It seemed no sooner was Fernee asleep than the train pulled into Krasnovodsk station where all passengers were thrown off. The men spent the rest of the night trying to sleep amid the stench of sweaty bodies in a packed waiting room. When dawn broke the men had a light breakfast of water and cold chapatti whilst Fernee took the opportunity to revise his plans.
Fernee ordered Mawle to go on his own to Baku to find McWilliam and receive his report. Mawle was also to reconnoitre the town and apprise himself of the current military situation. He was then to return to Krasnovodsk and report to Fernee. Fernee had decided that his meeting with the Government Committee in Ashkhabad was so momentous that he would telegraph Meshed immediately. Because a response from Meshed was so important Fernee thought he would better await their reply. Fernee said he would base himself at Dr Marunov’s house where he knew he would be welcome and safe. When Fernee finished telling Mawle his orders and what he himself was doing he could tell by his companion’s face that something was wrong.
‘I’m not going back to Meshed Tom. I refuse to serve under that horrible, rude, egotistical bounder, Barber. I have met some ill-mannered men in my time but he takes the biscuit.’ Fernee marvelled at Mawle’s restraint in his use of English. Mawle’s face began to go red as he debated something inside. ‘I’m going to tell you something I heard when I was in London and though I promised my source not to reveal it - I will.’ He paused, ‘Barber was bowler hatted from his East African command!’
Fernee knew that bowler hatted was a euphemistic term used for relieving a person of their command. The term was used not just to save the man involved but the embarrassment of the people who had appointed him. ‘Who did that and why?’
‘He was commanding troops at a battle, which was not going well. During the battle he claimed he was ill. He promptly handed over his command to his number two and drove off the battlefield in his car. Can you believe a British officer doing that?’ Before Fernee could reply Mawle pressed on, ‘General Smales had only just arrived to take over command of the whole East African Front. Well when Smales heard what had happened he was furious and accused Barber of cowardice. Though, whether Smales mentioned the word cowardice in his reasons for reliving Barber of his command, I don’t know. I would think not otherwise there would have been a court martial and Barber would have been shot.’
‘Pity he wasn’t,’ Fernee snapped.
‘My source said that the sad thing is that the general perception, in the War Office, is that Barber is clever. In Africa, Barber wouldn’t listen to his intelligence staff at all; many men went to their death because of that - only he knew best – attitude. Anyway, apparently when he was bowler hatted Barber tried to see Smales and Smales refused point blank to see him. Also like us, Barber’s staff in Africa hated him to a man.’
‘When did this all happen?’
‘1916 in East Africa.’
Fernee thought for a moment ‘What a minute something is puzzling me! If he was bowler hatted, how come he got the job in Meshed or before that in Mesopotamia?’
Mawle smiled sourly. ‘He was a big supporter of Kitchener’s when he was fighting Ballard over the Indian Army reforms ten years ago. Apparently Barber used to write pieces in an army newspaper obsequiously buttering Kitchener up. Result was Barber became a blue eyed boy to Kitchener (K) who put him in Intelligence where he did well. Barber then firmly grasped onto K’s shirttails and rose with him before the war. Scum, as well as cream, rises to the top you know, Tom. He got his chance to command field troops thanks to K’s myopic view that only his supporters were good soldiers. Kitchener promoted a whole raft of his acolytes to senior positions in both the Indian Army and when he returned to England in the Home Army. They look after one another. You know that. It never is what you know but whom you know.’
Mawle saw Fernee looking doubtful. ‘I have it on good authority that Barber’s immediate commander in Africa was Tighe. Tighe was scared of Barber. I heard that Barber used to write home to London and the War Office saying that Tighe’s incompetence was the cause of his, Barber’s, mistakes. Tighe knew Barber was writing back to London about him and that Barber was really good at playing political games with senior officers. Of course Tighe knew Barber was no good as a field officer but in the circumstances he could do nothing. Smales is not a wishy washy officer like Tighe and had no compunction about sacking Barber. None of our dear general’s friends in London could save him. Of course Kitchener’s ship had been sunk in 1915 and because he was dead he could not offer Barber help in 1916.’
‘How come Barber got another job? Can you explain that?’ Fernee wanted to believe Mawle but he wasn’t convinced. He did remember complaints about Kitchener when he was C-in-C of the Indian army but Fernee always thought it was sour grapes over promotion.
