascribing to it the same motives as the King, which at least might be construed
as honourable. But you went one step further. When you could easily have
refused, in view of the official prohibition, nevertheless you willingly
supplied coal to the German Admiral. This could only have been because you wanted
him to escape. You make no secret of your leanings towards England and France
yet you conspire in an act which can only cause them harm.’ Venizelos breathed more easily. If this was all the Major had, it could easily be brushed aside. ‘I expected the German ships to be interned,’ he answered emphatically. ‘When you have just learned that there is a secret alliance between Germany and Turkey? You will have to do better than that.’ ‘Very well, where is your proof?’ Venizelos demanded. ‘Here — a little man of no consequence died to obtain this; but, as Melas has only just left, I am sure you know that already. This man refused to hand this over when he had the chance to because he could not believe you were implicated. If he had done so it might have made a difference. I will make it my duty to see that you are called to account for it.’ Samson handed the Premier the copy of the telegram he had obtained from Anna. “Berlin, 4 p.m., August 5, 1914 Jagow to Quadt Secret Tel. No. 231. His Imperial Majesty, in conversation with M. Theotokis yesterday, alluded to an alliance which had been concluded between Germany and Turkey, and to the fact that the German ships in the Mediterranean are about to unite themselves with the Turkish Fleet in order that they may act together. In doing so, His Imperial Majesty went further than prudence demanded, in view of the position of the English Admiral in His Majesty King Constantine’s service. You are therefore to speak in general terms to His Excellency M. Venizelos, pointing out that the alliance is no more than a military pact, as dictated by the work of the German Military Mission in Constantinople, and denying any knowledge of the whereabouts and destination of the German ships. If necessary, refer to the impulsiveness for which His Imperial Majesty is renown. If His Excellency refuses to accept this explanation, warn M. Venizelos that any misfortune befalling the German ships, and which can definitely be ascribed to a lapse of neutrality on the part of Greece, will be viewed as an unfriendly act, which would inevitably lead to consequences of a most serious nature.” Venizelos tossed the paper aside. ‘This proves nothing,’ he spat. ‘In fact, it exonerates me. Here is the evidence that Quadt deliberately, on instructions from Berlin, sought to plant doubts. You can also see from the last sentence the threat which was uttered.’ Samson pounced: ‘The time! Look at the time! Your agent, Melas, was undone in a similar fashion. That cable was received after you had spoken to Erskine in general terms about the “military convention”. If you had told Erskine all that you knew on Wednesday, and had then retracted your statement in view of the alleged threat, you could be accused of no more than seeking to protect your country, even if we both know the threat to have been an empty one. But I do not believe the threat was ever made. Quadt had no reason to resort to it — you were already quite content to mislead Erskine on your own account. Since the receipt of the German Emperor’s message on Tuesday, you had had almost a full day to work things out. It was then that you decided to let the ships escape. It would have been a simple matter as well, had Souchon not been prematurely forced out of Messina before he had had a chance to fill his bunkers. All you had to do was to keep quiet and the escape would have succeeded with no-one being the wiser as to your part in it. How you must have reacted when Quadt knocked on your door at two o’clock in the morning demanding the release of the German coal at Piraeus.’ ‘And where is your proof of that, Major, if I may ask?’ ‘My informant is dead, as you know. But there is one thing you could not know: I, myself, saw Quadt leave the Legation that night; I, myself, saw Bogados being loaded with the coal; and, if it comes to that, I, myself, saw the coal being transhipped to Goeben in Rusa Bay, on Denusa — not Syra, as you would have our authorities believe.’
