CHAPTER 29
According to Travis Fernee and Baig could catch a train for Ashkhabad the same day that they crossed the Russian border. The scheduled train did not arrive so the pair had to spend an uncomfortable night sleeping in Kaaka station. Fernee kept his water bag containing the money firmly entwined around his neck. When the train arrived, over a day late, it was crowded with: Bolshevik soldiers; Persian traders; Cossacks; Kirghiz; Armenians and surprisingly young women in fashionable dress. Fernee was able to obtain a window seat and as the train chugged on its four-hour journey to Ashkhabad he made a mental note of any bridge or culvert where Mawle could place an explosive charge to cause the maximum damage.
As the time passed Fernee noticed his fellow passengers begin to eat food they had brought with them and that made him hungry. When the train pulled into Ashkhabad he left his seat and went in search of food. Whilst his food search in the railway station was in vain it did serve a different purpose to Fernee’s advantage. As Fernee prowled the platform a detachment of Bolshevik soldiers boarded the train and took great delight in upsetting the passengers who had remained on board. The soldiers turfed people out of their seats, aggressively questioned others and then boyishly amused themselves by throwing people’s luggage about. Fernee remained on the platform out of the way watching these happenings and only boarded the train as it was leaving the station when he found that the soldiers had quietened down and his seat had remained free. As the train continued to Krasnovodsk Fernee kept a lookout for the huge bridge that Mawle had told him existed on the line which, he intended to blow up, but Fernee saw neither hide nor hair of it.
The train arrived at Krasnovodsk late at night which forced Fernee and Baig to again sleep on the railway station’s floor without having eaten. In the morning the starving pair scoured the town for food but to no avail. So in the expectation that Baku might have some of that precious commodity Fernee booked the pair tickets on a steamer leaving for Baku that afternoon. Fernee also bought vouchers that would enable them both to eat on the ship. Whilst waiting for the ship to sail Fernee delivered two of Barber’s letters to reliable addresses but neither had anybody at home so any chance of being given some food evaporated. However once on board the ship Baig and Fernee’s hunger was dissipated not by a meal, because the ship had no food, but by a terrible storm that made them both seasick.
On arrival at Baku the following morning the two men ran to the Europe Hotel where Major McWilliam, the British Agent, was known to appear daily around lunch time. Fernee took the opportunity, before the agent’s scheduled appearance, to bathe and shave in one of the hotel rooms before he and Baig ate two large breakfasts each. McWilliam appeared just before noon and was relieved to meet Fernee. McWilliam’s relief was because of his inability to get information to any British base about the current situation. The reason was that the telegraph lines were down and the town was cut off from the rest of the Caucuses by enemy troops. McWilliam told Fernee that he wanted the following information to get to Meshed as fast as possible indeed he felt that Fernee should return to Krasnovodsk by the afternoon ship. With the previous evenings storms and two breakfasts inside him the prospect of crossing the Caspian again filled Fernee with trepidation. However once he heard the following report Fernee realised his stomach would have to put up with the situation and that he needed to act with the utmost speed.
According to McWilliam’s report:
The Turks were about forty miles from Baku opposing them were the remnants of the former Russian Imperial Caucasian army, who were crumbling fast;
That there were five different governing bodies in Baku;
Two of the governing bodies, the Armenians and the anti-Bolsheviks were for continuing the fight against the Turkish invaders. General Muncerville’s help would be welcomed by them;
Another two of the governing bodies - the Bolsheviks and the Caspian Fleet - were opposed to fighting the Turks and currently opposed to receiving Muncerville’s help. On the last point McWilliam was adamant that he would be able persuade these two bodies to change their minds and accept British military help particularly the closer the Turkish forces got to Baku. This help he was promising however needed General Muncerville’s Muncerforce to overcome the Jangali tribe’s resistance first, then get to Enzeli, and finally find some ships and sail to Baku;
The fifth of the governing bodies - the Centro-Caspian a mixture of all the local Muslim tribes was undecided as to what action should be undertaken against the Turks;
He had some concerns about the cotton held in Krasnovodsk being bought by the Germans but he had no information as to the situation.
