To All Eternity Page 24

“The Turks.” Athenaikos gave a short laugh. “No, no, they have fled all the way back to Adrianople.” He indicated the town, only twenty-odd miles west of Constantinople itself, on the wall map. “But all of Thrace is occupied by Bulgarian troops.”

  “Why say but?” Berkeley asked. “Are they not our allies?”

  “Oh, indeed. But they are ambitious allies. Do you know that we reached this position only one day before them? Our advance guards exchanged fire before they withdrew. Yet they remain, on those heights over there, watching and waiting. They want Salonika. It would be their window on the Aegean, and hence the Mediterranean. Right now, all their seaports are on the Black Sea, which means they cannot get in or out by sea, as long as the Turks control the Dardanelles.”

  “But they would never attack you, surely.”

  Athenaikos tapped his nose. “Who can tell, General Townsend? Who can tell? Now tell me the real reason for your visit.”

  “I’m trying to find an old friend of mine, Colonel Toby Smailes. He is a British observer.”

  “But of course. Colonel Smailes is here in Salonika. I will send out to find him for you.”

  “Thank God you’ve finally turned up.” Smailes peered at Berkeley’s insignia. “Should I be calling you, sir?”

  “Only if it makes you happy. As for turning up, you’re damned lucky I am here at all. In case it has escaped your notice, I have been fighting a war.”

  “And doing famously,” Smailes said. “We need to talk. Somewhere very private.”

  “I gathered that from Gorman’s telegram,” Berkeley agreed.

  The most private place Smailes could think of was the open air, where they could see anyone approaching them. He secured a bottle of wine, and the two officers rode out of town to dismount and seat themselves on a grassy slope looking down on the water. It was a surprisingly good November day, but the breeze was chill and there was the threat of colder weather in the dark clouds gathering in the mountains to the north.

  “Let’s make it brief,” Berkeley said.

  “If we can. First, give me your assessment of the situation here. You know the Turks are suing for peace? There’s to be a conference in London.”

  “I heard a rumour.”

  “Will they get it?”

  “From Greece and Serbia, certainly. They have obtained everything they want. Bulgaria now . . . she’s still fighting isn’t she?”

  “She is, and she has to be stopped before her armies get to Constantinople. That would be quite unacceptable.”

  “What are the powers going to do about it? Send the fleet to the Dardanelles?”

  “Back the peace conference.”

  “You are assuming that the Bulgarians will accept whatever terms are put forward.”

  “It will be necessary to bring some pressure to bear. The Russians are in a good position to do this. However, there are problems.”

  “Aren’t there always? I assume you are talking about the Austrians? They’re not actually friends of the Bulgarians.”

  “Oh, quite. However, they do regard the Balkans as their backyard. Our people in Vienna report that the Austrian government is rather upset about the way this war has gone. I am talking about the speed with which it has been concluded and the absolute victory gained by the allied states. The Austrians were looking for a long, drawn-out war which would end in a Turkish victory. They would probably have been quite happy with a Turkish occupation of Serbia. The Austrians have always felt they could get the better of the Turks, as they proved in Bosnia-Herzegovina.”

  “I take your point. But I don’t see what I can do about it. I did my best to see off the Black Hand, but I’m afraid there are indications that it may be about to resurface. And right now the whole Serb nation is cock-a-hoop.”

  Smailes frowned. “You think they may attack Austria?”

  “No. I think both King Peter and his chief army officers know that would be a mistake. But I don’t think they will put up with any more Austrian aggression, in their backyard.”

  “Oh, quite. But we feel this is a remote possibility, at the moment. The Emperor is very old, very sad, very uncertain. His life has been one long tragedy, really: wife murdered, son a suicide, his appointed heir, Franz Ferdinand, now a morganatic husband. It is all very distressing for the poor old soul. He had to be bullied into occupying Bosnia-Herzegovina. No, no, I think we can safely say that as long as Franz Joseph is Emperor, Austria will undertake no more military adventures. Or, for that matter, political ones either. Unfortunately, as I say, he is eighty-three years old. It is a certainty that within the next couple of years Austria-Hungary will have a new Emperor. And it is going to be Franz Ferdinand.”