‘Now, what is this: a new accusation?’ ‘Not only did you supply the coal, you then sought to mislead the Admiralty in London in your attempt to escape censure for supplying the coal yourself. And this time I do have proof. I obtained this from London earlier this afternoon. It is a copy of an intercept which was received in the Admiralty War Room last Sunday.’ Samson handed Venizelos the latest incriminating evidence. “Telephone Messages Received by Chief Censor R.T. from Chief Censor War Office Time:— 12.25 p.m. Date:— 9th August 1914 The following message has been intercepted by W.O. Censor:— To:— Warplume, London From:—Metriticicas, Athens ‘…informed Goeben anchored Syra asked to coal — do not know if demand will be agreed to following decision of Government to appropriate all available coal.’ ” ‘As you are doubtless aware,’ Samson continued, ‘I can prove that Metriticicas was your agent. You set about to lay a false trail and, from what I can gather, succeeded admirably. The fake message about Syra was sent to Milne who knew it must be dubious as Hastings on Syra would never have failed to report something as sensational as the presence of a German battle cruiser; but Milne could not afford to ignore it. And so, another day was lost.’ ‘Well, Major, and what are you going to do with your accusations?’ Venizelos showed not the slightest concern. ‘Nothing — what good would it do now? I just want to know why? Was it worth it? If you succeed, will it have been worth the life of a single Greek?’ ‘The reason why, Major, is a consideration of high policy. It is a matter for your Mr Churchill and Sir Edward Grey. You would do best to return to Constantinople — that is where you are based, is it not? — and forget what you have heard and seen here.’ ‘Constantinople … ’ Samson whispered. Venizelos ostentatiously picked up a dispatch from his desk and began to read through it. ‘Constantinople,’ Samson repeated. ‘That is what this is all about.’ The Greek Premier did no more than lift an eye from the contemplation of the paper in front of him. ‘So Kerr was wrong after all. But of course, you didn’t trust him! And he could easily be diverted with the bogus Adramyti plan.’ ‘Not bogus, I assure you — a plan I still hope to put into operation.’ ‘There is more to it than that. You want war between Greece and Turkey, but you want it on your terms. I know of your desire for Smyrna, but Constantinople is the real prize! However you dare not attack with the Bulgarians, uncommitted, on your flank. Your army could be cut off completely by a Bulgarian attack. So you engineer a crisis. The German ships make good their escape and are sheltered, as you know they will be, and not interned by the Turks. Here is the proof that the Turks have departed from neutrality. Then, a stroke of good fortune for you, the German ships are sold to Turkey. What better proof is there that the Turks are playing a double game! You can, if you have not already done so, make an offer to London. How will it proceed: “To Sir Edward Grey: Greece is anxious to enter the war and place at Your Excellency’s disposal her entire force, but will need protecting from danger posed by Bulgaria, whose attitude remains ambivalent.” ’
At last Venizelos looked startled: ‘How could you
possibly … ’ ‘Know that that is what you intend? I didn’t, although I do now. You see, a pattern has emerged from your dire threats and predictions. Having offered your services, and with it the prospect of opening a new front to tie down the Turco-German forces, England and France then guarantee your northern border, leaving your army free to march on Smyrna initially, so Kerr gets to implement the Adramyti Plan. But it doesn’t stop there. The Turks are fully committed elsewhere, on other fronts, fighting the Russians in the Caucasus, the French in Syria, and the British in Mesopotamia, and you have any easy time of it, so you push on, and on, north to the Dardanelles, eastwards ever further into Anatolia. Constantinople beckons. And here we come to the final part of the scheme: how to keep the Russians at bay, for they have made no secret of their desire to occupy Constantinople. But they can only do this from the sea, and now with Goeben and Breslau added to the Turkish Fleet, the Russian Black Sea Fleet is no longer powerful enough and cannot be reinforced. Unless, that is, the Russians should attempt to dismantle their Baltic Fleet, transport it overland, and reconstruct it! No, the Russians cannot take Constantinople from the sea, but your army can, from the land; and, once you have captured the city, the Turkish fleet becomes yours. Still the Russians are to be denied. It is a brilliant scheme, I grant you. The escape of the German ships brings England and France in on your side while also denying the Russians the great prize they have long sought. I cannot see how Sir Edward could resist it — oh, he won’t know of the Constantinople part of the plan, of course — but the offer of three Greek divisions will be accepted with alacrity. And what will you offer Churchill: the Greek Fleet and the use of a few good harbours?’ Venizelos slammed his fist down on the desk. ‘You will be disowned Mister Samson, if you once report your hysterical conjectures as fact. I have already spoken to Mr Erskine on the subject of your investigations and he is weary of your continual interference in his domain. Go back to Constantinople and get on with your job; do not meddle in events that do not concern you. I will add a word of warning — do not speak out of turn. The fate which befell the porter at the German Legation could be yours also. I am not speaking on my own behalf. You know too much for the Germans to be comfortable with the fact of your continued existence. Go now, and don’t look back.’ The Major stared hard at the unblinking face and knew that there was nothing more to say. He now, instead, had to concentrate on saving himself. It would be another two days before the Italian steamer departed for Constantinople. As it was common knowledge that this was the only service still operating out of Greece he could think of no alternative but locking himself in a cabin with his revolver at the ready, waiting for the inevitable. He was confident that no attempt would be made on his life while he remained in Athens: there would be too many awkward questions posed. However, should he be found dead in his cabin, once the Italian steamer had docked at the Golden Horn, it then became a problem for the Turkish and Italian authorities. In the time that remained to him, there was one last piece of the puzzle he had to complete: the continued silence of Geroulanos. The Major was surprised to be granted an appointment; it would be the first time they had met since the field hospital in Avret Hissar. Either Geroulanos was of the opinion that Samson could no longer harm him, or he, too, sought to resolve some private enigma of his own. Samson was shocked when he was ushered into the Professor’s room at the University: his jet black hair had turned grey. In doing so it had removed at a stroke much that had seemed menacing about him. Samson had meant to open the conversation by thanking Geroulanos properly for his life-saving surgery, but found himself temporarily struck dumb by the change in the doctor’s physical appearance. ‘I have aged much in a year, Major, but I am pleased to see that you look in good health.’ ‘I am sorry, Professor, excuse my lapse of manners. I should say, of course, how grateful I am to you … ’ ‘There is no need, Major. So much has happened since then, has it not? We are all different now.’
‘I trust you will forgive me if I raise a subject
we might otherwise prefer to forget?’ ‘I know why you have come, Major — the death of Triantafyllakos. It has preyed on my conscience greatly over the past year. Let me say at once that his death was an accident. An unexpected adverse reaction to a narcotic drug.’ ‘So you admit your part in his death?’ Samson had not thought that Geroulanos would so readily admit his guilt. ‘To you privately, I do; though it would be impossible to prove. In any event the investigation has long since been closed and will not be re-opened. It would be extremely embarrassing for certain people.’ ‘The missing report?’ queried Samson. ‘Yes, the missing report. I have it, as you surmise. I have carried it around with me ever since that night.’ Samson leaned forward. ‘Yes, Major, I know you would like to read it.’ ‘Only to satisfy my own curiosity, you understand. I am leaving on Sunday for Constantinople; my work in Athens is finished.’ ‘I generally keep myself to myself, Major, but I still hear things, and I know that your departure is common knowledge. I trust you have taken precautions? I would not want my excellent surgical handiwork wasted.’ ‘My Legation has all but disowned me and there is only one steamer I am able to catch. There are few precautions I can take, other than the obvious ones.’ Samson reached into his pocket and withdrew the revolver he had retrieved from Rendel. ‘However, it is impossible to be on guard twenty-four hours a day.’ Samson had almost reached the stage where he no longer cared if Hoffmann caught up with him. He was consumed by his own thoughts as Geroulanos handed him the copy of the missing report. It was impossible for Samson to decipher: written in Greek in a minuscule hand, and he was forced to hand it back to Geroulanos to translate. ‘Shall I read it all?’ the Professor asked. ‘No, the conclusion alone will do.’ Geroulanos began without even referring to the paper:
“…It
is beyond doubt, therefore, that not one, but two, warnings were received. The
first through semi-official channels (the report of Kallerges from
Constantinople) and the second through the German Legation in Athens to a Greek
agent working for them (code name “Metriticicas”). While it is
understandable that the first warning might have been ignored, the second
warning was unequivocal and should have been acted upon. That it was not was
entirely due to the scheme hatched by this Metriticicas. This traitor, for that
is what he is, has formulated, with his superior, an audacious plan which will
inevitably lead to war. It is a war his superior has been working for, for five
years. If it succeeds it will not necessarily make Greece stronger; if it fails,
Greece may well be destroyed. I have been unable to ascertain precisely what
part Metriticicas played in the assassination. However, his identity is now
known to me. I am convinced that he is none other than George Melas, the new
King’s Private Secretary. It is clear from the newspaper accounts that Melas
witnessed the incident at the Palace gates involving Skinas and, indeed, spoke
personally to Skinas at the time. Skinas was escorted away swearing to avenge
the insult. Was this the seed that was to bear such monstrous fruit? According
to his subsequent testimony, Skinas implicates Professor Geroulanos, for
providing motivation; however I can find no evidence to substantiate this claim.