No ship left Baku in the afternoon that Fernee had his meeting with McWilliam so he and Baig each found a proper bed for the night, ate a full dinner, slept well and bought provisions for their ship journey. As luck would have it the Caspian was as smooth for their return as it had been rough on the outward voyage so they were able to eat the food they had bought in Baku. When the ship docked in Krasnovodsk harbour the passengers, as they disembarked were swamped by friends, relatives and even strangers all of whom were anxious for news about conditions in Baku and also the whereabouts of the Turkish army. In this melee of people Fernee and Baig slipped ashore unnoticed by the Bolshevik police.
Fernee decided that despite the need to return to Meshed as soon as possible, he needed to stay a day in Krasnovodsk to discover what he could about the cotton. Remembering the addresses of the two letters he had delivered a few days before, he visited them again. The first address belonged to a doctor who offered Fernee a bed for that evening that he gratefully accepted. Baig on the other hand volunteered to book train tickets on the morrow’s evening train, wander the streets to pick up any information he could and then sleep on the station floor.
Fernee left his luggage at the doctor’s house and then went to see the second letter’s recipient, Kutznikoff. Kutznikoff wanted a summation of what was happening in Baku and then asked what Fernee was doing in Krasnovodsk.
‘Frankly Mr Kutznikoff I am also here to discover exactly what the situation is with regards to the cotton stocks in the town. Can you tell me what you know about the cotton and have the Germans been buying it?’
Kutznikoff smiled and nodded. ‘I know that some cotton was bought by the German Mission over in Ashkhabad but I don’t know how much. I can tell you my company is involved in transporting cotton across the Caspian to Astrakhan though where it goes from there I don’t know. There are three ships, two of them our company’s, currently alongside the docks here, loading cotton There are also two other ships anchored out in the roads waiting to come alongside when dock space becomes free, to load cotton. Other ships are expected over the next few days to arrive here and also load cotton. The whole town here is chock-a block with cotton and even more is arriving from Ashkhabad all the time.’
‘How much cotton would you say there is in the town?’
‘Already loaded and on the dock I would think about fifteen to twenty thousand tons. I understand that if the railway sidings here are not yet full of cotton, they will be by the end of today.’
Fernee looked worried as he sat back in his seat thought for a moment then said. ‘It is absolutely vital for the war effort that the Germans do not receive the cotton.’
‘Why is cotton so important now?’
‘You are aware cotton is used for making bullets and shells for example.’
‘I am in cotton shipping and I know what it is used for, I am not stupid.’
‘I know that. The history of cotton in this war is that Britain had to stop Germany getting cotton from America. Our ships blockaded Germany to stop the importation of cotton but some got through. Now America is in the war against Germany, the Germans can’t get cotton from them. The only possible cotton source is from Russia who is no longer at war with Germany. We have to stop the Germans both buying the cotton from their allies the Bolsheviks and then transporting it to Germany.’
‘Captain Fernee, I don’t s
upport these Bolos who signed the treaty which took Russia out of the war. I still want to see Germany and Turkey defeated. Indeed, I see it is my duty to work to that end because patriotic Russians do not want the Germans and especially the Turks here.’ He grimaced as he thought. ‘The ships now loading, at the dock, are expected on completion to weigh anchor possibly tonight but more likely in the morning. I’m sure there is something we can do - but what?’ He spread his hands in a gesture of resignation. He stood up and began to talk out loud to himself as he paced the room. ‘We need to delay loading the ships that are alongside somehow. If we could do that that then that would have a ripple effect, on the waiting ships and the train movement from Ashkhabad.’ Kutznikoff eyes darted about as he thought.
