After Keyworth had been granted permission to visit the front he and Fernee went there early each morning. After one visit they returned to the hotel to find it surrounded by angry women who appeared to be waiting for them. As the two men pushed their way through the crowd the women kept asking, ‘where is our bread?’
Colonel Oakes close to apoplexy met them half way up the stairs as they were returning to their rooms. He burst out without even a “Good morning.” ‘Martov’s done it again. The swine’s gone and done it again!’ When he saw Keyworth’s questioning face he added. ‘The bugger pirated some ships in the night and set off to Astrakhan with Hagopian and the rest of the last government. Luckily the loyal Caspian fleet went after him again. And the navy stopped him again. Now this you will not believe,’ Oakes paused for effect, ‘rather than bringing Martov back to Baku like they did last time, the loyal Caspian navy and the Bolsheviks are having a pow-wow at sea. Apparently the Caspian Navy cannot decide what to do.’
Oakes held his hand out and gesticulated towards a window that pointed to the west. ‘Johnny Turk is waiting a mile outside town to come in and plunder it and the Bolos disappear? Martov ought to be shot for cowardice because that is all it is. I think this claim that Martov was ordered by Moscow not to fight with us is nothing but hooey. That Hagopian is just as bad. Hagopian is an oily Armenian and far as I am concerned he is a complete and utter non entity and how he led a government I just do not know – he should be shot as well. He paused for breath, ‘we could pressgang the Bolsheviks if and when they return to Baku. We desperately need men.’
‘I know, I know but I have never been one who believes that conscripted men make good soldiers and they can affect the morale of other soldiers,’ responded Keyworth.
‘Not all the Bolshevik soldiers on those ships may feel the same way as Martov, colonel.’
‘The problem, Colonel Oakes, is that the Armenians who you think would be determined to keep the Turks from Baku, bearing in mind the history between the two nations, do not appear to be so. On our visit this morning we found one of the Armenian machine guns abandoned, its crew had deserted their post and come into town. The reaction of their commander was “well they’ve got families”. Tell the general what you said, captain.’
‘That if the Turks arrived they probably wouldn’t have an intact family for much longer and that it was better to fight the Turks outside, rather than inside the town.’
‘The Armenian replied “well it’s a free country” and then he shrugged with a damn surly look on his face.’ Keyworth looked as he felt – exasperated. ‘But whatever happens, Colonel Oakes, we must not let these Bolsheviks keep the weapons they took. Can we get anybody on the loyal ships to seize the weapons the Bolos stole and bring them back here? If these ships let the Bolsheviks go to Astrakhan – sobeit - we cannot worry about those blighters.’
‘I will try but all these people are you say, so obstreperous. They keep harking back to the fact that we brought so few men when we promised more. Anything you or I suggest they seem to ignore. Anyway we will ask them to radio the ships to do as you ask.’
The two colonels stared emptily at each other for several seconds. Fernee wondered if he should leave the room.
Eventually Keyworth spoke. ‘Any good news? Anything to cheer me up?’
‘General Muncerville is coming across with the remainder of our men from Enzeli either tomorrow or the day after that.’
Keyworth clasped his hands together and looked up to the ceiling and muttered, ‘thank you.’
Fernee cleared his throat. ‘Colonel Oakes, when we were coming into the hotel we were surrounded by women asking us for bread. Do you know anything about that?’
‘Unfortunately I do, captain!’ Oakes un-crumpled a piece of paper he had held screwed up in his hand. ‘Sorry about the state of this.’ He waved the paper, ‘I had just got this when I heard about Martov’s escapade. You both better have a read.’ The paper went via Keyworth to Fernee. The paper read:
‘Armenians have no fear of starvation. The English army is our saviour because they have bread. Bread will be handed out free at the Hotel Europe. There is plenty of bread for everyone. The English have promised us - everyone will eat!’
When Fernee had finished reading and was about to ask the obvious question Oakes forestalled him. ‘The women appeared on the streets this morning many of them waving copies of this paper. One source thinks the paper was distributed by Turkish supporters, but I think it is far more likely to be Bolshevik inspired.’
‘Why?’
‘The Bolsheviks still have major support in the town, the Turks less so. Whoever it was is immaterial because we still have to tell those poor souls outside the truth.’ Oakes looked contritely at Fernee. ‘I am sorry captain but as you are the only one of us who can talk to those people, you will have to tell them. Sooner rather than later may be the best policy. Don’t forget about the radio.’
