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The Cotton Spies

Page 68

by Simon Glyndwr John

CHAPTER 67

  ‘Good Morning, sir.’ Fernee spoke with a cheerfulness that he did not feel. His lack of inner cheerfulness was not merely because he had left an exciting situation in Baku behind but across the desk facing him sat - Beaky Barrington.

  ‘You back again I see, captain. Why?’

  ‘I was told to report here, by General Barber, on my way back from Baku. I understand my orders as to what I was to do next, were being sent here.’

  ‘I have not seen any for you.’ Barrington then screamed, ‘Corporal Jones at the double!

  Fernee heard a chair being scrapped on the hotel’s wooden floor. A moment later the smartly uniformed corporal appeared, saluted and stood ramrod straight.

  ‘Have you seen any orders from Meshed concerning, Captain Fernee.’

  ‘No, sir.’

  With a nod Barrington dismissed the corporal before switching his attention back to Fernee. ‘You obviously presumed wrong about General Barber. Look, we cannot have junior officers swanning around either doing nothing or, doing as they please as you seem to be doing. You seem to be going back and forth, hither and thither, up and down without a care in the world.’

  Fernee was about to lose his temper but thought better of it instead he pulled out his copy of the orders Oakes had raised based on Barbers’ telegram. Barrington read the orders and finished them with a grunt that Fernee took to be an apology though the colonel looked neither contrite, nor uttered any words of apology. When the colonel handed the papers back to Fernee he looked perplexed a sign that Fernee interpreted as the man had no clue what to say or do about him.

  ‘What is happening about us fighting the Bolos, sir?’

  ‘I am not sure that I should tell you confidential information.’ Fernee did not know whether to laugh or cry at that statement. His face must have betrayed some emotion because almost apologetically Barrington said, ‘along the railway line up at Merv our chaps clashed with theirs. The Bolos outnumbered us so our FTU allies and our troops have withdrawn west to Kaakha. We are hoping soon to get more British reinforcements. Anyway I suggest you go to Ashkhabad perhaps they have your orders. You should go straight away.’

  When Fernee got to Ashkhabad he found no orders but he knew he had to return to Meshed. Fernee asked the British Officer in charge of transport at Ashkhabad station if knew what was going on but he did not. Fernee then asked the officer for help in getting transport back to Persia instead he got some surprising orders. His new orders, signed by a Brigadier Fishlock, instructed him to take the next train to Kaaka. The transport officer told Fernee that Fishlock had overall command of British troops in Turkestan and reported to Barber; the officer added that there had been fighting up the rail line which had not gone well. Any British soldier, who could stand up was being press-ganged to go up the line to join Fishlock. Fernee on receiving these orders wondered how his very dear commanding officer in Meshed would re-act to his latest escapade.

  On his arrival at Kaaka station Fernee found its yards full of wagons and carriages of different types in one of which was the British headquarters. Fernee found as he walked through the yards that no matter what type of rolling stock confronted him it seemed home to soldiers either eating, sleeping, smoking or talking. Eventually in a Pullman car Fernee found a face he knew from his days on the Northwest Frontier – Brigadier Fishlock.

  ‘Good man,’ said Fishlock,’ I heard you had arrived unexpectedly down the line. It was stroke of luck because you are exactly what I need. I have some idea what you have been doing but give me a brief overview.’

  ‘I have been with General Muncerville in Baku working with his intelligence officer, Colonel Oakes. The Turks are just outside the town getting ready to pounce on the place. Much of my work has been translating for the general and the colonel with the Baku government about how best to defend the place. General Barber ordered me to Krasnovodsk where orders would await me when I arrived they were not there. I was told they might be in Ashkhabad but they were not. I know General Barber desperately wants me back so I was organising my return to Meshed when I got your orders to report here. General Barber will not be happy about my non-return, unless he knows about it?’

  ‘Not yet he doesn’t. I’ll get a note off to him saying we will return you in one piece as soon as possible. Here is Colonel Squires.’ Fernee stood and exchanged salutes with Squires who appeared through a carriage door. ‘Come in and meet Captain Fernee, colonel.’ Introductions over, Fishlock continued. ‘Captain Fernee you will join my staff on a temporary basis. My staff will consist of you, myself and Colonel Squires. You will be my intelligence officer. The colonel commands the 19th Punjabis who are our main force of infantry. The Punjabis consist of four hundred and sixty men with thirty cavalry.’ Fishlock started coughing and when he stopped to sip water he looked at Squires.

  Squires continued, ‘we have about seven hundred Turkmen and Russian troops with us. Unfortunately many of these men have never been trained and some have never fired a gun. The Bolos have about four thousand men so outnumber us by three to one. They have one aircraft we have none and they have more artillery than our three pieces. Yesterday the Bolos attacked in force and we only just held them. They retreated to their camp which is about two or three miles further east along the railway line behind a low ridge. Our one big advantage is that there is about a mile of open ground in front of our positions that they cross at their peril. Notwithstanding that fact we are expecting them to attack us again, probably tomorrow. A large part of their force seems to consist of Austrian and Hungarian POWs and they are certainly fine fighters. Not that we can always tell what nationality our opponents are because they have no uniforms to speak of.’

  Fishlock, his coughing over, with a glance at Fishlock said. ‘In the morning Fernee we will reconnoitre our positions. You can then see the conditions facing the Bolos and us. Now come next door and meet the Turkman in charge of the FTU troops.’

  After Fernee had met the Russian staff and their commander, Oraz Sardar, he was given a blanket by Squires’ batman and led into a dark railway carriage full of the sound of snoring men. Left to his own devices in the inky darkness to find a place to sleep Fernee proceeded to tread on several men much to their annoyance – admittedly only if they awoke. Eventually, Fernee by a process of listening for a lack of noise and being very gentle as to where he put his feet, he found a spot on the floor unoccupied whereupon he lay down and fell asleep.

  The following morning whilst waiting for Squires to take him round the allied positions Fernee began to pace through the rail yards near the headquarters’ railway carriage. As he passed one carriage where ammunition boxes were being unloaded a familiar voice said.

  ‘Good morning, Captain Fernee.’

  Fernee spun round to see, a grinning face poking out from the wagon. The face’s owner jumped down and with hand outstretched was soon shaking Fernee’s hand.

  ‘Good Lord,’ said Fernee, ‘Mawle, seeing action at last?’

  ‘Absolutely, Tom, I am in charge of the munitions as well as fighting with the Turkmen – nobody understands me or me them, still I am doing no: coding: decoding; ciphering; deciphering. What are you doing?’

  ‘Just in from Baku and I was going back to Meshed when Fishlock hijacked me in Ashkhabad. So here I am instead of being with our beloved colonel’ In the distance Fernee saw Fishlock and Squires leaving headquarters, ‘I‘m going with the Brigadier to have a look at our positions. I thought Squires was only a major.’

  ‘He has got a temporary promotion to colonel. Don’t get shot,’ shouted Mawle to Fernee’s departing back before he climbed back into the wagon.

 

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