Fernee then began to see the dawning of a thought on Kutznikoff’s face. A mischievous grin slowly gathered momentum as it began at the mouth until it spanned from ear to ear and forehead to chin. Then suddenly the Russian’s face became cloudy and then brightened again. Kutznikoff returned to his chair, put his elbows on the desk, and dropped his voice to a whisper so that Fernee had to lean forward to catch what the Russian was saying.
‘I have a plan but it will need help from another man. Would you care if I brought someone else in?’
‘Couldn’t I be your help? Do you trust this man?’
Kutznikoff shook his head. ‘No you can’t. Yes with my life.’
‘I think,’ said Fernee, ‘I have to have faith on your judgement. So what is the plan?’
‘I need some money for bribes, have you got some?’
Fernee had given most of his money to McWilliam but he had kept some back for an emergency and was thankful that he had. ‘Yes I have some, but it is all in Imperial notes.’
‘They will do. Before I discuss my idea I should say what I see as its biggest problem. The problem is if we are to stop the movement of cotton to Astrakhan from Krasnovodsk then both places will know very quickly what has happened. The Bolos will be angry and they will want to know the reason for what has happened. If they do not accept the reason then,’ Kutznikoff looked at Fernee and drew his fingers across his throat. ‘Now I have a friend who works in the wireless station here. He is one of the few people now working there who is not a Bolshevik. The Bolos in their wisdom dismissed nearly all the old staff at the station on,’ he laughed, ‘ideological grounds. They found however that they needed to keep some technical specialists and my friend is one of them, in fact he is the key technician in the place. My friend usually visits me on most days. What I’ll do to ensure he comes today is to send a message asking him to come to the office as soon as he can. Coming to my office will give the visit an aura of official business and offers him some protection. In the meantime, until he arrives it is perhaps best that you wait in my outer office rather than go wondering through the town.’ He paused for a moment, ‘I have just had another thought. I am going to tell my secretary that you are someone looking for employment on one of the ships anchored outside the town and that my friend will radio them to see if they have a vacancy for you. That way your presence here will not raise suspicion. In the meantime I will write the message that will be sent to the Krasnovodsk Bolshevik Committee.’
A man arrived whilst Fernee was drinking his third cup of tea and went straight into Kutznikoff’s office and closed the door. A few moments later the door opened and Fernee was invited in and introduced to the man - the wireless technician Yegerov. Yegerov shook Fernee’s hand warmly and displayed not an ounce of surprise as to who he was. Yegerov then sat and listened patiently and without emotion to Kutznikoff’s plan and his role in it.
With a smile and a nod of approval Yegerov spoke. ‘I like it Igor. Simple, which is always good, and I think it will be effective. I know a chap who for a small sum of money will ensure that the station’s wireless breaks down immediately after we receive the message.’ He snorted in amusement, ‘actually the wireless is continually breaking down and we spend more time mending it than actually transmitting. We are always asking for spare parts from the Soviets which sometimes take days to get. So engineering a wireless breakdown is the easy part.’
‘Can you trust this other man?’ interrupted Fernee aware that the more people who knew about the plan the more likely it would be discovered.
‘He likes money but he’ll help because he doesn’t like the Bolos. He only works for the Bolos because like us all he needs a regular wage. No he won’t betray us. Now the message?’
Kutznikoff passed the message over to Yegerov. Yegerov laughed out loud in one or two places as he read the message. When he had finished reading it he asked for a clean sheet of paper and thoughtfully wrote on it referring all the while to the original document.
‘This is good,’ Yegerov said waving the original message before he tore into little pieces much to the others’ surprise. Yegerov saw their looks and waved his own piece of paper. ‘Don’t worry all I have done is to rewrite your message in the form that the Soviet Executive Committee in Astrakhan would use. I know how they do this because I see messages from the Committee all the time. This must look official if we are to succeed. Take a look.’ Yegerov passed his message version to Kutznikoff whom after reading it handed it silently to Fernee to read.
From: The Soviet Executive Committee Astrakhan
To: The Soviet Committee Krasnovodsk.