‘As I said Smales did not give all the reasons for bowler hatting him. With the shortage of staff and his background in intelligence perhaps it was thought he could serve some purpose.’ Mawle then shrugged his shoulders, ‘it is highly possible that army incompetence is involved!’
‘How so?’
‘Well one department in the War Office apparently didn’t know that the man had been retired so they dug him out to serve in Mespot and then Meshed. You know how the army has a habit of getting things completely and utterly wrong about someone.’
Fernee smiled wickedly. ‘Like sending a man half way round the globe to blow up a bridge that does not exist. This same man has no explosives experience and cannot speak the languages of the lands he has to pass through secretly. Of course he said he could speak those self same languages.’
Mawle pondered a moment then grinned. ‘Exactly, my case proves what I have just said. However, I did believe that a bridge existed and as for the explosives and language expertise.’
Fernee drawled, ‘yes?’
Mawle’s face went red, ‘when I was in London I didn’t actually say that I had explosives experience I just let them assume that because I was an engineer. As for the languages - well I just mumbled a few phrases in Urdu and Pashtu and the officer interviewing me had apparently never been out of England so naturally he assumed that what I said made sense. All I basically wanted was adventure. I did not want to be in an office in Whitehall doing whatever. I will not go back to Meshed.’
‘John, I am still your commanding officer remember that. But perhaps it is just as well that I am sending you to Baku but I will want you back here,’ Fernee tapped the arms of the chair he was sitting in. ‘I will need your report - it is important. I understand your feelings and when you return we will see how we can use you here. This will be in the light of what Barber says - if anything - to the request the FTU government has made for help. Anyway you are going to get excitement in Baku I have no doubt on that matter. I just hope you will not be around if the Turks arrive. You’d best be underway and I advise you to put your uniform on.’
Mawle set off to book his passage across the Caspian whilst Fernee went first to the Telegraph office to send his telegram to Meshed and then to Marunov’s house where he was welcomed with open arms and a hot bath. Fernee could do nothing but wait at Marunov’s house with increasing impatience for Mawle’s return from Baku and a telegram from Barber; neither happened.
On the third evening after Mawle’s departure, following an agitated walk through the town where he was pleased to see the bales of cotton remained stacked everywhere Fernee returned to Marunov’s house to find the doctor had unexpected guests.
‘Captain Fernee, how nice to see you,’ said General Blavatsky warmly. ‘May I introduce Mademoiselle Tamara Press, my secretary?’
Fernee bowed and took Press’s hand gently in his and shook it she smiled in return an action that made his heart leap. Steady he thought to himself - I cannot afford to get smitten by a woman in my circumstances. ‘So nice to meet you,’ stammered Fernee with his heart beating fast.
‘You too, Captain Fernee.’ Press smiled sweetly for a moment and then set her f
ace, ‘we have some news that will shock you.’
‘We have heard that the Tsar and his family are dead,’ Blavatsky said simply.
Fernee looked and felt bewildered and his interest in the woman abated for a moment. ‘How? Where?’
‘A place called Ekaterinburg and they were shot by these Bolos,’ Press spoke because Blavatsky was too overcome with emotion to reply. ‘We hope for several things as a result of this.’ Press looked at Blavatsky who motioned for her to continue, ‘we expect that it will rally all good Russians to rise against these Bolos. We anticipate that the British will accept our invitation to send troops to help us not only to oppose the Turks, but to support us fully in our fight against these murderous Bolos.’ Press looked forcefully at Fernee, ‘we are confident that this will happen.’
Fernee could say nothing except, ‘I am sure General Barber will do the right thing.’ After his chat with Mawle the one thing Fernee could not be sure of was - Barber doing anything right.
The rest of the evening was spent in discussing the fighting that had occurred further east between the Bolsheviks and the supporters of the FTU government who called themselves Social Revolutionaries. When he heard the news that fighting was taking place outside Baku and the Bolos had lost control of that city to the FTU, Fernee decided to go there the following day and find Mawle. That night his sleep was interrupted by thoughts of: the regicide of the Tsar; the attractiveness of Press and the height of the waves on the Caspian Sea. Fernee need not have worried about the latter because on his crossing to Baku the sea was as smooth as a well shaved chin so much so that he was able to eat a full breakfast just before the ship docked in Baku harbour.