  Berkeley gazed at him. “I hope you are not saying what I think you are saying.”

  “I am merely stating one or two facts,” Smailes said smoothly.

  “General Gorman sent you all of this way to give me a political lecture?”

  “The general would like you to take a very broad view of the situation, Berkeley. There can be no doubt whatsoever that unless there is a most dramatic change in the political climate, at some time in the next ten years we are going to be at war with Germany. This is accepted even by some government ministers; one only has to read some of Lloyd George’s speeches to know that. Of course, this sort of thinking is anathema to the Liberal Party as a whole, but still, if a war were to be dumped in their lap, they would have to fight, or they could lose the next election to the Tories, especially with all these problems in Ulster. We would have as our allies Russia and France. Germany would have Austria-Hungary, and possibly Italy. We don’t know about Italy; she is in alliance with Germany and Austria, but she hates the Austrians. On the other hand, Germany might also be able to call on Turkey. There are already a considerable number of German officers serving in the Turkish army, and they are certainly supplying them with arms. And after what has happened these last few months, the Turks will be looking for revenge. So . . .”

  “You are talking of a general European war. Back to the days of Napoleon.”

  “It is certainly possible. And has to be considered. We have to consider life and death. Some in particular. Dynasties. Let’s consider dynasties, Berkeley. Those which may hold the future of Europe in the palms of their hands. When Franz Joseph goes the way of all flesh, he will, as I have reminded you, be succeeded by Franz Ferdinand. This man considers himself a soldier. However, the estimates of our people in Vienna are that he is a sensible man who realises that to dabble militarily in the Balkans might not turn out well. The estimation is that he will have to be pushed. So let us consider who is likely to do the pushing.”

  “His German allies,” Berkeley suggested.

  “Absolutely. But the German soldiers and sailors are also sensible men, some of them. They know Russia is recovering from the catastrophe of the Japanese war. They know France is arming as quickly and ambitiously as she can, just as they know the French will never forgive them for the defeat in 1871 and the German annexation of Alsace and Lorraine. They know, because they can read, that Britain is becoming more and more antagonistic to them, even if we are not yet officially a party to any alliance directed against them; you can be quite sure they know that the British and French armies have been conducting secret talks. The Germans have always had this fear of being hemmed in. This is growing with every day. Thus they are faced with a dilemma: shall we push, or shall we wait until we are forced to jump? And who has the ultimate power of decision? The Kaiser. There is no statesman in Germany, no general and no admiral, capable of standing up to Wilhelm II. And the Kaiser, as we all know, is a megalomaniac who sees himself as the great warlord of the twentieth century.”

  “You think the Kaiser will push the Austrians into a war with Serbia? You’ll have to explain to me how he will benefit from it.”

  “There can be no doubt that if, for whatever reason, Austria goes to war with Serbia, Russia will intervene. Now, the Germans are obliged under their treaty to go to war on Aust
ria’s side, certainly should the French come in on the Russian side, as they are obliged to do. Thus we will have a general European war, with Germany and Austria, and they would hope, Italy, against Russia, France, and Serbia which, let’s be frank, would be crushed out of existence in a week. And we know the Germans have a plan to deal with France very quickly, as they did in 1870, and then turn their whole military might on Russia, supported of course by the Austrians. They have every expectation of emerging from such a conflict as the dominating nation in Europe. And thus the world.”

  “Would we stand by and see that happen?”