All ships at anchor in the approaches to Krasnovodsk or approaching that port are ordered immediately to prepare their ships to transport oil from Baku to Astrakhan. All ships must sail immediately for Baku.
The three ships in Krasnovodsk harbour currently loading cotton are ordered to be unloaded and are to put to sea immediately and proceed with all speed to Martovsk. They must dock at Martovsk immediately on arrival.
Kutznikoff watched Fernee study the message and noted with pleasure the Englishman’s smile of approval when returned the paper to Yegerov.
‘Why, Mr Yegerov, did you add the part about the movement of oil?’ Fernee asked.
Yegerov replied, ‘moving the ships to Martovsk without any explanation might be questioned by the Bolos here. However I am aware that the Krasnovodsk Soviet Committee knows that Astrakhan is short of oil. Indeed I believe our Soviet is expecting to receive a message about transporting oil to Astrakhan anyway. So I think our Soviet here will not raise any questions on moving the oil and therefore they will also accept, without question, the message relating to Martovsk.’
‘Why not get all the ships to get ready for oil? Why send the three to dock in Martovsk?’ Fernee asked.
‘Well several reasons. The Astrakhan Soviet often sends messages containing abrupt orders without explanation. Then I thought dispersing the ships round the Caspian might be useful. It would take some time to get them back here.’ Yegerov then grinned, ‘finally I thought that if I sent the ships to Martovsk the Soviet here might think that the ships were being sent there to rescue the local Bolos from the Germans who are I understand approaching that town. That might cause our Bolos here to panic about their own fate if the Germans arrive and therefore they might not think too much about the validity of the order.’
Fernee shook his head in wonderment. ‘That is fantastic. What will happen when the ships get to Martovsk though?’ Fernee asked to which Yegerov replied with a shrug and a smile that bordered on a grimace.
‘I think the more important question, Captain Fernee, is what Astrakhan will do when they learn what has happened,’ said Kutznikoff who then switched his gaze questioningly at Yegerov.
‘God knows. I am sure it will not be pleasant,’ said Yegerov looking worried. ‘These Bolos treat people worse than the Tsar and his Cossacks.’
‘So I understand.’ Fernee then added emphatically, ‘if you need to, Mr Yegerov, you can if you wish escape to Persia and we will look after you. That is a promise. Then when the Bolos fall from power you can come back here.’
‘Thank you.’ He held his hand out, into which Fernee plonked a bundle of Imperial Russ
ian Bank notes. Yegerov quickly looked through the pile, split them into two and put each half into a different pocket. Yegerov then stood, nodded at Fernee and Kutznikoff, strode out of the office before his footsteps could be heard clattering down the stairs.
About an hour after Yegerov had left the shipping company offices and whilst Fernee was reading a local newspaper in an empty adjacent office to Kutznikoff’s office he heard the clattering of boots on the building’s wooden floors. Through the open door of the office where he was sitting Fernee saw a flushed and sweating man with a revolver visible in his trousers’ waist stride into the outer office. The man marched without a word past Kutznikoff’s cowering secretary. Fernee watched the man wrench open Kutznikoff’s inner office door without knocking and burst in unannounced. Fernee heard Kutznikoff begin to greet the man but he was he cut off in mid speech. The stranger told Kutznikoff in a loud threatening manner that he wasn’t there for his health and that he had an order from the Soviet Committee that Kutznikoff must act on immediately. Fernee then heard an envelope being torn and after a moment Kutznikoff protesting in a loud voice about the message’s contents, which considering he had written the original, made Fernee smile.
The Bolshevik stopped Kutznikoff with a few shouted oaths that threatened him dire punishment if the order was not carried out directly. Next Kutznikoff appeared at his office door looking cowed before with great deference he ushered the Bolo, whose face was fixed in a scowl, into the outer office. The Bolo without gazing to the right or left marched to the office entrance with Kutznikoff trailing behind. At the door both men stopped where under the ferocious gaze of the Bolo, Kutznikoff turned and told his secretary to get all the ships captains currently loading cotton at the dock to come and see him immediately. Even before Kutznikoff had finished giving his secretary her orders the Bolo was stomping away down the corridor.