Fernee spoke to a member of the government about radioing the ships to bring the Bolos back before he headed out of the hotel with Colonel Keyworth’s batman holding a chair. Once outside Fernee stood on the chair and then shouting as loud as he could he told the women about the bread or, more correctly the lack of it. Many of the women who thronged the hotel forecourt spoke only Armenian and they refused to believe the women who translated Fernee’s explanation in Russian. Other women at the back of the crowd obviously could not hear what was being said and eager to get what they thought was on offer, constantly pressed forward. Several times Fernee was almost knocked off his chair as the crowd swayed forward, back and side to side. Only when the women inched their way to where Fernee stood on his chair repeating his explanation could they see he did not have any bread. That done those women then had to fight their way back from whence they came and then the crowd degenerated into a pushing and screaming mob. It took Fernee over two hours to get the crowd dispersed and none of the women went home pleased, or enamoured of the British. As for Fernee his throat felt as if it had been rubbed vigorously with coarse sandpaper.
Whilst Fernee placated the crowd Oakes visited the police to ask them to try and find out who had printed the document. The policeman Oakes saw expressed puzzlement as to why in the current circumstances it was important to find out that information. Oakes explained that it was important because if it had been a Turkish agent who had sponsored the document they might try further propaganda that could undermine the current government and its will to fight. After nearly an hour of cajoling and argument, Oakes was given a policeman to act as a guide based on the claim that the man knew all the town’s print shops. Oakes and his policeman picked up a hoarse Fernee from the hotel.
The policeman’s visit to the various shops criss-crossed the city to the annoyance of Fernee and Oakes who would have liked rather less walking and rather more organisation. The accompanying policeman not once asked a question of any shop proprietor unless directed to do so by Oakes who had great difficulty keeping civil with the man; at one stage Fernee thought the colonel was going to shoot the man but sense prevailed. Fernee’s stomach was beginning to rumble when the policemen announced that the next shop was down near the docks and that would be their final destination. As they approached the docks townsfolk were thronging excitedly down the street until they could get a view of the sea. Ships were approaching the harbour, others were already entering it - the Bolsheviks were returning.
The impact of these ships returning to Baku on the policeman was extraordinary: when the three men entered the printing shop the policeman produced for the first time, the flysheet about the bread; he interrogated the shop owner without any prompting from Oakes; he adopted a threatening posture that he had used nowhere else and the owner looked cowed.
Finally the policeman turned round and spoke in Russian. ‘This man printed the sheet. He says that the man paid him in Imperial Rouble notes. He also said that the man was a Tarter.’
‘Had he seen the man before? If not
would he recognise the man again? Would he give a description?’
The policeman and the owner spoke for several minutes and from time to time the policeman made notes. At the end of the conversation the policeman said ‘No, he’d never seen him before. He thinks he would recognise him although the man came when it was dark. Here is his description.’ Fernee took the notes the policeman had made and began to translate it into English.
‘Between five feet five and five feet eight inches tall, thickset, dark hair, dark moustache, male naturally, age between thirty five and forty five and dressed in traditional tartar dress.’
The two officers exchanged glances. ‘Wonderful, there are thousands of Tartars here, captain, could be anybody.’
‘Yes,’ replied Fernee as he was thinking. ‘One thing though. If it was not a Russian or an Armenian then it was not a piece of mischief that we can place at the Bolshevik door or some dissident Armenian group opposed to the government.’
‘This means that the man probably is a real Turkish agent. So then we need to find him before he creates more mischief. For that we have to get the police involved because we cannot act without them. I suppose that will be another visit to the police station. Explain to our friend here that we need to find this chap. Perhaps we should do that outside rather than in here.’ Oakes raised his eyebrows as a means of pointing at the shopkeeper. ‘We do not want him hearing.’
The three men left the shop and stood watching one of the Bolshevik ships tie up alongside one of the port docks. Fernee explained to the policeman about the need to find the Tarter. The policeman seemed excited at the prospect of a manhunt and waved his descriptive notes in the air as he promised to make a report on his return to his station, which he would do immediately. Much to the two officers surprise he turned on his heel and walked away from them at a rate of knots that far exceeded any speed he had shown earlier.
‘I suppose we have to trust him, colonel?’
‘Yes. Tomorrow morning however I will go down to see the chief of police just to make sure’