  “There’s the rub. We are not contractually required to fight with either France or Russia. Indeed, the Tsar and his regime are probably more loathed in Britain than anywhere else. And it must be remembered, and is certainly remembered by the Germans, that however far our rapprochement with France has gone, only fifteen years ago we were on the point of declaring war on her, over that Fashoda business. Would we really go to war on her side, now? In the German estimation, the answer is no. But as I have said, public opinion in Britain is gradually taking on a more and more anti-German stance, whipped up by the politicians, to be sure. So logically, if there is to be a European war, from the German point of view it is best fought now, rather than in ten years time, by which time Great Britain and France may well have concluded a formal alliance. And the lynchpin in all of this thinking is the Kaiser.”

  Berkeley stroked his chin.

  “But we are talking about dynasties,” Smailes went on. “Where they matter. With all the respect in the world, if King George were to drop dead tomorrow, it would mean absolutely nothing in the context of European politics, because we are a democracy. The same goes for France. Well, they don’t have a dynasty at all, at the moment; if Monsieur Poincaré were to die they would simply find another Prime Minister. But in the three autocracies, well . . . If the Tsar were to die, he would be succeeded by a young boy who is reputed to be terminally ill. This would be greatly to the advantage of Germany and Austria. Unfortunately from the German point of view, Wilhelm and Nicholas are first cousins, and one will hardly wish the death of the other. When Franz Joseph dies, he will be succeeded by Franz Ferdinand, a man who will need time to find his feet, but who is very capable of being pushed by the Kaiser. But when the Kaiser dies . . .”

  “There is the Crown Prince,” Berkeley pointed out.

  “Oh, yes. We have had an eye on him for a long time. An utter weakling. He cannot even make up his mind what clothes to wear and has to be told by his valet. The thought of plunging Europe into a general war would give him a seizure. With the Crown Prince ruling Germany, European peace would be a certainty for at least ten years, by which time the entire situation may have changed dramatically.”

  “Wishful thinking,” Berkeley suggested. “The Kaiser is fifty-four years old, is in the best of health, and comes from a family which has a habit of living a long time.”

  “Absolutely. If we are going to achieve the situation we need, he would have to be assisted.”

  Berkeley raised his head. “You seem to have forgotten that in addition to being a cousin of the Tsar, the Kaiser is also a cousin of King George.”

  “And as I have just reminded you, Berkeley, King George does not rule England. He represents us.”

  “And you are telling me that the government of Great Britain, a Liberal government, is willing to contemplate the assassination of the Kaiser?”

  “Ah . . . no. Most of the members of the cabinet would be utterly shocked, not to say horrified, by such a suggestion. But then, does the government, the Liberal government, really know what it is about? It was elected on a certain platform of measures, several of which it has managed to carry out. But in the main, it was elected on an understanding by the people of England that such a government would keep us out of a European war. Now, as I have explained, we are inexorably drifting towards such a war, and the government, as a group, can do nothing about it save build more and more Dreadnought battleships at vast expense. Were the mainspring of this drift towards war to be removed, whoever accomplished such a deed would be doing both the government and the people of Great Britain an inestimable favour.”

  “A very Balkan, or Japanese, suggestion,” Berkeley observed. “And an utterly distasteful one. Well, Toby, I wish you luck.”

  “It is your luck with which we are concerned, Berkeley.”

  Berkeley stared at him. “You must be mad. What do you take me for?”

  “An English officer, who will carry out any command given him by a superior. I am here as the mouthpiece of General Gorman.”

  “Well, you can tell the general, nothing doing. If I am to be considered as disobeying the orders of my superior, then I will offer you my resignation, here and now.”

  “My dear fellow,” Smailes said, “you can’t resign. Nor can you refuse to obey your orders.”

  Berkeley looked him up and down. Smailes wore a revolver, but then so did he. And he suspected he was a better and quicker shot. He also wore a sword.

  “Try me,” he said.

  Smailes smiled. “Oh, I have no physical jurisdiction over you. Should you persist in this madness, I shall, most regretfully, return to Athens and wire the facts of your refusal to the general.”

  “Then there is an end to the matter.”