Geroulanos is well known for his pro-German activities, yet, in this instant,
this serves to exonerate him, as it is clear that Berlin did not want the
assassination attempt to proceed. On the other hand, Melas and Skinas were
observed together on a number of occasions after the incident at the Palace,
when it was felt expedient to follow the malcontent’s movements. If that were
all, I would speculate that Melas was motivated by his own personal desire to
become Private Secretary to a King, even if this seems a slender thread upon
which to hang such a deed. I am now convinced that any such thread would snap.
My source within the German Legation has supplied certain information, which,
when combined with what I have learned elsewhere, leads me to the conclusion,
therefore, based on all the facts I have presented that Metriticicas is employed
by Premier Venizelos. For Venizelos’ scheme to work he needs to show that
there exists a schism between his Government and the Palace. He needs to use the
threat of German influence, through the new King, to exert pressure upon London
and Paris. At the same time, he can use the fortuitous expedient of the prophecy
to prepare his people for the attempt to conquer Asiatic Turkey and capture
Constantinople. Whether there were direct orders from the Premier I cannot say;
but there is no doubt that the assassination suited Venizelos admirably.
Perhaps, after all, Skinas acted on impulse. Yet I cannot escape the conclusion
that George Melas and, through him, Eleutherios Venizelos were implicated in the
conspiracy.”
Geroulanos
carefully folded the report and was about to return it to his pocketbook when
Samson asked if he could see it again. The creases in the folds of the paper
were so worn that the paper had torn and the ink had been rubbed off on either
side. Geroulanos had clearly read and re-read the report over the preceding
year; indeed, Samson thought, considering how fluently he had translated the
tatty document, the Professor must have committed most of it to memory. Samson
could only discern a word here and a word there, but he was sure that Geroulanos
had translated accurately. ‘This report exonerates you,’ he said, handing it back. ‘I was not to know, you see. How could I have known? Why did he not hand over the report when I asked him for it?’ ‘I think that is quite obvious. Once he had presented this report, he knew he had signed his own death warrant. I can only assume that he was going to make plans to have his copy of it published in the event of his death. Your misguided intervention prevented that. There is one thing, however, I do not understand. The report clears you and would be fatal to Venizelos — why did you not seek to publish it?’ ‘How was I to have obtained it? How was I to have explained away the death of Triantafyllakos?’ ‘You could have arranged to have it published anonymously.’ ‘The scandal, don’t you see, the scandal? Even the fact that I am named in the report is too much. I have my reputation to consider. It must remain my secret. I have saved many lives in the course of my career, Major, including your own. And, as you say, Triantafyllakos was doomed from the time he signed his name to that report.’ ‘You can’t draw up a balance sheet where murder is involved,’ Samson protested. ‘Still, I am grateful for my own life. I wish, however, you had not interceded. Had I known of the true identity of Metriticicas it might have changed everything. You can have no idea of the harm you have done. The German ships … ’ ‘Would have escaped in any event. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it. There were too many strands to this conspiracy: Venizelos, Melas, Constantine, even your own Admiral Kerr. The motives might have differed; the result would remain the same. Besides, there was one player in the game you could not have counted on, simply because you did not know of his existence. I, myself, was unaware of his true allegiance until recently, when I chanced to overhear a conversation between Quadt and Bassewitz (yes: I am still occasionally admitted in to their counsels). It was he, whose identity you could not begin to guess at, who arranged for a fake signal to be sent from your own Admiralty to draw your Admiral Milne off the scent when it looked like he might finally bring Souchon to action. The short war with Austria was fortuitous for Souchon, was it not?’ ‘A spy in the Admiralty?’ Samson was bewildered. ‘I have said too much already. I want only a quiet life. And now, you will have to excuse me.’ Realizing that it would be useless to press Geroulanos further, Samson stood, ready to depart. Had Geroulanos been telling the truth, or was it another lie, to cast seeds of doubt? He had a final question: ‘There is one other thing: when you already had the report, why spend a year in Leipzig?’ ‘I felt it wise to let events run their course. Also, I was not the only one interested in the contents of that report. There was someone else watching the house that night; I am convinced of it. Whoever had the report had the fate of the Government in his hands. Triantafyllakos said he was not surprised to see me that night; I believe he was lying. Oh yes, he was expecting someone that night — but not me; it was someone he genuinely feared.’