‘But why Martovsk, comrade? Will I have a cargo to pick up?’ Kutznikoff called timidly after the departing Bolo.
Fernee heard the Bolo’s shouted reply come down the corridor. ‘Just do as you are ordered, Comrade Kutznikoff. The Committee will tell you what is happening, in their good time not yours.’
Kutznikoff turned and shrugged at his secretary he then stuck his head in the office where Fernee was sitting, ‘I am sorry, comrade there has been a change of plan. Apparently all ships are going empty to Martovsk so we cannot employ you. Perhaps you could try another company?’ This statement was accompanied by an enormous wink.
Fernee thanked Kutznikoff before he headed down to the dock to see what was happening. Fernee could not gain access to the docks himself but as he walked down its approach road he was pleased to see the place in uproar. A line of wagons, clearly loaded with cotton, was being ordered by officials, backed by soldiers, to return back from whence they had come. Then as the line of wagons began to turn in the road a column of wagons appeared at the dockyard gate clearly coming from the dockside; Fernee was pleased to see they were loaded with cotton. The line of wagons coming out of the dockyard drove straight into the line of wagons who were trying to turn round and in a few moments the whole street was full of shouting drivers, neighing horses and gesticulating furious Bolshevik policemen. Fernee noticed that the Bolshevik policemen were not averse to using their fists, boots or any weapon they had to hand to hit drivers or horses as a means to ending the chaos.
Fernee managed to find a restaurant that actually had food in it and as he was eating his meal he heard two Russians discussing what was happening in the town. Fernee could not believe his ears and warily he asked one of the men to forgive him for eavesdropping but could he repeat what he had unwittingly overheard. The man did not seem in the least put out.
‘Of course comrade, I have been told I have a loud voice. Apparently one of the Turkmen tribes, the Yomuts, who have never liked Russians, is getting ready to attack the town. The Soviet Committee has ordered all ships loading cotton to unload it. They are going to use the cotton bales as barricades on all the roads into the town.’
‘Why use cotton? I have cotton shirts and they wouldn’t stop anything.’
The two Russians laughed loudly. The one who did all the loud talking spoke after wiping his eyes. ‘Compacted cotton bales are so dense that they will stop bullets. I can tell you’ve never been in the army.’
‘Bad heart,’ replied Fernee. ‘Why are the Yomuts going to attack?’
The Russian now looked serious, ‘there are problems down the line somewhere beyond Merv. Counter revolutionaries, may they be damned to hell, have seized power. So a large party of the soldiers guarding this town have gone down there to shoot a few people and restore order. I should think these Yomuts know our troop numbers are reduced having been told that by some treacherous dog. They are taking their opportunity to raid the town.’
‘How do you know all this?’
‘Because my cousin’s wife’s sister is married to a member of the Soviet Committee and she told me.’
Fernee finished his meal quickly and returned to the house where he was to spend the night. The householder, Marunov the doctor, clearly had his finger on the pulse of local politics as he and Fernee discussed the situation. Their discussion concentrated first, on the fact that virtually all the Bolshevik troops had left Krasnovodsk to put down a revolt out beyond Merv. Second, that if the Yomuts were going to attack the town then despite the cotton barricades, with no armed men to oppose them, a Yomut success was almost guaranteed. If the latter were to happen then Marunov thought that the Yomuts would loot the city and kill as many Russians and other Christians till they were sated. Then the Yomuts, who were nomads and not interested in occupying the town, were sure to invite their co-religionists, the Turks, to cross the Caspian and occupy Krasnovodsk.