  “Not quite. When I do that, the general will feel obliged to release to the Serbian government the facts of your employment over the past few years. We obviously have kept the transcripts of all your messages to us, and of our replies.”

  “What a nasty lot you are,” Berkeley remarked. “So what are you going to prove? You can prove that I have been a British agent for the past four years. You cannot prove that I have in any way harmed, or tried to harm, the Serbian government or their armed forces. Or that I have ever given any information regarding either the political or the military situation in Serbia.”

  “Ah, but do the Serbs know that? If they are in possession of the certain fact that for the past three years, while serving in their army, you have been actually a British spy, will they not feel that the messages they will see are only a small part of the messages that were actually sent? Of course you know these people better than us, but our impression of them is that they are conditioned to suspicion, to a fear of betrayal, and that they are very inclined to shoot first and ask questions afterwards. Would you not agree that is an accurate estimation of the situation?”

  “You unutterable bastards,” Berkeley remarked.

  “Quite. Then you do agree.”

  “You people live in never-never land,” Berkeley said. “What you require me to do is travel to Berlin, demand an audience with His Majesty, walk up to him, shoot him, and presumably be immediately shot down by his guards, to the great relief of everyone.”

  “I suspect you are becoming something of a Serb yourself,” Smailes said. “No, no, we will choose the time and place. We would prefer it if the deed was done and you escaped, just in case you were caught and required to confess. We do not think it would be a practical proposition in Germany itself, which is a very heavily regimented society. However, Hungary is a different matter.”

  “Does the Kaiser ever go to Hungary?”

  “Yes, he does. Almost every year. He goes in the spring, for the shooting at Lake Balaton.”

  “Accompanied, no doubt, by a considerable entourage.”

  “Oh, indeed. But then, you have access to a considerable entourage, have you not?”

  Berkeley frowned at him.

  “I am speaking of the Black Hand.”

  “Which you required me virtually to disband.”

  “But which you yourself have told us is still there, waiting to be resurrected. A body of desperate men who look to you as their natural leader.”

  “The Black Hand was created to fight against Austria,” Berkeley said. “Even if they could be reunited, which I doubt, they have no quarrel with Germany; certainly not when it may involve the loss of
their lives.”

  “Not even if you convince them that the Kaiser is the mainspring of all Austrian acts of aggression? You have a network of agents and anarchists already in existence in Hungary, have you not?” Smailes asked. “All they need is to be activated. You have every prospect of getting to Lake Balaton, doing the job, and getting out again. As you and Anna Slovitza did back in 1908.”

  “Which cost Anna’s life.”

  “All the more reason for you to survive.”

  Which didn’t make much logical sense. But of course Smailes was stating facts. However much he might have denied it, Berkeley knew the Black Hand was still very much in existence and was recruiting all the time, principally from among people like the schoolboys at Gregory’s establishment. He also knew that people like Szigeti in Kiskunhalas were still there, and would respond if called upon again to serve the cause. The proposition was a practicality, even if getting away again afterwards was not so probable. And what was the alternative? He knew just how ruthless Gorman was. If he refused he would very probably wind up against a wall, being shot by the very soldiers he had led to victory in the recent war.

  “And afterwards?” he asked. “Just supposing I carry out your orders, and get away with it?”

  “The world will be your oyster, my dear fellow. Certainly you will find that we will be everlastingly grateful.”

  “We, being you and Gorman.”

  “I’m sure you understand that even the general could not undertake such an action on his own. We, as I use it, may claim to represent a substantial group within the Establishment. We would never be able to acknowledge you, or what you have done, but we would, as I say, be most generously grateful. And you would have the knowledge that you have saved Europe from a most devastating war. Shall I communicate to the general that you accept our commission?”

  Berkeley sighed. “I don’t seem to have much choice. I will need considerable documentary support.”

  “Such as?”

  “New passports for Lockwood and myself.”

  Smailes nodded.

  “You will leave the photograph spaces blank. We will see to that locally.”