‘Hoffmann?’ The Professor showed Samson to the door.
By arrangement, Captain Alfred Hoffmann went out with the pilot boat and boarded the SS Sardegna before she entered the harbour. To avoid being noticed while the ship remained tied up at the dock, he kept to his cabin, remaining there until nightfall, by which time the steamer had cleared the harbour, rounded Cape Colonnes and set course, north-east, for the Dardanelles. He soon obtained the number of Samson’s cabin from the purser and approached it silently. This would be too easy, he thought; he had hoped for more of a challenge. He knocked on the door. There was no answer. He knocked again. Silence. He tried the handle. The catch retracted with a click and he pushed the door open. Darkness. This would be far too easy. His eyes adjusted to the lack of light as he raised his Mauser and pointed it towards the bed. When he fired the first shot the unshaded light was switched on behind him, blinding him temporarily, as a heavy metal object crashed down on his right wrist, forcing him to release his gun. He turned, raising his left hand to shield his eyes. It was Captain Gavronis of the Athens’ police. ‘Herr Alfred Hoffmann, I am arresting you for the murder of John Travlos, formerly the porter at the German Legation.’ ‘You cannot! I protest. We are outside Greek territorial waters.’ ‘My Government has laid claim to a ten-mile limit, Herr Hoffmann, and we are within that distance from the island of Andros.’ ‘This is an Italian ship; you have no authority.’ ‘There is my authority,’ replied Gavronis, pointing through the porthole to the flaming funnel of a Greek torpedo boat off the steamer’s port bow. At Gavronis’ instructions, the steamer put in briefly at Andros to off-load the policeman and his prisoner. By this time Major Lionel Samson who, early on Sunday had caught the train to Patras from where he boarded another Italian steamer, was halfway to Brindisi, on his journey back to London to present his findings.
On 19 August 1914, William Erskine sent the following cable to Sir Edward Grey: “M. Venizelos came to see me last night and, with full approval of King and Cabinet, formally placed at disposal of Entente Powers all the naval and military resources of Greece from the moment when they might be required. He knew resources of Greece were small, but 250,000 troops she could dispose of, her navy and ports may be of some use, and he suggested that, in case of necessity, 50,000 Greek troops could be sent to Egypt to keep order. The offer would remain open, and until it were accepted, it must remain a profound secret.” Sir Edward, who only that morning had had a long meeting with Lionel Samson, thanked the Greek Premier for his offer, but declined to avail himself of it, lest complications should arise. Neutrality, he declared, would be the best option for Greece. Three days later, acting on instructions from the highest authority within their Government, the Greek police were ordered to release Captain Alfred Hoffmann into the custody of the German Legation; all charges against him were dropped.