The discussion ended when Marunov said with a smile wider than the Caspian,’ I have been joking about the possibility of a Yomuts attack on Krasnovodsk. Maybe fifty years ago it would have happened, but not now. The tribe has lost its fighting capabilities and weaves its rugs to earn more money than it ever did by attacking caravans or selling slaves. People have long memories about the bad old days and it is surprising what a well planted rumour can do to revive those memories.’ He giggled, ‘whoever thought that one up deserves a medal.’
The train to Ashkhabad was the following afternoon so in the morning Fernee went shopping to make sure that he and Baig had enough food to last them for four days. Fernee planned that four days of travel with the minimum of stops was all he would allow himself for the journey back to Meshed. To achieve his plan Fernee sent a telegram to Kaahka ordering horses and mules. The animals were to be ready to leave Kaahka for Meshed immediately he and Bedi arrived by train.
The train from Krasnovodsk took over twenty-four hours to reach Ashkhabad, nearly three times longer than their outward journey. On one occasion they were stopped in a passing area whilst a train full of troops lumbered by. Fernee increasingly began to fret about the impact this would have on his journey back to Meshed. When the train pulled into Ashkhabad station Fernee and Baig saw that the whole place was in turmoil. Armed men, not in uniform, thronged the station platforms shouting and screaming at the people waiting for the train. As soon as the train stopped the armed men began swarming through the train roughly handling anyway they did not like the look of. The searchers found two men wearing the leather jackets favoured by the Bolsheviks. The two were dragged off the train protesting until silenced by blows from the rifle butts of their protagonists. Shots were heard close to the train shortly afterwards. Fernee was tempted to stay and find out what was happening in the town but he felt in more prudent to find a corner in the station and keep his head down.
Only when the train eventually left Ashkhabad for Kaahka that Fernee found a Persian who told him the following. ‘The whole force of Krasnovodsk Bolshevik soldiers arrived in Ashkhabad yesterday afternoon and evening. They were on their way east to put down a counter-revolutionary revolt near Merv. The local Ashkhabad Bolshevik sol
diers were enticed to join them when they were told that not only would there be plunder but also a chance to create mayhem in Merv. All the Bolshevik soldiery then left on the train to Merv as soon as one was ready. By this act Ashkhabad itself was virtually denuded of Bolshevik troops and this prompted the local anti-Bolsheviks, led by militant railway workers, to seize first an arms depot and then the reins of government. Any Bolshevik who had been left in Ashkhabad was shot or hanged by the new anti-Bolshevik government, made up of God knows whom, this morning. They have got rid of the Bolos in Krasnovodsk too.’
Fernee got off the train in Kaahka and found that despite his telegram from Krasnovodsk ordering horses and mules to be waiting for him on his arrival, nothing had been done. It then took half a day for Fernee and Baig to round up a caravan before the pair set off travelling with only short halts taken during the darkest part of the night. This harsh travelling regime enabled them to take one day less than their outward journey from Meshed. It was after ten o’clock at night when Fernee’s caravan rolled into Meshed.
Fernee was exhausted by his journey but excited by the information he had. He reported to the duty officer, a captain, who was new and unknown to Fernee. Fernee asked to see General Barber but was told that General Barber had retired for the evening and that he was not to be disturbed. Fernee’s protests and insistence that he see the general immediately were pooh-poohed by the duty officer. To make Fernee’s anger and frustration worse the duty officer ordered him to write a report of his mission immediately and then when it was written and the General had read it then Fernee would see Barber. The duty captain was amazed when, just after midnight, he had Fernee’s report thrust into his hands.
General Barber put Fernee’s report down on the desk and looked across at his head of intelligence.
‘Fernee came highly recommended from India and I think he did well, sir’ Colonel Statham said taking Barber’s look as his a cue to speak. ‘It supports what our Russian friend has been telling us.’
Barber rubbed his chin with his hand. ‘Yes, his mission has undoubtedly served its purpose. I think that now we have both have read this,’ he stubbed the Fernee’s report with his forefinger, ‘we can act - provided India agrees. Any reply from them yet by the way?’ He added more in hope than expectation.