Mark Kerr had unexpectedly had reason to be grateful for Samson’s escape. Since the Major’s return to London and the shock refusal of the Greek offer things had quietened considerably in Athens. There had been no more talk of intervention in the war and the Admiral had been able to turn his attention to the development of a fully fledged Greek naval air service. By the beginning of September his plans were well advanced, and then the cable arrived from Churchill. Although the Turks had not yet entered the war, they continued to mobilize and Churchill was sure that, in a matter of weeks, they would show their true colours. Kerr had read and re-read the cable until the words had lost their meaning. “The right and obvious method of attacking Turkey, should she enter the war allied to Germany,” Churchill had cabled, “is to strike immediately at the heart. To do this, it would be necessary for a Greek army to seize the Gallipoli Peninsula under superiority of sea predominance, and thus open the Dardanelles, admitting the Anglo-Greek Fleet to the Sea of Marmora, whence the Turco-German ships can be fought and sunk, and where in combination with the Russian Black Sea Fleet and Russian military forces the whole situation can be dominated. Admiralty wish that these conceptions should be immediately examined by the Greek naval and military experts in consultation with you. They wish to know at once the general views of the Greek Government upon this enterprise, and what force they think would be necessary on the assumption that safe transportation is assured. To what extent and in what time could Greece provide the necessary transports, or should we do so? Or what are their alternative suggestions? You should report fully to the Admiralty by telegraph.” It would require only minor alterations to the Adramyti plan for it to be able succeed against the Dardanelles, a fact which was probably known to Venizelos and his military advisers. This time it appeared the game really was up for continued Greek neutrality; Kerr arranged an appointment with the Premier. The mutual loathing felt by the Admiral and Venizelos had developed to the extent that all their meetings had to be attended by an observer. On this occasion, Kerr asked to be accompanied by Rendel. When shown the dispatch from Churchill, Venizelos was unable to disguise his elation. The question of Russian co-operation would require careful consideration, he thought to himself, but he was convinced he could get round Churchill. And, if Russian participation could be shelved, Constantinople still beckoned. The conversation proceeded along predictable lines, during which Kerr fancied that his plan to keep Greece neutral would never succeed. When it came time, when Venizelos was convinced that his goal, the conquest of Asia Minor, could now be obtained after all, Kerr produced the letter from his pocketbook — it was his last throw of the dice. ‘There is one thing Your Excellency,’ Kerr declared portentously. ‘I am concerned about the position with regard to Bulgaria. Mr Fitzmaurice, the British Agent, is currently in Sofia and, as you can see from his secret report, the Bulgarians are amassing great forces on our northern border. I leave the decision to you, of course; however, I must state my opinion on the inadvisability of committing all our troops to the Dardanelles, thus leaving Macedonia undefended.’ Venizelos fumed to Rendel: ‘You have seen this secret report?’ ‘Yes, Your Excellency.’ The acting Second Secretary, having been made aware of Venizelos’ actions by Samson, was no longer in thrall to the Premier. ‘And what is your opinion?’ Venizelos inquired anxiously. ‘Bulgarian neutrality is a sham. It must, I fear, remain a gamble as to whether the Bulgarians will take advantage of the situation wherein your army is committed elsewhere.’
Venizelos did not miss the note of caution in
Rendel’s voice. He could not afford to be too impatient in the presence of the
British representative: ‘This requires careful consideration, gentlemen. The
ideal solution would be for the Bulgarians to attack Turkey at the same time,
would it not? Then we could share out the Turkish territory between us?’ ‘An excellent suggestion, Your Excellency,’ Admiral Kerr noted. ‘I am sure Mr Rendel agrees.’ George Rendel, aware that he now was in a position to control events, nodded sagely. ‘But who,’ he announced after a time, ‘is to say that the Bulgarians will keep their word.’ That evening, Kerr replied to Churchill: “Following from Admiral Kerr to First Lord of the Admiralty. I have consulted with Greek General Staff on the subject of your telegram. They are of opinion, and I agree, that force at disposal of Greece is sufficient to take Gallipoli if Bulgaria does not attack Greece. It is not sufficient guarantee for Bulgaria to undertake to remain neutral. They will not trust her unless she also attacks Turkey at the same time with all her force. The plan for taking the Straits of the Dardanelles is ready if above conditions obtain. Greece has sufficient transports to convey troops. Assistance of a British squadron of two battle-cruisers, one armoured cruiser, three light cruisers and flotilla of destroyers and mine-sweepers will be needed. This plan was originally made out by General Staff and myself without outside assistance, but since Turkey has mobilised and obtained German ships operation has become greater.” When, the following day, he was shown a copy of the telegram by Sir Francis Elliot, who had now returned from his leave, Venizelos threatened to demand the immediate recall of Kerr; until, that is, the Admiral was backed up in his recollection of the meeting with the Premier by George Rendel. It was the least, Rendel considered, he could do for Major Samson. But the receipt of the cable from Kerr was also to cause problems in London. Not with the Foreign Office, who were delighted to be free of Greek entanglements: ‘The condition as regards Bulgaria,’ Sir Edward Grey had carefully noted, ‘is entirely impracticable. Sir F. Elliot is to be informed that the question of Greek participation is to be dropped.’ No, it was in the Admiralty that Kerr’s message was received with dismay. A few days later, as Turkey maintained her increasingly tenuous grip on neutrality, Winston Churchill summoned Prince Louis of Battenberg to the First Lord’s office. Spread out before Churchill lay a large scale map of the Dardanelles.
‘Have you seen this?’ Churchill inquired,
handing a sheaf of papers to Battenberg: ‘Cunliffe-Owen’s report? As long as
it were possible to avoid the mines, he claims, there would be little difficulty
in running past the shore defences and steaming for Constantinople to take up a
commanding position off Stamboul, thereby cutting off all military movements
between the European and Asiatic shores. And yet he is against a purely naval
enterprise, except as an emergency measure to afford Russia immediate
assistance. Although it would probably succeed, he says, there would be little
permanent effect unless the Russians participated in a fleet action or effected
landings; in addition, to command the situation properly at Dardanelles, would
require the use of military force and — what are his precise words,’
Churchill retrieved the document and searched for the offending paragraph ‘
— “point arises whether substantial enterprises should be attempted in quite
a subsidiary theatre of war. Moreover military operations against Turks would be
far easier in Persian Gulf or Syria where Turkish forces are almost negligible.
Should decision be eventually taken for a fleet movement I need hardly impress
that for local reasons there should be no mistake as to rapidity of execution
and minimum risk of failure.” A subsidiary theatre indeed! Naturally Mallet
backs him up: “I am much impressed by Military Attaché’s views respecting
inadequacy of naval action alone, for supposing that our fleet came in and went
into the Black Sea after Goeben it
might have difficulty in getting out again through the Straits. Failure or
partial success would have a disastrous effect here.” That is entirely typical
of Mallet. And so the scheme falls down.’ ‘There will be time to reconsider once Turkey enters the war,’ ventured Battenberg. ‘Necessity will then compel us to re-examine the plan. For the time being, if Cunliffe-Owen is right and troops are needed, where are they to come from? You know as well as I that Kitchener will not countenance any diminution of our strength.’ ‘Which is precisely why I wanted to involve the Greek Army.’ ‘But Grey … ’ ‘Never mind Grey; I can always out-argue Grey. He is no longer the problem.’ Battenberg groaned inwardly as Churchill continued. ‘You have seen the latest cable from Kerr? It destroys the last vestige of hope that the three Greek divisions upon which I counted might participate. Kerr has turned into a loose cannon, Louis. He was supposed to have guided the King; instead the King dictates his every move. And there is much more to this Goeben business than meets the eye. We shall have to have a show trial — a court-martial for Troubridge at the very least for failing in his clear duty to intercept the German ships — but it is Kerr who should be on trial. Do you recall the conversation we had in this office last year and the memorandum which was then prepared?’ ‘It has come to that?’ ‘It has come to that, Louis. We need not, of course, refer to it. The press will soon take up other, more speculative, reasons for your departure.’ ‘By one account I have already been unmasked as a German spy and been confined to the Tower. Who is to replace me?’ Battenberg announced resignedly. Churchill turned away from the contemplation of the map and stared out of the window at the gathering gloom.
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