‘No, sir,’ said Statham. ‘Are you going to tell Fernee about our friend?’
‘No, colonel I think I’ll let you do that when he arrives here in a minute. I will of course be here to clarify anything that he does not understand.’
‘Good idea, sir!’ I could clarify anything that he needs to know far more easily than you Brigadier, thought Statham.
The two officers then sat in silence thinking about what to say next to each other when they were saved by a knock on the door. The door opened to admit Fernee who as he sat down was pleased to see his report in splendid isolation on Barber’s desk.
‘Good effort, Captain Fernee. I found your report about your trip very interesting, though too brief. I sent it off to India, once I had turned it into something readable.’ As he said this Barber made the effort to look pleased but without displaying warmth.
‘Yes sir.’ Fernee speculated that the report Barber had sent to India was no doubt full of adjectives and adverbs, which added nothing to the meaning merely made it long winded and more difficult to read. Fernee initially wondered if his name had been removed from the report, then sense entered his head - of course it had. ‘Thank you, sir.’
Barber waved his hands. ‘I give praise when it is due. Now, Colonel Statham has something to say and I will clarify anything you don’t understand.’ He looked across the desk paternalistically. Fernee went to say yes but before he could do so Barber was continuing, ‘Good. Colonel Statham will now bring you up to date with events that have occurred here in the period that you have been away on your mission. Colonel Statham if you please.’
‘A General Blavatsky has arrived here as a representative of the Free Turkestan Union or FTU for short, Fernee. Now these FTU are anti-Bolshevik and I understand they are the people behind the coup d’état in Ashkhabad. One of the leaders of the FTU is this General Blavatsky who has come to ask for our help - a process that we have already started. Now, Fernee, first of all have you heard of General Blavatsky and second did you come across the FTU?’
‘The general no, but the FTU, yes.’
‘Should have been in your report about the FTU,’ interjected Barber. ‘Why wasn’t it?’
Who cares thought Statham. What we want to know is what Fernee can tell us now not why he didn’t tell us something in the report. Why do senior officers look to find fault?
‘As far as the coup went, general, there seemed five or six different ant-Bolshevik parties involved. I was told that the major protagonists and instigators of the coup were the Social Revolutionaries but other parties joined them. I understood that the FTU were just one of the names of the government. They were still deciding what to call themselves when I left therefore I did not mention that name in my report.’
‘Don’t make such omissions from any of your future reports without clearing it with Colonel Statham or me. That sort of thinking is best left to senior officers, Captain Fernee. You will add to the report the names of all the parties involved in this coup. Clear?’
‘Sir,’ Fernee made the effort to look contrite.
‘Now we are waiting for India to decide about certain matters that we have put to them.’
Fernee did not move. ‘Can I ask a couple of questions, general?’
Barber surprised said ‘Yes, but be brief about them.’
‘What happened to those Russian Jewish merchants and the warehouse?’
Barber looked across to Statham for help, which he got immediately.
‘We have not heard anything since you were there a couple of weeks ago so we will keep monitoring the situation from Meshed.’
‘Thank you colonel. General Barber said something about this FTU general.’
‘Yes?’ The general snapped – he never liked questions particularly those from a junior rank. ‘I do have other important matters to attend to, Captain.’
‘You said earlier that you were already providing support to General Blavatsky. May I ask exactly what that support is?’
Colonel Statham leaned forward expectantly. Barber was going to be very short with Captain Fernee but somewhere a voice deep inside said “Caution”. Barber was about to say one thing and then as he opened his mouth he changed to the opposite. ‘I think, as your involvement is likely to continue Fernee I can tell you. We have provided him with money to the tune of thirty thousand pounds in silver rupees and gold sovereigns.’
‘You’ve given him British money?’
‘Yes,’ interrupted Statham as he saw the Barber’s neck and face go puce. ‘What do you think we gave him? French francs or, American dollars,’ he joked trying to prevent Barber exploding.
‘Well are we still trying to avoid any direct involvement in the internal affairs of Russia?’ Fernee said this quickly looking at Barber.
‘I think I can answer for the general.’ Statham got a nod of approval from Barber who thought better that he makes a mistake than me.
‘Yes we are not getting involved in what is happening over the border. Merely,’ Statham struggled to find the right words, ‘ensuring that those who oppose the Germans, like these FTU anti-Bolsheviks, get help - albeit only financial help.’
Tread very carefully thought Fernee to himself, so he switched on a smile. ‘I think giving that money will be very appreciated in Ashkhabad. The thing is should you be providing British money to them rather than local or Persian money? If the Bolsheviks or German agents see our money they will cry ‘wolf’ and they will know for certain that the British are involved. Do we want that?’
Barber was now on the back foot. ‘Possibly not at this time,’ why hadn't Statham thought of that Barber pondered – the man was so lucky to be a colonel.
Ferne
e clasped his hands as if in supplication and leant forward, ‘can I suggest that we replace the British money with Russian or Persian money and then it is more difficult to tie the money back to us.’ Fernee sat back in his chair waiting.
‘I thought that is what we’d done. Why didn’t you do that, Colonel Statham?’ queried Barber.
You were the one who told me to act immediately and be quick about it my good general and you also said any currency would do remembered Statham. He could not say that in front of Fernee so he replied ‘We had to act quickly, sir, and we just didn’t have time to get other currencies.’
Act in haste and repent at leisure, Barber thought but decided against saying it in front of Fernee.
‘Can I make a suggestion?’ Fernee said in an effort to bail the colonel out. ‘That we try and get the money back from the General Blavatsky and replace it with Persian and Russian notes.’
‘That sounds like a good idea general,’ said Statham.
Barber grunted to show that he was thinking and asked Statham. ‘Is it possible to get that amount of local money? How soon could you get the money because I understand that the general is ready to leave?’
Statham snorted. ‘The general is, how should I say?’ He paused and his eyes betrayed amusement, ‘of such a calm temperament that he is unlikely to leave within a week,’ he paused again for effect, ‘or two. He says the journey here tired him so much that he needs at least two weeks to recuperate.’
‘Spends most of his time drinking I shouldn’t wonder. Look I have an idea whilst you try and sort out the new currency why doesn’t Captain Fernee go and persuade General Blavatsky to allow us to perform the change. Captain Fernee does speak Russian after all. No need to have what you and I need, Statham, a damn interpreter!’
‘Good idea, sir’ said Statham surprised that the general had a good idea.
‘Can I make another suggestion, general?’
‘Which is what this time, captain?’
‘This coup d’état in Ashkhabad might have ramifications there for Baku. So I think I should return to the Caspian and find out exactly what is going in.’
‘I will agree to that Fernee but I’ll have to see what India says - Simla has a better overall picture than we have here.’ He smiled, ‘it is nice to see someone keen to do something. In the interim go and see General Blavatsky as soon as possible and report to Colonel Statham what he says to my suggestion about exchanging the money. You got anything to add,’ he said looking at Statham who smilingly shook his head. ‘Right then off you go, Fernee.’
Fernee was utterly intrigued as he went to meet a soldier who was to lead the anti-Bolsheviks wondering what sort of man he would be. General Blavatsky was a man in his early sixties who had been retired from the Tsar’s army before the war and had not been recalled to the colours during the conflict. The general was a cavalryman who moved at a pace that even a snail would call tardy. Fernee found the man pleasant enough but for a military man docile though Fernee did think that this might be because the general had a concentration span of only a few minutes. The general’s grasp of facts made even Barber seem a genius to Fernee. It was not difficult for Fernee to get the general agree to exchange the British money for a mixture of Persian and Russian money.
Statham obtained the equivalent Persian and Russian currency within three days of the return of the British money. Statham’s speed of the money exchange was unmatched by any sign of the Russian general wanting to get back to Ashkhabad.
The Cotton Spies Page 30